#“imagine being brainwashed constantly!!!!!!” | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sugar-coat-it · 7 months ago

Text

Body piercer! Matty part three

Part 1, Part 2

I missed writing for this man so much my god he is my everything. If you haven’t read the other parts, go ahead and do that first for context perhaps!

Fem! Reader

Contains: Mutual pining, cutie newly established relationship, mention of marijuana, proud concert bf Matty, him being protective of girlie at the show, exhibitionism (light petting in the crowd), rough quickie (unprotected), public sex (bathroom), fingering and fucking on the counter, Matty puts his hand over her mouth, mirror sex, choking (with jewelry)

WC: ~6.3k

—-------------------------------------

PART THREE- Your new boyfriend takes you to a punk show, ending with a quickie in the venue bathroom

—-------------------------------------

Both you and Matty knew in your hearts that this wasn’t just a fling. Flings didn’t stay up for endless hours on the phone, knowing damn well that you both had work the next morning. Flings also didn’t think about each other for every waking minute, always sending each other sentimental messages when things reminded them of each other. And, they certainly don’t touch you the way Matty touches you: like he’s like he’s been starved of you his entire life. He’d frankly been losing his mind, constantly daydreaming at work as he stared at the Polaroid of the two of you he kept at the front desk, knowing he couldn’t stand not calling you his girlfriend much longer. Not after the past couple of weeks you’d been seeing each other had been some of the best of his life. He was so antsy over the fact that he couldn’t actually call you his that it was eating him alive, where else would he ever find someone as perfect for him as you? His work friends teased him endlessly for being so head over his platform boot heels, telling him how he needed to lock you down as soon as possible. He endearingly calls you his “favorite client”, but you’ve quickly become his favorite everything (“No. You don’t even get it, mate,” he’d said, rambling on to some poor guy whose ears he was piercing, “she's like… the light of my life, really”). But, considering that you couldn’t close your eyes without picturing his pretty brown irises staring back at you, his eyes crinkling at the edges with all his twinkling, wild mirth, you weren’t faring much better.

Just as you’d hoped from that first night together, his sleepy eyes were in fact now a constant in your life. He asked you to be his girlfriend after taking you back to the same cafe where you’d had your blind date. Needless to say, it was an enthusiastic yes on your part, and everything has been so much brighter since, you can hardly imagine your life without all of his ruckus. Your days with him are long and lazy, and the nights are even longer, often spent wrapped up in his sheets or giggling while curled up on his couch after a smoke session.

You’ve learned a lot about Matty in the time you’ve been together. Like his tendency to leave things in your flat, his ungodly marijuana tolerance levels, and his love for his puppy Mayhem. You’ve also found that he takes his music very seriously. Listening to music is like a ritual to him, one that he refuses to partake in with “trashy” music. You call it snobbery, he calls it having good taste, and lately, he’s been trying to share that taste with you. He’s almost been subtly brainwashing you into getting into his bands, playing their songs in his car, burning some of their tracks on his CD mixtapes for you (always scrawled with cute Sharpie doodles and bad handwriting), humming the melodies of his favorite songs to you while cuddling. Honestly, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t working, you’ve found yourself adding his music to your playlists, combining your styles much like how the mohawked man has slowly rooted his way into every corner of your life.

So of course, words couldn’t describe how thrilled he was when you agreed to see one of his favorite bands play at a punk rock show. He’d approached you with the idea tentatively, explaining that it was fine if you didn’t want to go, he’d just take one of his mates from work if so. The way his face lit up when you said yes, your heart could have burst as you watched his eyes sparkle with pure unbridled joy. Then, he leaned in and kissed every inch of your face, ignoring your giggles and protests of him tickling you while he declared how much you were going to love it.

When the day of the show arrived, you kept your outfit simple: baggy, ripped jeans, a white tank top, a band hoodie, and a studded belt you recovered from the depths of your closet, figuring you’d at least blend in with the grungier crowd that way. You put on one last thing to complete the look, hooking Matty’s chunky, silver chain (that of course, he’d left on your dresser) around your neck. You smile to yourself as you tuck it under your clothes, liking the feel of having him close to your heart like this. When did you become such a sap?

Meanwhile, Matty was pacing around your flat, making sure he had everything he needed and that you’d get there in time for doors. His reasoning for being punctual was much less about him than it was for you. He wanted you to fully experience being close to the stage because he knows how much you like to take pictures at shows, your constantly full phone storage being a telltale sign of that. He was going full-on concert boyfriend mode, also keeping your lipstick and your wallet in his little hip pouch so you wouldn’t have to worry about carrying anything but your phone. He’d clearly thought this through quite a lot, he’d been looking forward to it for weeks.

A sudden kiss to his cheek quiets the hum of his overactive mind when you approach him, his furrowed brows sloping to a soft look of adoration as he insists on you standing still so he can take a good look at your outfit. He holds his fingers up in front of him in the shape of a square, squinting one eye closed like he’s framing you for a memory. Sure, the relationship was shiny and new, but something about the way he looked at you told you this wasn’t going to dull with time’s cruel hands, not any time soon at least.

“Ohh, yeah. Very punk rock, baby,” he smiles slyly, chuckling as you roll your eyes.

“Hardly! I don’t exactly have the wardrobe for this.”

“Shh, nonsense. You’re like a regular Joan Jett, babe. But hotter.”

“But hotter? Wow,” you laugh, now glancing down at the jewelry adorning his hands and wrists, “I like your bracelet.”

Matty cringes, sucking a breath through his teeth while looking up towards the ceiling. He recalls just how he’d obtained said bracelet as a teenager with something to prove. He was never a bad kid, just a highly restless one who got bored too easily. Besides, he never got in any real trouble since his parents would have strung him up by his toes otherwise.

“Erm, thanks. I think I nicked it when I was a teen.”

“You were a delinquent!?” you exclaim, causing Matty’s loud laughter to ring through the apartment.

“That’s a strong term, innit? Let’s call it… misguided… and stupid. Now c’mon, out the door, miss.”

You shake your head playfully as he shoos you out of the flat, imagining a younger version of your boyfriend getting into all sorts of mischief. You can almost perfectly picture his toothy, boyish grin as he runs around the streets of his hometown with his mates by his side, freckle-faced and carefree, his curls in an unruly mop on his head. You wonder if you would have gotten along with him in his younger, wilder days. An odd part of you hopes he still would have liked you.

“Why do you still have it?” you ask as you start your walk to the train together. “What can I say? I’m unbelievably sentimental.”

The train ride is quiet, you share his wireless earbuds and listen to music side by side. The deal was that the queue of songs switched back and forth, you got to play one song, then him. He leans his head against your shoulder, the muss of hair atop the shaved sides of his head grazing your neck. He almost falls asleep as you start to scratch the top of his head. But, inevitably, all of his energy comes rushing back to him when the train comes to a halt. Immediately, he’s grabbing your hand to bound down the street to the venue, shouting about how good of a spot you’re going to get.

—---------------------------------------------

Once inside, at a glance, you don’t exactly fit in here. A sort of insecurity festers in you as you eye some of the girls dressed in spikes and leather, they looked like they belonged here, and so did your boyfriend. But, you try to shake it off nonetheless, even if you didn’t feel nearly as cool as you wanted to. This place was like the high council of people who exclusively wear clothes with tears in them.

Matty stands close behind you as you pack in with the rest of the grungy-looking crowd. His hands are on your hips as he glances around, making sure that you have enough space to stand comfortably. He knows how these shows can get, and he’s made it his personal mission to make sure no one ruins the experience for you. He shoots a look at any guy who tries to stand too close to you, the coldness of his stare sending them inching away from your personal space with cowardice. In an instant, the mean look is wiped off his face as he glances down at you, seeing how happy you seem to be there with him. He leans down, the cool metal of his chain grazing your neck as he speaks near your ear, just loud enough so you can hear him over the buzz of chatter throughout the venue.

“Can you see alright?” he asks, giving your hips a little squeeze.

You nod with a smile, having a fairly clear view of the stage. You’re only about three rows back thanks to Matty’s punctuality. You turn your head, grasping the necklace around his neck gently before pulling him down further so you can kiss his cheek. A grin breaks out on your boyfriend’s face, he can’t help but chuckle at your little move, he loves it when you get bold with him. His lips brush against your ear as he murmurs “little minx” before standing back up to his full height.

Matty talks over the pre-show music as he tells you a bit of background about the bands playing tonight, prattling on about who plays what and what makes them so cool. You listen to him with an enamored look plastered on your face, nodding along even when you have no clue what he’s talking about, but what else is new? It only makes you adore him more with every detail rattled off from the depths of his mind.

“... and this one here I don’t know shit about, to be honest. I reckon they’re probably fine though,” he shrugs, showing you the lineup on his phone.

You squint at the screen, tapping your nail against one of the names you recognize because of him. You blink up at him prettily, knowing he’s going to get a kick out of what you say next.

“This is the one with the guy who plays the drums with two pedals, right?” you recall, tilting your head at him, knowing damn well that you’re laying it on thick.

“Yes!! Yes, exactly,” he beams, his eyes instantly lighting up before he presses an enthusiastic kiss to your temple, “That’s my fuckin’ girl. The coolest girlfriend.”

Soon, the show begins, and Matty lets out an excited whoop as the first band makes their entrance, the one he’d bought the tickets for in the first place. He lets go of your hips, taking a small step back to give you the room to dance if you want to. He’s so considerate of you, it makes a glowing sort of warmth swell in your chest. You glance back at him and he gives you two thumbs up, his face scrunching up with a grin that’s so earnestly Matty, you have to resist the urge to just grab him and kiss him till your lips are raw right in the middle of the crowd. Not to mention how fucking good he looks tonight, his tank top allowing his tattooed arms to be on full display, and it should be illegal how tightly those black leather pants cling to his legs.

Your attention turns back to the stage as the first notes ring through the small venue, grungy guitar chords echoing off of the walls. Nothing gives you the same feeling as live music does, the pure thrill it makes rush through you is unmatched (sorry, Matty). The music is harsh, it grates on your ears, but in the best way possible. It’s invigorating, fucking electrifying, it’s thrumming in the hollow of your chest. You feel alive. Matty leans over to see it all happen from just a step away, watching the stage lights reflect in your eyes. He hadn’t looked at the band once, this was far more mesmerizing than anything that could be happening up there. You’ve completely captured his attention, and when you start bobbing your head to the beat and singing along to the chorus, Matty almost drops to one knee right then and there. He’s already mentally noted that this song will in fact be played at your wedding reception.

As the set goes on, his eyes stay on you for the majority of the time, he’s just so taken by watching you have this much fun hearing his music, which is now your music too. He’s simply beaming with pride. Every time you look back at him with that thrilled look on your face while you’re moving to the rhythm only solidifies to him that you’re his absolute dream girl. And of course, he’s having the time of his life too. Matty mouthes along to all of the words, nodding his head in a way that makes his quaffed mohawk bounce with his movements. And, shit, it’s hot in the crowd, you can feel the heat radiating off of the bodies moving around you. The hoodie you brought may have been an oversight, you can practically feel your mascara melting off of your lashes.

The show goes on, and when the moshing in the middle of the crowd gets increasingly rowdy, one man gets shoved and sent hurtling past the bodies between you and the mosh pit. You quickly hold your hands out to brace for the impact, knowing this can’t end well as you prepare to meet your leather-jacketed doom. The man is visibly very intoxicated and he would have stumbled straight into your body from the momentum if Matty’s hands hadn’t shot out to block him, catching him by his shoulders.

“Oi! Watch where you’re fuckin’ going, fuck’s sake!” Matty spits, sending him back toward the pit with a light push.

Now, had Matty done his fair share of moshing and getting absolutely catapulted into other people at breakneck velocity? Yes. It’s not even entirely the guy’s fault that he almost crashed into you, he was pretty drunk and didn’t have his wits or his balance about him, but in Matty’s mind, he might as well have tried to tackle you to the ground WWE style.

“I could have caught him!” you argue over the music, laughing at the bitter look on your boyfriend's face.

Matty raises an eyebrow at you and shakes his head with an amused smile, but doesn’t argue. Maybe you could have, but he wasn’t about to let some sloshed idiot break his girlfriend's back because that’s his job, dammit.

The band’s set is finished with a bang, the final chords echoing in your ears as you try to catch your breath from moving almost nonstop, your heart thundering against your ribs. You turn around to face Matty with a giant grin plastered on your face, letting out a breathless, excited laugh. He just chuckles, eyeing the strands of hair sticking to your face from the sheen of sweat, your smudged makeup rimming your wide eyes. He’s not in much better shape, his tank top is clinging to his body like a second skin. By this point, your hoodie feels like it has its own climate, and you’re dying to peel it off.

“Fun?” he asks, as you start to lift the fabric over your head.

“Oh my god, yeah,” you breathe, your voice muffled by the hoodie.

“I-”

His next words die in his throat as his eyes immediately snap to your chest, his breath catching as he spots the clear outline of your nipple piercings through your drenched, white tank top and- was that one of his chains around your neck? He feels a stir in his tight leather pants as his mouth slightly drops, he can’t remember ever being so instantly and completely turned on. Heat ripples through his body, climbing up to his face as he shamelessly stares at your tits. Not only were you showing off his skillful work, but your pretty neck was adorned with the chain he’d forgotten all about at your place. It might even look better on you than it does on him.

You’re tying your hoodie around your waist when you catch the look on his face, your brows knitting together with confusion till you follow his gaze and find your piercings proudly displayed through your shirt. As the realization dawns on you, you look up at your boyfriend with a coy smile. Matty shudders, lust crowding his mind as he struggles to come up with a coherent thought, one that isn’t wildly pornographic. He can actually feel his hands tense with the urge to grasp, to lay claim to you with his fingertips. You simply look up at him through your lashes, watching him short-circuit right before your eyes.

Before he has the chance to say or do anything, the next band comes onto the stage, the crowd roaring to life a second time. You give him a knowing look before turning back around to face the direction of the music. Matty swallows hard, raking a hand through his mohawk like he’s grappling with demons… and losing.

The music is nothing more than a pulsing beat in his skull, his attention is fully on the back of your head. He begins to inch forward to you, his hands finding a home on your hips while you vibe to the beat. He brings your hips back against him, feeling your movements stutter as the protrusion in his trousers presses into your ass as if to say “Feel what you did to me?”. You get the message loud and clear, draping your weight against him, your head lolling back against his shoulder as you both rock to the beat of the drums, sweaty skin to sweaty skin. Matty’s hands begin to wander, mapping over the damp fabric of your tank top, up your stomach, over your ribs till- oh. You gasp, the stage lights strobing under your closed eyes as he squeezes your tits through your top. Matty can distinctly feel the barbells through the thin fabric, it drives him fucking wild. Your lips part as you melt into him like honey, your skin feels like it’s on fire as the music blares through the venue. Your stomach swoops when he dares to flick the piercings with his fingertips, danger humming in your veins as he gets bolder, as if you’re not surrounded by a sea of people. Your eyes snap open, you quickly glance around to find that everyone’s far too enthralled with the show to notice, not that Matty would give a shit if they did. No one can hear the way you whimper when he pinches your nipples. You stare down at the large hands that possessively grope your breasts, feeling a throb resound between your thighs.

“Matty, you said this was the band you don’t know, right?” you call to him, your voice uneven and unnaturally high-pitched.

His heavily lidded eyes look almost black with the way they darken as he reads between the lines. Even if it was one of the bands he liked, he’s pretty sure absolutely nothing could stop him from doing what comes next, not when his dick is this hard, and you’ve teased him this salaciously. Wordlessly, Matty lets go of your chest and grabs your hand, leading you through the crowd towards the exit. He moves fast, the urgency in his strides and on his face likely making people move out of the way quicker. You’d feel concerned about losing your spot up front if your mind wasn’t so scrambled with need, your legs rushing to keep up with your lanky boyfriend.

Your head is spinning as he swiftly leads you into the nearest gender-neutral bathroom. Matty’s hands are on you the moment he closes and locks the door, he’s all over you in every sense of the term. You breathe in the musk of his sweat between the melding of your lips. The kiss is messy, it’s searingly hot as he desperately licks into your mouth, his fingertips digging into your hip bones. He backs you up blindly until your hips meet the bathroom counter, his hands reaching to undo the hoodie tied around your waist and toss it aside without breaking the kiss once. You didn’t think you could get much hotter than you were in the crowd, but now you’re burning up from the inside with white-hot desire.

Matty hastily turns you around to face the bathroom mirror, tagged with graffiti and littered with lipstick prints at the border. It was clear that the space was well-loved, but clean. A culmination of every aspiring artist and sticker enthusiast in the area, almost no spot on the wall was left untouched. Your eyes are drawn away from the decor as Matty grasps your jaw from behind you, turning your head to make you meet the almost feral look in his eyes through the mirror. He holds you that way as he leans down to press dire, open-mouthed kisses to your neck, his other hand snaking down your front to unbutton your pants. The feeling of his tongue stud soothing over faded love bites only makes you weaker in the knees. Matty fumbles with the zipper of your jeans for a moment before he shoves the clothing down your legs, the fabric pooling around your ankles. It’s clear that he’s not wasting time with his usual delicate, worshiping caresses of your thighs while he undresses you, this is an electrified frenzy.

“No bra, baby? Is that how you want to play?” he mutters, his lips grazing the column of your neck teasingly.

“I-I didn’t-” you begin to protest, only to be cut off by your own moan as he gives a rough pinch to your nipple through your top.

Matty follows the curve of your midsection with his hand, intense honey-colored eyes locked on you through your reflection, the image swirled at the edges with colorful spray paint. A shudder reverberates through your body as his fingers venture lower, dipping below the waistband of your soaked panties. Your body instinctually arches backward against his, mewling when his calloused fingertips brush against your swollen clit. It’s like he can light up every one of your senses with just a graze, your breath getting shallower by the second. You feel his stiff cock twitch in his trousers as you press yourself impossibly closer to him, every inch of his glowing skin flush against your back. Matty continues his loving assault on your neck as his thick digits gather the arousal pooling between your thighs. Your dazed vision trails downward as you stare at his hand shoved inside your panties from behind you, watching the fabric shift with every movement of his skilled hand. You whine as he circles your slit before beginning to sink his slicked fingers into you, your eyes squeezing shut as the dizzying pleasure thrums in your veins.

“Shhh. You know how much I love your pretty noises, baby, but be good, okay? Can you do that? Don’t want anyone to know what we’re up to, do you?” he murmurs, dragging his plush bottom lip against your ear lobe.

You nod wordlessly, afraid that if you open your mouth, noise will overflow from you uncontrollably, his fingers being knuckle-deep in you is just too damn good. If you don’t control yourself, anyone outside could hear you, could know how good your boyfriend is filling you with his fingers, satisfying you to your very core. The thought of it alone makes your heart hammer in your chest harder. You don’t want them to know… because that would be wrong, it would be undignified… it’d be… kind of hot.

His digits stretch you open as he begins to diligently pump them in and out of you, curling them towards the spot that he knows will make you see stars. He works quickly, his pace is almost feverish from his determination to make you fall to pieces as efficiently as he can. Matty’s other hand is groping your breast, squeezing the fullness of it, his rings pressing into your flesh through your thin tank top. You bite down on your lip hard enough that you think you might tear the flesh open, desperately trying to keep your whimpers quiet. Matty’s gaze on you is cautionary, his eyebrows slightly raised like he’s testing you, seeing just how much you can take.

The last of your defenses come crumbling down as the pad of his thumb presses against your clit, the flood of sensations making a moan burst from your throat as he begins to draw tight circles on the bundle of nerves. In an instant, Matty’s hand is off of your chest and is clasped over your mouth, muffling any noise. Fuck.

“I mean it. Pipe down, or I’ll stop,” he says sternly, smirking at you as he feels your walls flutter around his fingers.

“No- no, please don’t stop,” you babble against his palm like the idea of it was simply unbearable.

Matty’s hand stays firmly over your mouth as he withdraws his fingers from inside you, ignoring the way you squirm in protest, whining uselessly. He tugs your ruined panties down your legs, letting them join your pants in a heap around your ankles. It’s almost embarrassing how you can hardly contain your desire, but he likes it that way, knowing how needy you are.

“Matty, please, fuck, need it,” you mumble, and he can see the way your desire is clawing at you from the inside just from a glance.

“Be patient for me, my love,” he smiles, hurriedly pulling himself out of his uncomfortably skin-tight pants with his free hand, “You’ll get what you want. Being stuffed full with my cock, hm?”

You whimper as Matty nudges your legs further apart with his foot, leaning you forward over the counter onto your elbows. He whistles lowly at the sight of you, his eyes following down your spine, over the curve of your ass, and to your dripping pussy. You tremble slightly as he reaches between your legs, collecting your honey on his fingers before spreading it over his shaft, slicking himself with your arousal. A whine vibrates against the palm Matty holds over your mouth as you swing your hips in a desperate attempt to entice him. He just chuckles darkly, keeping his hand securely in place as starts to guide his cock through your folds, the head kissing your aching clit as he rubs it back and forth.

Matty doesn’t waste a second longer, you can hardly process it before he’s pushing inside of you, gasping as he fills you inch by inch. His fingertips press into the side of your face as he tightens his hold on your mouth to muffle your mewls, watching as your lashes flutter, your face contorting with pleasure. He can feel your hot, heavy breaths fanning into his palm, your chest heaving as he bottoms out inside of you. Matty groans loudly, tossing his head back as he’s fully surrounded by your velvety warmth, forgetting his own volume rules that he’d set for you. Hypocrite.

“Oh, fuck, you feel so good,” he sighs, reaching to pull your tank top over your breasts, “Stay like that for me, yeah? Wanna see your perfect tits.”

He barely allows you a moment to breathe before he’s snapping his hips against you roughly, letting out a strained grunt with every thrust. Sensations trickle up your spine like flickering flames as a muffled cry spills out of you. Matty angles his hips just right, hitting so deep inside you that you feel as though you’re being split open by each drive of his cock, it’s mind-numbing. Your whole body jolts against the counter with his purposeful movements, the edge of the porcelain biting into your hip bones. He can hardly focus on just one thing, his gaze darting from where he’s disappearing inside of you, to your gorgeous face, to your breasts. Matty’s raspy voice makes your eyes refocus on him, you watch in the mirror as he licks his teeth like he wants to devour you whole.

“You see how pretty you look? No, no, sweetheart, don’t look at me, look at yourself. God, isn’t she pretty?” he drawls, “You look so sexy, wearing my chain like that while you’re taking my cock.”

At his instruction, you meet your own eyes through the reflection, your eyebrows sloping as you realize that he’s right, you do look pretty when he’s fucking you. Your rosied cheeks, your blown pupils, your glowing skin… and your boyfriend’s hand over your mouth. Your chain bounces against your collarbones in tandem with your pierced tits, it’s no wonder he’s loving this position so much, he gets to watch everything at once. While you’re gazing at yourself, Matty reaches around and begins to rub two fingers on your clit, swirling them in intoxicatingly quick figure eights. You watch your own eyes go wide as the pleasure ricochets through your bones, making you light-headed. This must be the expression Matty lives for when he’s got you like this, the face to his sweetest wet dreams. You’re almost mesmerized by seeing yourself get railed to high heaven, it’s sort of an odd feeling.

In one swift motion, Matty lets go of your face and grasps the chain around your neck, pulling it taut against your throat from behind, ripping a shocked cry from your lips.

“Ohh, she liked that one,” he grins lazily, tilting his head back with a groan as he feels your walls clamp down on him like a vice, “Shit, not gonna last if you keep doin’ that, god damn.”

It feels like he’s stolen the air directly from your lungs as he lightly chokes you with the silver links you’d so slickly “borrowed” from him. Even just the slight restriction of oxygen has you reeling, your eyes rolling back as your hands claw at the counter, your whole body buzzing with mortifying heights of exhilaration. It’s a dizzying combination of thrill and precarious risk as Matty keeps a tight hold on the chain while fucking you with such vigor that you don’t feel attached to your body, the counter being your only loose grasp on reality. It only makes every drive of his cock feel that much more visceral, the tension coiling tighter in your belly. Heat prickles at your cheeks and the bridge of your nose at the purely obscene sounds of him thrusting into your sopping cunt, skin on skin echoing through the small space while his fingers abuse your clit.

It’s all building up so fast, quicker than usual due to Matty’s frenzied rhythm, his hips meeting yours again and again, unrelentingly. You bite back a wail as the tension so deep inside you reverberates in crackling pangs, threatening to break you to pieces as you arch backward. Your hips writhe against his hand both like you’re chasing the friction and trying to thrash away from its intensity. He can tell you’re on the edge of euphoria, teetering with every swipe of his fingers, every slam of his hips. He gives the chain a harsh tug, knowing it’ll send you spiraling into the depths of pleasure just beyond your fingertips.

“Fuck!” you gasp, one of your hands flying to grip his wrist as your mind goes impossibly blank, your nails digging into his skin, “I’m gonna- I-I can’t!”

“Shit, me too, angel. So close. Oh, fuck, cum for me, sweet girl. Cum for me while I fill you up,” he grunts, a burst of energy coming over him as he manages to piston into you even more brutally.

It crashes over you like a thunderous wave, spiraling through you from your dizzied head to the tips of your curled toes. He lets go of the chain, putting his hand over your mouth again to stifle your cry, the disorienting rush of oxygen almost making your knees give out from underneath you, and they just might have if Matty hadn’t kept you supported against the counter. It feels like pure white light is fizzling under your eyelids as Matty makes you reach the stars with your climax, dousing you in pulsating bliss as you clench around him tightly. He lets out a deep, animalistic sound as he spills inside of you, warmth flooding your insides as he fucks you through your orgasm, his rhythm beginning to falter from the effort.

“Fuuuck!” he hisses through gritted teeth, along with other breathy strings of profanities.

Slowly, his body stutters to a stop, giving one last roll of his hips before he collapses over you as delicately as he can, enveloping you with his chest to your back. He lovingly presses kisses to the back of your neck as your head hangs forward slightly, both of you gasping to catch your breath.

“H-holy shit, babe. You’re so good…you’re fucking incredible,” he mutters, seeming just as dazed as you are.

He can’t seem to stop complimenting you and loving on you as he keeps you held up with his hands on your hips, rubbing little circles into your skin as you both come down from the highest of highs. The afterglow clouds your head in a way that makes you feel like you’re floating with Matty being your only anchor to the ground.

“Matty…” you mumble, reaching back blindly for his face.

“I’m right here. Right here, love,” he whispers, guiding your palm to his cheek.

You smile warmly as you feel the scruffy sides of his head at your fingertips, Matty keeping his hand over yours sweetly. At the same time you both glance upwards at the mirror, letting out simultaneous giggles as you appreciate the state you’re in. He leans to kiss your cheek, peering into your eyes adoringly through the reflection, pulling your top back down over your breasts.

“Oh my god… we’re a mess,” you snort, rubbing aimlessly at your runny mascara with your free hand.

“You mean you’re a mess, I look damn good,” he jokes, starting to slowly ease you both back up into a standing position.

You both let out a breathy sound as he pulls out of you slowly, his cum beginning to streak down your thighs. Of course, Matty stares, swallowing thickly like he’ll never quite get used to the sight while he shimmies back into his pants. Diligently, he reaches for a handful of paper towels, keeping a gentle hold on your hip. You reach to try and smack his arm when he laughs at the way your legs are trembling, your knees wobbling due to how hard he’d railed you. He dodges the blow, grinning at you triumphantly.

Matty gently wipes away the residue of his pearly release, whispering a hushed “I know, I know” when you squirm at the sensitivity. Once he discards the paper towels, he kneels down to pull your underwear and your jeans back up, kissing his way up the outside of your leg as he does so, looking into your eyes with a playful glint. He kisses you deeply while he buttons your pants with nimble hands, not even letting you lift a finger as he takes care of his girl. You throw your arms around his neck, smiling into the kiss as he teases his tongue piercing along your bottom lip just to make you shiver.

“My perfect girl,” he mumbles against your mouth.

You stay in the bathroom for just a little longer, kissing and whispering sweet things to each other while your bodies fully come down, Matty shouting at whoever keeps intermittently knocking on the door to fuck off. You can’t help but feel a little tinge of guilt in your stomach for “christening” the restroom the way you did, but you highly doubt you were the first.

After he reassures you that the makeup streaked down your cheeks is “hardcore” and that you should leave it the way it is, you finally leave to re-enter the show (not before one final, drawn-out kiss, of course). Your boyfriend keeps you close by his side, his fingers interlocked with yours as you find yourselves at the very back of the pit, scattered with only a few other people. Matty guides your arms around his neck, grinning at you like a fool as you start to rock back and forth to the rhythm of the drums. His smile is infectious as he leans in to rest his forehead against yours, singing to you when the song reaches its chorus. He looks incredibly dorky as mimics the wail of the guitar solo, swinging his hips while his hands rest comfortably on your waist, almost like you’re about to slow dance. You tell him as such and Matty just tosses his head back with a laugh like a little kid. His eyes are sparkling, but not just from the iridescent stage lighting, it’s the look he gets only when he’s with you. You feel your heart swell in your chest as you continue to dance like you’re the only two in the venue, and he looks at you like you’re the only woman in the whole world.

—-----------------------------------------

SO I was a liar and I did write another part. I intended this to be a blurb but I had so many more thoughts about them and their relationship eeeeee

The ending was soooo “do you wanna dance, dance at the back of the hall”

I love them. I need them to be happy forever actually.

This one is dedicated to my lovely lovely friend B (@haveyouseenherlately) thank you so much for the ideas, you get body piercer like no one else, queen. Love you!!!

Go check out her stuff if you haven’t it SLAYS <3

#body piercer!matty #matty healy smut #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #the 1975 smut #the 1975 x reader #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy x y/n #the 1975 x you

234 notes · View notes

zzeraphilm · 5 months ago

Text

little white lies

Shinsou Hitoshi x GN!Reader word count: 2,517 summary: shinsou and y/n's childhood dream was to become heroes, side by side. but as you grow up, reality hits hard, and sometimes lies make the pain easier to bare.

Tiny pitter pattering feet crunched the granite beneath them. Two little children, imagining their powers, capturing villains and saving the world. With their school jumpers tied around their necks, their makeshift capes fluttered in the wind as they ran around the monkey bars.

“Ah ha! Stay back villain! The twin heroes Étoile and- Hitoshi, did you think of a hero name yet?” Y/N, the taller of the duo, snapped at the little boy beside them.

“Uhm, not yet I’m still thinking about it.” He mumbled.

“You should do some research! My dad showed me all of the ways heroes can be named! I picked mine because it means star in French! One day I hope to be a shining star that saves people!”

The thick head of purple hair bobbed up and down, nodding along to the ramblings of his friend. Since his first quirk manifestation, he has been scared to show Y/N his ability, brainwashing isn’t particularly associated with heroism. In Shinsou’s eyes, Y/N was blessed with the perfect quirk to become a hero unlike him. He remembers the day their quirk manifested, they were on their way to school and the scatterbrained Y/N tripped on the cracked pavement, bracing for impact they felt a beam of light pushing them upwards in the air. From their fingertips, the rays of sunlight had curved into a little cloud for them.

They were smiling ear to ear, their happiness so infectious that Shinsou couldn’t help but cheer. From then on, in class Y/N would mould the various rays of light from a lamp or fire into a multitude of objects, shapes and weapons. Their class praised Y/N, knowing their future success as a hero was guaranteed. Shinsou couldn’t continue to be petty around Y/N, his friend was quite literally the light of his life, and he just wanted to remain by their side.

Towards their second year in Middle School, Y/N’s life took a drastic turn. Their family had to relocate out of their town, meaning Shinsou would be left for the dogs in his high school who would torment his dreams of becoming a hero alongside Y/N. They promised to continue to talk everyday, Y/N would send extensive messages, updates about their life in their new town. How they befriended many people and have started their own Hero Appreciation Club at their new school.

Shinsou buried his jealousy like second skin. He lied through his teeth like it was biological to him. Y/N knew of Shinsou’s quirk, they reassured him that despite everything, he could become an incredible hero. But with the world around him painting him to be the perfect villain to Y/N’s hero, he despised the thought of being a hero. So when on their weekly phone call to each other, as Y/N rambled about attending a hero school and how they wanted to live up to their childhood dream. Shinsou agreed, said he felt the same and promised to live up to Y/N’s wishes. That was when the lies first started.

Shinsou got into UA’s General Studies course, his grades were excellent and the prestige of UA’s reputation around the world was enough for his parents to agree in his admission. Despite knowing that he had tried so hard to get into the hero course. It was futile, because a useless quirk as his would never work in a battlefield situation.

Y/N succeeded in getting into the hero course at Shiketsu High School, at the news of their admission into the hero course, Y/N cheered endlessly on the phone with Shinsou. So excited to finally see their dream come to fruition. Upon asking if Shinsou held up his end of the plan, he said he did. That he got into UA. He just didn’t mention which class, so Y/N assumed that everything was fine. That they would soon be reunited as heroes.

Being a part of the hero class meant Y/N was constantly busy, unlike Shinsou. His high school life was as ordinary as one could have it, he had thought multiple times to drop out and go to a regular school. It would’ve made no difference, yet whenever him and Y/N spoke, he felt guilty. A sticky, black tar-like feeling at the pit of this throat. He didn’t want to disappoint them. He wanted to be the boy that was always by their side, in every dream and every thought. He just wanted to be beside them again. And if that meant he had to maintain this facade of a hero-to-be, then so be it. As long as it remains just between him and Y/N.

“Then we had to do these 2v2 fights in a hypothetical villain attack. It was crazy, I think I really got into the character of a villain!” They laughed through the screen, as they tilted their head at Shinsou’s nonchalant hummed response.

“Toshi, how’s your hero studies been going? Do you guys have a lot of written content to cover?”

Shinsou stopped scribbling in his notebook, he couldn’t have Y/N think that they failed to get into the hero course, and was merely a general studies student. He broke his train of thought with a cough.

“Yeah kinda. Uhh, Mr Aizawa is getting us to make notes on past rescue missions for an assignment.” He had lost count over how many lies he had said, maybe this was the 100th one but he couldn’t remember. Just as long as Y/N believes him.

“Oh wow! To think Eraserhead would be such a strict guy. My teachers think it’s best to learn through doing, so my hands are too sore to even pick up a pen nowadays!” Before they could finish their sentence they yawned loudly. “Ah, I’m so sorry Toshi, I’ve been so tired lately.”

Shinsou couldn’t help but smile at how cute they looked trying to stop themselves from falling asleep.

“Then go to bed stinky. You gotta wake up early tomorrow,” With a light hum and a slow nod with their head, Y/N waved him goodbye.

Shinsou was afraid of course, if Y/N found out the truth, that their childhood friend was a disgusting liar with a villainous quirk so of course he would manipulate them into believing everything he said. His mind was full of self-sabotaging and self-despising thoughts. He could only shove his mind into his studies to cover up the screams in his head.

News of the attack in USJ spread across the school like wildfire, the thought of a villain attack sent a shivers down the spine of every student. Of course, the news spread to the rest of the country, with Y/N spamming Shinsou’s phone with endless missed calls and messages. Shit. He was so busy lately with his studies that he forgot about Y/N thinking he was with the hero class.

12 missed calls from Y/N ☆ Hitoshi answer me Pls Pls answer me R u okay?!?? Pick up my calls!

“Hello?”

“Hitoshi! Where are you? Are you okay? Did you get hurt? I saw the news and- oh God I can’t even- Please tell me you’re not hurt!”

Y/N’s mind was spiralling out of control, endless visions of Shinsou hurt and pinned down by a villain flooded their mind. They felt sick with anxiety, they had cried themselves to sleep the night before thinking the worst because Shinsou hadn’t responded to them.

“I’m okay. I’m fine, luckily I called in sick.” He mumbled.

Relief flooded over their body, Y/N physically felt the weight of worry be lifted from their soul.

“Thank goodness, how are your classmates? Are they recovering okay? I’m so sorry you guys had to go through that. You know can always talk to me Toshi. I know we’ve been busy lately to even talk but I’m always here for you.”

Shinsou felt dirty, he felt disgusting for the lies that he had laid. He had dug himself in his own grave by this point.

“Yeah, thanks Y/N. I’ve- I’ve got to go there’s some stuff I’ve got to do.”

“Of course Toshi, just message me when you get home! Stay safe.” Click.

The two tried to speak regularly, but with the stress of their hero activities and Shinsou’s growing guilt turned resentful - they hadn’t spoken in over a month. The UA Sports Festival was fast approaching and Y/N had already been bragging to the rest of their friends about Shinsou. How excited they were to see him on the screen, hyping everyone in the room with their shining persona. Any mention of Shinsou, Y/N instantly beamed and everyone knew from a mile away how much the boy meant to them. The rest of Class 1-A at Shiketsu had their eyes glued to the screen upon the announcement of the UA Sports Festival. Y/N was busy writing their message to Shinsou wishing him luck. Despite the extensive chat history largely consisting of missed calls and messages from Y/N.

Shinsou tried to block out Y/N from his life the last few weeks, muting their messages and focusing their studies. Seeing Class 1-A at UA going about their days ignited a fire within him. He had been so spiteful of himself, for lying to Y/N about his hero journey, it only justified his own beliefs that he couldn’t become a hero like them. To then seeing the danger 1-A posed for the rest of the school, he felt cluster of emotions, ranging from spite, hatred, jealousy, envy and disappointment. Mainly towards himself. His self-sabotaging behaviour had only fuelled his disbelief over himself, seeing others succeed in the dream he and Y/N had made him sick.

By now, he did not care for Y/N, he had become blinded by his envy. His self-hatred. His new found desire to win.

“Guys it’s starting!” Y/N had invited their classmates and close friends to their parents’ home to watch the sports festival together. They huddled around the television screen, on the sofa, the floor and even on top of each others laps. Bags of chips and snacks messily spread across the table and multiple cups of juice were handed out. They were all excited to see the infamous Shinsou Hitoshi that their beloved classmate would fawn over.

The silent shock that cast over the room was deafening, Shinsou walked out along with the general studies class and all of a sudden the attention was towards Y/N. It moved so fast that they barely noticed they had moved onto the next class. Nobody wanted to call Y/N’s bluff and continued to watch in silence. Each move that Shinsou took didn’t live up to the heroic version of him in their minds. Some even saw him as, villainous. Y/N didn’t speak, didn’t take a sip or eat anything. Their eyes were glued to the screen, jaw tightly locked in position and their fists balled till their skin turned white.

The day was supposed to be a fun, class get together at their friends house to cheer for their favourite UA student. No one would’ve guessed that it was all a lie. Some of their classmates knew of Shinsou’s quirk briefly, some had no idea that he could brainwash people. So during the student-student battle rounds, they were left shocked at how unsportsmanlike Shinsou was, the way he manipulated his quirk to win. He was nothing like how Y/N described him, this boy who was full of wonder and was always determined to be by Y/N’s side. Some of the students felt sick, some of the students resembled the same kinds of people that swayed Shinsou away from his dreams of becoming a hero. Before the fight between Midoriya Izuku and Shinsou could take place, Y/N turned off the TV and walked out the room. No one tried to console them.

Well done for today. Call me when you’re free.

“Y/N, you there?”

“Shinsou why did you lie to me?”

His heart almost skipped a beat at his exposure.

“I didn’t mean to lie to you.”

A new found anger filled Y/N’s voice, they screamed. “But you did! For almost half a year! You pretended to be a part of 1-A, I thought you almost died at USJ! Yet I see you on national television using your quirk like your some sort of-“

“Some sort of what?! Villain? I fought damn hard today, I’m not having you prove them all right!”

The call cut abruptly, both Y/N and Shinsou were left aghast. Years of dreams together and years of friendship. Suddenly began to melt away. Had their feelings for each other, their dreams to be together side by side as heroes come to an end now?

Since they last spoke on the phone, Y/N became fully integrated into Shiketsu High’s hero course, ignoring the rest of the world around them. Allowing themselves to be swallowed whole by their hero activities. Despite their hard work, their mind was always elsewhere. Their last conversation with Shinsou left a bitter taste in their mouth that nothing could clean out. Maybe if they had been more understanding, they could’ve fixed everything.

Unlike a few of their classmates, Y/N pass their Provisional Licence exam with a breeze. Only a few more steps closer to becoming a pro, was all that was driving Y/N to continue with their studies. Their endless spiralling thoughts had consumed them to the point of delusion that only a harsh voice from a certain pro-hero caught broke their train of thought.

“Are you Y/N L/N?”

They whipped their head around to face the Erasure hero, Eraserhead. Aizawa Shota, who upon close inspection, was the older spitting image of Shinsou. Y/N cursed how the image of Shinsou followed them everywhere they turned.

“You’re friends with Shinsou Hitoshi from UA, yes?” They gave a hesitant nod.

“Well he reached out to me to train him, tell me. Do you think he can do it, train to become a hero?” His stagnant voice held no indication of hope nor malice. So this was Class 1-A’s teacher.

Y/N could only recall the memories of their childhood with Shinsou, where despite his smaller frame compared to other kids, his slight stammer as a child. He would always stand up for Y/N no matter what, he would always hold their hand whenever it would get dark sooner than expected. How Shinsou would always give them the other half of his candy to make sure that Y/N would always have something to eat or smile at. How no matter what Shinsou would be by their side, even if they were apart, the spirit of him was always leaning over them. Y/N knew, from the very first day they met him, that Shinsou was their hero.

“Yes. I know he can become the greatest hero, because he’s always been mine.”

#bnha #bnha x reader #mha #mha x reader #mha angst #mha shinsou #shinsou x reader #shinso hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader #shinsou angst #shinsou fanfic #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic

124 notes · View notes

ajaxless · 8 months ago

Text

Doctor Harper being like...The "grown up" version of Kylar. Got sent to the psych ward for being a little too silly (went yandere) and hypnotized everyone into letting him out. Could you fucking imagine how scary that would be to be his (former?) Darling?

Harper as your dweeb classmate. Always has his nose tucked in a book, usually shows up to school with bruises, you can't tell if it's from his home life or from the bullies. You end up taking pity on the poor guy and get into the habit of taking him to the nurse at school to get him ice packs and bandaids. Over time Harper comes out of that quiet and polite facade and brags to anyone that will listen that the two of you are lovers. Except, no, you're not, you never would have agreed to such a thing. Sure, it's sweet that he walks you to each and every class you have and insists on carrying your books, but you never saw him in that light. You were just being kind! He got the wrong idea.

So, when Harper makes you lunch after you forgot yours at home, you don't think twice about it, typical Harper! Harper babbles on about how he's been studying how to become a doctor. That way, you two won't have to rely on the school nurse anymore. Maybe you could be his nurse? You could stay by his side all day while he works and dote on him as his lovely assistant!

Unfortunately for you, you don't get to correct him because the drugs he slipped in knocked you out before he could finish. Harper mumbles something about skipping the chapter on sedatives in his textbook and drags you home. Nobody thinks twice to stop him, most people don't even notice him.

Cue basement scene similar to Kylar's, except Harper is less paranoid and panicked. I think he'd just be delusional and convinced that the two of you are together. Defiant! Darling could resist him and snap him out of the delusional state, only to send him into a fit of anger. Submissive / compliant! Darling goes along with it out of pity / fear.

Here are some things I imagine when being abducted by Harper

He never yells and constantly refers to you by a pet name and never your actual name. In his eyes, your name is like...The main piece of your identity. By stripping it from you, he's stripping you from who you are as a person in order to brainwash you into thinking your entire life revolves him. You are his darling. Nothing more, nothing less.

When you deny him, he probably just ignores it or smiles at you while pretending you said something else. Creepy bastard will respond out loud to an imaginary conversation he had with you. Example: Harper tries to feed you, and you spit food in his face, only for him to grin and say that he thinks the food tastes good too, then thanks you for sharing. Says things like "I love you too" even when you didn't actually say anything. If you point out that you didn't say anything, he just gives you a funny look like you're the crazy one here. I live with the idea of PC spitting in his face and Harper responding by taking two fingers, gathering the spit on them, then sucking the spit off and groaning.

Harper doesn't think other people are going to hurt you / take you away and he doesn't want to keep you safe. I think he'd hurt you on purpose just so he can take care of you like you used to take care of him at school. That and out of revenge for being rejected. He doesn't feel threatened by other people because he's delusional and convinced it wouldn't be possible for you to like anyone else. Never ever takes his jealousy out on you. You're just too dumb for your own good, silly little thing.

Harper absolutely tries gaslighting you so he can be the "sane" boyfriend that takes care of you. You're just crazy, ahaha, your memory is soooo terrible. Thats not how it happened. Harper never said that. Have you been taking your medicine?

That Kylar event where they pull a knife to your throat, but this time it's just Harper showing off a new needle that may or may not contain an aphrodisiac. He might just have to "test" to see what's in the syringe. I mean, unless you can convince him not to inject you by having sex with him. Either way, You're going to get fucked. With or without the aphrodisiac is up to you.

Harper's cooking is actually good. Made specifically to be healthy and have all the vitamins and nutrients you need. Only downside is he sometimes spits in the food :( might even do it right in front of you and then laughs it off. Says it's like indirectly kissing you and it's no big deal, he always does this and has been since you let him make you lunches at school. Hearing this is ++stress

Harper doesn't write you songs, instead he makes poetry. You can't read the poems, his handwriting is terrible. (Haha, get it? Cus he's a doctor?)

Forced cuddle sessions, I can feel it. Also a messy kisser. Drools everywhere and giggles the entire time. I think Harper is a humper, cums in his pants all the time

There are two ways to escape:

Resist Harper enough until he gets frustrated and tries to get manipulate you into behaving by guilt tripping you. Harper injures himself in a minor way and insists you take care of him like you used to at school, telling you to go upstairs and get ice from his freezer...Only for you to bolt out the front door instead

Or by screaming until the neighbors hear and the cops come to investigate. Screaming only works at night, and you have to do it five times in a row when given the ability to do it. This sucks because it makes you lose a turn, and you can't resist Harper whichs lead to a noncon encounter

Either way, by the end of it Harper gets arrested. He abducted you and had a lab that made stimulants / pepper spray / sedatives and kept stealing ingredients from the pharmacy downtown. Either he gets arrested for his stash of illegal drugs / weapons or he gets arrested for a ducting you. They determine he's insane or he goes to court and pleads not guilty by insanity.

You go a few years without seeing or hearing from him, believing he'll rot in jail forever and move on with your life. Then you find out your doctor retired and have to head to the hospital to fill out paperwork to change who your primary doctor should be, and wouldn't you know it? Harper's name is one of the options. Obviously, you don't want him to be your new doctor, but either way, he just forges the paperwork and makes you his patient.

You get called in for an appointment per usual, expecting a new doctor and Harper walks in with that stupid smile while clutching a clipboard with your medical history on it. You try to resist, but a bunch of nurses come in and restrain you and tie you to the table with leather straps that were hidden under the mattress. The entire time Harper just watches with a smile.

I think Harper would immediately confess that he's not a real doctor. He never went to school or graduated. He would've, but you got him arrested. He starts bragging about how he hypnotized your old doctor and took his place to escape, then realized he had a lot of authority and began doing whatever he wanted. Shortly after, he discovered that you still lived in town and jumped on the opportunity to get you back.

There's no harm in telling you this. Because who would believe you? You're crazy.

"Scream as much as you like, my love. The neighbors won't hear you this time."

#degrees of lewdity #harper dol #harper the doctor #degrees of lewdity harper

184 notes · View notes

zachfoxx121 · 4 months ago

Text

Okay so I really really really like Russell Adler

Here are some of my favourite headcannons for him. (Featuring other cold war characters)

Alright so first up is his past!! Bro was born in 1937, between WW1 and WW2. He knows both German and Russian, so I like to think either his mom or dad (hell, maybe both) are immigrants from around those areas of Europe. To push that, his file doesn't say where he was born, just the date he was born. And a language is arguably easier learned if its in a household than in a book. Pronunciation and all that. Maybe his parents/one of them were Jewish too, and thats why they immigrated to the USA? It's also debatable if he was even born in the USA, since as I before mentioned, his birthplace isn't filed.

This headcannon is kinda borrowed, I cant remember who I original saw say it, but due to Adler's scar he has trouble/can't smile. It happened after 1968, but before 1981. When you ask him how he got his scar, he doesn't give a truthful answer, like Parks had said. "Oh I had trouble with a girl," "missed and fell," or "a tiger got me." My biggest guess, just from how it looks like a shrapnel wound, is its probably embarrassing. I like to think it was from a mine, maybe even a helicopter accident. But due to its position, it mightve damaged some facial muscles, and makes it hard to upturn a side/both sides of his lips. With scars, depending on how deep, nerve endings get fucked up and make it hard to move certain muscles, yknow?

This ones a bit silly, and has to do with Bell (I always play Bell as male, so sorry if I say "he" instead of "they" as their pronoun.) because I'm such a sucker for their relationship. Since Bell just kinda gets dumped on him, and their about the same build/height, I like to imagine he just dumps all his old/unwanted clothes into Bell's closet. In his file people he works with have described him as fashionable, and I don't know how good he gets paid, so he might go through clothes pretty fast to keep up with the times.

(Also for fem Bell, I imagine it's the same as this but with Park's old/unwanted clothes.)

Building on that, hes probably fashionable so wherever he is he doesn't seem out of place. With his scar it may be a bit difficult to blend in, but if he wears stylish enough clothes thats probably what grabs people attention more. "That guy had such a nice jacket," "did you see his shoes?" Even the difference between his '81 look and his new '91 do good to show his ability to keep up with fashion.

This headcannon is a bit more for Bell, but depending on which occupation you give them (CIA, MI6, ex-KGB) I like to imagine thats the accent they have post brainwash. With CIA, he has Adler's accent, and MI6 he copies Park's. With ex-KGB just a russian accent, which would probably be more realistic since it can be difficult to literally change an accent, but bro was experimented on so much it could have!!

I mention Adler in that because I like thinking of Bell saying a word and everyone being like "why'd they say it like Adler", because even in the USA theres so many accents!! Like even Mason and Woods have slightly different accents, especially if you think about the og voices in bo1.

This headcannon is a bit sad (and a big spoiler for the end of the "Good Ending"). After Adler shoots Bell, I think he stayed to make sure Bell was really dead. To make sure they bled out. In that though, I think he let Bell have one of his cigs, even smoked with him while he died. "Least I can do for you, kid." He didn't let Bell die alone. I really think it was hard for him to kill Bell, but he just had to shut the feeling down because it was (most likely) an order. Even though its probably more likely he shot Bell in the head, better than Arash did.

Anywho thats all I feel like typing out rn have fun with these some of them are constantly playing in my head!!!! :)))

#russell adler #call of duty #headcannons #Russell Adler headcannons #just wanted to type these out tbh

57 notes · View notes

vroomvroomwee · 1 year ago

Text

I don't think enough people realise how incredible Aziraphale is.

He's always known how good and kind Crowley is. Even from the beginning. Now imagine being in his place, after meeting such a wonderful and sweet angel, and hearing that he's fallen, that he's evil and wicked. No wonder he was sceptical and on edge at the garden... except Crowley was still the same, chatty, witty, and funny angel he met before the beginning. Crowleys fall terrifies him because in his mind, if someone like that can get sent to Hell, then what hope is there for me?

So he learns just how thin the line is between being an angel and a demon, just how close he's cutting it, just how little it takes for him to fall as well.

In his eyes, Crowley's brilliant. He's resourceful, intelligent, capable, everything he wants to be. Everything he's told he should be. And it creates so much confusion in his mind. How can someone like that fall while I'm still here? And it doesn't help one single bit that he's falling in love with him.

Aziraphale isn't stupid. Despite what everyone says, he's very in tune with his emotions. So much so that Crowley fails to keep up with his logic and decision-making. He realises that he's falling in love with Crowley, and that causes panick in him. He's an angel. He's not supposed to fall for temptation.

So he has two options: try to prove to himself Crowley's good and therefore justify his own feelings, or to prove Crowley's evil, and that's why he fell. So... in a way, he does both.

Every time Crowley tries to convince him of his malice, Aziraphale proves him wrong, sees right through him. All the while constantly putting a wedge between them, of good and evil. "But, you, are fallen." "I'm good, you, are evil." Even though he knows deep down that's not the truth, which is precisely why he's saying it, he knows Crowley is good, just as he knows he himself isn't fully. And no one must ever find that out.

Not only is he keeping Crowley at a distance for his own safety, but also for Crowleys. Sacrificing both their happiness for each others safety. He knows precisely what Hell will do to him if they ever find out how kind he really is.

And it would be very very simple if he just stopped hanging out with Crowley, except... he can't. No matter how hard he tries he's always pulled back to him. And over time he's testing his limits, what can I do? Am I allowed to do this? Food? That's forbidden? The Arangement? etc.

And you can't really blame him for fearing Falling. Not just burning in boiling sulfur as each of his cells is being transformed in the most agonising way, but also having to spend eternity there as well as the humiliation and resentment he'll get from Heaven. "My lot don't send rude notes." he knows how horrible and terrifying it is down there, and he is all too aware how he won't be able to cope. Too weak, too mellow, too soft.

Crowleys kindness is constantly putting him on edge because he just can't understand why he's a demon. While angels like Gabriel and Michael, who always put him down, are apathetic towards humanity, are narcissistic and emotionless... are still up there. 6000 years he's spent wondering when his time will come. When he'll be pulled down to Hell.

He's so goddamn kind that it took him 6000 years to realise Heaven is not all that it should be. Kinder than Heaven could ever hope to be (and after the "stay back" from ep6 we can see how thay he is capable of being harsh and ruthless, which means he actively chooses to be kind, which makes him all the more extraordinary and astonishing for it). And I'm not even going to go into the strength it takes to manage to break out of the brainwashing that Heaven has done to him. Thousands of years of being humiliated, feeling worthless, not good enough, not angelic enough, not even appreciated. And despite all that feedback and ridicule, he's never given in, never relented, never let anyone modify or change him, has never lost his kindness, his softness, his generosity even after all that he's seen and been through. And that is so fucking incredible.

Validation and praise being at his fingertips, if only he could let go of his individuality, his uniqueness. Of himself. Thousands of years of it, and he has never surrendered to it. Never betrayed himself, kept his pride and his self-worth despite other people trying to rid him of it.

And he knows this. He's too clever not to. He knows just how thin the ice is he's standing on. Even at the beginning, which is not long after the Fall if I might point out, he's defying orders and keeping Adam and Eve safe, risking his own safety for the safety of others. And he still doesn't back down.

But he can't for the life of him keep away from Crowley. Because of how much love he has for him, how much affection. "He's risking his entire existence," and he'll do it again because that's who he is. (Not many people will put their lives on the line for the person that tried to annihilate them, completely destroy them in every plane of existence. Actually, no one ever will. Except him.)

He. Never. Backs. Down. Not from Armaggedon and not from the Second Coming.

It's not that he doesn't love Crowley enough, it's that he loves him too much. This is an angel so full of love that he's scattering himself, breaking himself, tearing himself apart, trying to give it to everyone. To Crowley, to humanity, to Earth. He's risking destruction for the things he loves. Both physically and emotionally. He would sacrifice his own happiness, his own future with Crowley just to save humanity. And he does it again and again and that is so fucking amazing, so fucking incredible that I don't believe such a selfless character exists in any other piece of media or television.

(Also, this is all mostly referring to his emotional strength, but let's not forget how he faced literal Satan and smote around 20 demons in just a matter of seconds.)

Edit: Just wanted to add what one of you pointed out in the comments.

Aziraphale realises that running away with Crowley isn't really a relaxing and peaceful life as Crowley thinks it is. Far away from humanity and it's pleasures that they both love and engage with, something that brought them close in the first place due to their shared love for it, and constantly on the run from Heaven and Hell. Aziraphale is doing this for Crowley, so that he can be happy, so that both of them can be together. Not only that but he offered Crowley his angel status back, since he thought that would make him happy again, since he hoped that he could one day see that same smile that Crowley had when they first met, that smile that he hasn't been able to bring back all these years.

Aziraphale is now in Heaven, the last place he wants to be, the place he barely escaped with his life from, a place that hates him, filled with angels that despise him and want to see him suffer or worse, and he's utterly and completely alone.

He's trying to save the entire universe alone.

Think about that for a little bit.

Edit 2: I think it's worth noting that Aziraphale isn't perfect. And that's the point. He doesn't need to be perfect. He's naive and gullible and sees the world in black and white. He still needs to learn, to grow, to deal with these things. Soon enough, he'll realise that despite all the hope he has that he could fix Heaven, it just can't be mended, something Crowley has learned a long time ago and desperately tries to shoe him. He'll realise the system is corrupt, and no matter how hard he tries, it won't change because it wasn't designed that way. And it just makes him all the more brilliant. He isn't perfect. He has flaws, and he makes mistakes. He's an angel, but he's the most human of them all. And he's incredible all the more for it.

#to cut it short he's one of the most amazing characters ever written #good omens #goodomens #goodomenss2 #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #aziracrow #good omens season 2 #goodomens2 #goodomensseason2 #good omens s2

276 notes · View notes

asgardian--angels · 22 days ago

Text

I don't talk about this much but I'm just going to say it now.

there's something uniquely vile about being the daughter of a father who is a trump supporter. and not just a casual supporter, a full drank-the-kool-aid moon-landing-was-fake deep red neonazi maga crackpot. because I had to watch that change happen over the last decade. my father, an intelligent, introspective scientist, whose brain has essentially turned to mush and critical thinking skills shriveled up and died thanks to that orange rapist.

He has always loved me, supported me to be whatever I want to be, given me the most opportunities he could in life. He taught me to be kind, and forgiving, and to remember that we are all in this together. And now, while still claiming to feel that way, he vehemently, and viciously, spews hateful rhetoric and vitriol against women, against climate change, against democrats, against all the things I am, against the field of study I've dedicated my life, my soul to. We can no longer even have a regular conversation because all he does all day is sit online and watch trump rallies, listen to 'patriot' podcasts, and troll people on forums. He has nothing else to talk about, and cannot be negotiated with. Him and I used to love having sparring matches of wit, picking topics to debate in good faith. Now, any hint of a challenge and he becomes enraged, petty, and belittling. He somehow maintains this hypocritic fallacy in his mind that he is a good person, that he does everything to make my life better, and that humankind must come together to make a better future. Just, not *those* people, I guess, not them or them or them who aren't even people to him.

And I must occupy some gray area in his mind, Schrodinger's political prisoner. Because even though he knows I am a democrat, that I am a woman who will be affected by these laws, that I study climate change in the work that he supposedly supports, I must not be to him, one of 'those' people. I'm not like 'those' democrats, 'those' women, 'those' climate change cronies. Except when I am, because if we argue, if we discuss policy at all, I am just a girl, under his roof, and I have no idea what I'm talking about - because I'm young, because women aren't capable of understanding His greatness, because Elite Academia has brainwashed me into being a liberal. That my mom and I are ganging up on him, constantly, to paint him as the villain when he's only the victim. He's going to elect the man who will save us all, whether we want it or not. Our say doesn't matter, because we just don't understand.

I miss the father I knew. He was always petty, always ready to poke and prod - he hurt my feelings plenty, but I could deal with it. But I felt he was genuinely good at his core, that he tried his best. Now, I don't know him. I don't recognize him anymore. I've imagined so many times what I would say to him if I could give a speech, or write a letter, where he could not talk back and just had to listen. I don't know if I'll ever get that chance, or take it. But I know he has truly no idea how hurt and betrayed I am, and he wouldn't believe me if I told him. He knows no shame, and he does not apologize.

I'm not looking forward to spending the winter at home with him every day for two months. I don't see how I can look him in the eye. And how dare he look me in the eye after fucking me over.

I love my father, no matter what, and that's why it hurts me so badly to see him change into a stranger, and wonder if there was anything more I could have done to change his mind before this transformation completed. Knowing that it's not my responsibility to argue with him to try and make him see reason when he's too far gone and all it does is make me feel like shit, and yet.

I'm sorry to everyone who may relate to this within their own families. It's probably going to get worse. These men will feel empowered to speak their minds and force you to hear it. They try to provoke you, just so they can say you're hysterical or overreact as women do, when you get reasonably upset. Know that you're not alone in this, Trump has truly torn families apart in ways that I don't think will ever heal.

#.#..#...#....#.....#personal

34 notes · View notes

lunastrophe · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! Thank you so much for the answer(s) to my previous question(s); always so eloquent and enjoyable to read! I have a few more, about Minthara's time in the cult of the Absolute.

How long do you think she was in the cult?

What made Z'rell hate her so much?

When she says "The things that were done to me... they broke my mind", is she discussing the mind control alone, and if so, does that imply they brainwashed her repeatedly?

Could she access her memories in those times, or were they warped/otherwise hidden?

Hello again! 😊

🕷️Minthara's Time In The Cult - I am not sure if it is possible to tell exactly how long Minthara was in the cult, but I think that it might be several months (less than eight months, though).

Minthara left Moonrise shortly after being infected and for some time, she was fighting in Ketheric's army, participating in raids and battles. Then she was given command of the goblin camp - and she has already managed to settle in there when we meet her. Things like that take time.

Also - if I am not mistaken - Durge was betrayed around eight months before the Nautiloid crash (Orin's note suggests that). Minthara apparently never saw them in Moonrise, which may suggest that she was recruited after Durge vanished.

🕷️Minthara And Z'rell - honestly, I suppose that Z'rell did not really need a reason to hate Minthara. She seems to generally hate all her subordinates: she constantly bullies them, threatens them and shows her dominance whenever she can. Minthara - with her noble female drow / Baenre mindset - probably did not take it well!

Also, during her short time in Moonrise, Minthara was likely often seen with Orin. And then Ketheric personally chose her to serve in his army. I imagine that Z'rell might be envious, seeing a freshly recruited True Soul - and technically, her subordinate - already having such favour of two Chosen.

🕷️Each memory that returns to me is more disturbing than the last. The things that I did in the name of the Absolute... the things that were done to me. They broke my mind - I always thought that Minthara speaks here merely about her time in the cult: all the memories are returning to her and she starts to fully realize what the Absolutists did to her.

She may also refer to her most recent torture in Moonrise prison - when the torturers broke her mind and almost erased her personality.

I do not think that she was repeatedly brainwashed. After she was infected, the tadpole apparently did most of the work when it comes to indoctrination, erasing some things from Minthara's memory and giving her some false memories (about her first visit to Moonrise, first impression of the Absolute and so on).

🕷️True Souls do not seem to remember that they were tadpole'd and brainwashed. The Absolute's power is apparently so overwhelming that they remember only some basic facts about themselves, but the rest is warped by the tadpole's influence.

I am convinced that Minthara could not access the memories of her infection / indoctrination when she was under the Absolute's control. She did not even remember that she came to Moonrise with other drow and with a mission - the tadpole changed her memories and convinced her that when she arrived to Moonrise, she was immediately in awe of the Absolute and willingly joined the cult.

#drow #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 drow #minthara #minthara baenre

34 notes · View notes

i-cant-sing · 6 months ago

Note

I'm surprised by how open you are about your views on 'controversial' topics. As someone who works in a hospital and a certain group of university in the US, I had to sign a contract that prevents me from speaking out on these matters. How do you manage discussing such topics in your role?

I mean where I'm from, we have much bigger issues than just someone's opinions. Idk what controversial topics youre talking about, but i dont be just going about and giving my opinions to everyone and anyone. No, not everyone gets it and my time is far much more valuable than to talk sense to an ignorant person who will just make it look like im banging my head against the wall. Also because opinions are constantly changing because Im also in a growing age and im still learning new things everyday. if you were to see my views from 10 years back, youd be surprised. but then again, i was still a teen back then and i was easily influenced so back then i used to think being a feminist is being "anti man" or that being "feminine" is wrong and weak, which is not true obviously.

again idk what controversial topics youre talking about, but im gonna take a guess its about the gaza genocide being comitted by israel and look, there is only one fact, not opinion but FACT! and thats that Israel is murdering Palestinians actively, torturing them, doing ethnic cleanising and still trynna defend themselves for murdering babies in the worst way possible, and then some. there is no other side to this- there is no excuse for israel to do this, not now, not then and not ever. they are comitting crimes WAY WORSE THAN THEIR OWN HOLOCAUST, and its so enraging to see how nonchalant they are about it, how they have ZERO humanity, how they are actually worse than the NAZIS- imagine being worse than Nazis.

now back to your question- how do i manage giving my two cents on this? I'm Muslim, and even if I wasnt i think its the pretty obvious and sane thing to do, but Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) said: "Whoever sees something evil should change it with his hands. If he cannot, then with his tongue; and if he cannot do that, then in his heart- and that is the weakest of faith"

So if anyone of you can go volunteer in Gaza, or give humanatarian aid or donate, then he should do so. If you are not in a position to do that, then you should speak up, go to protests, post on your socials and raise awareness and keep up the boycott. If you are not even able to do that for whatever reason, then at least in your heart you should know that this is evil, go pray for palestinians, and keep on reminding yourself so that you dont get brainwashed into any western propaganda ever again about how Muslims are just deserving of this horrendous hate crime on such a level.

secondly, my reason for speaking up about this is because lets just forget for a moment that palestinians are majorly muslims and this is islamophobia. lets just consider them humans, okay? u could hate muslims adults all u want, but kids dont really have that much of a grasp on religion right? so, do you think that if Israel has and continues to comit a massacre on this level while the entire world watches, while everyone calls them out on their shit, while they have repeatedly documented their own disgusting tortures and crimes against these palestinians, have been called out by UN and the INTERNATIONA CRIMINAL COURT numerous times and they still continue on with this genocide, then what makes you think that you or i are safe?

If we let this continue on, if we dont speak up, then this is just giving a free pass to not only Israel but also anyone to go absolutely batshit crazy on any other country. The very fact that youre not in gaza and sitting in your home safe and cozy is by pure luck. But luck runs out eventually. And karma comes. What goes around, comes around. You stay quiet today over this matter, you dont try to help palestinians, then no one's gonna come for you too.

#gaza genocide #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #free palestine #free gaza #palestine #eyes on rafah #gaza strip #fundraising

56 notes · View notes

yanchive · 6 months ago

Text

TW: Suicide attempt/ideation, savior complex, brainwashing, typical yandere behavior, yan x yan? No names are given, neither party is stated to be the reader, so feel free to imagine either of them as whoever.

I love the idea of a yandere who becomes obsessed with someone who is clearly struggling the mental health issues. A yandere who's form of control is a bit different from the typical controlling types.

They're a caretaker of sorts. They've never had issues caring and supporting others. But they def have this fantasy of being seen as like... a savior. To have this one person bend over backward for them. Worship the ground they walk on.

Controlling!Yandere keeps tabs on their broken little soon-to-be partner, going from following them around town to having to watch them from the windows of their house when their mental health takes a steep decline.

Controlling!Yan ends up watching the moment the inevitable suicide attempt occurs. They're the one to immediately call paramedics. They stage themselves as a friend that got a very worrying call from this suicide victim to hide the fact that they were there, watching.

I'd see that the attempt went through enough that hospitalization had to happen, having hurt themselves enough to put them into a minor coma that lasted a few days.

Only one person visited that lonely hospital room.

It take some time for this poor soul to accept this strangers help, perhaps having felt anger towards them for saving them. And don't forget being exceptionally cautious of them. Afterall, how the fuck did they know what they were doing? No one was around when they attempted...

Controlling!yan is excellent talent in the act of manipulation. They'd no what to say, and what to do to get this poor little thing wrapped around their finger. They've practiced for this exact moment for ages.

Controlling!Yan will play the part of the supporting friend. The one constantly checking up on them, providing assistance when needed, giving this unwell individual the support they need. It wouldn't take long for them to begin relying on this mysterious person.

And with a little more sweet words and actions, Controlling!Yan can have their new friend looking up at them as some sort of guardian angel, maybe even a God. Their savior.

Mutual obsession, just as Controlling!Yan wanted.

#yandere prompt #yandere #yandere savior #gn yandere #gn reader #yandere headcanon #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere x yandere #manipulative yandere

63 notes · View notes

moreausposts · 7 months ago

Text

EXORCIST/FALLENWINGS LORE I PULLED OUT OF MY ASS

this is all my personal headcanons and just shit i made up, but viv if you wanna hire me i’m not complaining

first: i see the debate constantly on whether or not exorcists are heavenborn or human souls, and personally i think them being heavenborn is just objectively cooler. it puts a good contrast between the exorcists and the sinners, y’know, since if they were never on earth they never would have met any sinners to gain sympathy for and would be easier to brainwash. that being said, no i don’t think they were ever technically “born” as babies, but i don’t think they spawned as full grown adults either.

because all of the angels’ designs are based on birds, i like the idea of them hatching from eggs. it’s just so silly to me to imagine, i love it sm. so in my head they all hatched from a nest of eggs adam had sera poof into existence once they settled on the agreement that he was permitted to raise an army for the betterment of heaven (he was their mama bird <3) as probably around 3-4 biologically? going off of human years. because while kids would be easier for adam to train, thirty something screaming babies wouldn’t be of much use to him.

all of their names are stupid as fuck, vaggie just got the shortest end of the stick. lute’s full name is literally just lieutenant. half of them are just body parts (wings, legs… vaggie), some get random words that just barely suit them (tall one is tree, short one is pipsqueak), and some of his favorites get instruments (guitar, drumstick, trumpet, and lieutenant gets shortened to lute when she’s not annoying him)

adam chose his favorites before they even hatched btw. he picked all of the coolest eggs and put them into a little pile. (vaggie’s was slightly cracked and a weird shade of pink-ish purple compared to all of the other black and white eggs so he decided she would be vagina right then and there)

also just because of how bratty lute is in canon, she doesn’t give “spent years working to earn her position” to me (don’t get me wrong i love her that’s my bbg) and because her name is literally just lieutenant, i like to think that her egg was the one adam felt the most protective of which is why she was deemed lieutenant before she had even hatched. i also just don’t think he’d want to go through the headache of raising all of the girls equally for them to fight over the position of being his right hand when he could just have one pre-guaranteed and train her separately.

unfortunately, this backfired tremendously! because once the girls started growing up it was pretty clear that lute was the weakest and smallest of them all. yeah, i said it. she was a wimp. it took her like three years just to learn how to fly.

relating to the art above ^ this is how i think lute and vaggie became close!! because while she was pretty strong (honestly probably one of the highest ranking) she also didn’t have many friends. i love the fact that once she’s in hell she starts dressing more feminine and grows her hair out to break away from who she used to be, but while vaggie was younger, especially as a tween-teen she was super super tomboyish. she was seen as kind of aggressive, the troublemaker of the group. but one thing she never did was pick on lute for being weak. i see here protecting her a lot when they were kids.

because it really wasn’t fair to the other girls that adam favored lute so much from day one that her position was guaranteed, and that while they continued to grow and train they still had to take orders from someone so much weaker than them. there was a lot of animosity in their earlier years, especially before the exterminations really started (they were like 14 when the first one happened) and lute got pushed around a lot.

because adam and vaggie were the only two that were nice to her, she developed a super unhealthy attachment style to both of them. while vaggie genuinely cared about lute and wanted to protect her (this isn't me saying adam didn't care about her btw because she was probably the only person he ever actually loved), lute was definitely a moral dilemma for adam. because on one hand, here was this kid that looked up to him so much and he really did feel bad for her, but man was she fucking incompetent at times. still, he didn't boot her from her position as lieutenant, but he didn't do anything to help that unhealthy attachment either. he instead just used it to brainwash her even worse because it's adam and he doesn't know how to express love whatsoever. 😭 he was like a narcissistic parent, basically. if she did everything perfectly just the way he wanted it, she'd be praised and reminded why she was the favorite, but if she made one mistake... it was like a whole other person. and it was overwhelming, but lute did EVERYTHING she could to be what he wanted her to be because she craved validation so badly after being bullied so much. which is exactly why adam kept it up.

I picture her really starting to get it together at around, eh, 15-16?? something like that. old enough that she was beyond sick of being kicked around and desperate to do something about it. it was like an overnight switch. she stopped sleeping and started training on her own time, pushing herself to her limits, putting on a mask. and all of a sudden she was a mini adam without the humor and guitar solos. she was cold, she was viscous, and she was tired of letting other people take advantage of her when she was the one who was supposed to be in charge.

this definitely put a rift between her and vaggie, because the suddenly heartless leader was absolutely not the little kid vaggie took hit after hit to protect. lute didn't understand why vaggie hated the new her when she was so obviously better than she was before, right? but vaggie just wanted her friend back.

that being said, I told y'all these would be fallenwings hcs too. I don't see them being anything more than a situationship, at least pre-canon, but man was it rough. this was THE toxic homoerotic best friend situationship every repressed lesbian teen goes through, except with murder and betrayal!

like were they dating? not officially. but did they make out covered in blood and bruises after fist fighting in the middle of trying to have a conversation about what they were to each other? well well well... 😘

I feel like vaggie really wanted something more with lute, but lute was so in her own head with her own internalized homophobia and newfound fear of being seen as weak as she used to be that the second things started getting too far she got scared and ran. and what was the only way to get vaggie to stop trying to make her feel feelings™ again than to just... make her hate her altogether. it's easier that way, right? vaggie sparing the sinner was just the perfect excuse to justify herself.

though, who am I kidding? lute spent the next three years crying herself to sleep using her ex situationship's shirt as a pillowcase because her dumbass tried to kill her... and as soon as vaggie crashed back into her life alive and with a girlfriend... well, if at first you don't succeed!

thank you for reading this long ass ramble 😭 here's a baby lute as a bonus:

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lute #fallenwings #fallenwings fanart #lute fanart #hazbin hotel fanart #fanart #hellaverse #hellaverse fanart #vivziepop #exorcist angel #hazbin hotel angels #hazbin hotel vaggie #hazbin hotel adam

52 notes · View notes