#AND she is a manipulative bitch AND I love her

[hurlingdown]

                     THE BAAAAD TOUCH!

synopsis. there’s a very thin line between the way animals fuck on the discovery channel and the way you fuck them. featuring shameless, rough sex with the arcane men, and a third secret option at the end. jayce, vander, silco, viktor.

tags. top! reader, sub! jayce, vander, silco, viktor. reader has a cock. rough anal sex, creampie(s), exhibitionism, infidelity, cumslut! jayce, doggy, riding, size difference, huge cock, belly bulge, size queen! viktor, sweat kink, strength kink, breeding kink, implied marathon sex, dirty talk, degradation, praise kink, excessive amounts of manhandling, age difference, established relationships. cock-hungrified men. (lmao)

a/n. inspired by this song from bloodhound gang.

“does she know?” you pant into his ear, grip strong and sweaty on his hips, and jayce feels dirty, the way he’s being mounted like a bitch. “does she know about the way i fuck you? the sounds you make when i fill your pretty hole up?”  

he shudders, shaking his head, nails raking down your biceps as he tries to lift his head, to be less vulnerable in the way you’re taking him, but to no avail. he feels the hot burn of your palm at the back of his neck, and he finds himself back with his cheek pressed against the sheets, back arching with the violence of forcing his body to accommodate both pleasure and pain plowing away at his dignity. 

 “fuck!” he gasps, “let’s not, nnngh! talk about this. not, not right now.” it’s not the first time you’ve brought mel up in a conversation, but hardly ever more than an offhand comment, something to tease, something for fun. this… this was unknown territory. 

“why? you don’t like it?” there’s a strange displacement in your voice, a touch whiny, as though you were pouting at his denial. jayce thinks he’s going insane, because as manipulative as you were, there was no way he could say no to you. not with that look on your face. the one he can’t see but knows it’s there. 

“doesn’t matter,” jayce whispers. “it’s not ri- right.” 

you want to laugh. it’s not right? so it’s all right and just if he sneaks into your bed almost every other night for you to get him off simply because said girlfriend never could—nights of sweat and sinful lovemaking that end with him sneaking out of your room with a limp—but it’s not okay if you want to talk about it? how was that fair? 

“you don’t like her anyway, do you?” you mutter. “you should just get rid of her and be with me.” you tighten your hold on him. you want it to bruise. you want him to go home with your marks on his body. you want mel to ask about them and jayce squirming as he tries to think of a stupid excuse to fool her again. faulty gym equipment. sparring session gone wrong. you know all of his excuses. it’s funny, the way he tries to patch things up. “this is cruel… to the both of us. don’t you wanna get this over with?” 

“it’s- unh, complicated!” jayce moans, but there’s nothing complicated about it, he just doesn’t want to talk. doesn’t want to feel the shame and guilt making his guts tangle and heart pound—the way you fit into him so perfectly, so innately, like you’ve always belonged inside him, a missing piece to his puzzle. 

he bites back a whine as the thick head of your cock pushes against his swollen prostate, and he’s not sure if he can even feel his legs at this point. it’s humiliating, the way you’re cooing nasty words into his ear, handprints branding his hips as you tug him up only to slam downwards against him, pushing him further down into the mattress with every heavy thrust. 

“why? what’s keeping you then? hah. don’t tell me. does she fuck you like this too?” you snarl, sucking hot purple bruises down the column of his neck, salt and iron underneath your tongue making you hungry, and he keens. “so desperate for cock you’d let your girlfriend fuck you, jayce? well? does she fuck you as good as i do?” 

“noo,” jayce slurs, shaking his head, “nothing’s as good. you’re the best. love it. love you.” 

“really?” you bark out a laugh, and he nods dumbly, like his body’s conditioned to respond to your every whim, wanting to please, to serve. “well, i don’t see it at all. only thing you could ever be in love with is my cock.” 

“ah- ah, yeah, that too,” he whines, “love you more.” 

“liar,” you growl, and he sobs out at the way your length drags across his walls, thick and girthy, missing his prostate on purpose. it’s a punishment, jayce knows. he’s sorry. he feels so guilty. “pretty slutty liar. you’ll do anything to get stuffed, won’t you? even if it means cheating on your little girlfriend. you’ll even enjoy it, the moment you break her heart.” 

jayce shakes his head, tears blurring his vision. he can’t even say anything at this point, with the way you’re forcing him to take, fucking the words out of him. he can’t help being addicted to this. it’s too good. mel would understand, wouldn’t she? she would, if only she could have a taste of it. it’s not his fault. not really. 

“you probably think she’ll never know. you probably think she’ll never find out.” you’re talking again, but the sounds buzz by, intelligible. jayce swallows, letting your accusation wash over him. he has been careful, hasn’t he. surely she won’t know. surely she can’t know. “the way you start crying when you’re about to cum. you think she’ll never know about that, right?” 

he doesn’t know what you mean, but it’s so hard to think. there’s wetness on his cheeks and the low flame in his belly has blazed into a forest fire. he wants to cum. he needs it. he needs it hard and rough, bruises on his waist and hips and love bites on his collarbones, hard, heavy thrusts that make him feel dizzy and high and stupid, drowning him in the throes of pleasure that only you can give to him. 

“please,” jayce begs, tears streaming down his face. “i want, ngh… ah, want your cum in me.” 

and before he knows it, there’s the rush of hot cum flooding his hole, the sweaty press of your chest against his back, your hips trembling and bucking against his, and it’s so good it makes him see stars. but you don’t stop. it’s messy and filthy, and pure bliss when he feels you snake a hand into his hair and wrench his head up, rough and careless just the way he likes it. 

his eyes roll back before his cock starts helplessly spurting at the sight of mel standing in the doorway, watching him being bred like a whore.

VANDER

. . . vander thinks he maybe maybe made a mistake, telling you to be rough with him. because this is exactly the kind of rough he likes. 

“oh, fuck, sweetness,” he moans, arousal bleeding into his guttural voice as he arches his back and cants his hips backwards to receive your thrusts, taking you deeper inside, his ass bouncing every time you meet his hips with a wet, nasty ‘pap’. “t-thaat’s it, kid. right there, fuck, harder…” 

he’s clutching his pillow tightly, waves of pleasure shackling him to the bed as you’re pounding away at his hole from behind. you’ve snaked a hand into his hair to wrench his head up roughly, and a low whine pushes its way past his lips, punctuated by a sharp, deadly thrust aimed at his prostate. he’s pretty sure his own cock’s rubbed raw against the sheets, spurting so much pre there’s a sticky, slippery pool underneath him—easing the steamy push and glide. 

there are stars bursting at the corners of his eyes, threatening to consume his vision, and he can vaguely feel his toes curl and thighs spasm at every brush of your cock against his bundle of nerves. there’s sweat dripping down his face, a salty tang on his tongue, and he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand, hearing nothing but his own heavy pants and groans, attuned to the rhythm of your thrusts. it’s too good. almost makes him feel young again. he’s halfway through his forties, and yet you’re fucking him like he’s twenty. 

vander can feel your hands all over him, pressing heavy bruises onto the tender fat of his waist and hips, bodily dragging him back onto your cock every time you ram forward, making sure to put your entire weight behind it. the mattress is letting out horrible creaking sounds, the headboard of the bed slamming into the wall in perfect tempo, and the both of you are going to regret this later, but fuck, he doesn’t care. 

it’s addicting. it’s violent. vander shouldn’t be enjoying this, but he is. 

“fuck, love, y’er gonna make me cum already,” he chokes out, and it’s more of a drunken slur, really — there’s something about the way you’re treating him that makes him dizzy and weak at the knees. his fists are clenched, grasping at the bedsheets every time he feels like snaking a hand between his legs and jerking off to your thrusts. he wants to enjoy it, savour it—the way you’re taking him, pressing him into the mattress like you’re trying to break the bed before you break him, gaze hungry enough to swallow him up in your lust. 

“go ahead and cum, vander,” you drawl, grabbing a handful of his ass before sharply spanking him across, the sting rewarding you with a full-body shiver. “i want you to cum like it’s your last night on earth.” 

who the absolute fuck does this kid think he is, vander thinks, and he quickly buries his face back into the pillow because he knows he’s going to get loud. you’re insane. insanely bad at dirty talk, but your hunger makes up for it. he’s never liked dirty talking that much, but fuck, if you weren’t something different. cum like it’s his last night on earth? he really underestimated how greedy you were. 

“cocky,” he wheezes instead, once he’s caught his breath, “y’er gonna, haah, hafta fuck me harder for that to happen.” it’s yet another bad decision, and he’s digging his own grave, he knows it. as if you aren’t already fucking him within an inch of his life—the bulbous shape of your cockhead digging into his prostate with such immaculate precision, pressing the shape of your handprints into his skin as you fuck him with your eyes, your hands and your cock. 

hungry. intense. unforgettable. vander doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of it. 

before he can even breathe, you’ve hooked one arm under his thigh, tossing him over onto his back like you’re flipping a fucking pancake, and vander’s not a delicate man by all means. without wasting a second, you’re pushing inside him again, groaning shamelessly as his wet, warm cave engulfs you perfectly. vander makes a desperate noise, eyes squeezing shut—there’s no pillow to muffle his cries or hide his expressions from you this time, but he’s far too close to be embarrassed. 

the new position’s got you so deep inside him, and it’s getting harder to breathe, almost as though he could feel you all the way to his throat. it’s uncomfortable and very inconsiderate of his aching back, but the mind-numbing pleasure hammering away at his sweet spot makes up for it. 

“s-so fuckin’ good, kid,” he pants out, arching his back with a moan as you reach down to grope at his tits, the muscles plump and soft with tender age, hole clenching around you tightly every time you tug at his perky nipples. his cock’s all leaky, drooling over his stomach and making a mess, and he’s so aroused it’s almost endearing. “fuck me… god, fuck me.” 

he’s going to cum hands-free, vander thinks, and shit, you’re going to be so smug about this after you’re done with having your way with him. vander sneaks a glance at you—eyelids fluttering, making little grunts of pleasure every time you bully your way into his tight wet warmth. it embarrassingly makes the back of his neck burn, makes him feel all hot and sexy and wanted. 

“yeah? best cock you’ve ever taken, vander?” you purr, and his breath stutters, seizing up with a yell and then he’s fucking cumming with you balls-deep inside him. guess you’ll take that as a yes.

SILCO

silco doesn’t know how long he’s been bent over in that same fucking position, but he doesn’t plan on making you stop anytime soon. 

“darling, not so rough. . .” he gasps out, nails raking down the expensive wood of his office desk while you plow away at him from behind, his hole sopping wet but tight, as though you haven’t cum two times in him already. he can feel his knees knocking into the hard front of the desk with every brutal thrust, the weeping tip of his erection grazing the cool mahogany, the pleasure inside him making his lower belly burn with a flame he hasn’t felt in a long time. 

“why?” you grin, draping yourself over his half-clothed stature, his pants yanked down to his ankles as he’s bent over to take. you shuffle forward, making sure his ass is pressed snugly against your crotch before giving an experimental roll of your hips, always reaching deeper, for more. “worried that they’ll hear?” 

silco presses his lips together in a thin line, tilting his face away from yours, and if you didn’t know any better, you would have thought he were sulking. you laughed. it was just too easy to piss him off sometimes. 

“i’m just playing around, baby. your office is soundproofed, no?” you straightened yourself, running a hand over the smooth, sensitive expanse of his back before returning to your firm grip on his bruised hips. he gave a shuddering sigh, trying to relax as you started to rock into him again with strong, steady thrusts. 

“it doesn’t matter,” he rasps, “we’re, hah, being too loud… sweetheart. s-sevika is right outside.” 

“don’t care,” you mutter. “i’m pent up. ‘least you can do is let me fuck you stupid. you’ll let me, right?” 

silco makes a noise at the back of his throat, half from displeasure, the other half from the sharp curl of arousal in his lower abdomen, making his cock twitch and leak. fuck if it didn’t turn him on when you talked to him like this. he settles for burying his face into his arms, preparing himself for whatever you were going to put him through. 

“be gentle,” he whispers, letting out a shuddering sigh. “i’m not so young anymore.” 

you could feel a grin pulling at the corners of your lips. yeah. sure, you were going to be gentle with him. with him looking like that. 

“hngh, r-right there…” silco mewls out, knees buckling repeatedly as he tries not to think about how loud he’s being. he supposes he could gag himself with something, your fingers, maybe, get them warm and wet for you while you use his face as leverage to fuck him harder, but he knows how much his noises spur you on, and right now he really doesn’t want to piss you off. not when you’re indulging him so well. “that’s it… you’re so good… darling.” 

“not so shy anymore?” you hummed, licking a hot stripe up his neck, his gasp twisting into a whine. “think we can make you louder?” 

“sweetheart,” he sighs as he feels your hand wrap around his throat, and he tilts his head back to let you grip it properly. “you already know what i want.” 

“well, i don’t think so.” you smile, leaning down to press your cheek against his, working away from behind with short, firm thrusts that steal his breath away. “remind me. did we use the magic word yet?” 

but just as he’s about to answer with snark, there’s the rap of fists against his office door, and silco feels his heart plummet. not now, when things were about to get good—this was the worst timing possible. “everything alright, boss?” 

“yes,” silco pants, “fuck… yes.” 

you can feel his nails dig into the back of your thigh, warning you not to pull out. you’re thick and heavy, resting against his stomach, and silco feels so fucking good and full. you can’t stop now. not until he’s had his fill. he can vaguely feel your warm seed trailing its way down his perineum in a slow trickle, and fuck, he wants more. wants to feel stuffed even without you inside him, drowsy and content. 

he blinks, brows furrowing as he catches himself fantasizing about you yet again. should he even be having thoughts like these in his forties? was this healthy? sex with you was life-changingly—and now apparently hormone-alteringly good. 

“sir?” sevika’s growl interrupts his train of thought. and yeah, not to mention—his second-in-command is right outside his office, while all he can think about is cock. shit. your big, leaky cock, buried to the hilt inside his hole. he wonders if it’ll be gaping once you’re done with him. and oh. cum. loads of your cum, filling up every inch of space inside him. making it hard to breathe. making him swel— “is someone in there with you?” 

“yes,” silco wheezes dumbly as you roll your hips against him with meaning, forcing him to take you deeper. he trembles, shifting back slightly to fuck himself on your cock, forcing a sharp inhale from you. “we are busy. you’re, oh… dismissed, sevika.” 

the silence is loud, save for the almost-silent squelches of your cock maneuvering inside him with all the cum stored in his belly. 

you can feel his heart pounding from the way your chest is pressed against his bare back. or maybe it’s your own. his walls squeeze around you, sinfully tight, pulling a muffled moan from where you have your teeth sunken into his shoulder. fuck. he’s—silco’s actually into this. you’d have never guessed he would be such a freak, for lack of a better word, but with how things were going . . . you didn’t mind it. not one bit. it drove you crazy with want, if anything. 

“... if you say so, boss.” the sound of retreating footsteps fills you with both relief and disappointment, but before you could even process what that means, you can feel silco gazing at you through his lashes, low and scrutinizing and something needy. 

“did i say you could stop?” silco grunts. “fuck me.” 

you let out a shaky sigh, hips already bucking back into the warm mould of your cock—and the next sound that drives past his lips is a loud and unabashed sob of your name. 

you think you might have unlocked something new in your lover.

VIKTOR

“it won’t fit,” viktor slurs, moans tumbling out of his mouth as he gives a shaky roll of his hips. he’s not quite there yet, with only the tip sucked in, but he’s making good progress. “i’m terribly s-sorry, dear. your… appendage. it’s too big.” 

his eyes flutter shut at the feeling of your hands forming a ring around his waist, strong and firm, a warm assurance that there was a possibility… although slight, that he’d make it. 

“it’ll fit,” you murmur, kissing the sensitive spot at the back of his ear, the one that makes him suck in a sharp breath and shudder. “you’re doing very good, love. just… a little more, yeah?” 

viktor looks down. it’s nowhere near a little more. you’re barely halfway in and he’s already thinking about quitting—has been, since the stupidly huge head of your cock breached his rim, making him feel a stretch that no amount of fingers or plastic toys could replicate. it was something extraordinary. overwhelmingly so. 

“please,” he mewls, forehead dropping to rest on your shoulder. “t-touch me? i think i’ll probably, hah, ease up a little if you would… oh, yes. thank you, dear. thank you.” 

it’s… in simple words, too much. you’re usually very considerate, taking your time with him with your fingers, rubbing on his tender walls until he loosens enough for you to slip another one in. the night would then end with you fucking his thighs, sticky and slick with his own cum. it’s good. it’s enough. that was until he started having thoughts of what it would feel like if you were inside him. 

but viktor would’ve never imagined it would be like this. the difference in size was just… comical. you were so deep inside him already, the impossible girth forming an obscene bulge over his abdomen, making him whine with the fullness. if this is already what it feels like to have you inside, then just what would it feel like to have you spill inside him?

he can’t lie—he’s spent nights waiting for you to fall asleep first so that he could scoop up some of the cum you had missed on the sheets, quietly fingering himself with the cold slickness. it didn’t feel right, even if it was yours. it just wasn’t the same. he wanted, no, needed to feel it for himself. 

it doesn’t help, the way you’re stroking him, ever so gentle with him. your huge palm covers his entire length without having to move much, huge thumb rubbing at his leaking tip, and viktor’s never been so hard before in his whole life. he’s so close already, hole fluttering around you uncontrollably, and it’s almost cute how it looks like it’s going to swallow you up. maybe it is. 

maybe it’ll fit. 

“last few inches,” you pant, fingers trembling slightly where you’re struggling not to press bruises into the cup of his hips. “can i-? please, vik. it’s so good. you’re so good. i just need a little more. please, baby.” 

“yes,” viktor blurts out, before he realises just what he agreed to—but within the next second he can feel something abnormally large pushing its way past his tight walls, faster and rougher than before, even as he tries to clench and hold still—it’s mean and a little too much, but then the back of his thighs meets hot skin and he nearly blacks out with the stretch of it all. 

“ngh,” viktor keens, trembling with exhaustion as he tries to settle into your lap comfortably with such a large intrusion within him. “soo full…” 

you sigh in pleasure, hands going back to his hips where they belong, pushing him down until you’re satisfied that he’s properly taken everything you’ve given him. it’s not a demand, viktor thinks, more like a comfort. telling him that you’ve always known he would’ve been able to take you in the first place. that this is where he belongs, filled to the brim with you and you only. 

he lets out a shuddering moan when you start to slowly bounce him on your lap, lifting him up with ease a good inch or two, before rolling your hips to meet his, pushing yourself deeper. “shit, vik…” you groan, and he cries out with every brush against his prostate, the sheer size of you making it impossible to miss it. “you’re so tight, baby… so perfect. i’m right here with you, okay? easy now, you’re doing so good.” 

you’re so good to him as always, whispering sweet nothings into his ear, but it’s different this time, and fuuck. viktor thinks he’s dying with how good it feels. he tries to steer his hips, to actually ride you instead of having you manhandling him up and down your cock, but there’s hardly any friction left now that he’s properly stretched, and any attempt results in him collapsing back to his knees, the pleasure making him weak. 

he settles for hanging onto you, arms wrapping around your neck and choking out little whimpers as you rock upwards into his waiting hole again and again, toes curling and nails scratching red trails down your back with the all-consuming pleasure.

it’s driving him crazy, the fullness, the simple thought of you pumping your seed and sperm into him, of making love with you. it’s nothing like the way it was written in the textbooks he had spent nights researching—it’s beyond anything he would have ever imagined. 

“please,” viktor sobs out, feeling strangely empty every time you pull out halfway, as ironic as it was—as though there was a chance you would leave him fully. the thought of it hurt. if only you could fit inside him forever. if only. “stay…” he cries, “cum inside. m-make me yours.” 

you lean forward, pressing your lips against his in a hurried kiss, at the same time grinding so deep viktor thinks, for a split of a second, that that might be you he’s feeling in his stomach. the broken wail he gives is loud and muffled, and you lap up the drool on the side of his face, watching as your lover’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling of being filled, properly this time, to the brink of spilling.

masterlist!

[karaeilishh]

𝜗𝜚 sorry? b. eilish . . .

a/n — you bitches wanted mad jealous dom billie so badly, here you go

cw — degradation, pathetic!reader, manipulative, jealous!billie

xmas fic n 2

maybe the christmas party was a really bad idea.

maybe your short red dress trimmed with fake white fur was a really, really bad idea.

maybe letting that girl buy you a drink was just a terrible idea.

“i-i’m so sorry, billie..” tears streaming down your cheeks, voice sounding so pathetic and desperate that her menacing expression is complemented by a chuckle. a loud intake of breath escapes plump lips before her piercing gaze burns a hole through your eyes. the pads of her fingers squeeze the sides of your neck painfully, nearly cutting off your airway. she can feel you pulsating beneath her grip.

“did i fucking tell you to apologize?” the wild glint in her eyes, the huskiness of her voice, so quiet yet terrifying, her entire existence made your legs buckle. you shake your head hysterically, unable to force the words out. the unknown is scary. "i said open up. wide"

you slowly open your mouth, the tip of your tongue resting on your bottom lip. her hand moves from your neck to grab your chin, almost breaking your jaw. her face is too close to yours, you can feel the hot breath passing through her clenched lips, the anger seeping from her entire being. "such a slut. mine"

it only takes a moment before you feel her warm, sticky spit on the back of your tongue, slowly dripping down your throat. your mouth is dry from the rapidity of your breathing.

"swallow, now" her tone is unwavering, terrifying, and you immediately comply, letting the liquid slide further down your gullet. she doesn't even call you a good girl like she usually does, her eyes are indifferent. just her fingers, parting your lips, pushing into your mouth. so deep that your gag reflexes work almost immediately. trying to lean further against the wall has no effect, billie just pushes her fingers further in, fucking your mouth. "suck"

lips wrap around three fingers, applying a little pressure as your tongue slides between them. her nails scratch the back of your neck, but it only adds more embers to the blazing fire between your legs.

as much as she loves the look of you like this, she gets bored quickly. her fingers leave your mouth with a dirty slurping sound, trailing a few strings of drool trailing from your lips. “you’ve upset me so much today.”

an apology threatens to fall from your lips, but you know that when she’s like this, you need to let her finish her monologue. iron rings burn against your heated skin as her fingers trace up your thighs. “i do everything for you, baby. and this is what i get in return? letting some slut buy you drinks.”

her tone of voice is sickeningly fake, making your stomach churn. billie was good at manipulating, making you feel so awful, just so she could fuck your brain mindlessly, turning your body and mind into a dumb mess. “it’s disrespectful, you know?”

more tears drip from your face onto your chest, leaving wet trails in their wake. "y—yes.." shame flooded your cheeks as you could barely see your girlfriend's face. she smiled softly for the first time, tilting her head to the side. "billie, i—i'm so sorry.."

"shh—shh—shh. my poor baby." her thumbs gently brushed the tears from your face as you shook under her touch. you both knew what a good attitude was the calm before the terrible storm. "you want to apologize to me properly, right?"

you nod.

"my sweet girl. only so obedient after she's been scolded."

tags - @chrissv4mp, @hkkuugu, @sweet3nerrr, @krosep, @stonerfromlesbos, @loveyoumatthewbernard, @47lake @ohdoyoustillcry, @bilsdillldough, @n0vabug, @bxllxeb, @hopingforgoodblogs, @mybluebossanova

[spiky-imp-teeth]

Sinsmas Live Reaction!

lol blitz is so proud of himself for catching that rat for his boyfriend

ohhhh the client's a homophobe 👀

ohhhh stolas 🥺🥺🥺

VIA SONG TIME?!?!?

i stg if people in the fandom start blaming via for being manipulated by her mother...

HAHAHAHAHA the karen is about to be smacked in the face with gay smut

blitz watching the christmas gays....my HEART

GET YOUR ICY HANDS OFF MY BOTTOM, BITCH!!!!!

SWORD TIME

KISSSSSSSSS

VIAAAAAA

via......🥺

i. swear. to. god. if. people. blame. via. for. being. manipulated. by. her. mother.

BLITZ CURLING UP IN STOLAS' LAP what if i DIED

god what is going on with millie 🥺

SALLIE MAE!!!! THE QUEEEEEN

OH. SHIT.

ok whew she's doing better after talking to her sister ❤️

whoa blitz bringing up barbie!!!

ugh i LOVE loona having all these hound friends now...i'm so proud of her

HUG?!?!???!?!!! oh my GOD

Good 👏 FUCKING 👏 Episode 👏👏👏

[backpackingspace]

sinmas thoughts

Okay so I literally just finished the episode an hour ago! And !! Omg

Okay first off deeply concerned about a few things

Like yes yay the elsa bitch guy getting beat up was great but like how fucking easy is it going to be for him to turn around and go hey these peasants attacked me in my own home and it's back to them about to be executed. Like there's no fucking way there isn't consequences for this

Did anybody else notice millie getting punched by elsa bitch really fucking hard right in her lower stomach. Because I sure did! What if she's not pregnant after that what if she comes to terms with being pregnant and starts to get excited only to find out her baby was murdered before it even had a chance.

There were...a lot of fucking pill bottles there. Were they empty or did stolas just mass order his fucking pills. I am worried that via will start to take them. After all she's alone in a traumatic household with her world burning down around her

Speaking of via her powers!! Coming in! And them being sporadic as fuck and tied to her emotions? Can't wait for her to literally blow everybody up that'll be a fun time.

Still on via, bot really a concern just something I'm thinking about. The way via knew immediately not to argue with her mother, or even attempt to get her phone back or get an extra one or anything at all is very telling. The way she knew to just immediately put her headphones in and keep her head down and to go hide in her room. The way she went even further to hide in her closet before starting to sing? (How many times do we think she heard her mom berate her dad for singing) i think via knows her dad was being abused but hasn't yet fully realized what that means and is (understandablely) having a lot of feelings in every single direction.

Luna seems so much more happier and relaxed! She has friends now! She's laughing and smiling and not wearing exclusively dark clothes! She's openly calling blizo dad with out the grumbling! She just seems a lot more settled and happy now and honestly good for her!!

Idk why but I was not expecting stolas to sound like that. Just the way he said pussy caught me off guard for some reason. There were a couple other times where that happened but I don't really feel like listening them all out. Also. Fucking weird to be seeing stolas's pupils now.

Also!!! Stolas's face as m&m tore into each other. Wow. You know he was freaking the fuck out there and reliving some shit.

Speaking of background faces; the imp servants at the palace. Yah they all looked miserable and terrified. Not surprised but still yikes! With stolas they were always very much done with his shit , tired, and resigned but none of them seemed really terrified/upset like they do now.

Love that we don't really get overly nice manipulation Stella on via. Like she didn't even pretend to give a shit about her for more than that one second did she.

Blitzo calling stolas his bottom instead of just... literally anything else. Like he literally did not have to do that. But also confirmed stolitz dom/sub contract? 👀 or is this blitzo being himself and I'm reading too much into it.

All of us secretary! Stolas secretary! Stolas only for it to turn out that he hates it so fucking much ("I'm poor now! Melts into a puddle oh man. )

[zer0-devoox]

Serial designation V psychological analysis

Let’s start with this.

From the pilot, the first and clearest introduction we have of V is as a cold-blooded killer, which leads us to draw several conclusions:

• she DON'T feel guilt or other emotions for being practically a psychopath, right?

• Pretending (and perhaps overacting) not to know N.

• She’s sexy—wait, what?

If there’s one thing I can say with my eyes closed, it’s that V’s personality throughout the series (at least until episode six) is a defense mechanism. Having suffered firsthand the atrocities of AS, V had to find a way to stay sane and assured herself that it didn’t hurt to make N suffer, that it didn’t hurt to be a complete bitch to the people around her, and that it didn’t hurt to kill people.

(That last one is a given; what did you expect? You can’t ask for moral consequences for murder; we’re in Murder Drones.)

A haughty, playful personality that is, to some extent, easy to anger. I don’t deny that many of these traits may have developed over time, but most are tropes that hide what’s really inside—a traumatized girl who lost everything and was turned into a killing machine.

(Some might say that I justify V’s actions when it comes to killing, and yes, I do; number 1, we’re in MD, and number 2, she’s my favorite character. What did you expect?)

To some extent, her diva complex hides insecurities (???)

The point is that this girl hardened herself, sharpened her teeth and claws, and did what she had to do to survive—from killing random workers, beheading N in cold blood, to manipulating a teenager and pretending to be her best friend to kill everyone (can we talk about how in "The Promening," V tried to negotiate with N and keep Uzi alive?)

A little extra note: rewatching the series for this summary, I can notice that V still retains some behaviors from her previous self, like when she blows bubbles or when at the end of "Cabin Fever," she smiles upon seeing Uzi with N.

In a way, I can assure you that V is simply TERRIFIED—terrified of herself, terrified of what they are now, and of Uzi, of Cyn.

Disorders:

Perhaps (with the risk of being wrong) Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder.

We have several clues about this, like when in "Cabin Fever," she calls Uzi "Cyn."

That’s a detail we’ll discuss later.

Besides that, she’s always on alert and has her claws ready for any danger that may arise (another symptom of PTSD), and her aversion towards Uzi because when she sees her, she doesn’t see Uzi.

She sees Cyn...

People who ship VxN (sorry, I’m not a fan of the ship, but I don’t judge; I’ll try to give my opinion without it sounding like a criticism) always argue that V feels jealous of Uzi. But you know? I... don’t see it that way, at least not completely. I think V does feel jealousy, but more than romantic jealousy, it’s more of a necessary attachment feeling. Let me explain:

Let’s remember that J is dead, so if we add 2 + 2, we can understand what’s happening here: V is ALONE and the only "functional" support network she has left is N and only him.

And also when she tries to keep Uzi away from N because deep down, her clearest thought was that they were going to end up hurting each other, or Uzi would hurt N and the guilt could lead her to suicide, or N would have to kill Uzi if Cyn took over her body.

This is why she clings to him with teeth and claws, and this gradually gets better as the series progresses. Evidence of this is in episode 6 when she sees N holding hands with Uzi and her only reaction is "agh" (How I love episode six!!!)

I’ve already talked more in-depth about the climax of episode six, which is a key moment for the character; if you want to go see it, I’ll leave it at the end of this post.

My theory of post-traumatic stress increases with chapter 8 when we see the true V for the first time—someone damaged, scared of all the damn traumas she carries, who has had to endure practically alone all the atrocities that Cyn committed at her expense, and above all, that what she did, she did for N (I have some issues with this chapter, but let’s ignore that for now).

This is where I cry because we realize that V had hope that—after doing her job, Cyn would leave them alone—she had faith of being free, and it could not bring me more satisfaction to know that (unlike J) she could find her freedom by ending what bound her, accepting her traumas, and fighting against them (literally), and finally finding a new life with the other two idiots.

The only people who, despite what she has done and her flaws, accepted and loved her.

To wrap up, I want to clarify something:

V IS somewhat psychopathic.

V DOES kill in cold blood.

V IS a diva.

But V is not just that; she is a complex character with layers and nuances and a girl who has suffered the atrocities of a pompous being who treats them as toys. I don’t expect to encompass all the psychology of the character in this summary (because I’m not a psychologist), but I hope I’ve done some justice for my favorite character UwU.

[Conclusion]

The truth is that I’m a bit saddened by V’s development. It’s not bad development by any means, but the potential she had was somewhat cut short due to the limited screen time. Although honestly, Liam is a fucking genius who managed to package such a beautiful series into eight episodes.

Thank you, Murder Drones; thank you for informing me, for allowing me to draw my lesbian ships, for making me laugh so many times and bringing me to tears so easily, thank you for the two years I spent alternating between making theories at three in the morning and waiting for the episodes, having to save money just to be able to download the episodes and download all the possible fanarts on Pinterest. Thank you so much, Murder Drones, for marking my life and... if possible, one day, to do you justice.

🧡

[panthera-tigris-venenata]

Ginny Gothel prompt: “I have such soft hair and nobody is playing with it!”

Obviously involving disaster threesome.

@humaforever I’m tagging you here since you asked for similar prompt, hopefuly you don’t mind.

Anyway. Ginny Gothel. If you were wondering what’s wrong with her, she’s massively iron deficient, through definitely absolutely NO fault of her mother’s. (She’s probably also high, but psst.) (She’s not okay.)

I didn’t mange to write Harriet into the actual plot, she’s only mentioned, but this is very much disaster threesome story. Just saying.

I hope you enjoy!

„My hair is so soft,“ Ginny sighs, pulling at one of her curls and then letting it spring loose. And again, and again. It’s pretty.

„Mmhm,“ mutters Mad Maddy in obvious disinterest. If she didn’t run her „Apothecary“ as she did, Ginny might have considered poisoning her. …Then again, it might not have been effective anyway. (Don’t ask, you’re better off not knowing.)

„My hair is so soft,“ Ginny repeats, lifting her head to look at Maddy, who is still sitting opposite her, which is neat.

„And?“ Maddy finally answers.

„And?!“ Ginny squeals in exasperation and sits up fully, which has the unfortunate effect of making the world spin in front of her eyes. „My hair is so amazingly soft, Maddy, and no one is playing with it!“

„Well, that just sounds like a you problem,“ Maddy says. To make the matters worse, she is playing with one of her broken dolls, running her nails through its tangled hair. Which is very mean of her, and Ginny tells her so. But Maddy only preens in response.

Yeah, Ginny was going for that, totally. After all, Maddy is her dealer.

So Ginny bites her lip and continues playing with her hair herself, which is extremely unfair and heartbreaking, really. She sighs audibly every few moments, hoping to get a more sympathetic reaction out of the other girl.

„For fucks sake, Gin!“ Maddy finally snaps, „Go annoy someone else! Harriet or Anthony! You’re being a horny bitch in my Apothecary, and you know the rules!“

„The rules are “No kissing in the Apothecary”!“ Protests Ginny.

„The rules are “No kissing or fucking in the Apothecary, and also no traitorous purple headed fae”, and they’re being updated!“ snarks Maddy back, „Besides, Junior and Trois said they’d be coming in the evening, and I don’t need you scaring off customers!“

It is dim already, but it is dim always. Anyone’s guess when „evening“ is. Or when the Gaston twins think it is.

Ginny makes a face: „And what are the rules being updated to?“

„No being a whiny horny bitch,“ concludes Maddy triumphantly, and raises her doll to the face level. Ginny makes a face at the doll too–

„Out!“ commands Maddy, pointing at the door with her free hand.

Ginny stands up abruptly, and fuck, the world whites out for a moment. She hisses through her teeth, and knows that Maddy doesn’t even look at her; her hand shots out against the wall, to steady her, and her nails leave incisions in it.

Neat.

„Fine,“ she says as she rakes her nails along the wall for greater effect, „I didn’t wanna stay here anyway.“

As she leaves, she almost runs into the Gaston twins by the door – they only just step away from her way, which is good, because otherwise she’d fall and she might not want to get up again.

She steps into frigid Isle air and behind her, Maddy yells at the twins: „Well what are you waiting for? One of you go with her! If something happens to her, Harriet will throw a temper tantrum and it’ll be my problem!“

Needless to say, Maddy does not wish to deal with angry Harriet Hook. Unfortunately, Ginny – if she says so herself – doesn’t need a bloody bodyguard.

She whirls around as fast as she dares and tells Trois so, with her dagger pointed vaguely in the direction of his neck. As if that would do any good – she aims the dagger to a significantly lower place. Trois pales a bit.

He doesn’t tell her to relax or calm down, which earns him a small insignificant plus.

Ginny narrows her eyes at him anyway.

A broken doll flies through the still open door and whacks Trois in the back of the head: he drops her voice to barely more than whisper: „I’ll go behind you. Respectful distance. You won’t even know I’m here.“

Silence. Her knife doesn’t move.

„Come on, Gin, we both know the next thing she’s throwing at me is gonna explode–“

Yes, and it would likely ruin both her clothes and her hair, which would be absolutely unforgivable – And she simply isn’t talking with Maddy anymore, thank you for asking. So without another word, Ginny turns back around and marches straight ahead; her head protests the sudden movement, but hey. That’s fine. She’s not smelling ozone yet, not really, and as long as she’s not fainting, she’s good to go.

She takes a moment of her precious time to curse her mother and her dubious rituals – Auradon and it’s fucking Barrier.

Trois stays in respectful distance, as he promised, but Ginny can hear him behind her all the same. She ignores him. She doesn’t bother hiding her dagger.

It doesn’t take her long to cross the Isle to Anthony’s saloon, not with that look in her eyes and Gaston’s son at her back. Just the last corner – she exhales loudly and waves Trois away. He can only now leave without Maddy yelling at him (His fault for being a horrible liar, really.)

However, Ginny finds she’s hard pressed to care.

Instead, she checks her reflection in the dark window: A cape of the colour of fine dark wine, and the lipstick to match, smudged just enough to drive Anthony crazy. A dagger in her hand – she should probably hide it now. (So the knife disappears, though not before she checks her reflection in it too.) (Her eyes are open wide.) She pulls at her hair and watches as her reflection’s curls spring back into place.

She is jealous of her reflection.

With a resolute shake of her head, (her hair bouncing all around), she stops looking at herself and walks into the saloon. „Anthony!“ she exclaims over the awful wind-chimes that Dizzy loves and that give her an instant headache.

To her eternal annoyance, no one comes.

„Anthony–“ the doors click shut behind her and she allows the slightest hint of whine to slip into her voice.

Finally, footsteps – though far too light and perky to be his. Ginny grimaces and pulls at her hair.

She doesn’t bother hiding the grimace as Dizzy Tremaine rounds the corner, only narrowing her eyes at the younger girl. Which effectively freezes her mid-greeting, which is good, since she’s always so annoyingly cheerful and the world is so rude and unjust.

Dizzy’s accessories are sparkling in the lacklustre light of the saloon and it’s giving Ginny headache, too. She closes her eyes for just a second, just to stop looking at little Dizzy’s honestly offensive jewellery.

„Holly evil–“ When Ginny opens her eyes again, little Dizzy is standing right next to her, her hand hovering over her elbow. „Come sit down,“ Dizzy says as she guides her to the worn out sofa.

„I wish to speak with Anthony–“ protests Ginny quite fruitlessly, as the little Tremaine has disappeared already. Finding little usefulness in going to look for her, Ginny sinks into the once–decadent pillows – It’s Tremaine’s saloon, isn’t it? Anthony will come to check sooner or later. She is tired.

Dizzy reappears, holding out a glass of clear liquid for her to take: Water. Probably. Possibly. Poison. Bleach. Ginny reaches for the glass and brings it to her lips, almost, almost – She tips the whole glass down, lets the liquid pour down and the glass clutter uselessly on the floor. It doesn’t break. She stares at Dizzy; Dizzy stares back, for barely a heartbeat. Then she sighs, bends down to pick up the glass, and says: „Alright. I’ll go get Anthony for you.“

As she bounces away, Ginny pulls at her curls. „You’d be such a dear for that,“ she manages to say as the little Tremaine bounces away, just the right level of saccharin in her voice.

If she’d care to listen, she might have heard the Tremaine cousins talking and giggling upstairs, Anthony disciplining them. His steps as he walks downstairs. No annoying chimes this time.

„Ginny?“ She looks up at him, and abruptly stands up. Her world goes white again, and she tastes metal for just a heartbeat, „Sunflower, what’s wrong?“ In another heartbeat, he’s hugging her tight, which is probably a good thing. For closely unspecified reasons. She clings to his shoulders, tightly enough for her nails to hurt him even through all the layers he is wearing, and breathes in through clenched teeth. Then again. And again. If she’d have to guess, she’d say that the world has returned to its miserable true colours by now, but, you see, checking would require her to lift her head from his shoulder. Which would be a shame.

She breathes in again and loosens her grip on him. „What’s wrong?“ he asks again, as if the answer wasn’t „Every-fucking-thing,“ or, alternatively, „Existence.“

Instead, she leans away a bit, his hands moving to her hips, and slowly answers: „I have such soft hair, Anthony–“

He smiles: „I know. I did your hair just this morning, remember?“ As if that was relevant just now.

She swats at his shoulder lightly – don’t interrupt me! He presses his lips together in an exasperated expression, holding it only long enough for her to notice. Which is, of course, why she pretends she didn’t see.

„As I was saying,“ she starts again, „I have such soft hair,“ („Thanks to me.“), „And no one is playing with it!“

„Oh?“ he flashes a half-smirk at her and runs his fingers along her scalp, „That better, then?“

„Much.“

Ginny would be content to stay like this for quite a long time, so she’s understandably quite annoyed when she realises Anthony doesn’t agree. Selfish traitor.

„Ginny, what did you do the whole day?“ he asks, as if it was any of his concern.

„Visited mother. Then Maddy,“ she answers anyway, because he is playing with her hair and because it is nice. She hides her face in his neck again.

He mutters something like „I’m gonna kill both of them,“ but his fingers are still in her hair, so it takes her a moment to react. „You leave Maddy alone–“

„Perfect,“ he says with a teasing smirk, „I’m gonna tell Harriet we’re free to take a go at your lovely mother.“

„No!“

„Why not, though?“

Well, for starters… Ginny presses closer to him and says: „If you’d both go track my mother down, I’d have no one to play with my hair. Again.“ She keeps the absolutely genuine betrayal and hurt and accusation clear in her voice.

He tugs at her hair: „And we can’t have that.“

„Exactly.“

Now he’s getting it.

Though, one must say, Harriet sure looks hot when on the warpath.

It’s quiet for a while, save for some giggling girls that are quickly glared away.

„You feeling better now, Sunflower?“ he asks finally, „I’ve got work to do, you know?“

Ginny leans away and summons tears to her eyes: „Ditch,“ she breathes out.

„I can’t–“

„Fuck your grandmother. Ditch,“ she looks up at him, leaning closer, and his grip in her hair tightens, „I want to see Harriet.“

He swallows heavily, eyes at her lips and the smudged lipstick, which is probably printed into his shirt too, now, and moves his hand to her cheek. „Okay,“ he says, „Let’s go find Harriet.“

[pepperpixel]

SAID HE LIKES CRAZY GIRLS,

BUT HE HATES WHEN I ACT CRAZY,

IT TAKES TWO TO TOXIC!

FINALLY!!! Finished these pics of jinx I’ve been working on!!!!! HOLY SHIT, these took so long…. But finally… they’re done… pls enjoy this art of my beautiful princess w a disorder. Featuring alternate colors for the big pic and also a closeup! Cuz I rlly like how both the lines and coloring on her face turned out… like the pink gradients w her eye… her deer in headlights expression,, like uve just startled a raccoon digging thru ur trashcan and r two seconds away from getting mauled.. m proud of it!

[pinacoladamatata]

i just think

[felixcosm]

Let's not treat Emily like she is somehow a threat to David/Matt, please. She is a very well written, complicated and interesting character who deserves to be acknowledged more than just "threatening a yaoi ship".

She is going through a lot and she does not deserve to be hated on just because she's not playing the demure, meek girl who lets people step on her. She's been manipulated, betrayed and dragged through Hell, her flipping her shit is completely understandable.

And she does not deserve to be treated badly when fucking Matt Grotto betrayed, lied to, neglected and STABBED the guy he was in love with without much (if any) fandom backlash.

Emily deserves so much better treatment and I hope that people come to see her as the wonderfully intricate character she is, instead of just a side character to the "Matt and David Love Story"

[madscientistenthusiast]

Defo working on that horrid little advisor Azula AU fic, but I'm also trying to figure out how I want to characterize her, bc I haven't read the comics, but I've also heard that her portrayal in the comics isn't the best so idk, so like if anyone can give me a rundown of her portrayal in the comics it'd be alot of help

[agabus]

something is wrong with me i am so excited to see bowser completely destroyed with heartbreak when boo dies. i am so excited i hope he's a fucking MESS i hope it's dramatic as fuck i hope he decides at the very last second that he can't do it he can't possibly do it he can't go through with it he thought this is what he wanted but he loves his brother, he can't kill his brother. but it's too late, and peach kills him, and boo dies thinking he is completely unloved, even by the one person who always loved him whether or not he deserved it. and bowser goes INSANE.

[asklesbianonceler]

I have not posted any of my analysis to reddit yet and I think I might just post it and ghost it. I've already spent too much time looking at other people's threads on there to feel any way good about interacting with folks.

I already went in an added the "I know you're going to bring this up let me save you the time" section which is exclusively touching on the frequent topics of:

"well what about the fingerprint nostrum and finger mimics? He is clearly just a crackpot"

And

"it's definitely some weird elaborate sacrifice to Metyr thing"

[desnaa]

thinking about catradora and catra and how much i dislike both and it still makes me a bit crazy that so many lgbtq+/queer people love it despite how clearly toxic and abusive it is. do people just like them so much because they're gay/two women?? because i feel if catra was a man things would be so much different, and feel that we have more than enough to choose from so that we don't need to gravitate towards liking this relationship/this character but yet....

[pinkmirth]

i will forever be in awe about how reiner could have two fugly, hateful bitch-ass parents and still turn out so gorgeous . . . karina ate that one thing!

[justiceforjumin]

Anyways this is a random PSA to say that I hate Rika and there's nothing she can do to redeem herself in my eyes

[slashersweethearts]

every time i ponder the meliwes orb i get a little emo out of guilt. i am so sorry white boy wes n i say this as melina’s #1 defender she did NOT deserve that boy 😭