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moonstruckme · 5 months

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just finished a rewatch of ootp and i forgot how cute luna and harry’s friendship is!! had me start thinking about what a james potter x luna lovegood-esque reader relationship would look like and i RAN to your ask because i just have to see what your take on it would be! love love LOVE ur writing, no pressure to write this tho if the inspo doesn’t hit!! thank u lovely <333

I forget how sweet they are all the time too! Thanks for requesting honey <3

James Potter x whimsical!reader ♡ 986 words

James comes home to find all of his pants on the floor.

“Unless I’ve started sleepwalking,” he says, and you look up at the sound of his voice from where you’re crouched next to one pair of jeans, apparently digging through his pockets, “I’m fairly sure I put these away after I took them out of the dryer last night.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” you reassure him in that quiet, breezy way of yours. “You did. If you were sleepwalking, I would tell you.”

James waits a second for you to elaborate, then realizes how foolish that is of him. “Then what are they all doing on the floor, my love?”

“It’s the first day of the waxing moon.” Coins clink in your palm as you remove it from his pocket, and then—to James surprise—simply submerge your hand in the opposite pocket, dropping the change in. “You keep a lot of money in your pants, did you know? It’s lucky the dryer didn’t shake it all out.”

Actually, he had found a few coins after taking out his laundry the night before, but apparently there’s still some left over in his deep pockets. “What does the moon have to do with anything? And are you robbing me? If so, you’re doing a horrible job, sweetheart.”

You sit back, setting your bum on your heels, and smile at him in that indulgent way you do when you think he’s being silly. It emits a soft glow, and James can’t help but squat in front of you, pecking you on the lips in belated greeting.

You kiss him back without complaint, lips soft and pliant and curved against his. “You switch your coins to the opposite pocket for good fortune during the waxing moon, Jamie. You can’t tell me you haven’t done it before.”

“I can tell you most certainly that I haven’t,” he promises, tucking a hand behind your ear to cradle your head. You lean into the touch absentmindedly even as your lips draw into a little frown.

“Then how did your family get to be so rich?” you muse softly.

It takes some effort for James to smother the laughter that rises in his chest, turning it into a pensive hum. “I suppose they might’ve always known and just kept it a secret from me. My mum did say she wanted me to make my own way in the world.”

“Oh.” You nod, certainty restored to your countenance. “That’s it, then. Not very considerate of them not to give you the tools for success, but I suppose every parent has their own ideas about those things.”

James only hums again, lips curving of their own volition. “Anything else we need to do tonight to accommodate the waxing moon, darling?”

You laugh, the sound light and lovely as the tinkling of wind chimes. “Jamie, the waxing moon lasts for fourteen days. We’ve got two weeks for everything we want to do.”

“Oh, how silly of me.” He grins at you, stealing another quick kiss. “Everything, you say? What might that be?”

“Well,” you say, returning to your task with the next pair of pants closest to you, “the waxing moon helps draw good things toward you. Like fortune” —you hold up a sparse palmful of coins for him to see before transferring them to the other pocket— “or a good harvest, or new love, or new job—didn’t you say you were thinking about asking for a promotion? This would be a good time.”

“Maybe,” James replies with due consideration, but truly his mind has gotten snagged on one idea and not let go. “Love, eh?” He grins at you, reaching to wrap his hands around your waist and sliding you across the floor to him. “Should I be prepared to feel extra besotted for the next couple of weeks?” You smile and lean your head onto his shoulder to look up at him, going lax in his embrace. You’re a rather placid thing by nature, but he knows you secretly love it when he manhandles you like this. You go all soft and cloudy-eyed, and even now, you certainly seem far from scolding him for interrupting your task. “I’m pretty far gone already,” he says, just to hammer it home, “so I’m not sure how much worse it can get.”

He’s rewarded with a light flush across the tops of your cheekbones. “It’s new love, Jamie,” you correct him. “The waxing moon doesn’t affect love that already exists.”

“Oh, I see.” He narrows his eyes down at you. “So this is your opportunity to ditch me for some new bloke, is that it?”

The adoration doesn’t leave your gaze, but you shrug. “I’m not manifesting that, so I suppose it’s up to the moon to decide.”

Some of the levity leaves him. “Wait, so if some other guy said he was drawn to you by the waxing moon, you’d consider it?”

You let your head weigh heavily on his shoulder, pursing your lips slightly in contemplation. “I suppose I’d at least hear him out. It’s powerful magic during this time, you know? I’d at least be curious what drew him. Or them, you never know.”

Now James is the one who’s frowning. “That’s not very reassuring, sweetheart.”

You seem to come back to yourself, eyes focussing on his again and a small smile returning to your lips. “Don’t worry, Jamie.” You lean up to kiss him before slipping free of his hold, going to find another pair of jeans to dig through. “I’d obviously wait until the clarity of the full moon to decide on anything.”

“Obviously,” James echoes, feeling somewhat dazed as he stands. “Um, angel? If you meet someone who tells you the moon sent them to you, would you at least let me know? I think if I tell Sirius about it, you may find they don’t stick around until the full moon anyway.”

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zedecksiew · 3 months

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(Don't) Incentivise Ethical Behaviour

In the ongoing project of rescuing useful thoughts off Xwitter, here's another hot take of mine, reheated:

"Being good for a reward isn’t being good---it’s just optimal play."

The quote comes from Luke Gearing and his excellent post "Against Incentive", to which I had been reacting.

My thread was mainly intended as a fulsome nodding along to one of Luke's points. It was posted in 2021, and extended in 2023 after Sidney Icarus posed a question to it. So it is two threads.

Here they are, properly paragraphed, hopefully more cleanly expressed:

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(Don't) Incentivise Ethical Behaviour

This is my main problem with mechanically rewarding pro-social play: a character's ethical choice is rendered mercenary.

As Luke Gearing puts it:

"Being good for a reward isn’t being good---it’s just optimal play."

Bear in mind that I'm not saying that pro-social play can't have rewarding outcomes for players. Any decision should have consequences in the fiction. It serves the ideal of portraying a living, world to have these consequences rendered diegetic:

The townsfolk are thankful; the goblins remember your mercy; pamphlets appear, quoting from your revolutionary speech.

What I am saying is that rewarding abstract mechanical benefits (XP tickets, metacurrency points, etc) for ethical decisions stinks.

A subtle but absolutely essential distinction, when it comes to portraying and exploring ethics / morality, in roleplaying games.

Say you reward bonus XP for sparing goblins.

Are your players making a decisions based on how much they value life / the personhood of goblins? Or are they making a decision based on how much they want XP?

Say you declare: "If you help the villagers, the party receives a +1 attitude modifier in this village."

Are your players assisting the community because it is the right thing to do, or are they playing optimally, for a +1 effect?

XP As Currency

XP is the ur-example of incentive in TTRPGs. It began with D&D's gold-for-XP, and has never strayed far from that logic.

XP is still currency. Do things the GM / game designer wants you to do? Get paid.

Players use XP to buy better mechanical tools (levels, skills, abilities)---which they can then in turn use to better perform the actions that will net them XP.

Like using gold you stole from goblins to buy a sword, so you can now rob orcs.

I genuinely feel that such systems are valuable. They are models that illuminate the drives fuelling amoral / unethical behaviour.

Material gain is the drive of land-grabbing and colonialism. Logger-barons and empires do get wealthier and more privileged, as a reward for their terrible actions.

If you want to present an ethical choice in play, congruent to our real-life dilemmas, there is value in asking:

"Hey, if you kill the goblins you can grab their treasure, and you will get richer. There's no reward for sparing their lives, except that they are thankful."

Which is another way of asking:

"Does your commitment to the ideal of preserving life outweigh the guaranteed material incentives for taking life?"

The ethical choice is the difficult choice, precisely because it involves---as it often does, in real life---sacrificing personal growth and gain. Doling out an XP bounty for doing the right thing makes the ethical choice moot.

"I as the player am making a mechanically optimal choice, but my character is making an ethical choice!"

A cop-out. Owning your cake and eating it too. The fictional fig-leaf of empathy over a calculated a decision to make profit.

Sidney Icarus asks a question which I will quote here:

"... those who hold to their beliefs of good behaviour don't feel rewarded, and therefore feel punished. And that's not a good feeling. It's an unpleasant experience to play a game where the righteous players are in rags, and the mercenary fucks have crowns and sceptres. So, what's the design opportunity? How do we make doing the right thing feel pleasant without making it mercenary? Or, like reality, do we acknowledge that ethical acts are valuable only intrinsically and philosophically? I have no idea how to reconcile this."

I would suggest that the above dichotomy---"righteous players in rags, mercs in crowns"---is true if property is recognised as the only true incentive.

Friends As Property

Modern games try to solve the righteous-players-in-rags "problem" in various ways. Virtue might not net you treasure or XP, but may give you:

Contact or ally slots, which you can fill in;

Relationship meters you can watch tick up;

Favour points you can cash in later;

etc.

How different are these mechanical incentives from treasure or XP, really?

Your relationships with supposedly living, breathing beings are transformed into abilities for your character: skills you can train; powers you can reliably proc. Pump your relationship score with the orc tribe until calling on them for reinforcements becomes a once-per-month ability.

Relationships become contracts. Regard becomes debt. Put your friend in an ally slot, so they become a tool.

If this is what you want play to be---totally fine! As stated previously, games say powerful things when they portray the engines of profit and property.

But I personally don't think game designers should design employer-employee relationships and disguise these as instances of mutual aid.

Friends As Friends

In the OSR campaigns I'm part of, I keep forgetting to record money. Which is usually a big deal in such games, seeing as they are in the grand tradition of gold-for-XP?

In both games, my characters are still 1st-Level pukes, though it's been months.

I'm having a blast, anyway.

My GMs, by virtue of running organic, reactive worlds, have made play rewarding for me. NPCs / geographies remember the party's previous actions, and respond accordingly.

I've been given gills from a river god, after constant prayer;

I've befriended a village of monsters, where we now live;

I've parleyed with the witch of a whole forest, where we may now tread;

I've a boon from the touch of wood wose, after answering his summons.

I cannot count on the wood wose showing up. He is a character in the world, not a power I control. Calling on the wood wose might become a whole adventure.

Little of this stuff is codified my stats or abilities or equipment list. They are mostly all under "misc notes".

Diegetic growth. Narrative change that spirals into more play.

This is the design opportunity, to me:

How do we shape TTRPG play culture in such a way that the "misc notes" gaps in our games are as fun as the systemised bits? What kinds of orientation tools must we provide? What should we say, in our advice sections?

A Note About Trust

The reason why it is so hard to imagine play beyond conventional incentive structures has a lot to do with trust.

Sidney again:

One of the core issues is the "low trust table". I'm not designing just for myself but for my audience. For a product. How much can I ask purchasers and their friends to codesign this part with me?

Nerds love numbers and things we can write down in inventories or slots because they are sureties. We've learned to fear fiat or player discretion, traumatised as we are by Problem GMs or That Guys.

The reason why the poverty in Sidney's hypothetical ("righteous players are in rags") sounds so bad is because in truth it represents risk at the game table. If you don't participate in the mechanics legible to your ruleset (the XP and gear to do more game things), you risk gradually being excluded from play.

You have no assurance your fellow players will know how hold space for you; be considerate; work together to portray a living world where NPCs react in meaningful ways---in ways that will be fun and rewarding for everybody playing.

You are giving up the guarantee of mechanical relevance for the possibility of fun interactions and creative social play.

The "low trust table" is learned behaviour--the cruft of gamer culture and trauma.

When I game with folks new to TTRPGs, they tend to be decent, considerate. I think there's enough anecdotal evidence from folks playing with school kids / newcomers / etc to suggest my experience is not unique.

If the "low trust table" is indeed learned behaviour, it can be unlearned.

Which rules conventions, now part of the hobby mainstream, were the result of designers designing defensively---shadowboxing against terrible players and the spectre of "unfairness"?

How can we "undesign" such conventions?

Lack of trust is a problem that we have to address in play culture, not rulesets. You cannot cook a dish so good it forces diners to have good table manners.

This is too long already. I'll end with an observation:

Elfgames are not praxis, but doesn't this specific dilemma in the microcosm of our silly elfgames ultimately mirror real-world ethics?

To be moral is to trust in a better world; to be amoral / immoral is to hedge against the guarantee of a worse one.

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Further Reading

Some words from around the TTRPG community about incentive and advancement in games:

However, the reason there is a big debate about this is that behavioural incentives in games clearly do work, either entirely or at various levels. This applies outside gaming, as well. Why do advertising companies and retail business use "rewards" structures to convince people to buy more of their products? Why do people chase after "Likes" on social media?

A comment by Paul_T to "A Hypothesis on Behavioral Incentives" from a discussion on Story-Games.com

the structure and symbolism of the D&D game align with certain structures and values of patriarchy. The game is designed to last infinitely by shifting goalposts of character experience in terms of increasing amounts of gold pieces acquired; this resembles the modus operandi of phallic desire which seeks out object after object (most typically, women) in order to quench a lack which always reasserts itself.

D&D's Obsession With Phallic Desire from Traverse Fantasy

In short, my feeling is that rewarding players with character improvement in return for achieving goals in a specific way impedes some of the key strengths of TTRPGs for little or no benefit in return.

Incentives from Bastionland

When good deeds arise naturally out of the players choices, especially when players rejected other options that were more beneficial to them, it is immensely satisfying. Far more than if players are just assumed to be heroic by default. It gives agency and meaning to player choice.

Make Players Choose To Be Kind from Cosmic Orrery

Much has been made about 1 GP = 1 XP as the core gameplay loop driver of TSR D+D. But XP for gold retrieved also winds up being something of a de facto capitalistic outlook as well. Success is driven by accumulation of individual wealth -- by an adventuring company, even! So what's a new framework that can be used for underpinning a leftist OSR campaign?

A Spectre (7+3 HD) Is Haunting the Flaeness: Towards a Leftist OSR from Legacy of the Bieth

Growth should be tied to a specific experience occurring in the fiction. It is more important for a PC to grow more interesting than more skilled or capable. PCs experience growth not necessarily because they’ve gotten more skill and experience, but because they are changed in a significant way.

Cairn FAQ from Cairn RPG / Yochai Gal

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Thank you Ram for the Story-Games.com deep cut!

( Image sources: https://knowyourmeme.com/memes/neuron-activation https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Majesty:_The_Fantasy_Kingdom_Sim https://www.economist.com/sites/default/files/special-reports-pdfs/10490978.pdf https://varnam.my/34311/untold-tales-of-indian-labourers-from-rubber-plantations-during-pre-independence-malaya/ https://nobonzo.com/ )

PS: used with permission from Sandro, art by Maxa', a reminder to self:

#theory #ttrpgs #d&d #politics #ethics

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prettieinpink · 3 months

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Hi I really love ur blog and I was wondering if you have any tips about nails, bc my nails grow long but are so flimsy that they keep breaking off and bending easily, no pressure or anything

♡♡♡

GUIDE TO TAKING CARE OF NAILS

DAILY CARE

Avoid nail polishes that contain formaldehyde and dibutyl phthalate as they can cause your nails to weaken over time. Highly pigmented polishes can also cause weak nails. To avoid this, take breaks from nail polish and go natural from time to time.

Use cuticle oils frequently, which varies from the condition of your nails. If you don’t have cuticle oil, vaseline or a lip balm is a good alternative.

Keep your nails away from dirty or wet environments. Dirt can nurture the growth of bacteria and wet nails are weak nails. If you have to be doing things that include excessive moisture or dirt, try to wear gloves of any kind.

Stop biting your nails and picking at them. While both are difficult habits to break, both can destroy the health of your nails. Be very mindful of how you treat your nails.

Wash your hands thoroughly when needed. Before and after you eat, you go to the loo, you handle food etc. When we wash our hands, The grime under our nails is also being washed away.

Nails are not tools. Don’t use them to open cans, remove stickers or open boxes. This will weaken them in the long run and increase the chances of them being chipped or broken. Use the provided tools you have instead.

Avoid prolonged exposure to harsh chemicals like cleaning products or acetone-based products. They can strip your nails of moisture which causes breakage

WEEKLY (AT-HOME) MANICURE

If you have nail polish on, don’t peel or pick at it but use a nail-friendly nail polish remover gently with a cotton pad/ball.

After that, if needed, file or trim your nails to your desired length. For smooth cutting, wipe down your nails with a wet cotton ball or wipe.

Get a bowl of warm water and soap to soak your cuticles in. Then use a soft brush or a clean toothbrush to gently exfoliate your nails. You can usually use a little bit of your body scrub or a tad bit of sugar. Then, dry your hands & nails with a small microfiber towel.

Apply cuticle oil or any cream to moisturise your nails, then massage that it for a few minutes to stimulate nail growth.

Apply your polishes in the correct order. Base coat, nail polish then top coat.

Moisturise with a nice hand cream!

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prettyoatmeal · 3 months

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hiiiii! i have a request for bimbo reader x simon?? (totally feel free to ignore this if ur not comfortable) like the 141 guys go out to a bar and simon's a lil tipsy so he calls his gf to pick him up? (ofc the guys dont know he has a gf) and she's like the exact opposite of simon 😀 and maybe she's not the sharpest tool in the shed ((:

love! - 🦷anon

Warning!! Fem reader, she/her pronouns used A/N: Anon i love you for requesting this. Bimbo reader owns my heart. I wrote this super quickly so please bear w me. Masterlist here!

It wasn't uncommon for Simon to be dragged along to the pubs with his mates. Have a few drinks alongside maybe a nice schnitzel or pie, just the usual normally. Though, not for Simon these days, knowing full well your cooking will bring him more satisfaction than the bistro's kitchen ever could.

After so long of service, all he wanted was to collapse on top of you and hear you squeal. He wanted was to hear you giggle that he's too heavy and 'Simon, get off! You're squishing me!' then eventually fall asleep to you cradling his head to your chest.

When the group begged him to come along, for 'old times sake' as if they don't go every time they're back from deployment, he reluctantly agreed even if he desperately wanted to get back to his girl. Though he couldn't deny the lingering feeling of being a little more homesick than usual.

They didn't know of course, but that wasn't to any fault of theirs. It wasn't a secret, nor public information. You just hadn't come up in conversation yet, and he wasn't one to spill his life anyway.

It was a miracle you two had clicked so easily, Simon always thinking he'd prefer a more reserved lover than you were. But he was enamoured with you, your bubbliness complimenting his silence.

He loved that you found so much happiness in your lifestyle, happiness in your appearance, wearing pink and short skirts and your wrists jingling with each step from all your bracelets and bangles. You were a stark contrast to his dull appearance, instantly brightening him up whenever you stood by his side. You didn't mind though, you were happy to be the one wearing bright colours for the both of you.

And when you, out of all people his team figured Simon's love interest could've been, they were surprised.

He found himself a little too tipsy, a little too dizzy to walk himself home, he was a little nervous to call you. Not because he was ashamed or anything, but just that he knew that he'd never hear the end of Johnny and Kyle's endless playful teasing.

With an old fashioned in his right hand and his cell in the left, he almost didn't want to put down the phone, struggling to not melt in his seat from the sound of your sweet voice talking to him over the phone.

While the boys were chatting loudly about how good the food is tonight, you were all he wanted. He couldn't help it when he was so used to you talking him to sleep about your day, the new shoes or purse you bought, what you ate for lunch.

Hearing you say "I'll see you in a bit, Si. Love you!" was only making him get more and more butterflies in his stomach by the second.

Walking into the pub, you stuck out immediately to the mostly male attendees. With your usual short dress that hugged your curves perfectly, a fluffy jacket and knee-high boots to match (which you obviously took off and put on again so you could properly press the pedals). You needed keep yourself warm SOMEHOW.

Looking around to spot Simon, he couldn't be happier once making eye contact with you. So when you walked up to him, Gaz, Price and Soap all exchanging looks, thinking you were perhaps lost. That was until their eyes darted to Simon as he stood up from his stool.

"Ride's here. Gotta go, lads."

"Did you say goodbye to your friends?" You asked him in a small voice, giving them a little wave and smile as your first introduction to them. And as he stood up, you wrapped your arm around his waist. Course, you wouldn't have really been able to keep him upright if your life depended on it, but it was the thought that counts.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Soap pipes up, a shit eating grin on Gaz's face as he spoke, Price more sceptical with an eyebrow raised, "who's this bonnie lass here?"

"My girl." His response was short and simple, "pretty one, isn' she?"

More and more questions come flooding from them. How long have you two been together, how come he's never talked about you before, how on earth did you two meet? Their curiosity had been peaked.

You happily answered their questions, obviously loving the attention they were giving you, though not without a few confirming looks from Simon, careful to not share anything he wasn't comfortable with. As you chatted with his teammates, his friends, the nerves he felt at the beginning had faded away into nothingness.

They loved you right off the bat, finding your outgoing and cheerful attitude endearing. Giving his friend a few cheers and comments, it was almost time to leave.

"Don't know how you scored such a beaut, sir."

"Aye, dinnae think you were the type."

"Take care of her, Simon." Price gave him a proud look that he could easily recognise even through his drunken state.

They were all proud of him, wide smiles on their faces, as they watched your smaller figure getting into the drivers seat of the massive land cruiser you two shared... and maybe a few laughs and snickers as you somehow managed to bump your head on the side while getting in, realising you weren't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.

After making sure you were alright, his stomach settled. He was finally home with you, a warm feeling filling him.

#call of duty #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #Ghost headcanons #Ghost cod #Ghost x reader #Ghost mw2 #Ghost x reader smut #Simon Riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #Simon Riley fluff #Simon Riley smut #Ghost Headcanons #Simon Riley Headcanons #Ghost Imagines #Simon Riley Imagines #mw2 imagines #cod mw2

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ohdeerfully · 6 days

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Hello

I live

Well, barely

OMG ISTG I JUST REREAD LIKE ALL OF YOUR FICS I'M GOING SGSJDGDJHFJDY

Your writing. I swear. It's so good. Like when I read any other alastor x reader fic I have this nasty voice in the back of my head going 'He wouldn't do this'. THAT DOESN'T HAPPEN HERE

You are a genius. (Thabk you for speepy Alastor coming from an insomniac is good praise, no?)

My personal favourites are

a. Either of the sleepy Alastoe fics (obviously)

b. Dry bed. Istg the writing in that.. Augh

Could you do a part two to Dry bed? Maybe they just wake up (Together!!!) and awkwardly get their way down to breakfast. Then they simply avoid each other all day, not talking, but still stealing glances at each other when the other isn't looking. Then reader finds Alastor chilling on the hotel roof the following night and they TALK about it. And figure things out.

Omg thabk you for listening to my rant I hope you are doing well byeeee

~❤✨

P. S. You and your fics are my new hyperfixation

hello!!!!! in general sorry yall for my absence, finals are literally next week so it Will happen again

im so glad u like my depiction of alastor hes literally so annoying to write... a dry bed is honestly probably one of if not THE fave fic ive written (though might be a tie with mourning dove) so i hope part ii does it a bit of justice (,: i kind of deviated from ur request at the beginning (they dont wake up together >_<) but otherwise i hope u enjoy! hopefully its not too obvious i kind of rushed it

mwah! <3

A Warm Bed

(sequel to A Dry Bed)

Alastor x Reader (hurt/comfort, fluff) TW: none really, alastor is probs ooc but who cares

join my discord!

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It felt a little bit too cold when you woke up, but you couldn’t immediately find a reason why. Your eyes squinted open, facing the curtains that were drawn just enough to where a peek of the morning light rudely shone against your face. You turned over with a dissatisfied groan.

Peering at the empty bed beside you, you stared blankly as wheels began to turn in your mind. It only took a few seconds to remember the previous night, and your face quickly warned as you hissed in a breath through clenched teeth, wrists coming up and rubbing your eyes with a sense of dismay.

Man, what were you thinking. You felt a strong mixture of regret and embarrassment but also… you felt lonely. The strong, strange affection from Alastor the previous night directly compared to him disappearing and leaving you alone in the morning made you feel all the more cold. The room also had an uncomfortable silence to it, but at the same time too loud with the hum of your ceiling fan.

Whatever, you feigned indifference to yourself and lifted yourself from your mattress, legs dangling over the side of your bed for a few moments, allowing yourself to get a quick stretch in before sliding on some comfortable slippers while you went to your restroom, protecting your feet against the cold tile.

You quickly freshened up, pulling on some comfortable loungewear before leaving your hotel room and walking down the long corridor that led to the steps. Maybe it was just your current mood, but the ambience was too quiet and uncomfortable.

Your spirits slowly lifted as you made your way down the steps, and you could hear the faint clashing of kitchen tools being dropped and thrown, alongside unintelligible and arguing voices, one doubtlessly being Vaggie trying to tame—or, no, threaten—the chaos.

The air, at the very least, smelled good despite the racquet. Though you were in Hell, the food was still appetizing—even if you weren’t exactly sure what it was half the time.

You must’ve made it just in time, as right when you turned the corner you nearly hit your head against Charlie’s shoulder as she rounded the same corner. You tripped over each other for a moment before she ultimately steadied you with a hand and a breezy laugh.

"Good morning! I was just about to tell everyone breakfast was ready…” You smiled at her gesture. Every morning she tried to host some sort of typical continental style breakfast that was standard for most hotels—that is if Niffty’s behavior permitted a successful morning—and the quality was usually higher than what you remembered in your time alive. Of course, you were dealing with the Princess of Hell, who obviously wouldn’t want anything mediocre for her treasured guests.

“Thank you,” was all you could offer in return before she passed you, doubtlessly to gently announce the food to the other guests. There had been an increase in residents lately, so you weren’t shocked at the piles of delicious looking food that met your eyes when you stepped into the kitchen. You could practically imagine sparkles dancing around the fluffy pancakes and still sizzling pans of various breakfast meats.

You helped yourself to a meal, carefully stepping around the growing crowd of other guests, who all, for the most part, seemed a little aggravated at being woken up but nonetheless pleased at the free meal.

A brief hush filled the room as the air seemed to get just a bit heavier, more ominous, alongside the new presence of a prickling against your skin. You didn’t have to look up, nor did you even want to look up, to know who the culprit of such a suffocated atmosphere was; you knew him well enough.

The kitchen slowly came back to life, albeit a bit stiffer and with quieter conversation. You kept your eyes glued to your plate of food as you made your way towards the dining area. As you passed through the entrance, out of your peripheral you saw the large, looming figure of the demon you had become unnaturally attached to. You didn’t look up or even acknowledge him, pretending to just not notice, but you could swear you felt his red gaze burning a hole in your skin.

A few minutes passed after you sat down before Alastor joined you, sitting in his unofficial assigned seat. The only difference was he didn’t scoot his chair nearly as close as usual, as well as the way his body was turned just slightly so that his back was facing you. Not enough to be noticed by other people, but just enough for you—though, maybe you were just overanalyzing things?—to notice how he was pointedly uninviting you from any interactions with him.

Why even bother coming to breakfast, you thought coldly to yourself, deciding to just feel mad about it instead of stewing in your own self-hate and regret. You had already spent all morning feeling stupid for the night before. It’s not like you even eat this shit. Go eat a dead deer or something.

Your fork poked aggressively against the food on your plate, head propped up against a fist as you mindlessly scooted the food around in a pool of syrup. You hoped to convey some sense of hatred to the demon next to you as you jammed a fluffy bite of pancake into your mouth—oh, that’s so good, your spirits were lifted just a bit as the slightly sweet and buttery pancake touched your tongue.

A hand touched your back, and you jolted in surprise. Naturally your eyes first went to Alastor next to you, thinking maybe he was finally over himself, but he had his hands folded on the table in front of him as he watched another table argue over something probably meaningless. Maybe you’re crazy, but did you see his eyes flick to your just as you looked away? You shook off the idea.

Vaggie sat to your right, and was currently eyeing you with a hint of concern in her eye. You shrugged off her hand as politely as possible before smiling at her with a raised eyebrow, trying to play it off with an ‘I’m alright.’

“People that are ‘alright’ don’t usually have some personal vendetta against a plate of breakfast food,” She said in a low voice, trying to keep your conversation private, particularly from a certain set of prying, fluffy red ears. “You know you have friends here. Especially Charlie.”

“Really, I’m all good, just… long morning,” You did your best to wave away her worries again, suddenly feeling a little childish. From the way she spoke, you would think she was talking to someone going through something serious—you were just having some guy problems.

It seemed to work well enough, because after looking at you for a few more beats she raised her hand and turned away, picking up a conversation with her girlfriend. You sat in your spot for a few more minutes, but the growing anxiety from silently and awkwardly sitting next to Alastor, sifting through so many racing thoughts and doubts, gnawed at your stomach. You finally stood up and excused yourself with a thank you and left the room.

You had no specific place to be, so you just wandered into the lobby and slumped against a couch. You briefly wondered where Angel was; he was surprisingly good at listening to romantic troubles, though honestly you probably wouldn’t divulge your whole “thing” with Alastor. That would probably meet no welcomed response.

You must have dozed off, because the sudden sound of raised voices startled your eyes open. Arguments and general anger were commonplace here, so you weren’t particularly shocked to find Vaggie and Angel Dust going at it about something regarding his behavior and the Hotel—a recurring theme in their conversations. Vaggie’s words fell on deaf ears as Angel tutted at her words with a waving and dismissive hand.

“I’m sure ninety percent of these guests would love to have a piece’a me!” He said, taking long strides across the room as he fixed up his chest fluff with two hands. He leaned his hip against the large chair that, much to your dismay, sat Alastor, his grin tightening as Angel approached. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as the spider laid his torso across the head of the chair.

“Even this one…” Angel said with a pouty lilt in his voice, finger dragging up the embellishments as he tried to play flirty. Alastor clicked his tongue distastefully in response before he stood up, hands folding neatly across the top of his cane.

“Not quite to my taste, thank you!” He said, looking down at Angel with an ugly curl in his lip. Angel only huffed in response before slinking down the back of the chair and taking up the space where Alastor previously sat, leaving said demon just standing there.

Alastor’s eyes glanced at you, so brief that you honestly may have imagined it, before he simply hummed with closed eyes and melted into the ground, the shadow where he once stood inking across the carpet before finally coming to a rest… behind the couch where you were laying. You grimaced as you felt his presence manifest again, sending a ripple of that familiar prickle down your bare arms.

Was this going to be your eternity now? Playing some game of cat and mouse where you have to leave every room you’re in just because Alastor gets too close for comfort? You turned your head to try to get a look at him from the corner of your eye, but immediately looked away again when you saw he was already looking at you. You couldn’t read his expression.

You sat up and thought for a few moments. Honestly, it was probably best to just go spend a depression day alone in your room. As pushy as Alastor could be, he wasn’t typically the type to barge into rooms without invitation.

Slowly standing, you managed to avoid the attention of the couple of others in the room—though, realistically, none would care if they happened to see you leave; you were just on edge to everyone and everything. You quickly made your way up the stairs, frowning down at your feet as you walked. You shot a sideways glance at Alastor as you rounded a turn in the steps, finally meeting his gaze for a few seconds before your view was blocked by the wall.

You sighed as you found yourself in front of your hotel room, a heavy feeling making you suddenly choke up. You ushered yourself into the room before you embarrassed yourself by crying openly in the hallway, but the comforting solitude of your room as you leaned your back against the door to close it made it a bit easier to breathe.

After ensuring the door was locked, you went to stand at the edge of the bed, frowning down at the still unmade sheets. Thoughts of that tender night came to the front of your mind at full force, and you bit your lip anxiously. The warmth of his body against yours, the tangle of legs and soft touches of lips… was it all actually, in a cruel turn of reality, a fake expression of care from him? When you had finally begun to think you could read the affection on his face…

You settled into the soft mattress, uncomfortably aware of how big and cold it was. You were no stranger to sleeping alone by any means, but after finally experiencing the shared space with someone you loved, the contrast was stark and unwelcomed. You did your best to ignore it as you tucked yourself in, letting your eyes fall shut in a poor attempt to sleep away your worries.

Your attempts were unsuccessful, and an empty feeling of longing and despair in your stomach grew stronger with each hour that passed as you watched the red hue of the daylight sky turn darker. You felt both restless and tired at the same time, lacking any energy to actually do anything to pass the time.

It all proved to be counterintuitive to the whole “sleep your worries away” as the hours you spent just lying down only gave you ample opportunity to melt in your own thoughts as the memories of last night kept returning. Man, why did you have to kiss him? You unwittingly ignored the fact that he had also played a part in closing that gap between you; you were honestly just pinning the blame fully on yourself.

Finally sick of stewing in misery, you kicked off the heavy blanket and stood up. You needed some fresh air.

You tried to walk quickly with a fake sense of purpose so, in the odd chance you passed someone, they hopefully wouldn’t ask about your absence all day—you were typically more present and friendly with everybody as you would often help Charlie with event organization. Lucky enough for you, you passed nobody on your way to the door that opened to some stairs up to the roof of the Hotel.

After a quick pace up the echoey, metal steps, you pushed open the large doors and greeted with a pleasantly cool rush of wind. It was still warm, of course, being Hell and all, but cooler than usual. You quietly closed the heavy doors behind you.

There was a spot on the roof you typically sat at during long, restless nights, and you turned the corner of the door before promptly backtracking and pressing yourself up against the metal door once again, jaw clenched in a mix of shock and anger.

Why the Hell was Alastor on the roof at your spot with your blanket that you had left up here on some previous night? Was he doing all this on purpose? Constantly getting all too close to you while simultaneously acting cool and indifferent towards your existence? Was this all just some sick game to him? Well… it is Alastor.

You peeked over the edge from where you hid to get a better look at him. He sat serenely with his back towards you, legs hanging over the edge of the roof. You couldn’t see his expression, but his body waved just slightly, most likely to the tune of some song in his head. Despite all the frustration you felt in your soul towards him, looking at him under the blanket of a dark red sky with a sprinkling of stars… he still endeared you. Especially when he looked so harmless and relaxed.

Just as you were about to turn away again and find somewhere else to relax, he cleared his throat, stopping you before you could even move.

“It’s rude to stare,” He stated, projecting his voice just enough for you to hear the light humor in his voice. “You seem like a stalker, darling!”

You straightened your shoulders before walking out from behind the wall, a frown on your face. You didn’t walk any closer—God forbid you accidentally do anything to hurt your relationship anymore, if that was even possible.

“I didn’t mean to, I was just… surprised, that’s all,” You reasoned, tapping your foot impatiently. “You are kind of in my spot.”

He hummed, absently pointing at the surface around him. “I didn’t see your name on it.”

You couldn’t really think of a response quickly, so you just stayed quiet, continuing to just stand in place a few meters away from Alastor.

He briefly put his hand down on the space next to him, patting twice in a vague invitation for you to join him. You thought for a brief moment before cautiously walking towards him, steps growing slower with each foot you got closer. He made no move to send you away—in fact, he even started moving the blanket in a way to make the concrete just a bit more comfortable to sit on. He still didn’t look at you.

Embarrassingly your hands had started to shake, which you realized when you reached your hand down to support your body as you lowered it to sit. You just hoped Alastor didn’t notice. You let your legs fall over the ledge, swinging slightly next to Alastor’s. You didn’t notice how he shifted his knee a bit closer to yours.

The two of you sat in silence under the still-darkening sky, and you couldn’t decide if it was a comfortable or awkward silence. Alastor didn’t seem to mind, so you tried to convince yourself it was comfortable despite the itching anxiety in your chest.

“I’m really sorry about last night,” You blurted out, unable to contain it anymore. Was it a bad idea to even bring it up? Maybe. But you felt that your relationship was already irreparably damaged so it couldn’t hurt to at least apologize. You saw his eyes turn towards you out of your peripheral, and you were too ashamed to meet his look, instead opting to fiddle with a fray of the blanket edge.

“Whatever for?” He responded after an uncomfortably long pause—this stunned you. Fuck you mean ‘whatever for?’ Your head whipped up to look at him, brows furrowed.

You had spent all die scared that you ruined everything between you and Alastor, regretting everything that led up to last night’s events—it didn’t help that Alastor himself was also blatantly avoiding you. What the fuck is he acting so confused for?

Apparently you said that all out loud, as Alastor’s smile was growing more and more strained with each loud word that tumbled from your lips. You didn’t even realize until you were done and catching your breath, but at this point you couldn’t care less to apologize or feel bad about it. You folded your arms and fixated your eyes on some random pedestrian below as another long stretch of silence filled the air.

“You confuse me,” He finally said, with a voice that lacked its usual radio tone. You didn’t respond, so he continued. “I feel these alien emotions when I’m near you—you bewitch me. And I don’t like it. I hate you for it.”

You couldn’t control the slight slump in your shoulders and the sharp pang in your stomach that his words brought you. Hate.

“But… I kill the demons I hate,” He said, looking away from you and up at the sky. “And I can’t find myself wanting to kill you. That has to mean something, though I’m really no man to figure it out myself.”

You cautiously returned your eyes back to him, shoulders curled forward as if to protect yourself against the blow of any harsh words. But, as he spoke, you felt that anxiety slowly lighten as you pieced together what he was trying to convey in his own strange way. Although, you weren’t really sure what to say in response, filled with too many swarming emotions—both new and old.

Suddenly you looked at the space between the two of you—was Alastor’s hand there just a minute ago? You looked up to try to get any hint of his goals; but, unsurprisingly, he remained unreadable. It was definitely safer to just ignore it.

Well, that got a lot harder when his pinkie finger stretched towards you just a bit, practically inviting you. You looked at his face one more time, swallowed your fear, and tenderly laid your hand down next to his. You moved it cautiously closer, just enough so that your pinkie touched his own. His lifted up and curled over yours, tightening in a way to bring the rest of your hand closer and enveloping it with his own. Your gaze was fixated on this exchange and you felt heat warm your cheeks and ears.

You both said nothing, but you thought the pounding in your ears would drown out any attempt.

Your attention finally broke from the hands that now clasped together between the two of you, turning up towards Alastor. You found that he had been looking at you with such an intensity it made you feel like an open book before him. His eyes had a slight glow to them now that the sky had fully darkened—eyes that were usually so malicious and secretive seemed to now burn with what you could only assume was affection.

“I can’t promise I’ll be a good man,” He finally broke the silence. His smile was small but strained, and his voice uncharacteristically quiet.

In response you shook your head with a breathless laugh, tightening your hand just slightly around his as you focused on the street below, watching the scattered presence of night owl demons.

“I probably couldn’t promise the same, either,” You admitted, leaning back and stretching out your legs in the open air over the ledge of the roof. You froze momentarily when Alastor shifted a bit closer, his knee now barely knocking against yours.

He reached his hand out, fingers curling gingerly but firm over your chin and pulling your face closer to his. He examined your face for a moment, red eyes trailing over every curve of your features before settling back to look into your eyes.

“But I can promise, cher,” The new name he referred to you as made the already present flush in your cheeks only intensify. “That as long as you own what’s left of my heart, no demon in Hell can keep you away from me. Not even you.”

His words were spoken almost like a threat in an ominously low tone, that heavy radio affliction dripping from his words. In his eyes was a sudden look of sinister intensity and devotion, something you had never even dreamed of seeing, especially from him and especially towards you. As menacing as the words seemed, you couldn’t stop the wry smirk that inched up your lips, slightly smushed between his fingers that still firmly held your head in place.

“I’d like to see anyone try,” You responded in an attempt to match his energy. This seemed good enough for him, as his smile lifted for a moment as he released you from his grasp and faced forward again.

You yawned and stretched out your arms above your head, popping a few bones in your back before you stood. He followed suit, deftly touching his clothes with one hand to smooth any wrinkles or crooked buttons—his other was still holding your own.

He stepped closer, nearly pressed against you, when suddenly the atmosphere around you seemed to melt in a swirl of black before being replaced with the familiar decor of your hotel room. He gave you a light nudge and you fell back onto the bed.

After recuperating and settling, you watched him from your spot on the bed as he draped off his coat and slacks before joining you in the sheets. His body language was tense and unsure, but to your own pleasure the stiffness in his shoulders lightened just a bit when your hands tenderly rubbed against his skin.

The bed that was only hours before too big and too cold was now inviting with the warmth of Alastor’s body against your own, his scent filling your nose with every inhale as his hair brushed against your cheek. Every movement was a shaky blur as you were still filled with a sense of disbelief and maybe a little bit of adrenaline from the unexpected switch-up from him. The mattress dipped and creaked as he tried to make himself comfortable, which took an awkward few seconds, but after finally settling in you found yourself laid against his chest, fingers trailing down his skin.

Alastor’s own clawed fingers trailed through your hair and he hummed the quietest tune, lulling you further into an exhaustion that you didn’t realize had been creeping up on you. You fell asleep to a comfort that you hoped you wouldn’t have to spend another day in eternity without.

#ohdeerfully #❤✨#hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #fluff #alastor x you #hurt/comfort #alastor fluff #not proofread #like usual #el oh el

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theghostshost · 5 months

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Can I ask how you learned to draw in the lmk artstyle? It's very impressive to see how accurate yet unique ur lmk art is compared to the show!

At first I simply did just trace out the shapes of screenshots to get an understanding of the proportions of the lmk style. as well as just stare and study for as long as I can to dumb down the style for myself-

Alot of my old LMK, Mainly OC art were just redraws from screenshots that I heavily edited and changed, like outfits were drawn all on my own and hairstyles ect. It was mainly just the body breakdown I used. like these-

I also have a little more knowledge on the style in general as a few buddies of mine, who can draw in the style Much more accurately then I can, Gave some tips and tricks! Like keeping in mind that drawing in the LMK style, the characters ARE lego characters and are meant to represent being made of molded plastic, and you don't want to draw somthing that feels like that plastic is snapping or breaking! as well as some style anatomy things! Before I used to freehand the eyes- Now I just use the circle tool and fill in. for coloring and rendering I just freehand it, but sometimes depending on things like shading (not always) I look at how LMK Shades things. I just do my usual method of flatcolor, shade sporadically but let it make sense, Throw some texture on there. Color the lineart, Blur the lineart a smidge and bam... Art. I'm still learning and studying. sometimes i cheat by drawing the pants baggy or the sleeves baggy so i don't have to keep up with drawing the "LMK Geometry" theres only so many cubes i want to draw hahah. In terms of my own "unique ness" I never stress over how "SHOW ACCURATE" I want my LMK style to emmulate, I just do enough to the poitn of "yeah thats the LMK style" and add my own flare like again texture or design in general.

#I think tracing a style from popular media is okay so long as you do so purely to learn how said style function and works #and be honest that you did use or reference a screenshot #NEVER trace another fanartists work #that's a line that shouldn't be crossed.#By tracing a shows style #I mainly mean like in terms of “breaking down” how that style works and give yourself a better understanding to the shape language used #in terms of

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finleycannotdraw · 7 months

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can u recommend some bands? i think i like ur music taste and i am terrible at finding music

ty :)

of COURSE I can <3 you’ve probably heard of some of these, but maybe there’ll be some you haven’t! I don’t know what you already like, so… here we go :)

Hozier. Yeah this was always going to be first on the list I’m currently listening to basically nothing else! He’s an Irish folk/soul/blues/etc idk musician who uses a lot of religious and mythological themes in his lyrics and has a lot of songs that include social justice commentary.

The Amazing Devil is a folk rock band with an incredibly unique sound. Their songs are incredibly emotional and have an awesome fantasy vibe going on—plus there’s two singers, and they often sing independently from each other, which is something you don’t see often!

Good Morning Bedlam is a bluegrass band that I’ve gotten into recently! They’re sort of like… a mix of the amazing devil and the crane wives?

The Crane Wives, while we’re at it, and

The Oh Hellos. they’re fairly similar and I don’t have a ton to say about their stylistic differences, but they’re all definitely worth checking out!

Florence & The Machine. Most people have heard of them but I always like to recommend them anyway

Alec Benjamin, if you’re into softer indie music! He has a lot of different styles of lyrics, but his voice is consistent, so he’s great to listen to if you’re looking for that sort of variety.

Chxrlotte doesn’t have a lot of music out, but I’m a big fan of the music she has released, including the ones about Good Omens! The others are more angsty which I love too.

The Family Crest is an orchestral indie pop rock band, which blows my mind. I can’t believe orchestra isn’t a more utilized tool in popular lyrical music, because they do it so well.

Good Kid is actually my brother’s favorite band, and I love them too. They’re also indie rock, but they have a very distinctive style and are easy to get into! Plus they haven’t released a shit ton of songs like some other artists, so it isn’t overwhelming to explore their discography.

Jonatha Brooke is an artist I only know about because my mom liked her music a lot in the 90s, but she’s got a super nice voice and has some awesomely relatable lyrics. I especially recommend her album Ten Cent Wings!

Midlake is a super melodic folk rock band. I’m obsessed with their album The Courage of Others, which has a melancholy vibe that’s super easy to get lost in.

Palaye Royale is harder rock than anyone else on the list so far, but they’ve got an awesome style. Unique voice and definitely darker themes in their lyrics.

Tears for Fears is a pop rock band that I love because my dad does. (My parents are musicians—I trust their music taste).

Toad the Wet Sprocket got their name from Monty Python, but PLEASE go listen to the Architect of the Ruin EP. You will not regret it. Also the song Something’s Always Wrong is like… entrenched in my very being.

Elbow is a band that I never see in fandom circles, but they’re definitely not obscure. Check out their album Little Fictions! They’re kind of like Midlake.

Will Wood ranges from chaotic and fun (The Normal Album) to absolutely soul-crushing (in case I make it)! Sometimes even both at the same time!

(I would’ve also put Paramore, Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, and other rock/pop punk bands I like on there, but I assumed you already know them.) (If you were looking for harder rock or metal, let me know, because this list is not that.)

If you want more genre-specific recs or even album/song recs, don’t hesitate to ask!! Music is the fuel of my soul.

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portfolio-of-dreams · 2 years

Text

just, friends? | yuta okkotsu x afab! reader

warnings: 18+, minors dni! enemies to lovers(ish), yuta is mean, sparring/fighting, (do you count that?), dom! yuta, a lil possessive, marking, nipple play, shower sex, spiting, slight exhibitionism, reader gets called baby, language, pussy inspection, oral (f!receiving), orgasm denial, dacryphilia, cervix fucking, tummy buldge, creampie, unprotected sex (wear ur raincoat), slight dumbification, reader gets spanked once, dirty talk (kinda ig), squirting, cum eating, cum … swapping.

w/c: 3.5k

a/n: back on my yuta brainrot. another thank you to @xshinigamikittenx for being my beta-reader. you’re awesome and your comments make my day. kissing u softly. REPOST TO SEE SOMETHING.

“Hey, watch it Okkotsu!” you grumbled towards the raven haired man who bumped shoulders with you as you walked on opposite sides of the pathway on campus.

“Maybe if you watched where you were walking, you would have seen me.” He rolled his eyes as he turned on his heels.

You didn’t know what it was but everything about Yuta Okkotsu made your blood boil. Everything he had, everything he was- you just hated. His stupid smirk that would plaster across his face when Gojo congratulated him on another job well done, even though you were his assigned partner for it. His cursed technique always got all the attention. Yuta is so special. Yuta is going to be the strongest. Yuta was the bane of your existence. You knew he didn’t like you either because he always requested to go on missions with you because your cursed tools worked well with him- he preferred to fight in close range whereas you were the long range assistance. You felt as though he asked for you because he knew he would get all the credit and he could rub it in later on. You were just as naturally gifted with your abilities as he was. But it was always about dumb Yuta.

You got so lost in frustrating thoughts you had walked an entire circle around campus. Well, what better way to blow off some steam then go train in the dojo? You took a moment to compose yourself and turned to go back in the direction of the training room.

You pushed open the tall, wooden doors to find your teacher inside. “Oh, Gojo. Sorry, I didn’t know anyone would be in here.”

He looked at you with a soft smile, eyes hidden behind his black bandana. “Not an issue, y/n! Came to blow off some steam it looks like?”

You just nodded your head and he clapped his hands together. “Perfect, I’ll help you out.”

You dropped your bag on the side along the wall and took a fighting stance in front of Gojo. He said whenever you were ready to start, but not to tell him or show any expression that you were going to swing at him. You took a deep breath, counted to three in your mind and exhaled. You stood there for a moment and then quickly bent down to sweep your leg at his ankles. He hopped over it without even paying attention. You kicked your leg up to try to hit him but to no avail. In one quick motion you were back on your feet, sending a right hook towards him to which he responded by leaning to the left. He didn’t throw any punches or really try to defend against your attacks. You huffed as you realized you were getting nowhere like this, even after twenty minutes of being at it. Then you got an idea.

You kept at the jabs in his direction, each one he dodged easily, not even breaking a sweat. You dug your toe in the space on the mat and fell forward. To which he stepped quickly towards you, catching you in his arms and you smirked.

You lightly tapped the underside of his jaw with your fist, “Got ya.”

He laughed in response, lifting the corner of his blindfold with his thumb, looking at you with a sapphire crystal eye “You sure did.”

And then you heard the most dramatic throat clear. You turned your head as Gojo set you on your feet, and saw the lowered annoyed eyes of Yuta. He walked towards the two of you, his eyes trained on your figure. He was slightly taller than you and looked down once he was close enough and feigned an innocent smile that spread across his chapped lips.

“I was hoping I could train a little tonight as well.” And he turned his head to glare at Gojo with honest eyes but you knew it was all an act.

“Sure! Actually, that works perfectly. It’s time for my evening teasing of Nanamin.” He joked as he skipped out of the dojo.

Yuta snapped his head back at you, growling at you to pick up your bamboo kendo stick. You stuck your tongue out at him as you turned to the barrel of sticks to pull one out to use. You took a stance in front of him as he slid one foot behind the other and bent his knees slightly. The both of you lunged forwards, sticks connecting at the tip with a thwack. You jumped backward and stabbed your stick towards his stomach which he jumped out of the way from. Your sticks clacked and snapped against each other with every swing. Feet padding against the mat floor as you two danced and moved in tandem like you could predict the movements of the other person. Yuta’s face fell and his brows knitted together, he wanted this to be over already. He lunged at you with his kendo stick, making you move to your left to avoid being hit and at the same time, he swiped his foot at your ankles, making you topple over.

“I won.” He said blandly as your anger bubbled over, jumping to your feet.

“You cheated. Playing dirty like that.” Your words seethed towards him as he gave you a light shove past you as you walked to the edge of the room to where you dropped your bag.

You rolled your eyes at him, before turning your attention to the floor to pick up your jacket and backpack. In a swift motion, he was pressing his body against yours, your back pushed up against the cool wall of the room.

“Funny that you thought you could take me down.” His hand moved up, holding your chin in his slender fingers. He tilted your head to the side, allowing him access to your sweat slicked skin.

“F- fuck you, Okkotsu.” You knew he didn’t miss the way your words collapsed.

His warm breath fanned over you as he placed his other hand against the wall on the side of your face, slightly above you, his lips just inches away. You let your eyes slip closed when you felt them crash greedily against yours, feeling sparks light up from your spine down to your toes. You shouldn’t feel like this- you hated him, right?

Yuta’s tongue dragged roughly over the seam of your lips, demanding entrance. You fought against him; only allowing him to tug on yours. He bit your lip hard enough for you to part them and slide his tongue inside. It was heated and rough- unlike any kiss you've had before. Breathy moans escaped your mouths as teeth clashed. Every sound was swallowed by Yuta’s mouth. Goosebumps spread across your skin and you shivered, feeling him smirk as he squeezed you, grabbing your waist so forcefully you were sure there would be small bruises, pulling you as close to him as possible. You stayed there with him, in a kiss so hungry, so needy it felt possessive. It suffocated your senses and dulled your thoughts to the point you only remembered to move your lips against his with the same vigor.

How much time had passed before you finally broke the connection? You finally looked up to meet his blue eyes, a blue deeper than the ocean abyss. The golden hues of the evening sun seeped through the cladded dojo windows and slanted across Yuta’s face. You felt your stomach clench and pushed his hair off his forehead where it had sat flatly. You dug your teeth into your bottom lip and inched closer, sliding one of your thighs up between his. A loan groan escaped his parted mouth, and he pushed your leg down to be replaced with his own.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this”- he smirks, licking a wet stripe along the vein in your neck- “And you were just getting too close to Gojo for my liking tonight.” He spoke as he moved his thigh up, rubbing it against your core.

“Yuta. We’re in public” You barely choked out between moans.

“Then I guess you better keep quiet then.” He growled lowly as his teeth worked the sensitive spot on your neck.

The heat of his lips caused your head to roll back, hitting the wall behind you, your sweat trailing down your temple leaving wet stains against the concrete. He smirked as he continued to kiss and suck at that sweet spot that made you moan his name. He would no doubt leave a mark, as he continued his movements against your sweet skin. Your hands moved up to run through his hair but he quickly grabbed them, slamming them above you with one hand wrapped around your wrists. You inhaled sharply as he rubbed his thigh harsher against your clothed cunt. Your moans became more apparent, echoing in the space. The hand he had on your chin, moves to cover your mouth as you hear the door open. He stands there, staring into your eyes, continuing to grind his thigh on you.

“Shh, baby. We don't want to be found” He smirks at you.

He picks you up easily, stepping lightly towards the open showers. His lips are rough against yours- needy and desperate to taste you again. He places you up against the wall, holding you in place with one strong arm as the other reaches over, turning on the warm water, exposing your breasts. He breaks apart from the kiss- a trail of saliva connecting you two together still. His eyes travel down to your perked nipples, you hear him mutter a shit, before taking one into his mouth. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud as the hand that's snaked around your waist, grabs at the plush of your skin. Your moans become louder, only slightly muffled by the shower running. Your hands, finally free- run through his hair, pushing his mouth further onto your chest. He continues to nip at the bud as he sets you down. He pulls his mouth off with a pop and takes both in between his fingers, twisting and tugging at the supple flesh. He watches as you squirm, chest heaving into his touch. He chuckles lightly at your groans and pulls until you’re released and then he flicks both sensitive nubs which makes you wince backward. He places a soft kiss to the valley between your breasts and moves his hand down your curves and starts to rub harsh circles onto your clit.

“Yuta. More. Need more.” You groan and you move slightly in his grip.

“Aw, look at you. A mewling mess in my touch. Looks like you don’t hate me as much as you thought” He speaks against your skin, licking down your stomach to your hips.

He pulls the rest of your pants down, exposing yourself to him. He licks between your wet folds, using just the tip of his tongue to tease you. Before pulling away to spread your lips with his fingers, getting too close for comfort as he inspected your cunt. You tried your best to close your legs as you felt yourself heating up in embarrassment. He pushed your thigh with his free hand as the other slapped your wet core.

“Don’t do that. Wanna get a look at this pretty little pussy I’m about to shove my cock into.” He spoke low as he spit on your clit lewdly.

He watched as your walls fluttered, begging for attention; begging for him to stuff it full. But you deserved to wait- after falling ever so “accidentally” into Gojo’s arms as you were training with him earlier. So he pressed his thumb down and rubbed your pretty clit. The way he teased you, the way he touched you- you were becoming addicted to the feeling and you wanted to experience more of him. He kept his face close, hot breaths eliciting a wanton moan from your lips as he slides a finger between your lips. He pulls his thumb away for a moment to pull back the hood of your clit and places a soft kiss to it, making your knees buckle. Your hands are shaking as you move them to his shoulders in an attempt to ground yourself. Your focus is waning with every pump of his finger- and then he adds another. His fingers prod at your gummy walls, slick coating them as they slide in past his knuckles, lips puckering to suck harshly on your sensitive nerves as his pretty eyes glare up at you.

Something about the look he holds as the water drips from the tips of his hair, his wet white tee sticking to his skin, the way his fingers are curling and hitting all the right spots. Your thighs start to shake and your breath catches as your eyes roll back and you try to brace yourself as you feel your orgasm approaching. But he stops, a soft cry filters over your lips- and he laughs as he stands up.

“Open your mouth.” You knew it was a demand but you were still trying to muffle your sighs from the denial.

He rolls his eyes at your disobedience and grabs your cheeks squishing them together. He shoves his fingers past your lips, pushing down on your tongue to hear those choked whines that sounded so pretty from you. You gag slightly when his knuckles touch your lip as he spreads your juices around on your tongue. He made your mouth close as he pulled his digits out, making sure you got every drop of yourself.

“You taste yourself? So sweet- why have you been keeping this from me?” His words sounded so sinful, your head was spinning.

He peeled his clothes off, tossing them to the corner out of the way of the shower. He stepped back into the water, slicking his hair back as droplets ran down his toned form. Curving around the outlines of his pecs as the bead rolled down over his perked nipples and followed the line of his abs down to his hips. The steamy atmosphere adding to your already spinning head made you see stars. You could feel yourself shaking as your legs wanted to give out, then two strong hands gripped your shoulders. Your eyes trailed up the muscles in his arms and saw the way they flexed knowing your attention was on him. You noticed the way his lips curved up into a coy smirk.

“I’ll take good care of you” He growled in your ear as he hooked your thigh over his hip.

He kept careful eye contact with you as he lined himself up with your entrance. His flushed tip pushing against your puffy folds, covering his tip in your slick. Your back was pushed up against the wall, his thick calloused fingers digging into the plush skin of your thigh as his cockhead slipped into you. Your slick essence and sinful moans spurring him to sink further into your squelching cunt. He went in slow but didn’t give you a moment to adjust as he pulled out to the cut on his tip and then rammed back into you. A choked sob escaped your parted lips as you batted your wet lashes at him.

“Yuta!”- you cried as fresh hot tears started to spill from your big doe eyes - “Please t’ too much”

He grinned seductively as he kissed the corner of your eye, “Crying for me, baby? Look so pretty”

His eyebrows furrowed as vulgarities fell from his pink lips as he set the pace. Pulling back and snapping his hips forward into you. The sounds of your wetness are muffled by his groans and the water of the shower raining down and echoing off the tiled floor. You could feel your body melting into him with every force of his hips, gasping with every thrust. Your head lulled into the valley of his neck, teeth grasping onto his collarbones as drool spilled from your lips. He ferociously, mercilessly, pounded deep inside you. Hitting every soft spot along the way, the way the thick vein on his cock rubbed against your gummy walls, and how he kept hitting the top of your cervix- you were at his mercy. He snaked his thumb down your wet stomach to rub your clit and fat tears of pleasure pooled down your face as you cried his name.

“Fuck. Look at you, taking me so well.” His grunts become more apparent as he continues to abuse your overstimulated clit.

You feel him hitting deep, each thrust makes your cunt clamp down onto him. He’s rough as his thumb moves and his fingers dig into your leg, creating crescent shaped indents. He’s hitting so deep, bruising your cervix with every obscene movement. You can only focus on him pounding into you, your nails scratching down his back, no doubt leaving scratches but you know he doesn't mind when he moans out loud. He nudges your head up with his and attached his lips hard to yours. Puffy and red when he pulls away, drinking in your exhales as he hovers over your parted lips. His thrusts got sloppy and his balls felt heavy slapping against the curve of your ass and you know he’s just as close as you are.

Then he pulls out. Making you wince and whine at the empty feeling.

“Turn around, put your hands against the wall.” You do as he says, you’ve been denied two orgasms now.

He grabs your ass, slapping a harsh red handprint onto your right cheek as he spreads them apart. He adjusts himself to your dripping hole again and slides back in. You swear he’s going to fuck the shape of his cock into you- and nothing after him will feel right. Your walls are stretching back out to accommodate him, creating a soreness in your legs. You're whining his name and begging him to let you cum already and something inside him snaps. He grips your ass hard, using it as leverage to fuck into you. Your thighs are twitching with each roll of his hips as he continually bottoms out deep into your cunt. His focus is on watching his fat cock disappear into you over, and over again. One hand reaches around to press against your tummy and you feel him all the way in your womb and your tears are gushing as they fall to the floor in front of you.

You rest your cheek against the wall and take one hand off to reach down between your legs to grab and fondle his heavy balls. He yelps at the new sensation and moves even harder into you. You’re pulling on his soft flesh, and feel them tighten in your grasp. The circling and bucking of his hips falters and you feel the knot inside you bubble up. He’s cursing and stammering under his breath, how good your pussy feels, how wet you are from him. His filthy words send you over the edge and you're spewing your juices against him- squirting them onto the base of his cock and coating his thighs. He loves your reaction- the way your panting and your pretty cunt is clamping and twitching. You feel the final tingle of his balls in your hand and the first warmth of his cum spilling into you and you squeeze your hand that's holding him, eliciting a loud groan from him as you milk him for all his worth. He chases his high, white slick filling you to your brim as it threatens to spill once he pulls out. He bends down to be eye-level with your pussy and he notices the small bead of cum dripping down onto your clit. He’s fast with his tongue, licking a stripe from your clit to your stretched out hole as he collects his spilling seed into his mouth. He stands and turns you around, connecting his lips with yours, his hand clenching your jaw to fill your mouth with every bit of what's in his, spitting the rest as he closes his mouth on yours.

“Swallow.” And you do, because you’re fucked too dumb to mutter cohernt words. Your vision filled with stars.

He snickers at your disheveled appearance as he turns back into the cascading water. You stand there for a minute, trying to collect enough strength to walk under the heated shower as well. But you sigh as your thighs shake and you slide your back down the wall. He rolls his eyes at you and takes your hands, dragging you into the water to clean yourself off.

“So, what now?” The only words you’re able to utter as you sit on the warm ground, allowing the water to rush over your face.

Yuta scoffs at your words, as he wraps a towel around his waist, “What do you mean? We’re just friends.” He walks to the corner to pick up his clothes and turns to go, leaving you to ponder in your thoughts over what the fuck just happened

tagging: @arlertslove @bokuroskitten @kazububs @fairyfuyu @httphaitani @beware-of-the-rogue @mrskenmakozume @blueparadis @momoewn @shinigamiplayroom || @planetonet @hanayanetwork @tokyometronetwork @downtown-roponggi

#portfolio of dreams #yuta okkotsu #yuuta okkotsu #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen yuta #jujutsu kaisen smut #tw: exhibitionism #tw: dacryphilia #planeto🪐#hanaya network

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 3 days

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oooh 70 on the prompts list with shane would be so angstyyyyy plz i need to see ur thoughts on this -galaxy

This one's got a little kick to it ough

70) "After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?"

......

"Honey..wh..what is this?"

"Can't you read? God, and I thought Alex was the only illiterate man in town-"

"I know what it says! But..I don't understand. Did I do something wrong?"

"Besides being a leech on my income for the past year and not doing a damn thing to make up for it....no."

"..are you crazy? I HAVE been doing my part! Just..take these back to Lewis and tell him you changed your mind. I'm not signing them."

"I don't need your signature. Just mine is enough to finalize it. I've already gotten everything packed for you..since you're too goddamn lazy to do it yourself."

"....what?" Tears stung Shane's eyes as he shakily set the stack of papers on the table, his vision blurring. He stared at you, seeing not an ounce of remorse on your face..but instead pure hatred. "Why would you do this behind my back? I-I thought...you-"

"What? You thought I loved you? Hah." The brief laugh that left your lips was cold. "Who could love a messed-up lowlife like you, Shane? I have a farm to take care of, a community center to restore..I can't have you slowing me down. It was a fun little fling, but now you bore me. I gotta get serious about my work."

"That's...all I was to you? A "fling"?!" A hurtful scowl formed on his face, hands shaking. "What about everything we've-?!"

"I only pitied you. And y'know, if I didn't care about Jas growing up without a father figure..I would've left you in the forest that night. I only stayed and married you to make them happy. But you blew your chance to get your act together..they're gonna be so disappointed in you."

As much as he wanted to respond with a snarky "I didn't know there was a time limit"...he was frozen on the spot, unable to say anything.

What could he say?

This was all so sudden...and just when he thought you two were doing so well and he was starting to have a genuinely positive outlook on life..

He made the horrid mistake of checking the mailbox and finding the dreaded papers.

"I'll say this was 50,000 gold well-spent." You grabbed the papers off the table, looking at the broken man before holding out your hand. "Give me that necklace. I'm gonna sell it."

"No..." Shane shook his head and clutched the mermaid pendanf, tears streaking his face as he backed into the corner. "I...I-I'm so sorry, I'll try to be better! Just tell me what I can fix, a-and I'll-!!"

Suddenly you pulled out a dagger and swiped at him, causing him to flinch and shield himself, eyes squeezing shut in anticipation-

Yet he wasn't injured, but when he saw his pendant in your hands now...he felt as though you actually twisted that dagger deep into his heart.

He collapsed to his knees, devastated as you sheathed your weapon and pocketed the amulet you once tied around his neck at your wedding.

By your hands, you two were bonded in matrimony...

And by your hands, that bond was severed.

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm sick of pretending that I care for some lazy ungrateful fuck. Goodbye, Shane."

And with that, you stormed out of the house..and he was left there on the floor, his sobs filling the silence in the now empty cabin.

It was already late when you returned from your mining trip, and once you finished putting the spoils of your expedition into the shipping bin, you yawned and stretched.

The time was 1:10 AM...and your energy was super drained.

You figured Shane was already sound asleep. The idea of crawling into that cozy bed and cuddling with the man you loved had you eager to take off your boots and put your tools away.

However upon opening the door..you immediately caught a faint whiff of beer, and it left a sinking pit in your stomach.

He did bring home a six-pack case today, and he promised to have it in moderation.

But the kitchen trash showed clear evidence of recently-opened cans.

Four out of the six, in fact.

'Oh man..it happened again..'

You knew that he wasn't gonna be able to quit cold turkey just like that. It wasn't a habit he could flip off like a lightswitch, and that's a fact you've come to accept.

Although he had a few beers from time to time, it was nothing like before. And he would always let you know if he was having some....so to realize he drank over half the case tonight alone was alarming.

Why? You were only gone for a few hours..

You entered the bedroom, finding Shane still awake, hunched over on the bed's edge with his face in his hands. He looked completely torn up, and you've never seen him this bad since..

"Shane, sweetheart?"

Startled, he looked up at you, revealing his eyes to be puffy and red from crying. "O-Oh..hi. You..y-you came back?" He hoarsely asked.

"Of course I did..without having to visit Harvey, thank god." You walked over and sat beside him, frowning. "But more importantly are you okay? What's wrong?"

He tried to respond, but the memories of that nightmare made him physically incapable of doing so...and fresh tears welled in his eyes.

A choked sob came out, and as quickly as he tried covering it up--it failed as similar heartbreaking noises followed.

You didn't waste any time pulling him into a hug.

Leaning against you, he sobbed into your neck, soaking the collar of your shirt in tears. But you just hushed him and rubbed his back. He didn't smell too heavily of beer, although it made you wonder what happened tonight that was bad enough to make him relapse.

Was it...you?

Was you being away stressing him out?

Did he think you wouldn't come back-

"[Y/n]...you sure you..really love me? And all of this isn't...a-a joke?"

Those questions made your heart sink, and you briefly pulled away to gaze at him in sadness. You knew he was still struggling with his self-confidence and self-image, often comparing himself to a "squishy bag of flesh" and feeling "too old", but for him to doubt your love?

Even after talking him off a cliff?

Even after going to the gridball game where you shared that first kiss?

Even after giving him the bouquet and mermaid pendant?

"After everything we've been through, you still don't think that I love you?" You asked softly, not with anger, but with worry.

"Just look at me, and look at every other guy in this town. You could'a had a doctor, someone who can still play gridball, a writer who lives by the sea...even that emo guy seems cool. But you chose me..."

With a sniffle, he clutched the mermaid pendant with trembling fingers. "...this pathetic..l-lowlife who doesn't do shit on this farm. I swear I'd change and get my act together, but I'm letting you down again...j-just like everyone else."

"Wha..that's nonsense. You do more for me and this farm than you could possibly know." You cupped his face, feeling his cheeks grow wet with tears. "You feed the animals, you water any crops my sprinklers could've missed...and those pepper poppers you give me help keep my energy up in the mines so I can come home safely."

"But..I can't even microwave them right." He whined. "I wanna have the energy to cook like you do-"

"What do you mean?" You frowned. "Last week, you made me a killer omelet when I went to bed angry over a Pepper Rex burning my favorite cardigan."

Shane blinked, searching his foggy brain for that memory, before it dawned on him that he actually DID wake up extra early to surprise you with an omelet he cooked on the stove. Made from Charlie's eggs, of course.

"Ah, that's right..well...I guess I'm good at some things.."

You chuckled softly, thumbing away the rest of his tears, your fingers brushing over his scruff. He recently shaved it, but it grew back rather quickly--like a crop infused with deluxe growth fertilizer.

"You're good at being my partner, and keeping me company after a long day." You kissed him in the lips. "I love you, Shane. Nothing will change that, even if you have relapses."

"I love you, too..and 'm sorry. I just had this really bad nightmare, and I couldn't fight the urge tonight."

"I understand, I'm not angry." Bringing him back into a hug, you sighed as he squeezed you tightly. "Did you wanna talk about it? I know it's late but..I'm sure it'll help us both."

"...you promise not to laugh?"

"I promise."

"I..had a nightmare you divorced me."

"Huh..really?"

"Yeah, you filed the papers behind my back and said some...pretty hurtful stuff, like how it's "the best 50,000 gold you've ever spent", how what we had was just "a fling", and...how I'm leeching off of you." The longer he went on, the more he struggled to swallow back further tears.

"....."

"I-It's stupid, but it...just felt so real. And when I woke up and you didn't come back from the mines yet, I thought maybe..it actually happened."

"Shane." You shook your head, leaning back again to bring his face into your hands. "No way would I EVER put that much gold towards something that stupid. This farmwork..it's so much to one person to handle, and I'm forever grateful you're here to help me. You're doing your best, and that's all I could ever ask."

"Thank you.." He nodded, finally calming down and realizing that what he dreamed was nothing more than a ridiculous nightmare.

You smiled and kissed him again, making this one last a bit longer before you pulled away. "I'll get you some water, okay? I don't want my baby to have a hangover in the morning."

Shane sheepishly returned the smile, allowing you to get up and go to the kitchen, while he got comfortable in bed and patiently waited for your return. His hand went to the mermaid pendant on his chest, relieved it was still there.

Even though you were probably dead-tired from the mines..you still took the time to care for him when he hit another low. You didn't see him as a chore or a leech on your life.

You saw him as your husband, your soulmate..someone you were willing to love through thick and thin even when some days were harder than others.

Of course, his depression might tell him otherwise, and manifest those insecurities into nightmares.

But you'll still be here for him no matter what.

#clanask #galaxy anon #sdv x reader #stardew valley x reader #sdv shane #sdv shane x reader #shane x reader #angst/fluff #hurt/comfort

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