#( cue the mic drop )

[essentiamortis]

"i, ELIZABETH WINCHESTER, hereby renounce the gods of olympus for they have only ignored my existence. my service will be to KRONOS and my loyalty to your cause, luke castellan."

@drepanon - kronos | @essentiamortis - elizabeth winchester klymenos

[pine-tree-system]

Tbh if you had imaginary friends during childhood to cope with intense loneliness and they later developed into alters, that should still count as DID and fit the traumagenic model.

Loneliness for a child is still traumatic. Humans are meant to be social and to rely on each other, especially vulnerable children who cannot survive on their own. Even if physical needs were met, it still constitutes emotional neglect if a child has to create imaginary friends instead of being able to befriend other peers.

Hell, one could even argue that this loneliness could be the result of another traumatic stressor that has created a figurative wedge between them and their peers, but it still doesn't neglect the fact that human isolation is traumatic. Just because imaginary friends have been created to cope with it doesn't uphold the Fantasy Model.

[colorisbyshe]

"#concert behaviour has gotten so bad since venues opened up after lockdown" slightly related, but the one rule now that pisses me off beyond anything is when people tell others not to sing loudly at concerts because 'you're there to listen to the artist sing' and 'you're ruining other peoples' experiences' it's so fucking snobby. like um. sorry, but no? i'm going to sing the songs i came here to see performed because i love them? the thing concerts were pretty much made for??

if these kids (and yeah, I'm calling them kids, because it's mostly FROM kids) knew what concerts were like when I was the same age as them they would explode on the spot and get kicked out of the venue for being stupid. they don't want anyone to do ANYTHING "disruptive" (see: singing, dancing, moshing if it's a hardcore show, etc) at these shows so they can get instagram and tiktok clips for clout.

and i KNOW i sound like a massive boomer because of it but i really don't care. if you can't handle other people singing in your videos because they're 'too loud' and take away from the aesthetic of a live concert video that's a you problem. maybe don't go to concerts, then <3

(not you, obviously, but it made me think of the things i've seen on TT from teens/early 20's people and I apologize for the rant)

See... you're not gonna get the most sympathetic ear from me on this one because the singing thing is REEEEAAALLY context specific.

I don't think you should be sing-screaming the entire concert--typically, there are moments where it's expected and moments where it's really, really not and you do need ot just chill and listen. And the big issue about "singers' during concert is people doing their own vocal runs and operatic shenanigans OVER the actual singer. Like... I LOVE singing along (though I mostly lip-sing at concerts because I uh...... struggle to retain lyrics) but I've been thoroughly pissed off by people singing like they just left the high school theater club while at a fucking rock show. Like... you are not Rachel Berry auditioning for NYADA... chill the fuck out.

Like... it's very much "Yeah, match the vibe of the audience" thing. Your singing along should NOT stand out. It shouldn't.

If you become the Main Character of a concert for the audience, the people around you, the actual performers, you have committed a party foul. Go the fuck home.

There needs to be a balance between just standing there with your phone, not showing any enthusiasm at all (ALSO an issue I've had with recent concerts) and like... making the entire concert about YOU at the expense of the peopel around you.

Like, I love a good mosh pit. If you alone are flailing in the crowd and shoving into people when no one else is responding in kind, you are an asshole.

Match the vibe.

You should not be more memorable than the performer. Period.

I'm not necessarily a concert expert (I've been to about ~50 shows, ranging from being in the pit at bar shows to seeing pop acts at metlife to kpop to indie rock to shows for middle aged people throwing around beach balls) but like... I know that much.

There is no har dand fast rule but... read the fucking room. And sometimes, "the room" can just be the people in your immediate vicinity. Of course, sometimes people ARE too strict and just want the perfect video, so fuck 'em, but sometimes... you aaaare the problem.

I've seen people get kicked out and I've never thought they didn't deserve it. Shout out to the drunk person who was like... trying to head butt people at an Against Me show that was crazy.

[lightseoul]

a/n. the idea just came to me. that's it, basically. i hope i was able to capture the emotions that go hand in hand with this scenario. (0.7k)

“once again, another round of applause for mr. and mrs. midoriya!”

you cheer as loud as you can as you watch izuku effortlessly lift ochaco from the dip that signaled the end of their first dance as a married couple. even from where you’re seated a few feet away, the scarlet sitting high on both their cheeks is unmistakable, although not as palpable as the love that’s radiating off of their frames. you watch as the hero-turned-teacher whispers something to his other half, to which she responds with a delighted laugh.

“aren’t the two of them just adorable?” present mic, who also just happens to be the host for the evening croons, and everybody hollers in agreement. you make sure your bellows are one of the loudest, although you falter when you feel a pair of eyes boring at the side of your face.

“midoriya looks like he’s about to faint,” sero jokes from across the round table, which grants him a few snickers from the group.

“uraraka’s not any better,” comments kirishima who looks towards the couple with a slightly concerned expression.

“oh, you guys are exaggerating,” you retort, glancing back to appraise the two, only to find that they are now as red as ripe ass tomatoes. your face falls when you do, and everybody at your assigned table bursts into laughter at the sight. even bakugou, who’s sitting at your right, lets out a small chuckle.

“keep laughing, kacchan—” goads kaminari, who is instantly rewarded with a glare from the ash-blonde. that doesn’t deter him from continuing, though, opting to toss the latter a knowing grin instead. “i bet my money you’d flush like crazy when it’s you and y/n’s turn to get married.”

at that, you let out a small laugh before the man beside you can say anything, although it comes out a bit stilted. again, you sense bakugou’s gaze on you, but you don’t meet it. you muster a playful pout. “can we focus on the ones who are actually getting married right now, please?”

“actually, they already have,” corrects iida as a matter of factly, “but i agree. i think present mic’s about to—”

“calling on the best man and maid of honor!” echoes the elderly hero’s summon as if on cue.

the spotlight immediately shines on you and bakugou.

“let’s have another lovely couple join in these poor two,” present mic implores, “they’re seeming a bit too awkward, standing in front by themselves.”

another wave of laughter resounds across the large room as you gingerly stand up with a polite smile on your face, with bakugou following suit and doing the same. you startle ever so minutely when you feel his hand slip across the distance between you two and intertwine with yours, but you don’t resist when he uses his grip to lead you to the center of the dance floor.

you catch a glimpse of ochaco as you walk toward the front, your heart dropping at the sight of what should be an elated face contorted in an almost imperceptible look of guilt and worry. you flash her the most reassuring smile you can conjure, knowing all too well that the same exchange is happening between izuku and the man who is now moving to place one hand on your waist as the other maintains his hold on yours.

“ready?” bakugou asks when you’re finally close and facing each other, his low, rough voice shooting a pang of distant longing straight to you despite yourself.

at that, you force a smile at him, willing every fiber of your being to ignore the way he’s looking at you.

the way he’s looking at you like he’s second-guessing ending things just as much as you are.

which is silly, because god knows you’ve talked about it a thousand times, and the conclusion remains the same.

but before you can waver and expose yourselves in front of everyone else in the room—you’d go through hell and high water to make sure ochaco and izuku’s day is perfect, after all—you swallow all the what-ifs that are still fighting to be uttered and nod.

“ready.”

˖⁺‧₊ as always, reblogs, replies, and tags are appreciated <3 feel free to drop an ask, too—i'd love to chat with you. have a nice day!

tagging. @bunnysaursushii @yawnzzzzzzzz @cholios @kashee-h @iluv-ace @lotuslovers @elarakive @sugurusmoon @napbatata @k0z3me @h0ngh0ngh0ng @honeyoru @yoongiwithglasses @hellokitty-doll @lilsebnem @tetsuukuroo @crangrapel0ver @syrhra

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Lying

One day, Billy realizes he can just lie. To press, to the JL (only when they really ask about his identity), and to world. And the best part is that almost no one can prove him wrong, because what’s Black Adam or someone else going to do? Prove him wrong? (I kinda already talked about this but meh) Like here’s something I can see Billy maybe doing because one time and one time alone, a reporter asked and he quotes:

Reporter: “Captain, I’m sure many people are speculating, and I’m sure it’s a question asked often, but who is your Missus Marvel?” *holds mic to Billy’s face*

Marvel: “…Huh?” *Has confused expression* “Can you repeat that?”

Reporter: “Who is your Missus Marvel?”

Marvel: “Uh… Ma’am, there is no—” *Does air quotes* “—Missus Marvel.”

Reporter: “Then who is the mother of Captain Marvel Junior and Mary Marvel?”

Marvel: “Uuuuh… Me? Technically? They’re both made from parts of me, but not parts *gestures to his lower region* of me, no.” *He shook his head.* “If I remember correctly Mary was made about 10000 years ago when one of my arms were chopped off. (He’s lying through his teeth right now. The only reason he hasn’t been caught is because of Achilles allowing him to bullshit his was through without blinking.)

Reporter: “I- I see.” *stunned*

Marvel: “And then Junior’s a…” *snorts* “…leg.” *Muffles a laugh into his hand not realizing no one will get his joke besides Freddy and Mary*

Reporter: *confused by Billy laughing but doesn’t say anything* “Interesting… Are Mary Marvel and Marvel Junior your only children? Spawn? Wards?”

Marvel: “Oh, yeah. I could more though. Like, watch this.” *Literally breaks off his ring finger, splintering the bone and everything without a single flinch. Then drops the finger on the ground and it morphs into what looks like a four year old Marvel. Billy picks him up and holds him like a parent would their toddler.* “It’s super easy.” *He’s even doing the slight bouncing that parents do when they hold their kids.* “But I don’t know… now that I’m holding this one, I’m starting to get attached. We might keep him.” *looks down at the mini Marvel, who in turn looks back at him.*

Reporter: *still horrified she watched a man, if he even is one, snap one of his fingers off like nothing. Said man’s finger nub is also still exposed to the world in all its disgusting glory. Safe to say she’s looking a little green* “O- Oh really?”

Marvel: *moves Mini Marvel around in his grip, and then suddenly throws the toddler like a paper airplane. Thankfully, instead of falling on the ground and splattering like meat pie, Mini Marvel takes to the skies is flying over the nearby crowd and such. Marvel turns back to the reporter.* “Yeah, but before that happens, he’ll have to develop a consciousness and personality. It took a bit for Mary and Junior to develop their own. Now they have their own likes, dislikes, and feelings. Who knows how long it’ll take the little guy.” (Again, he’s bullshitting this completely. He’s mishmashing Solomon’s wisdom on golems with things he makes up on the fly)

Reporter: “That’s… amazing.” *looks greener now. Looks to cameraman and motions for him to cut the feed. As soon as he does, her hand moves to her mouth.* “Oh my god, I’m going to be sick.” *runs over to nearest trashcan*

Marvel: “I guess that’s my cue to leave.” *starts to float off the ground* “Thanks for having me, miss!” *Marvel then whistles and Mini Marvel immediately stops entertaining the crowd and flies over to Billy and they fly off into the sunset.*

Elsewhere… Mary’s working an odd job for some money when she sees a tv on the news channel. She nearly has a heart attack because for three brief seconds she thought her dad was holding a young Billy in his arms like he used to. Then she blinked a couple times and realized it was just Billy as Marvel with four year old dressed like him. Fawcett kids really love Captain Marvel, huh?

(Oh yeah, and as for how he made Mini Marvel, he’s my hypothesis. When he broke off his finger, he destabilized its form and it reverted back to a part of living lightning for a brief couple of moments. Then, in an effort to not return back to the rock, as it could sense part of itself still nearby, it stabilized itself once more and forced itself to take the form of a miniature Marvel) (and if anyone makes sense of that, I’ll be darned)

[no-144444]

Judgy McJudgy Pants or Osc? You decide!- o.piastri

Day 9 of fic-tober! fic-tober masterlist

summary: you and oscar are getting closer, or are you?

part one | part two | part three | part four

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

You stepped out onto the asphalt with a smile. Another weekend, another race, another day in your perfect job. Well, maybe not perfect. Oscar Piastri, aka Judgy Mcjudgy Pants was somehow still in the paddock and somehow still getting on your nerves. Anyways, Thursday meant media day, which meant you got onto the track early, usually with some of the F2 or F1 Academy drivers for an early morning cycle. By early, it really meant early. 5am start, and since it was Austin, spectators were already filtering in. Running beside you today was none other than Judgy Mcjudgy Pants himself, Oscar Piastri.

“So JMcJP,” you started as your cycle began. “How are you feeling about this weekend?”

He chuckled at the nickname, then answered with a simple ‘good’. You rolled your eyes. You had never been able to get good answers from him, no matter what. He’d always be too busy giggling like a schoolboy to answer your questions, so you saved the shitty ones for him.

“Descriptive,” you deadpanned. “Now, since we at SkySportF1 are so nice, we decided to bring someone special in to interview you!”

“Not just because you don’t want to do it?” he smirked.

“Everyone welcome Logan Sargeant!” you ignored his snarky comment and turned to Logan, who appeared beside you as you cycled. You handed him over the mic and cue cards and just focused on your ride, off-camera. The track was a little over 5 kilometres, so it wouldn't be a long interview.

“So Oscar,” Logan cleared his throat. “Anyone special in your life at the moment? Other than your debilitating crush on our lovely F1 presenter Y/n Y/l/n?”

Oscar’s face dropped and he stopped cycling. “This isn’t live right?”

“It’s not, don’t worry,” Jordan, your camera operator, explained with an apologetic smile on her face.

“Thank God,” he cheered, relieved. “Logan you asshole!” Oscar pushed into him, with a smile, but pushing all the same.

“What? You need to confess eventually?!” Logan scodlded, somehow staying on his bike.

“Not right now though, I was making good progress!”

“What, you could get through 3 whole words without giggling, or are you up to 4?” Logan mocked.

“I am a grown man-”

“Maybe I’d believe you if you just had the balls to ask her out.”

“You two are so slow, hurry up!” you called from about two hundred metres in front of them. “Alright, next question!” Logan moved on, cycling onwards again. “Who’s your best friend on the track?”

“Well I would say you but you’ve left us for Indycar, so… probably Lando, Alex, or Zhou,” he nodded.

“And why is that?”

“Lando and I are teammates, Alex and you were teammates so I saw you two together a lot, and Zhou and I were in F2 together,” he shrugged.

Logan’s eyes widened at the next question. “Who’s your favourite SkyF1 presenter?”

Oscar sighed, but told the truth anyway. “Y/n, probably.”

“I hope you’re not talking bad about me!” you shouted back at them, even further ahead now.

“Only good things!” Logan shouted back with a smile as Oscar fell deeper into his embarrassment. “Alright Oscar, who would you choose as your date to the prize-giving gala at the end of the year?”

Oscar sighed again, knowing what he was subjecting himself to. “Probably Y/n.”

Logan laughed as Oscar sighed, and an awful idea popped into his head. He turned to the camera with a big smile, and said. “If Oscar wins today we should make Y/n go as your date for the gala.”

Oscar’s face filled with dread but he knew how much Sky liked to torture their hosts, so he knew they’d love the idea. You? Not so much. In a selfish way, he was pretty happy that Logan had said it, because it gave him a chance with you. A whole night with you to himself? Sounded perfect to him. All he had to do was win the race.

“Y/n! We have an idea!” Logan shouted to you. “If Oscar wins today you have to go as his date to the prize-giving ceremony at the end of the year!”

You groaned as you reached the starting/ finish line again. “Do I have to?” you looked to Ted Kravtiz, technically he was your boss. He smirked and nodded, and you started hoping that Oscar wouldn’t win today. “Sounds like a deal,” you said, unenthused.

Logan cheered as Oscar’s sense of dread deepened, and he started to feel bad that they were forcing you to spend time with him. This couldn’t just be about the shoes, right? You had to hate him for another reason. It’s just… you never dropped the facade, in front of him anyway. You were always mildly irritated with him (except when he won his first race), and if you weren’t mildly irritated, you were completely. The cameras cut, Logan started chatting with you as Oscar stood there, catastrophizing even more.

You watched as Oscar essentially left the room, though he was standing right there. You’d never seen him get like that, he was always so calm and so collected, and it was almost worrying to see him be anything else. After a few minutes he left without a word to either of you, and you started fearing the worst. Maybe you’d brought this JMcJP thing too far, maybe he hated you, maybe you should go talk to him.

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ After a few interviews, you found yourself walking around the McLaren motorhome trying to find Oscar. Eventually, you found his driver’s room and knocked on the door hesitantly. “Oscar?”

It swung open and you were met with a very confused looking Oscar who pulled you into his room and shut the door behind you two. He put the back of his hand against your forehead, seemingly… checking for a temperature?

“Are you feeling alright?” he asked. “You never call me Oscar.”

You rolled your eyes at his awful excuse for a joke, and sighed. “Y’know I did come in here to apologise, but I don’t think I’m going to do that now-”

You turned for the door but he grabbed your hand and pulled you back. He raised an eyebrow. “What would you be apologising for?”

“Logan this morning, you don’t have to use me as your date for the prize-giving ceremony, use your girlfriend-”

“Don’t have one,” he answered quickly. “And I need to win, right?”

“Right,” you smiled. “But seriously, don’t ever feel pressured to like… do what Ted says. Or be around me, I know we don’t always get along, but it is all in good fun, right?”

He nodded, all too happy that he could finally get through a conversation without giggling. “Right.”

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you smiled, going for the door handle but once again, he pulled you back.

“You don’t just dislike me because of the shoes, right?” he asked.

You chuckled. “What would you say if I don’t dislike you, but I am still hurt over the shoes?”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh good,” he chuckled. “And how can I pay my penance for that?”

You thought about it for a moment, then smirked. “Winning today would be pretty helpful, I wouldn't have to think about a date then.” He smirked and nodded, finally letting go of you and letting you leave the room.

He had to win today. ୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

“And it’s Oscar Piastri who crosses the finish line first, making this his third career win!”

Fuck off. He won. And you weren’t even mad.

Ted looked at you with a smirk. “Not needing a date for the ceremony then?”

“Shut up,” you scolded, playfully hitting him. ୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ⋅୨ৎ

navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

fic-tober masterlist

part one | part two | part three | part four

taglist: @anotherapollokid @theseerbetweenus @simbaaas-stuff @5sospenguinqueen @yootvi

[cottoncandyswisherz]

working at the pyramid

this is long a fuck for no reason so its small font lol

softdom!chris x stripper!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (double wrap w aluminum foil) p in v, oral, (male receiving) pole dancing

-

the club is dark. all lights are off and the only thing you can hear is jay, our dj, yelling into the mic. 

"okay fellas, its saturday, you know what that means. its time for our favorite girl to do her thangs. make some noise for our money maker, our heart breaker, MISS CLEOOOO!" 

and the crowd goes wild.

the music starts and i strut onto the stage, in character. 

the projector displays a burning sun behind me, the lights shines a dark orange. this is my time to shine. all these men are here watching me with hungry eyes and i'm about to feed them. 

laying with my back on the ground i wait for my cue. 

wake up to your girl for now lets call her cleopatra i watch you fix your hair then put your panties on in the mirror, cleopatra

i arch my back and pull at my hair. then your lipstick, cleopatra then your six-inch heels, catch her she's headed to the pyramid

i roll over onto my stomach and stretch my arms in front of me, kicking my feet slowly, making eye contact with some shmuck in to crowd before turning back on my back.

she's working at the pyramid tonight

the beat drops and it begins. 

grabbing the back of my heels i raise my hips in a kegel position and grind my hips slowly in the air.

then i raise my butt all the way in the air, holding myself up and bring my knees together and twirl them before straightening one and pointing my toes over my head. keeping my legs in that position i slowly bring them down

pimpin in my convos bubbles in my champagne let it be some jazz playin top floor hotel suite twisting my cigars floor model tv with the vcr

back on my stomach i slowly bring myself on all fours and dramatically throw my head back, allowing my hair to fall down my arched back. 

got rubies in my damn chain whip aint got no gas tank but it still got woodgrain

i get on my feet and bounce before standing all the way up

got your girl working for me hit the strip and my bills paid that keep my bills paid hit the strip and my bills paid keep a nigga bills paid

prancing to the pole, i lock eyes with a white boy. like everyone else, he's got a shit eating grin on his face. but unlike everyone else, he doesn't throw 1's on the stage. he throws a flurry of 20's. 

i grab the pole and saunter around it twice, then press my back against it and grind again. 

time to climb this bitch. 

she's working and the pyramid tonight

i turn around and step around the pole before swinging and wrapping my legs around it tilt my head back and now i'm spinning, as the pole rotates. i do my tricks and shit, giving them the show they want.

keeping my grip, the pole stops and throw my head all the way back, allowing myself to be upside down. only for a second though because i place my hands on the floor and flip into a split as the beat drops again. 

the men go insane, and i'm showered in bills. 

you showed up after work, i'm bathin your body touch you in places only i know you're wet and you're warm just like our bathwater can we make love before you go

i grind to the beat in various positions, before bringing myself back to pole, placing it between my heel and shoe so i can limp all the way to the top. 

once i'm there i hook one leg around the pole and drop my head. upside down once again. i spread my arms out and spin. 

shouting and money flying once again. 

the way you say my name makes me feel like i'm that nigga but i'm still unemployed you say it's big but you take it ride cowgirl

after a few seconds, i bring my body back up right and slide down. with my legs under me, i move my hips, so it looks like i'm riding

but your love ain't free no more baby but your love ain't free no more

then i fall back so i'm laying on my back, like before i started. 

she's working at the pyramid she's working at the pyramid tonight

and the lights shut off. 

just like that, i move off the stage and go to my dresser and drink some water. 

5 minutes go by and i've caught my breath. thomas, another employee comes in with my earnings from tonight. but i don't have time to count it, so i put the bag in my locker and go out to work the floor. 

a few of my regulars make their usual requests and soon i'm $150 richer. i walk over to the bar and ask for a lemonade and while i'm waiting a hand taps my shoulder. 

"i'm on break. " i mutter in an agitated tone, not bothering to turn around. 

"i'll pay double." 

and just like that, I GOT MOTION!

i turn around and see the white boy from earlier. 

with a seductive grin, i shake my head. "go find a seat on the floor and i'll come find you after my drink."

"the floor?" white boy turns around and looks at the room, full of idiots. "no, i want a private room." 

"those are 150 an hour..."

"where do i pay?"

is he for real...

"usually people who want them have a group."

"just me."

wow.

"you pay up front." he pulled his phone out.

"you guys take apple pay?"

i was flabbergasted. "uh... yeah i think so."

"great. you finish your drink and i'll come get you when everything is paid for."

-

20 minutes later i'm stepping into a private room. 

"you can play whatever music you want. i can dance to pretty much anything."

this is so fucking awkward by myself. usually there like 5 of us in here with an equal amount of guys. 

but he won't see me sweat. 

"anything?"

"yup."

he pulls his phone out, connecting to the bluetooth. 

"okay you better be telling the truth." he begins searching for a song. 

he plays the fucking macarena. 

"be so fucking for real." i fight back a smile. "i'm half naked and you want me to do the macarena?"

"hey you said you can dance to anything." he chuckles, putting his hands up. he has a small duffel bag next to him. i can just smell the money in it. 

fuck it. i think then begin the dance. 

money falls at my feet as i do the routine and laugh. 

soon the song is over and a new one starts. 

this one slower.

i start with a little floor routine that ends with me on my knees, so i can crawl over to him.

placing  my hands on his thighs, i lift myself up and turn around so my ass is right in his face and i dance, dropping and coming back up. 

i felt his hands grip my waist, and usually, clients aren't allowed to touch us, but this ones fine as a motherfucker so i'll allow it. 

he pulls me down so i'm sitting in his lap, my back to his chest. i move my hips on him and he turns my head to the side so i'm kinda looking at him. then his hand grabs my neck and his other one drops 20's. 

the bills fall down my body and land in my lap and it's the hottest thing i've ever encountered. 

with a smile, i turn around so i'm straddling him and grind some more. i feel his erection on my clit through his shorts and it makes my pussy flood. 

if i keep looking in his eyes i'm gonna cum. so i look at the wall to distract myself. but that doesn't work because he grips my jaw and forces me to look at him. 

"eyes on me mama."

fuck. 

now we're locked in. eyes trapped in each other. i can't escape. 

but i have to. 

so place his hands on my hips and lean back, so my back is arched. 

i thought this would help. 

it didn't. 

one of his hands spreads on my belly and reaches up my front, his large hand on my chest. 

i come back up and decide no physical contact was the solution. 

so i get up and begin another floor routine.

he stands up and walks over to me, looking in my eyes a-fucking-gain so i turn around and dance until his hand is on my hips again with his other one the back of my neck, bending me over. 

and now we're lowkey dry humping. 

shit. 

standing up right again, i turn around and take a step back. 

i can't fuck him. i'll lose my job. i'll lose my dignity. 

"we can't-"

the motion is swift when he tugs me towards him and my body collides with his. my hands automatically come up and land against his chest, and my eyes fall shut. 

my fingers spread out, trying to feel as much of him as i can. 

his lips brush against my ear. "tell me to stop, cleo. tell me to stop, and i will."

i pull my head back enough to look at him and think. 

i have two options. 

1. walk out and do my job like nothing happened with the worst case of blue ovaries i've ever had. 

or 

2. fuck this man and walk out and do my job like nothing happened having had what i hope will be the best orgasm i've ever had.

i don't know about you but option two seems like the obvious choice. 

"i don't want you to stop." 

his fingers grip me tighter.

"you want me to fuck you?" 

my breath hitches and i slowly nod my head. 

"my name's chris. say 'yes, chris.'"

my thighs clench as i feel my pussy flood again. "yes, chris."

a sound leaves his mouth, then its pressing against mine.

i melt into the kiss. his full lips slanting over mine, demanding them to open. 

i try to focus. i try to remember who i am and that i'm a badass who refuses to submit to a stranger. i try to focus, but there's a lightening storm going off inside my body and i can't hold onto a single bolt. 

my arms wrap around the back of his neck, anchoring him to me. 

chris' large hands move up my side, the heat of them seeping through my skin and putting my body on fire. keeping the tips of his fingers against my ribs, he spreads his grip out until his thumbs trace along the underside of my tits. 

i lean into the touch. the press of his body against mine is divine torture. but then he's gone. 

his hands leave my sides at the same time his mouth leave mine. 

my eyes blink open, but instead of finding his gaze on mine, i find his hooded eyes focused on my chest. 

with slow movements, chris reaches behind me and unclips the bra i'm wearing. it falls at my feet. 

chris tongue slides across his lower lips as he eyes my pierced nipples. he uses his thumbs to rub over each one, the buds tightening and i can no longer stay quiet. 

letting out a whimper of appreciation, i raise my arms and grip his white tee. 

"fuck." he groans the words as he palms my breasts, leaving my nipples exposed between his thumb and index finger. "fuck." he says again, dipping down and taking one small barbell into his mouth. 

"oh god.." i groan, my fingers leave his sides and dig into his hair.

this isn't the first time someone has played with the piercings but with him, its so much better.

he tugs and pulls at my other nipple and i'm so needy, i'm ready burst.

"chris." i pant. "please, chris."

letting my breast pop free, chris stands back to his full height. 

my hands reach for the string of his sweat shorts, undoing the knot and tugging them down. 

dark, tight briefs are all that stand between his cock and my hands and i tug those down too until his erection bobs free. 

of course it's perfect in every fucking way. 

my fingers wrap around his length, gliding up and down. chris' hand closes over mine and squeezes, forcing me to grip him tighter. 

freak ass. 

"take off your panties." he squeezes my hand once more before releasing his grip.

letting go of him, i shimmy out of my thong.

chris strokes himself while saying, "gimme a spin."

i smirk and slowly twirl around, making a show of it, moving my hips to the music that's still playing. 

"you're fucking perfect." then he's stepping to me, lifting me, and walking me to the bar in the corner of the room. the surface has bottles and glasses on it, so i'm half on the bar and afraid of sliding off in a heap of embarrassment. 

but then chris is using his hands to spread my thighs and when he steps between them, all thoughts other than him leave my body.

my hands grab ahold of the bottom of his shirt and pull until he chest is naked in front of me. 

at this point i'm beyond wet. i should be embarrassed considering the fact that he hasn't even touched my pussy yet, but the look on his face is pure hunger. 

he taps my thigh and lets out a command. "wider."

i press my thighs open further.

chris runs the tip of his dick up the length of my pussy. "please tell me you're on the pill."

red flags wave in my peripheral. i should stop this. i don't know him. there are worries beyond pregnancy. this man is a fucking stranger.

but instead of being smart, i nod. 

chris growls gripping the base of his cock lining it up with my more than ready entrance. the hand not on his dick runs up  my side, squeezing my breast, pinching my nipple then gripping the base of my neck. 

he presses his lips against mine while pressing into me. 

his tongue shoves into my mouth and i'm filled with him. 

all i can feel his him. 

all i can taste, all i can hear, all i can smell is chris. 

i was bracing for a quick thrust. but this... this is slow.

i arch. i writhe. i moan. 

with both hands on my ass now, chris pulls me forward, so i feel all of him. he picks up his speed. pulling out, slamming in. over and over. 

his hands are everywhere now, tugging on my piercings, gripping my ass, feeling all the skin he can. 

"chris!" i cry out, feeling my orgasm approaching. 

"that's it." he moans into my mouth.

and thumb presses on my clit and i jolt in surprise. 

"oh fuck-" my head falls back.

he circles my clit, faster and faster, pressing harder and harder. 

"eyes on me mama." he demands. my eyes flutter open and find his. "good girl." his fingers don't stop.

"i'm gonna cum."

"that's right ma. cum for me."

that was the last piece of the puzzle. 

i shatter around him, shaking and convulsing.

"yes, chris. fuck! thank you. oh my god thank you-"

i'm a mess. from one fucking orgasm. 

removing his hand from my clit, chris steps back and pulls out of me, my body arching towards his, trying to keep the contact. 

he lifts me off the bar and sets me down in front of him. my legs are like jelly so i'm relieved when i hear him say "on your knees, cleo."

that fucking name. he's just took me to mars so i guess he can know my government. "my names y/n."

a smile spreads across his face as he presses a kiss to my lips and slides his had to my jaw. "on your knees, y/n."

i comply, dropping down in front of him. he drags his thumb across my lips. "open up." my mouth opens wide and allowing him to guide his cock between my lips. 

i close my mouth around him, sucking his length and it's like all his self control flies away. 

he gathers my hair into a ponytail and presses in deeper. 

"i wanna fill you up." 

please.

he pulls back and thrusts deeper into me until i feel him in the back of my throat. 

"i wanna watch my cum dripping out of that pretty pussy." 

fuck.

"i wanna cum all over your piercings."

jesus fucking christ.

"but you gotta go back to work."

WHAT?

he pulls all the way out, letting me breathe.

"let me back in." he says 

i open my mouth and hes back, deep in my throat. "that's my good fucking girl." he groans out and throws his head back. 

i let out a moan at the praise and his whole body shakes. 

"fuuuuuuuck.." his grip on my hair tightens and he looks down at me. 

he picks up the speed of his thrusts and fucks my face with so much force i have to lean back and put my weight on my hands to stable myself. 

i feel him twitch in my mouth and he goes to pull back but i wrap my hand around the back of his thigh and move my lips to his tip, sucking. his eyes cross and his load shoots into my mouth.

chris pulls me up by the ponytail and brings my lips to his in a kiss. this one was softer, but just as passionate. 

pulling aways he says "you know i have to see you again right?" 

"i'd like that." i whisper. 

"good girl."

niyah speaks 2930 words dawg. sorry i've been MIA. me and my boyfriend broke up lol. but uhhh im backkkkk

taglist: @mattslolita @mattssluttygf @muwapsturniolo @chaossturns

[kodasmind]

Pre-WarGame Help

*A/N: HIHI it’s been a while so there might be mistakes, sorry about that. None the less I hope you guys enjoy🤎*

The WWE Universe was electric, the air thick with anticipation. WarGames was just around the corner, and tensions were running high. On one side stood Liv Morgan, Raquel Rodriguez, Nia Jax, Tiffany Stratton, and Candice LeRae—a team full of vicious intent. On the other was Bianca Belair, Naomi, Rhea Ripley, and Iyo Sky, still reeling from Jade Cargill’s mysterious backstage attack that had left their team one member short.

Rhea Ripley leaned against the wall backstage, phone pressed to her ear. Her tone was low but urgent as she spoke.

"Listen," Rhea said, her Australian accent cutting through the noise around her. "I know you left this place behind, but we need you. I need you. One last fight, for old times' sake."

The person on the other end hesitated before sighing. "Fine. One night, Rhea. That’s it."

Rhea smirked, a gleam of satisfaction in her eye. "That’s all I need."

---

The ring was set for the confrontation. Liv Morgan’s team stood tall, their confidence unshaken as they mocked Bianca, Naomi, Rhea, and Iyo.

"You’re outnumbered," Liv taunted, her voice dripping with condescension. "Again. It’s getting pathetic at this point."

Rhea stepped forward, her signature grin spreading across her face. "Outnumbered?" she scoffed. "Nah, we’re not."

As if on cue, the crowd erupted as you slid into the ring from behind Liv, moving with the stealth of a predator. You didn’t waste a second, delivering a swift blow to Liv’s back that sent her stumbling into the ropes.

The arena erupted into chaos. Liv barely had time to turn around before the rest of the ring descended into a full-blown brawl. Raquel charged at you, but you were ready, ducking her clothesline and spinning around to lock her into the *Black Widow*, your signature submission hold. The pain was immediate, and Raquel’s cries filled the arena as she struggled in vain to break free.

Meanwhile, Bianca and Naomi were trading blows with Nia and Tiffany, Iyo was diving off the top rope onto Candice, and Rhea was throwing Liv into the barricade outside the ring.

Raquel finally dropped to her knees under the pressure of your hold, but before she could tap out, Rhea’s voice cut through the chaos. "Alright, that’s enough!"

You released Raquel with a smirk, letting her crumple to the mat. The five of you—Bianca, Naomi, Iyo, Rhea, and you—stood tall in the center of the ring, the crowd roaring its approval.

Liv’s team scrambled to regroup outside the ring, nursing their wounds and glaring daggers at the five of you. Liv grabbed a mic, her voice shaking with anger. "This isn’t over!"

Rhea grabbed a mic of her own, her gaze locked on Liv. "Oh, it’s far from over. But come WarGames? You’re stepping into our territory now."

You exchanged a glance with Rhea, a silent understanding passing between you. You might’ve left WWE, but tonight proved one thing: you were back, and you were ready to fight.

The crowd chanted your name as the camera faded to black, setting the stage for an unforgettable WarGames showdown.

[thesullenfawn]

streamer!ellie hcs

(my first time writing so...🫣)

warnings: none, fem!reader

lowercase intended, pictures are from pinterest and they're not mine

credits to @/cafekitsune on tumblr for the divider

masterlist

♡ plays roblox sometimes and BEEFS with literal seven year olds on voice chat because they called her a noob.

♡ "there is no WAY you're calling me a noob when you have an invisible face you GOOFBALL ."

♡ both of yous live in a one bedroom apartment because yous live in a big city and rent and college is expensive.

♡ so sometimes you can be seen doing homework or studying on your bed or another desk in the background.

♡ "guys y/n is doing homework right now so she might say hi later."

♡ rages in minecraft survival mode and just quits the game after she dies for the millionth time.

♡ "i fr cannot do this like i can't bro this game is stupid as hell anyway....", eventhough she almost punched a hole through her monitor.

♡ you post cute little short, (and/or) faceless vlogs to document your travels or events and sometimes ellie is shown in them!!

♡ the comments are so 😭😭

♡ she absolutely would defend you straight away if you get any sort of hate though.

♡ wears the STUPIDEST t-shirts and you think they're funny but you refuse to let her wear them out.

♡ like that one shirt that says "lesbians eat what?!!" and it's a load of shocked looking cats on it.

♡ "ellie... can you please change your shirt? we're going to dinner 😥"

♡ fans also send them to her through a PO box if she has one and she unboxes them on stream too, so she has a whole collection.

♡ sometimes you join her stream when she's taking a break to eat dinner or something so you show the chat your sims 4 save file or another game you like.

♡ her mic is so bad but she refuses to change it because she thinks it sounds funny.

♡ speaking of sound she also spams that sound board she has to no return (i remember reading this from someone elses post help).

♡ "CHAT I WON LETS GO", *cue the crowd cheering sound effect and a load of blow horns*

♡ "what did i have for dinner? i had a cheeseburger....", *american national anthem plays*

♡ did a whole stream watching edits her fans made her and she was giggling the whole time. (she has a favourites folder on tiktok)

♡ she's totally a repost warrior.

♡ eventhough she does stream kinda often, she makes sure to spend a lot of time with you, even if it's pausing the stream to help you make dinner during a suuuuper long charity stream or something.

♡ if she posts a photo dump on instagram or something you're always in it somehow, and it's always faceless if you don't want your face shown to that many people online.

♡ always sosososo supportive of everything you do and tells the chat if you're comfortable, she's just such a cutie pie.

♡ "guys my pretty girlfriend is graduating soon can you believe that she's just such a genius".

♡ doesn't mention the fact that she is also in college like 😭😭.

♡ sometimes she just doesn't know what to do so she goes on google maps.

♡ "lemme show yous the block i live on.... wait nevermind woah".

♡ you heard that from the other room and your heart DROPPED.

please don't buy tlou games as the creator is a zionist.

[knottedhearts]

Hand's off: B.E

Backstage is a whirlwind of activity—lights flashing, crew members rushing around, and the distant roar of the crowd echoing through the arena. You sit on a couch near Maggie, trying to calm your racing heart. Billie is out there, performing for thousands, her voice filling the massive space with raw emotion.

Maggie nudges you. “Relax. You look like you’re gonna pass out.”

You laugh nervously. “I’m fine. Just… I don’t know. It’s a lot.”

As if on cue, Billie’s voice echoes through the speakers, soft and playful. “So, um…” She hesitates, then adds in her signature goofy tone, “I have a special someone, and I would like you all to meet her.”

Your heart drops into your stomach. What?

The crowd erupts, some cheering, others murmuring. Heat floods your face as Maggie pats your back. “Go on, kiddo. She’s waiting for you.”

You stare at her, wide-eyed. “Right now?”

“Right now,” she says firmly, giving you a gentle shove.

The stairs to the stage loom ahead, and with each step you climb, the crowd’s energy seems to double. By the time you step into the lights, the noise is deafening. Your hands tremble as you look out into the sea of faces, some smiling, others… not. You catch a few boos, but you can’t focus on them. Your eyes find Billie.

She’s standing in the middle of the stage, her blue eyes sparkling under the lights. The moment you reach her, she gets up from her stool, closing the space between you in a few quick strides. And then, without warning, she kisses you.

The world tilts. For a moment, all you can hear is the thunderous applause and screams from the audience. When she pulls away, her hand cups your cheek, her thumb brushing against your skin as she smiles.

“That’s my girl,” she says into the mic, her voice filled with pride.

The rest of the performance passes in a blur. Billie sings Birds of a Feather, and you stay near the side of the stage, trying to process what just happened. The song ends, and it’s time for you to walk off.

You take the path between the fans, your head down, trying to ignore the chaos around you. Then you feel it—a sharp tug on your shirt. You stumble, panic shooting through you as you turn to see a guy trying to pull you closer.

“Hey!”

Before you can react, Billie is there. She abandons her guitar mid-stage, sprinting down the pathway. The fury in her eyes is unmistakable.

She shoves the guy hard, her voice sharp and commanding. “Keep your fucking hands off her, dude!”

The crowd gasps as security rushes in, separating Billie from the fan. She turns to you, her expression softening immediately. “You okay?”

You nod, though your heart is pounding in your chest.

Billie wraps her arm around you protectively, leading you away from the chaos. As you reach the backstage area, she glances at you, her voice gentle. “I’m sorry about that. I wasn’t gonna let anyone mess with you.”

You manage a shaky smile. “You didn’t have to do all that.”

“Yes, I did,” she says, her tone firm but full of love. “You’re my girl.”

And just like that, all the noise fades away.

[gyuslvrr]

[ᴄ.ʏᴊ] | 𝗳𝗹𝗶𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗶𝗿

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: being the newest mbank mc comes with its perks - that's in choi yeonjun's case though as he gets to flirt with you on air!

ᴀ/ɴ: gn reader. this is so old it’s from the gbgb era 😭 this is CRINGE!!!

“My darlings are here today.” Yeonjun announces with his usual bright smile stretched across his features. You watch fondly as he speaks about his team members, even if he looks quite stupid as he does so with the fake airline hat that’s a bit too big for his head.

“Right. Isn’t it your first time promoting while being an MC, Yeonjun?” You ask, recalling the scripted conversation that was printed onto your cue cards. You mentally pat yourself on the back after saying the sentence correctly and not fumbling over it.

“Yes!” He replies cheerily “Tell me something, [y/n]” Yeonjun adds.

You blink. You don’t quite remember this in the script.

“Yeah?” You reply as your free hand cards through your hair nervously. The pressure to remember your reply has your heart racing nervously. Maybe it’s a little extra embarrassing to forget your line when past MC Soobin (who was extremely good at his job) is politely stood behind you and Yeonjun with the rest of TXT.

“Do you prefer good boys or bad boys?” He asks daringly. You hear a couple of the TXT boys stifle their laughter behind cupped hands and pursed lips at the question.

Definitely not in the script.

“Bad boys, of course” You reply swiftly. Whether it was a set up to introduce TXT, you’re not sure, but you take the lead to part from Yeonjun to introduce the group.

There’s a couple whoops from behind you, accompanied by an eyebrow wiggle from Beomgyu which you caught after the broadcast (a stern message was sent to him after).

With a swift pre-introduction of the group, you slide away to reveal the five members. They cheerily introduce themselves with Yeonjun switching seamlessly between MC Yeonjun and TXT Yeonjun. It’s amazing how he’s able to switch between personas without fumbling over his words.

You’re almost so amazed that you just about miss your cue.

“Y-Yeonjun,” You stutter, jumping onto your cue “Hopefully it’s not too much to ask, but would you and your members like to sing a couple of your killing parts from Good Boy gone Bad?” You smile, hiding how flustered you are behind your mic. A couple of the members giggle lightly, catching that you almost missed your line.

With flushed faces, each member sings their little killing parts. You can’t help but smile brightly, watching as they become a little flustered when the crew cheers them on.

“집어치워 love 개나 줘 forever

피 대신 흘러 monochrome diamonds

Killed it, I killed it myself

곤두박질 부러진 날개로

추락해도 아프지 않아 anymore

I like being bad.” Yeonjun refuted his rap, exuding a confidence that you don’t think you’ll ever have. Any time an MC has asked you to sing or rap when you’re standing in the idol’s position has felt like the world has caved in on you.

“[Y/N].” Yeonjun starts once you’ve all stopped clapping. You nod, looking eagerly at Yeonjun. The devious expression on his face causes your stomach to drop.

“Since you said you like bad boys, did you hear when I said I like being bad?” He smugly asks, ignoring the bird like screeches emanating from his group (namely Kai and Beomgyu) as well as the flustered yelling of staff.

You look absolutely bewildered and the camera man takes the opportunity to zoom in on you. You stare at Yeonjun who continues to smugly smirk, but you can see a lightly red dusting begin to appear on his cheeks.

“Um…” You stutter, wrecking your head to find anything else in the script. Beomgyu is shouting and to say the least, complete chaos is erupting behind you. Not only have the group made it obvious that this definitely isn’t in the script but your reaction solidifies it.

“Anyway,” You segway, desperately trying to find a way out of the situation “Up next, The Boyz and Astro.”

The crew are still laughing as the camera cuts, even the camera shakes as the camera man tries to keep his laugh in. You let out a flustered laugh, beelining for the general waiting room.

You weave past staff, idols and all sorts of people, dodging their laughs and remarks as they had been watching the whole ordeal on the small monitoring screens places throughout the building.

It’s not hard to hear the pounding footsteps that follow behind you. Kai’s loud laugh and the general noise that follows Beomgyu ensures the thought that they’re practically running after you.

You’re swift, though. You reach the MC room and close the door over, ignoring how the staff fawn over you to fix your hair and makeup. You have probable another hour of recording and you’ve practically sweat all of your makeup off from pure nerves.

“[y/n]!” Yeonjun shouts over the sound of the door thwacking off of its hinges. You jump, not expecting the sound or Yeonjun so quickly.

“Did you have to slam the door?” You query, passing a look over your shoulder. Your hair and makeup team were silently pampering you and therefore not giving you room to move. Yeonjun takes the chance to walk in front of you so he can speak to you properly.

“You got so embarrassed, it was funny.” He smiles, laughing at the annoyed look scrawled across your brows. Your makeup artist taps your forehead, silently telling you to stop creasing. You sigh.

“I am never doing a broadcast with you again. You are so lucky that the other MC isn’t here today.” You scoff.

Yeonjun laughs “What do you mean?”

“Cause I’m going to beat your ass and no one is going to be here to stop me.”

[nevernonline]

✧.* pancakes for dinner; svt smau masterlist

✧.* synopsis: y/n while in her third year at greenwood international university finally gets an opportunity to move off campus into a new complex, she has to deal with the realization that her childhood rival is her new next door neighbor.

 paring: seungcheol x fem! reader. 

feat: non-idol! svt, nct mark&jaehyun, other passing idols ykyk.

genre/s: reader is super oblivious, fluffy, sexual themes. 

content: swearing, mentions of sexual relations, some drinking& mary jane 🍃

start date:7/8

updates: weekly (or at least bi-weekly)

tag list - open

note/s: this is a revamp of a series I originally started a few months ago that I wasn't vibing with further, but!! I decided to revamp her a little and make our main man captain coups as the lead because he is severely lacking from my other smau and I need him around. this is going to tie in elements of the two things i did release from means something (which I also never finished but, for good reason ok!) after the finish of gawg I will be posting this 🖤

chapters under the cut.

✧.* profiles:

001 | 002 | 003

✧.* entires:

00. x marks the spot

01. new beginnings

02. you have to be kidding me.

03. day old sushi

04. house not so warming

05. mic drop.

06. husband material

07. shaken up, not stirred.

08. old wounds

09. messy karaoke

10. cute undies

11. late night talking

12. social cues

12.5 boo’s big bash. (bonus)

13. fallout

[fatkish]

Hey hey I was wondering if you could do a aizawa with his teen daughter who just found out she was pregnant and how he and her deal with everything

[Since Anon didn’t specify whether the daughter was impregnated by choice, I’m going to go a darker route and say that the reader was r~~~d by their ex (they were together at the time, but they broke up after the reader found out their boyfriend assaulted them in their sleep) and although they are upset about the situation, they can’t bring themselves to terminate the baby.]

Aizawa x Teen Daughter Reader: Teenage Pregnancy

You and your boyfriend had a really good relationship going. You both had agreed to save sex for when you were out of Highschool and both had stable jobs

At least, that’s what you thought

You were 17 years old when you got ‘sick’. Constantly throwing up in the mornings and certain smells made you puke.

Aizawa had noticed this and hoped it was just the flu but decided to be safe and went to buy Pregnancy tests and left them on your bed with a note saying:

“I picked these up for you, I promise I won’t be angry or upset with you if you’re pregnant. You’re old enough to know that every action has consequences. Just know that I’m here to help in any way I can.

Love, Dad”

When you missed your period you decided to take the tests. Needless to say they were positive.

When Aizawa heard you crying through the bathroom door, his heart slightly broke, so he tried to talk to you

“Sweetheart, are you going to be able to come out and talk to me? I know that you’re upset but please know that I’m not going to be mad at you or scold you. You knew that this was going to be something that could happen when you had sex”

Cue the reader crying even harder. That’s when Aizawa knew, he f~~~ed up.

Oh, oh this is much worse then he could have possibly imagined. His heart broke in two and he felt a simmering of rage start to boil in his gut

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry, forget what I said, you didn’t choose this but I promise I’m going to be here and help you no matter what you choose to do.”

Eri was awake and heard the commotion and asked about what was going on. When Aizawa tried to explain what was happening that’s when you exited the bathroom with a positive test

You knelt down and did your best to explain to Eri what was happening and what it meant. When you saw the look of wonder and excitement on her sweet little face, that was when you decided to keep the baby

Aizawa had called Mic and let him know what was happening as well as Midnight. They both drove over and stayed with you (Midnight didn’t die in this story) whilst Aizawa left to go deal with your Ex

First Trimester:

Aizawa, Mic and Nemuri are there for everything. Aizawa is there at every checkup and has a picture of the ultrasound in his wallet

He started getting things early and stocking up on necessities like diapers, bottles, wipes, etc.

Started to baby-proof the house, helped get a crib set up as well as the nursery

Second Trimester:

He started preparing for you to be homeschooled during maternity leave and made sure you would still be on track to graduate

He and Mic start to buy gender neutral baby clothes, books, toys, etc.

He takes you to every appointment

Third Trimester:

Oh boy, he nervous

His students hear about it and hold a baby shower for you. Each member of class 1A gets you of the baby something. Some of their gifts include: an All Might and Eraserhead onesies, cute baby clothes, some books, a baby food processor and recipe book with storage containers, maternity friendly tea, stuffed toys, etc.

As you start to show more, Nemuri takes you shopping for clothes

Aizawa and Mic surprised you with a painted nursery as well as a car seat

Birth:

Aizawa never had so many mixed emotions all at once

When he got the call at school that you went into labor, he dropped his things and immediately headed to the hospital

Grabs the to go bag as an after thought

Eri calls the baby her little brother and promises to be the best big sister ever

Every milestone, Aizawa is taking pictures of

Of course, uncle Mic helps out with the baby and everything

[ghostsy]

Smile For the Camera

WARNINGS: yandere, implied kidnapping, implied imprisonment, abuse of power, slight codependency, non-consensual implications, implied nsfw, implied forced pregnancy, lot of implications lol

A/N: been sitting in the drafts for a while, figured i should get smth out, hopefully it's alright ^^

read at your own discretion.

yandere ! BAKUGOU KATSUKI X READER

“Her eyes are up there, creep.”

She had to resist the urge to sigh, lip twisting in slight pity, watching the boy stammer out an apology as he fumbled with the mic at her chest. She scoffed internally. Was he supposed to put it on blindfolded? She turned to her lover, giving him a gentle, reassuring smile.

It’s okay. I’m okay.

Crimson irises met her own, hesitating a bit as his jaw tightened reflexively. He smacked his tongue against his teeth, rolling his eyes, and turned to the host who was shuffling through her cue cards. Memorizing her lines, it seemed.

“I don’t want any of that surprise shit, alright?” His voice was laced with the sort of irritation that would normally send her on full alert. They were in public right now, though, and callous, gruff reputation aside, he was no idiot, “We’ll walk out; I’m not fuckin’ kidding, we’ve done it before.”

The host laughed out his name–his hero name–nervously, “Of course not, sir. All of our questions were sent to your assistant for prior approval,” As she caught his unimpressed stare, she stumbled out another placation, “But, I mean–Of course, if you–you’re more than welcome to look over them again, sir.”

“Fuckin’ stop it with that–‘sir’--makes me feel old as shit.” Did it? That was news to her. He certainly liked it when it came from her lips. Her mind wandered to its most recent recollection. When she was forced to her knees, his hand at the back of her neck, pooling the tears from her eyes at the dip where her cheek met the pillow–she couldn’t remember what she’d done wrong that time. 

Where he’d brought his lips to her ear,  C’mon, voice rough and deep, Ask me nicely, now, And, raising his voice a few octaves to mock her, Please, sir. He huffed out an ugly laugh, Please give me your cock, sir. God, she hadn’t been able to walk straight for days, legs and dignity sore and bruised from the abuse–only one of which ever really seemed to recover.

“Of course, si–Of course. We’re on in–We’ll be ready in five, if that’s alright?” He gave the woman a curt nod, and she’d shuffled off to the stage to prepare, calling the intern tending to her to follow, a direction the boy took with palpable relief, eyes brushing her own apologetically before he hurried off.

“Hey,” The blonde’s attention was turned back to her, and he stalked forward, “Last one, alright?” He brought his hand to her cheek in comfort, though all she could think of was the ease at which he could snap her neck between his fingers without so much as blinking.

She shook herself from her thoughts, humming, and brought her hand to cup his own, leaning into his touch. “It’s alright,” At least I’m outside, she wanted to say, “Long as I’m with you, I’m alright.”

His eyes softened at her answer, and he opened his mouth to reply when the lights dimmed, catching his attention. His hand dropped to catch her own, lacing their fingers together, tightening with tension. She had to resist the urge to wince. Though entirely different in circumstance, she felt slight vindication for his fear, no matter how fleeting. She’d take what little wins she could get. 

She was pulled back to reality by the tug of his hand, and let him lead her to the couch across from the host. Fuck. Looking out at the crowd, she remembered how much she really did hate these things. Hundreds of smiling faces, millions more behind the camera, all glinting with pity–for all the wrong reasons–and cooing at the sickeningly sweet story spun for the masses to cling to with glee, without question.

There was a call of her name, “And, how are you adjusting? After what you’ve been through,” What she’s been through. She suppressed a bitter laugh. As if it was all over, as if she was safe. 

“It’s been hard, of course,” She’d rehearsed the lines in the mirror, and recited variations in numerous interviews before, “But I’m so grateful, you know,” That didn’t stop the tears that fought their way up her throat, “To have him by my side–he really is–he really,” God, the words felt like acid on her tongue, “He really is my hero.”

The crowd awed, and the host brought a hand to her chest, “How beautiful,” She caught his side eye–suspicious–and she squeezed his hand in reassurance, “The two of you–really the silver lining in an otherwise horrible happenstance.”

She laughed lightly, ignoring the burn in her chest, “I’m so grateful. I don’t know what–I couldn’t imagine what I’d do without him.” She moved to wrap her arm around his own, leaning into his shoulder. Time had conditioned the contact to feel like a sort of comfort.

The host smiled, and turned back to ask him a question, something about how he’d found her, how he’d saved her.

How had he found her? She remembered meeting him a few times before–she’d worked for the number one hero, his childhood friend–and he’d never spared her more than a cursory glance, and the exchange of brief, formal pleasantries while she sat in on their meetings, transcribing, taking notes, just doing her job. 

“Was just doin’ my job,” Ha. Ironic. “S’what heroes do.” He looked at her for a moment, softly, and she wanted to tear his eyes out, “We save people and we fuckin’ win.” He gave his signature sharp, crooked smile, and the audience roared to life, hands clapping in misguided awe and appreciation.

How had he found her? What did she have that the millions of men and women and people that wanted him–that dreamed of him–didn’t? She wished she could erase it–tear out whatever part of her had captured his attention–maybe he’d have left her alone if she’d been able to kill it.

“The determination, the grit it must’ve taken,” The host started up again, “Years of searching, it’s truly amazing how you managed to save her.” 

How had he saved her? He liked to remind her that that’s what he had done. She remembered being called into work late–a normal occurrence, but she still cursed herself for obliging that day–being met, not by her boss, but him. Maybe she would have said yes if he’d gone about it differently–if he’d taken her out on a date, brought her flowers, spoke to her softly and gently–but he wasn’t ever soft, and he wasn’t ever gentle.

“M’not a fuckin’ pussy, that’s how. I ain’t backin’ down from a challenge just ‘cause it’s hard.” Yeah. He never backed down from a challenge. Though, he never stopped to think that maybe a challenge was not a dare, not something to overcome, that maybe the challenge didn’t want to be a challenge at all. That this challenge didn’t want to be a conquest, that she wanted to be a person.

“And you,” The attention was back on her, “How strong you are,” She hated that look; everyone she met these days gave her that look, “The fear and pain you must’ve endured is unimaginable.” Well, she was half right, she supposed. 

She was stupid to think she knew pain before–she didn’t know pain–not the kind of pain she’d come to call home these past years. The type of pain that came in the form of finger shaped burns, and ugly sticky white staining the inside of her thighs. The type of pain that was loud and angry and all consuming, that bruised her hips, rubbed her throat raw, left her aching and shaking and breaking. The type of pain that took and took and took until there was nothing left of her to give–and yet, still took more.

“Hopefully there’s some consolation,” The woman continued at her silence, “That the people who did this to you–who imprisoned you–have faced justice.”

She wanted to laugh until she screamed. She’d long been disillusioned with the idea of justice. Justice. Ha. What a joke. She’d made her peace with the hand she’d been dealt. Resigned herself to what cruel fate the god she didn’t believe in had bestowed upon her. Why then, why now, had he graced her with a window to her prison? She knew why. Subconsciously, her hand fell to trace along her stomach.

“It’s…relieving, to say the least.” She forced a laugh, and caught a look she took as approval on her warden’s face. “All I want to do now is settle down, move on…” She swallowed. Come on. You’ve done this a million times. “Start our family.”

He took his arm from her grip to wrap around her shoulders, flashing a sharp smile, “That’s my fuckin’ girl,” Her cheeks heated–more from annoyance than embarrassment–but the crowd awed all the same. “Strongest damn person I’ve ever met.”

Strong? That was a new one. Usually she’d get the opposite; weak, helpless, quirkless. Was she strong? She could find a million reasons to contradict the idea. Someone strong would’ve fought, would’ve kicked and screamed and cried until someone–anyone–listened to her, until she truly was free. She’d rolled over and shown her belly so easily, hadn’t she?

No. She did fight. She’d gone through all the kicking and screaming and crying she could. But the years had worn her down. She found it was easier–and less painful–to let him have his way. He could be soft when he had his way; he could be gentle when he had his way; she decided she liked it when he was soft and gentle. And so, he had his way.

Still. Someone, not her, could make the case that she couldn’t be strong at all, to go along with this farce. And to this person she’d point them to–

“The Hero Commission truly is an outstanding institution,” The universe had a sick sense of humor, didn’t it? “To keep a case like this–no leads–open so long,” The host smiled a smile with too many teeth, “We are so lucky to have the protection from such noble leaders.”

He replied, something about heroes and how great and strong and infallible they were. She was too busy fantasizing about how lovely the world would’ve been had it been turned to ash and dust all those years ago. 

Because, honestly. How bad could the villains be? If it was a hero that had imprisoned her. A hero who had stolen her from her life and raped her and impregnated her all in the name of love. How bad could the villains be if it was the heroes who kept her trapped in this joke of a life? She decided she liked villains more than heroes. At the very least, they owned up to their crimes. 

She turned to look at him, his sharp features, built like a tank, and yet, still entirely too pretty for the devastation he had wrought upon her. She couldn’t tell if he was a hero or a villain. She couldn’t tell if she hated him or if she loved him. 

“I ain’t into all that sappy shit,” He started, “But, end of the day, I’m the luckiest fucker in the world havin’ her here with me. Wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.”

Both? Maybe it was both. Could you hate someone you loved? Could you love someone you hated? He lifted his arm to ruffle her hair, and she decided it didn’t matter. She’d long resigned herself to this fate; what was another resignation?

“No,” She turned as the audience roared to life, “Not a single thing.”

And she smiled for the camera.

[2truehearts]

I HAVE MORE @soleillunne

pspspsppspspspsp,,,,,, @soleillunne <3

[jmdbjk]

January

It's been every which way over here, not gonna lie, I'm ready for a month of nothing happening.

That being said, Hobi is about to unleash some music to get us lathered up prior to embarking on his world tour.

But that's a kind of chaos I welcome. More, please. (see what I did there?) Orchestra Mic Drop needs to be on the set list. Manifesting.

Anyway... Jimin. I can't wait to have fun conversations with you about your military service. I'm positive the stories will keep us enraptured for ages. I can't wait to have you back with us. I see the snow falling in Korea and I am thinking of you and your crew shoveling away, then knocking the snow off your boots and heading inside to the mess hall where Jungkook and his crew have cooked up some steaming bowls of hearty stew or soup to warm you all up.

Soon, the spring days will be here and then before we know it, it'll be June 11 and you and Jungkook will be back. As of today, 130 days left. We will already be on a high from welcoming Namjoon and Tae back.

What will that first day be like? Will you and Jungkook sit on that couch in the Hybe building in your military uniforms with balloons and flowers next to you, and turn on a Weverse live just like Jin and Hobi did?

No pressure, lol. BUT WE REALLY NEED TO SEE IF YOUR ASS IS OUT OF THIS WORLD. YOU PROMISED.

You mentioned that you and Jungkook talk about a lot of things before going to sleep. The things you talk about in those deep conversations are probably becoming more and more real to the both of you every day. Don't be scared. Don't be worried. We only want you to be safe, happy and out of there. Really LUYO 💜 too.

The day is coming when we can all say YOU DID IT! WE DID IT! WE ALL MADE IT! NOW ON WITH THE REAL SHOW!!

And last but definitely not least, the first group live with Yoongi... cue the tears. Will he get out early? Saved vacation days? Would he even show himself if he did? Or will he go by the book all the way to the end? We wait™️.

I heard Kim Jones is leaving Dior. I was not a fan of the last few seasons of his creations. I could not imagine Jimin wearing any of that mess. The new mens creative is supposedly JW Anderson. Not sure when we'll see first glimpses of his Dior menswear. He better be prepared to fit Jimin's sculpted butt perfectly.

And Pharrell has designed a new Tiffany line called Titan that has little spikey things and such...

I have finally realized I have entered a phase where all I'm concerned with is what is happening in real time to all the members. What are their thoughts, their state of mind now while fulfilling their duties? What are their concerns, what are the things that bring them joy and satisfaction? What are the forces and events that are impacting them?

We can glean these things from their brief moments they post on Instagram or Weverse, or when their fellow soldiers or colleagues post things that help us see more.

We know Namjoon is about to die from boredom. He knows what is planned and he knows its going to be big.

We know Tae is very proud that he's met his target goal to join the Bangtan buff-line. But we'll have to be the judge of that because Jimin says they're working out and he has "good things to show us" (see: out of this world butt above).

Jungkook needs a little confidence boosting but is ready to belt out karaoke at a moment's notice. Hand that man a mic please.

And Jimin is nervous because he's immersed himself in his soldier role for the past 1 year and 2 months and now must pivot and make the shift back to his real life.

Jin has worked 3 weeks straight and we don't know what that means.

Hobi is busy melding the LA hiphop scene into his DNA and prepping for a concert tour to blow us away. Can't wait.

And Yoongi... an autograph left somewhere but when? Recent? Not recent? Someone saying they MIGHT have spotted him. He's been a ghost. He said he would be. And that's what will make his re-emergence that much more emotional for all of us, to finally see him and his smile.

Ok, that was a good ramble. Until next time, everyone dress warmly if you live on the top half, dress for summer if you live on the bottom half but all of you stay safe and always look for the positive.