#And most importantly he's fucking 16.

[grox-empire]

Pro tip for people don't randomly go around making sexual remarks about people's ocs. Especially when you know nothing about the character in question. ESPECIALLY when it's someone you don't know / aren't friends with.

I have had this happen to me SO MANY TIMES and it is always, Without fail, HIGHLY UNCOMFORTABLE!

[silassinclair]

Yandere Wild West Outlaw x Reader

CW// Possession, Obsession, Yandere Behavior, Jealousy, Suggestive Content, Gaslighting, Maddox has a housewife fetish (16+)

Masterlist

When Maddox first saw you hiding in your wardrobe after having killed your Father he was shocked to see such a pretty woman inside. He knew your Father had a daughter but he didn't know she'd be a fierce and beautiful young woman.

Maddox knew he had to have you. No way was he going to leave you in this bumfuck town in the middle of no where. You're too valuable.

He ties you up and takes you away from your hometown. You're his now so he's taking you with him wherever he goes. Having a pretty little accessory like you will give him bragging rights after all.

He takes you to saloons while he plays cards with his buddies. Has you sit still and look pretty on his lap while he drinks and plays. His friends say dirty things about you. Commenting on how submissive you are for Maddox. Maddox eats their comments up like a full course meal.

"You boys wish you had this fine piece of ass. But she's mine."

When you're at his temporary house he has you play housewife. You cook his food, clean his laundry, and most importantly you take him like a good girl and let him use you to pleasure himself.

"You like that yeah? You don't? Then shut your pretty little mouth n' take it anyway. Don't make me mad now."

But over the course of a few months and after spending more time with you he sees you less as an object to brag about and more as a companion. He sees you everyday so of course he develops feelings. Feelings he denies of course.

"You think cus' I'm being nice lately you can just skip doin' laundry? Well you've been a good girl this week so I'll let it slide... But you're doin' it tomorrow! No excuses!"

Maddox takes you to the saloon with him again as usual. This time the sexual comments his friends say make him see red. He draws his gun and shoots them all dead where they sit.

"I should have never let em' say that vulgar shit bout' you. Shoulda never let you in that shithole in the first fuckin' place. C'mon, we're goin' home."

Fucks you gently this time and prioritizes your pleasure over his. You're so cute mewling beneath him. Praises you instead of degrades you.

"You can take it princess, c'mon! Don't tell me to slowdown when I can feel how good you feel on me. Yeah that’s it, good girl. Doin’ so good for me… Ya’ feel divine~"

He slowly starts bringing you into town less often. When you ask why you can't come with him he simply says that you're safer at home.

A month goes by and you're tired of being holed up in his house. So you take the risk and leave while he's taking his afternoon nap.

Bad Choice….

"You thought you could leave me?! Baby I love ya', I really do but sometimes you're real fuckin' stupid."

Locks the doors, windows, and always has his eye on you. When he has to go out he keeps you tied to the bed by the ankle.

Every night he holds you close to him. He's a light sleeper, he'll feel if you move and try to escape him. If that happens he'll embrace you in a nearly bone crushing hug.

He’ll wrestle with you if you try and fight him, but he’ll never strike you. He’d never do that after seeing the abuse his Mother endured from her customers at the brothel.

Comes home one day with two golden rings. He wears one and forces the other onto your ring finger. It's a perfect fit.

"You're my wife now and I'm your husband. You'll address me as such, got it?"

No wedding, no priest, no judge, no documentation. He says you're his wife now and that's that.

"There's names engraved inside the rings.? That's just the name of the jeweler I got it from... Don't worry your pretty little head about it."

You two never get to settle down. You hop from one abandoned home to the other. After all he needs to always be on the run from the law. It's a stressful but exhilarating lifestyle. Danger lurks at every corner.

Loves calling you by his last name. Though your last name is still legally L/n; Maddox says that since you’re his wife you have his last name. After all you two are wearing the rings to prove it!

"Thank you for the meal Mrs. Graves, God you're perfect. Where have you been all my life?"

He adores your body. Doesn't matter what body type you have. Chub? He's kneading it with his hands while he praises you like the goddess you are. Insecure about how the outline of your ribcage is visible? He traces his fingers down to your tummy and then goes even lower... He can't keep his hands off.

Favorite thing to do is hug you from behind and just press your backside against him while you do chores. It feels so domestic and it makes him feel like he isn’t a wanted criminal for a moment.

Kisses? He loves to kiss you! His favorite spots are your ankles, tummy, and forehead. And your lips ofc!

Whenever you have to slip your stockings on he swats your hands away and does it. He’ll pull them up sensually and slowly, trailing kisses from your ankle up to your thigh as he does so.

“Your skin’s so soft princess, just wanna take a bite. You’ll let me right?”

He loves animals. His horse Jasper is his best friend. Jasper won't let anyone ride him except for you and Maddox. Anyone else gets thrown off and stomped on.

Since this is the 1800’s people don’t really bathe as often. But Maddox is different. He can’t stand having grime on him for too long after you called him stinky once. So now he bathes more often than most. And you bathe with him too. You have no choice in the matter.

“Mmm love it when you wash my hair sweetheart… Ya’ fingers feel like heaven..”

Maddox is a tough guy. He's taken bullets, stabs, you name it. He even survived a hanging once. If anything happens to you he'll fight God himself just to keep you safe. Even if it costs him his life.

"GET YA' MEATHOOKS OFF MY WIFE YOU FUCKIN' ANIMALS!"

Tells you he loves you everyday. And if you don't say it back? Well he'll just bug you until you say it. After your "marriage" he doesn't really punish you anymore. You’re his partner for life, you deserve the world.

Respects women. His Mother worked in a brothel so he witnessed how men mistreated women. He could never do that to you... Even though he did early in your relationship. But he'll never admit that! Bring it up and he'll call you crazy.

"Sweetheart I never harmed a hair on your head, quit talkin' nonsense."

Teaches you how to fire a gun just in case. Hopefully you'll never have to use the skill though.

Spoils you whenever he can. Maddox has a decent amount of money but it's still pretty tight. Buying you things isn't an option because being on the run means you need to have minimal baggage. So he treats you to dinners and cute little dates.

Overtime you get used to this life. You forget he ever even killed your old man.

Anyone is free to request anything! Don't be shy! I'm hyperfixiating on this oc so I'll happily write anything for him. As long as it isn't blatant NSFW :-)

[evolnoomym]

I’ll Make You Love Me💋

Bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader

Main Masterlist | Joel Miller Masterlist

Summary: In Joel’s eyes you are an unpleasant person. Yet he has to pretend as if he would not want to get rid of you for Sarah’s sake, she loves you so much you are her best friend. Well Joel also feels terrible for the rather unethical thoughts he has of you.

Rating: 18+ mature content mdni !!!!!

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: no y/n, introducing “Lucky”, female oc character, Sarah is 18, Lucky is 21, Joel’s age is not mentioned but he’s at least double Lucky’s age, degradation, humiliation, Dark, Joel is mean, he calls you Bitch/Slut/Junkie, spanking, dub-con, Daddy Kink, Manspreading hehe 😉, pervy!Joel, tears, Joel enjoys her tears, manhandling, hair pulling, weed consumption, alcohol consumption, a tiny fluffy moment, alludes to BJ, Joel can also be nice,

If I missed anything please let me know 🙏🏻

Authors note: this is for @toxicanonymity ‘s manspreading olympics. ❤️‍🔥

Shoutout to @cafekitsune and @saradika-graphics for the dividers ❤️

Big thank you to @jennaispunk and @joelmillerisapunk for beta reading ❤️‍🔥🌙

Disclaimer: English is not my first language so if you come across mistakes it might be due to that. I’m totally here for constructive criticism or feedback on how to improve. In general I appreciate comments, likes and reblogs greatly 💋

Songs I listened to while writing:

What You Do by James Gillespie

Bad Girls by M.I.A

Maneater by Nelly Furtado

Salvatore by Lana Del Rey

Sad Girl by Lana Del Rey

Waiting Game by BANKS

Into It by Chase Atlantic

You should feel bad for thinking of him in such a peculiar way. You should be ashamed for even considering him an option. He is totally off limits considering he’s much older, a busy mature man and most importantly Sarah’s Dad. Sarah the sweet girl that has been your Bestfriend for over 2 years.

It excited you in the beginning how much Joel hated your presence in his daughter’s life. He didn’t approve of this friendship ever since Sarah at 16 years old first brought you, her 19 year old friend, over for the first time.

In front of Sarah he tried his hardest to appear polite but you could see right through his facade from the beginning. And one evening when Sarah was already fast asleep you gave Joel a piece of your mind in the kitchen.

“Mister Miller let’s stop these silly games we both know what’s going on…you don’t like me and I couldn’t fucking care less.” You scoff and get off the counter, slowly drawing closer to Joel “You hate me so much but Sarah loves me soooooo much and imagine how upset she’d be to know that her Daddy doesn’t want her to be happy. Wouldn’t that be a shame,huh?” You question with an enticing head tilt.

Now you’re right in front of him, toe to toe with big bad imposing Joel Miller. You can feel the pulling in your lower belly from being so close and most importantly smelling his manly musky scent. You remind yourself that you gotta stay focused if you want to win this game.

You get even closer until your able to place your hands on his warm broad chest sliding them slightly upwards his shoulders. “What the hell r ya doin?” Joel hisses.

You lean up to whisper in his ear “Nothing, just letting you know that I eat guys like you for breakfast, I chew you up and spit you out. You’re not a threat to me, old man.” You pull back and give him a sinister sickly smile.

The wickedness in your tone causes goosebumps to prickle on his flesh.

You feed off of seeing him scared. You enjoy knowing what kinda effect you have on this usually so collected man.

“Goodnight Mister Miller, better start sleeping with one eye open from now on.” You giggle while skipping up the stairs.

That was the start of it all.

Now 2 years later with Sarah just having turned 18, Joel realizes that you two are gonna keep him on his toes even more than already.

The 18th birthday celebration was already a disaster, what Joel assumed would be a relaxed family gathering turned into you crashing the party and taking Sarah out, of course Sarah was excited so how could Joel say no.

Well when you two didn’t return at 12 pm like promised he admittedly got worried, but he wanted to trust Sarah so he tried to stay calm.

At 3 am he hears the screeching tires from some show off guys car and loud drunkish giggling. The princesses have officially arrived back home from their trip, almost 4 hours too late.

When Joel opens the front door he sees you and Sarah practically half draped over your shoulder stubbling up the starirs in sloppy drunk steps. You two are giggling and mumbling at each other in a language Joel does not understand, it certainly can’t be English.

You immediately glock his disgruntled face, the alcohol cursing through your system emboldens you so you haphazardly shove him out of the way. You sigh loudly and obviously annoyed at his antics all while herding Sarah up the stairs.

Joel cannot believe that after dragging Sarah off, taking her to god knows where, letting her drink and god forbid smoke… you still have the audacity to behave so entitled.

You put Sarah in danger and don’t feel an ounce of remorse. Joel hates your guts, in his eyes you are an entitled little brat that desperately needs to be put in her place.

Even though Joel hates you, he at the same time cannot keep his head clear of dirty images of your young and tight body. He thinks about the pool day where you showed up in the tiniest bikini he could think of.

Prancing around all while he had to resist the urge to just tear it off. You knew he was looking and he knew that you enjoyed his eyes flitting all over your enticing figure.

The both of you were tethering on a dangerous line, that could cause big trouble. How would Sarah feel knowing this is happening behind her back.

You constantly antagonize him like that wearing short skirts and tight shirts with no bra because apparently it’s too warm for that. Running into him, pressing your perky tits against his bicep in passing, coincidentally bending over in front of him. Joel was quickly approaching a breaking point, his resolve crumbling more and more with each time that he had to tug at his throbbing length all while thinking about you.

Joel clearly underestimated how much you’d play him and how much better at it you are. At this rate you’ll win this game. He however has a plan, that might even after everything still save him the success.

Joel only has to wait for the right time to attack, catch you off guard and use that to his advantage.

He gets pulled from his thoughts when he hears something that confuses him, you are singing and it sounds beautiful.

Joel creeps up the stairs as quietly as possible to not alert either of you.

The closer he gets to Sarah's door the clearer it becomes. Joel pushes the bedroom door open by only a few inches to get a look at the situation and it makes his heart roar. You sit on the side of the bed we’re Sarah is nicely tucked in, your body facing Joel but your eyes locked on Sarah’s face. Softly singing a lullaby in a language foreign to him while gently stroking over her cheeks, smoothing the hair out of her face, almost like a mother would with her baby. Something Sarah never got to experience in childhood since her mother left so early on.

Joel realizes that despite the rough exterior you put up there’s more to you than just a cold hearted homewrecker, you care for Sarah, you take care of her and watch over her wherever you two run off to. Joel feels gratitude for someone he admittedly doesn’t know a whole lot about.

Joel has seen enough and retreats back downstairs.

When you stumble into the living room to bid your goodbyes Joel looks like he’s deep in thoughts.

So you announce “Sarah is sleeping, make sure she drinks lotssssssss of water when she wakes up and takes more aspirin if needed. I’m out.”

You turn to walk off when Joel gets up “Hey ya sure bout walkin home now? I can drive ya.” He offers but you decline “Nah it’s alright Mr. Miller I can protect myself, I’ve always done it. Besides, why do you suddenly care,huh?“ you sarcastically laugh while slipping out of the house.

When you’ve turned away from him the snarky smile falls right off your face.

Joel actually felt somewhat sorry that night for the way he treated you all those times before.

That lasted until you decided to smoke weed with Sarah in his lil work shed that was situated in the back of his garden.

Joel would’ve realized either way if not by the smells wafting up his nostrils the moment he entered the shed later in the evening, then surely by Sarah’s unstoppable giggling, her slow mumbled speech or by the food flash she got.

When the two of you begged him to let you sleep over he eagerly agreed. Chalk it up to the weed that numbs your brain that this quick reaction didn’t seem suspicious.

Joel knows you will find him, you’ll see the open back door and walk right into his trap. You never sleep the night through when you spend it over at the Millers, he can hear you getting up and wandering around the house. Sarah on the other hand has got to be blessed with an extremely deep sleep.

The thought of overpowering you makes him smile giddily into the darkness of the shed.

As usual you wake up in the middle of the night, ever since being a little child the sleeping became a struggle and nothing works except tiring yourself out.

You get up out of Sarah’s huge plush bed, slip out into the hallway and down the stairs. There you immediately catch the wide open back door leading to the garden. Odd, Mister Miller would never in a million years leave that open.

You walk up to the sliding doors and when you stand in the threshold staring into the dark backyard you see that the shed is left open too.

Out of stupid curiosity you decide to investigate, not the smartest to perhaps walk right into a burglar who has a weapon but you don’t really care.

So you pat the way across the cold grass, it tickles the sole of your bare feet and the fresh midnight breeze actually feels awfully pleasant on your heated skin. Halfway you stop and glance upward at the beautiful full moon shining down on you.

After taking a deep breath you continue onward towards the shed.

When you reach the opening of the shed there’s really nothing you can see or hear. So you step further into it, carefully putting one foot in front of the other.

You feel like someone is watching you but you are unable to pinpoint where it’s coming from. It’s unsettling so you do something considerably stupid “Hello, hello is there anyone? Mister Miller are you in here?” You call out with a shaking voice.

No response.

A light flickering in the center of the room catches you off guard and now you can see him, the one that watched you.

Mr.Miller is sitting on a bar chair behind him is his working table, he leans his back against the edge of the table.

Your eyes immediately go to his slightly sweaty face -the Texas heat is unrelenting even in the middle of the night- he looks gorgeous illuminated by the tiny lamp glowing behind his shoulder on the cupboard. He’s smirking sinisterly at you.

You let your eyes wander over his broad shoulders that are clad in a green flannel. Inevitably your eyes slip down to his wide spread jeans covered thighs, they look so big and muscular.

He catches your staring and drops a hand on his thigh that slowly starts stroking up and down. Making you gulp audibly.

“M..M-..Mister M..Miller what are you doing here?” You stammer out.

“I was waitin for ya to come find me.” He huffs gruffly.

He continues “Close the door behind ya Lucky.”

You feel somewhat hypnotized by his slow calculated words as you, out of pure reflex, reach for the handle behind you.

As you shut the door, effectively trapping yourself with him he murmurs “That’s a good girl. Ya do know how to listen Lucky Girl.”

Hearing Joel call you a good girl in his signature dark molasses like voice had you squeezing your thighs together.

“Hmm ya like that baby, huh?” He inquires

“N..no, that would be fuckin weird.” You try sounding sincere but to no avail Joel has seen through you a long time ago.

“Lucky you are liar, a slut, a junkie..-“

You hiss “What did you just say?” While stepping closer to where he sits.

“Ya heard me right Lucky, you are a fuckin junkie, smoking weed in my shed with Sarah. Are ya outta your mind?” He throws back

“You gotta be kidding me, right? Big Bad Mr Miller is shitting his pants cuz of a bit of weed.” You wheeze.

“That’s enough.” He decides, getting up in one swift imposing movement. Suddenly he’s the one towering over you and he looks pissed.

He’s on you in the blink of an eye threading his hand through your hair grabbing a decent amount by which he pulls you with him.

“Ouch…ouch what the fuck let me go.” You huff while trying to get his hands out of your hair. But he doesn’t appreciate the disobedience and starts pulling even harder, which brings you to tears from the pain.

“Ohhh poor baby Lucky, look at those tears, ya not havin’ fun huh? That’s too bad darlin’ but I don’t care.”

He sits back down on the chair and in one swift motion pulls you over his thighs. Your belly rests on his crotch and your whole world is turned upside down.

“Clearly no one has ever taught ya a lesson, that’s why ya always behave like a bratty bitch.”

His free hand flits to your sleeping shorts and practically tears them off of you. At the ripping sound you yelp.

“Hmm look at that plump ass and those sweet lacy panties…ya always wear this slutty underwear when ya have a sleepover?” All while he’s groping you.

“What the hell are you doing Joel?”

“Aw is it not Mr.Miller anymore? Have we lost our manners lil girl? Or is there a better name for me, hmm?” He inquires.

For some reason you know exactly what he wants to hear but you're not inclined to give in. Yet.

“It’s fine baby ya don’t need to say it now, I’ll make you scream that goddamn name you fucking slut.” He pulls on your hair “Ya hear me bitch.?”

All you manage is a meak nod before he lets go off your face.

You can feel his warm and calloused hand on your cheek squeezing, stroking and poking. Then his hand is gone but not for long. You can’t even react. He's that fast in delivering the first smack to your behind.

“Ya gonna take what i give ya and behave cuz you wanna be a good girl, right? Ya wanna be my good girl,hmm?”

“Y..y-yes I do Mr.Miller.” You say defeated.

“Atta Girl. I think 10 should do it, for now, until ya feel like acting up again..”

He is unrelenting when it comes to punishing you, each time the impact is harder and more unexpected than the previous. You have to bite your lip in order to suppress a moan, even though it hurts it’s incredible. You can feel yourself becoming wet, with each time that his hand collides with your behind more slick gushes out of your pussy. At this point there must be a wet patch visible.

His bulge pressing against your stomach tells you how much this is affecting him too.

“Lucky I know ya try to hide it but I can smell how she’s leaking and if I check I’m sure I’ll find that cunt all sloppy for me, right?”

“Y..y-yes.”

“That’s what i thought.” And with that he continues the assault on your cheeks.

And it may be only ten but he makes them count, the blows are measured and hard. You guess your cheeks must be glowing at this point.

When he finally reaches 10 it feels like hours have passed since you decided to go wander around. He’s massaging your bruised ass. You finally feel like you’re getting a moment of peace but that couldn’t be further from the truth, because Joel threads his hand back into your hair and yanks you to face him.

He’s just staring at you, accessing you and then he kisses you.

It’s rough, teeth clashing, tongues swirling around, his hands urgently grabbing your face, your fingers tangled in his graying curls.

Though the kissing is over before it can escalate too far, Joel is once again pulling you by your hair, this time he’s more gentle, he pulls you off of his knees and pushes you down on them in the space between his spread thighs. You’re at eye level with his crotch now that looks painfully hard.

As you peek up at him through your lashes you muse “Looks like you got a problem, a big problem…Daddy. You want me to help you?” All while innocently tilting your head at him.

He grabs your face roughly “Shut up Lucky and put ya smart mouth to better use.”

“Don’t underestimate me Daddy. I’ll make you love me.” You say while giving him a cheeky wink.

Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI, thank you 🙏🏻

Npt: @toxicanonymity @aurorawritestoescape @milla-frenchy @joelmillerisapunk @joelslegalwhre @joelsdagger @tonysopranosrobe @luxurychristmaspudding @mountainsandmayhem @moonlitbirdie @joelalorian @sawymredfox @thundermartini @ace-turned-confused @almostfoxglove @pedropeach @joelsgreys @joelstummy @ovaryacted @iamasaddie @wintrwinchestr @littlemisspascal

[alacetor-the-duckies-deer]

I have this headcanon for Alastor's back story where he's trans, and just as himself, as he is in the show, even as a kid. So his parents sent him of to a convent, were upon ww1 breaking out in his late teens, he ran away, forged a new identity as a man, got found out once he was already over seas, blackmailed a superior into letting him stay on, where he was introduced to radio communication, and the rest is history.

But all that to say, I like to then imagine, whenever anyone tells him something mildly outlandish, but definitely true, he likes to respond with "Yes, Vox, and I took a vow of celibacy when I was a catholic nun"

To which of course people think, "so you don't belive me? I mean but aren't you a virgin? Are you not????"

And of course, this never gets asked because who's gonna ask The Radio Demom about his Sexy Life.

Angel Dust that's who.

I imagine him doing an interview on Al's Show, just a mix of publicity for them both, hanging out because they're friends, and it's all a big middle finger to the Vee's.

Maybe it's pride month and so they were planning some talk about that, Alastor joking about a possible comming out, even though its plenty well know Alastor is some where on the ace spectrum to anyone with eyes.

They get on the topic somehow, Angel says something like, "I never laid myself across the bar like that! Second set of arms at most! Never my butt, never mind my legs! not after the first time!"

"Mh-hm. You got desperate in your flirting, and I took a vow of celibacy, when I was a nun. We all do silly things, Angel."

"Well, maybe I've laid out on the pool table, but it makes for good pictures. Anyway, I been meaning to ask you about that."

"About being a nun?

"No," angel laughs, plays it off, thinking he's joking. "About your being ace and all. No pressure, but like, you really never even wanted to try?"

"No, I find it quite repulsive. The idea even,"

"You don't watch nothin'? Read nothing either?"

"Ha! No! The filthy little novel Sister Amillia sneaked in the once was quite enough- are you okay Angel?"

Angel had infact just chocked on his latte. "Wait? Sister Amillia? Sneaked in? To where!?"

"The convent, Angel. I was 14, she was 16. Wonderful woman, taught me how to handle a knife, she left shortly after the novel was discovered- Sister Tabitha was as squeaky a little rat as she looked- never saw Amillia again, though."

"Wait, sorry. You were a nun, like, actually? What the fuck?"

One of the little lights that says they have a caller lit up, but Alastor ignore it for now. "Yes, Angel, do keep up."

"Wait, so like that nun costume you wear on halloween?" Angel blows right past the fact Alastor just came out as trans, because yeah. Didnt see it comming but, the trains already wizzing by, and more importantly- "Is that like your actual nun costume?"

"Ha! No, I flung that horrid thing in a garbage can on my way to the enlistment office when I was 17."

"Enlistment?" Angels begining to see what Alastor meant when he said this episode was going to be a unique experience for his listeners at the start of the braodcast. "Like world War 1, right? You were alive for that..."

"Yes, I figured with all the confusion one little girl-"

Angel's phone goes off. It's Val. Angel hits ignore.

"Fuck off Val, I'm off today" Angel says into his mic.

But they get interrupted again and again until Angel turns his phone off.

At which point all twelve of the little light that indicate the show had callers on the line, light up.

"Ah fuck. What does he want that bad? Can you just answer it real quick?"

Alastor flips a switch and answers.

"The fuck you want Val-"

"I'm not calling for you!" It's Vox on the other end, his voice booming from the speaker "Alastor! Are you fucking serious? You were a fucking nun?"

"Yes, Vox." He says with faux patience. "My goodness, did you all stuff your ears with cotton this morn-"

"So you DID actually take a vow of Celibacy? The other day at the meeting during my presentation, you said "that'll work, Vox, sure- and I took a vow-"

"Yes. I was there."

"And!?!"

"Celibacy, among other things. If this is a dig at my sexuality than-"

"Nah fuck that, hang on I'm doing math! Okay you were born in 1901, makes you 17 in 1918, yeah that tracks. Okay so 2024 make you 123, minus the 17 years to be conservative, thats 106 yeah?"

"I was 15 when I took that vow, and under threat of being institutionalized, if that's what you're getting at-"

"108! Ha! Oh my God! 108 years! That's gotta be a record!"

"What are you getting at Vox?"

"You took a vow!" Vox screams through his laughter. "All the pomp and circumstance! On consecrated ground! before god!? To abstain from sex! And even here in hell, were sin and blasphemy are rampant and free-"

"Careful Vox, your televangelist is showing-"

"Who gives a fuck!? You're the one whos upheld their vow to God for over a century like some devout saint!"

Angel and Alastor sit there staring at eachother while Vox laughs his head off around them

"Saint Alastor the Abstinent! The pantron Saint of Virgi-"

Alastor hangs up. "Well that was informative!" Alastor chirps "Well, What's to be done about this? Hm, Angel?"

And for some reason, an unholy one, surely, the first thing out of Angel's mouth is "I could suck you dick? If that- would count?"

And it's a testament to how far they've come as friends, or pooooossbily Alastor's nerves, or maybe his sheer unwavering bravado, but Alastor only bursts out laughing, shaking his head as he get out between laughter "I don't- have one!"

And then they're both laughing and laughing and laughing, and eventually they calm down, and Alastor gets a thoughtful look. "Though, Vox did have one good point."

"Oh?"

"That does have to be a recorded, at least among sinners. Why! I very well might have redeemed myself! We should certainly bring this up with Sera at the next conference!"

And then their off both laughing again, imaging Serra's face when she realises she's going to have to look into yet more research onto the workings of redemption from Heaven's end.

[serialkilluh1996]

✆𝐌𝐄𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐇𝐋𝐄𝐑✆

Older-Crush-König x Younger-female-reader pt.1

You have an unhealthy infatuation with König. But where there is obsession, there are dilemmas. He's 35, you're 21. He's your colonel, you're just an assistant. But most importantly, he can't fucking stand you.

Warnings: reader has specifically the personality i wrote, use of ☆☆☆ in place of reader's name, age gap (14 years), König is kinda of an ass, contact me if I need to add more.

Proshippers, Comshippers DNI

¹ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ➛

It's been almost a year since you fell in love with this man.

You were 20, looking for a reasonably paying job to live a reasonably affordable life, and Kortac had just the position.

A base level assistant. All you had to do was make sure everyone was in check, keep track of everyone's time sheets, and make sure all important files, including inventory, were safely stowed away in your computer supplied by the company. Who could turn down such an easy job? You didn't even have to do any field work.

Your life was going pretty damn smooth, if it wasn't for him. Him being König, your colonel and angel. He's a gorgeous man. Bright blue eyes, a firm muscular body, imposing height, his flattering accent. You were instantly in love with him, and he fucking hated it.

It started off small, with him politely hinting you away, but you were persistent. Bothersome. You absolutely wouldn't let him go, and that very fact would be the death of you.

König taps his pen against his desk, unmotivated to write his paperwork that was long past due. It wasn't anything serious, just a list of yes/no, if/and, where/when questions he didn't feel like reading through. Tap tap tap tap, the pen knocks against the table, abruptly stopping once König noticed you standing in the doorway.

He sighs, his entire mood shifting from unmotivated to irritated. "...why are you here, ☆☆☆..." he asks, sounding like more of a statement than a question due to his heavy accent and rough tone. Your name sounded like a curse coming from his mouth; a slur, even.

"I've done all my tasks." You explain to him, hands clasped together as you lean against the threshold.

"Und? Did ya want a cookie or something?" He teases. "I–I–" you stutter out, not sure how to respond to his sarcasm. "Don't worry about it." He fans his hand, looking back down at the paper.

He would've wrather been writing than dealing with you right now. You were so genuinely in love, enamored by him and his....qualities. but to König, this was all just some dumb hormonal puppy crush. He wanted a mature woman, not some silly girl like you.

"I...wanted to know if you'd go to the bar with me." You force out, your stomach churning with anxiety as you finally got the words out. "I'm not gonna be able to sneak you, Liebling, if that's what you're implying." He chuckles softly, beginning to scribble away at the paper.

"Sneak me in? I'm old enough to go to a bar, thank you very much." You look offended. It's almost humorous to him. Your anger is probably the only thing about you that made him smile, how funny and easy it was to piss you off. The younger ones typically did have a shorter temper.

"Oh, und how old are ya? 16? 17?" "...21." You said firmly, visibly irritated. You somehow managed to be the youngest in every group, so you were no stranger to being tease about your age.

"Oh...just old enough to drink. So, you want me to come and babysit you while you get drunk off your ass by some alcohol you're probably not even strong enough to handle?" "Why are you acting like this?" You folded your arms, frowning.

"What?" "I'm not inviting you as a chaperone, I'm inviting you as a date." You tilt your head slightly.

"...A date?" König almost bursts into laughter, stifling his chuckles with coughs as he covered his mouth. You could feel your confidence dropping with every hearty giggle.

"You're asking me out? Seriously?" "...yes." You mumble, no longer wanting to talk. "Why don't you ask Avery, hm? He's MUCH closer to your age." You frown at his words.

Avery was one his soldiers. A very kind young man, no older than 25, messy blonde hair. You loved having Avery around and he always made your moments memorable, but...he was practically a brother to you. You didn't see Avery as a potential love interest, you saw him as a silly best friend who had your back when you needed it.

"I don't want to go with him. I don't like him." You pouted.

"Well, that's too bad, Liebling. I'm far too old to be going out with someone like you. You're too young, und frankly, quite annoying. I want a woman. Not a puppy. Go ask someone else," he clicks his pen, leaning back in his chair.

"You're a very beautiful young lady and I'm sure there's plenty of men your age willing to kill to be with you." "I don't care what tuey want, I care what I want." You try to sound demanding, like you're standing your ground, but it comes out like a spoiled child whining, frustrating you further.

"Don't throw a fit, now." "I'm not!" You shout, now angry with yourself for being so openly bothered by his rejection. He couldn't help but exhale, looking at the sight of you. Your face was hot with agitation, eyes squinted with frustration as you stared into his eyes. He couldn't help but smile at your clenched hands. You were awful at hiding your emotions. It was almost precious to him

He felt himself becoming more tense, having to look down at the desk and put a hand to his forehead. "What am I gonna do with you..." he shakes his head. This wasn't the first time he'd rejected your advances; you've asked a myriad of times, being slowly but surely denied with more force each time.

"... I'll consider it." He offers, scratching his forehead, and you almost instantly rejoice at the idea. You suppressed a squeal as you bit your lip, trying not to make yourself look dumber.

"But not as a date." He interrupts, and you become nervous again.

"I don't want any unnecessary rumors about us spreading around. I'm not dating you and I don't want people to have the impression that I am. I'll invite a few others to go along with us and you will behave like a proper young lady. Understood?" "....Understood."

You can support me by liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or cashapping me @fundsbrownie. Donations are optional, but much appreciated. Have fun! And remember, take care of yourself.

[csainz5]

Mine || Charles Leclerc #16

pairing: charles leclerc x girlfriend!reader

summary: in which seeing people ship you with other drivers fuels the possessiveness in charles.

author notes: can u tell ive been obsessed with culpa mia. also this is my first charles fic (!!!) i made sm tweaks to the original req im so sorry 😭 deff been in a slump recently bc exams but 🙏 no beta read!! this one is still raw asf lol

req: yes/no.

wc: 1.2k words

————

the air as the weekend approached was filled with an adrenaline of its own. drivers loitering on the paddock, a camera shoved up each one of their faces. most of them were making videos for their teams social media, while others were giving interviews. silly banter & playful hazing surrounded the place as the free practices neared. as calm and laid back as the environment was, a new buzz had taken over the virtual world. it seemed like the redbull fans had taken on a new intrest in a the friendship you and max shared, suspecting it could be more than just friends. you’re shocked as you read through the articles, what could possibly make it seem like you were both in any sense more than just friends? max was like the brother you never had, and you, the sister he had always hoped of having. as much as the articles were delusional, you didnt really care that much about them, i mean why would you be afraid when there’s nothing youre scared of being open to the public? okay, maybe not everything. not the time when you were so drunk you demanded every guy on the paddock to quote “settle it with me on the ring”, not the time when you were the culprit behind the hilarious azerbaijan mix up where you stole the champagne on the podium and replaced it with an empty one, and definitely not the fact that you’re already taken, by a person known to all on the paddock.

—

The morning of the race was always an exhilarating one no matter which team youre driving for, or which team you’re rooting for. the passion, the dedication and the confidence in the each and every drivers persona was enough to fill you in the same mindset. though youve always been a redbull fan, which, i mean is definitely not even surprising considering you probably frequent their garage more than some of their own engineers, youve always held an admiration for all the drivers. even you knew how dominant the redbull cars were, so seeing the rest of the drivers still catch up with less resources filled your heart with pride. you look up at the fan’s waiting impatiently for the race to start with a smile on your face. this, will never get boring, you think.

Lord Percival 👑

can’t find you anywhere near here, don’t tell me you’re ditching me today yet again 😔

a chuckle escapes your lips.

You

i wouldve come over but you’re all the way across rn 😭 i’ll definitely be waiting for you after the race tho.

Lord Percival 👑

wow. way to betray me over text babe

You

okay drama queen 😒

Lord Percival 👑

guess you rubbed off on me then mon jolie

You

ill make it up to you, i always do.

just before you press send, you notice the drivers had already left for their respective interviews. whats the point in sending it now anyways, you decide.

—

the dark looms over the sky as celebrations near. the smell of alcohol, weed and god knows fucking what become all too familiar to you at this point. you reach the party alongside max, which considering he’s your best friend was not out of the ordinary for you, but little did you know, it didn’t help the ongoing rumours one bit. the familiar stench of reporters clogs your mind. what the hell were the doing here? and more importantly why were all of them suddenly taking an intrest in your friendship with max? question after question is thrown at you which makes you realise youve had enough of this. you reach for your phone.

You

screw this party

wanna meet up at our usual spot?

Lord Percival 👑

im always down 🙏

—

you could never get sick of this. the same ride, the same atmosphere, the exact same playlist playing over and over again, the curves of the road as you drive through. because you know, at the end of this journey would be the same thing you look forward to, every time. so you get into you car, and drive the same drive to the same spot, once again. at a pillar reading out “623” you stop by the ferrari you know all too well.

there he was. i could never get used to seeing him like this, you think, dressed up in formals but looking formal in no way whatsoever. shriveled hair, buttons unbuttoned, jewellery he knows how to style in just the right way. his crazed eyes of emerald, gazing into you with an intensity that makes your nerves shiver.

“took you long enough to come here” he says, holding you waist. “it was a longer drive than usual” “is that so?” he says, stepping aside you to rest against his ferrari, right beside you. folding his arms, he continues, pulling a cigarette out of his blazer, “want one?” “please, today was a bitch” “i could say the same for me, really” he reaches towards you, lighting your cigarette. “races in monaco are my favourite” he says, looking up at the sky. “yeah, id imagine so. nothing beats home” “yeah, it’s great to be home and all, but theres also something in monaco that beats the thrill any race could give me” he steps forwards, hands placed beside either sides of you.

he pulls the cigarette from your lips, taking in a puff himself. he brings his lips to your ear, “or rather, theres someone in monaco, who beats the thrill any race could give me” he whispers, blowing the smoke away. he flicks the cigarette aside and steps on it, as he lifts your face up, meeting your eyes with his own. “someone who sighs right when i kiss her here,” he goes on to place a chaste kiss on your mole, right on your neck by your jawline. and like a story repeated enough times, you sigh. “someone who arches her back when i pull her hair slightly like this,” he gently tugs your hair, making a makeshift ponytail and like a telltale, you arch your back, the satisfaction of being right sprawled across charles’s face.

“but of all, the one thing that makes me come back to this place again and again, is knowing that—“ he lifts your hips up, making you wrap your legs around him. “you’re mine.” the second he says that, its like all the dots connected in your head. you never thought charles would be jealous of the rumours, given how he was the one who didn’t want your relationship to be public. “charles, are you jealous?” you ask. “so what if i am?” “well, i for one wouldnt want my boyfriend to be feeling like that anymore” “what do you mean?” you pull out your phone from your clutch, “kiss me” “wait what are you doing?” “i said, kiss me” you say, pulling him in by his jaw. “im conf-“ you kiss him, shutting him up. as he closes his eyes he finds himself to not be able to help himself from drowning into you, well atleast until a flash brings him out of his trance. “im going to post it.” “you don’t have to, you know” “but i want to. i want everyone to know how much you mean to me charles. you’re my favourite person and i would hate to see you be jealous”

——

“i can’t believe you actually did it, jolie” “its the least i could do” you say, pecking his cheek. “but ive gotta say, i definitely wouldnt mind seeing this shade of you more often” “you haven’t seen the end of me yet, mon ange”

[jasvtsc]

young!jensen x reader. ex-bf!jensen x reader.

discreet glances.

small smiles.

mouthing things you couldn’t say aloud.

secret touches under the table. 

your pinky finger rubbing his as he had his hand on your knee.

all of that? it turned into complete ignorance.

you were confused about what caused your breakup with jensen. you both were fine. everything was fine. up until one night, it wasn’t anymore. you came back home, where he was already waiting for you, his head hung low as he kept his hands clasped tightly together. you could see a small tremble in them as if he was holding back his sadness. or anger. you couldn’t tell. 

you dropped your bag and tilted your head to the side, slowly approaching him. you were quiet. he was quiet. the whole apartment was quiet except for the clock, slowly ticking in the background, and some white noise coming from the kitchen. you felt your heart slowly coming up your throat as he finally lifted his glossy green eyes to look at you. once so full of life and love, now replaced with sadness and heartbreak.

exactly 38 minutes and 16 seconds later, you and jensen broke up. he said it was distance and work. you both were young, freshly rising stars. you had your projects — most of them abroad, and he had his stuff here. it wouldn’t have worked, that’s what he said. and you just agreed. 'cause what else was there? if he didn’t want to fight for the two of you, why should you? two people make a relationship. not one.

so, once cheerful looks turned to avoidance of eye contact whenever your eyes met.

once quiet chuckles turned to sternness and ignoring each other.

once intimate touches turned into keeping distance as if one of you had some kind of disease.

you tried to move on. you tried. after spending countless hours crying yourself to sleep and wondering what you did wrong, you finally stepped out into the world again. slowly, you were regaining your spirit, that gleam in your eyes you lost due to the heartbreak. but most importantly, you finally let go of your past. of him. 

maybe one day your paths will cross again.

jensen also tried to get back on track. but the looming feeling of guilt and realisation that he had lost the best things in his entire life hung heavy on his shoulders. he knew he made a mistake. he should’ve never chosen his career over you. you were always supporting him, you were there for him and he went and dumped it cause what? a young heartthrob like him would lose fans if others found out he was in a relationship. he knew he should’ve never listened to his manager. but now? it was too late. you were gone. 

now, whenever he saw you, his eyes were full of longing.

his heart was crying for you.

he knew that he had to talk to you again. no matter if you hated him. he had to see you.

you were in your assigned place at some awards show. and you weren’t sure if it was just your luck or he did that on purpose, but jensen was sitting next to you. at first, you were thinking about changing your seat, but then again, there was no bad blood between the two of you. you could act like adults, right?

“baby, listen to me, i’m sorry— “ he started, turning his head to look at you with those green eyes that had so much depth to them. and again, you could see that love in them. fuck, you were crumbling. you weren’t over him as much as you thought that you were.

“hey, it’s okay. it’s fine. we’re fine.”

“we’re not, ‘kay? i regret my decision every single fucking minute of the day. i’m a fucking idiot. i should’ve never break your heart like that. i love you, baby. please, i— ” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “i’m sorry. about everything.”

you didn’t know what to do. your heart was yearning for him. you missed him, so much. but he broke your heart, there was no going back from that.

so, you sat in silence, just staring at each other as people around were clapping and cheering for the person on stage. but you didn’t care nor did jensen. his whole world was sitting right in front of him.

a/n: okay so yeah i wrote a little sth and tbh im not sure how i feel about it lmao i just hope that you enjoy it guys <3

༄♡ tags: @internetitgirl17 @beausling @deanswidow @deansbite @aileenunfiltered @fitxgrld @figthoughts @angelicp0etry @hrtsoldierboy @titsout4nicholas

[annoyinglandmagazine]

So I did Classical Studies in secondary school which was a fairly obscure subject, there were only nine of us in the class and we were all super into it.

Just for context here I’m talking about the class I was in from first to third year, between the ages of 13 and 16 for people with different education systems. We read the Iliad as part of course and it was really dense and when I tell you none of us could hear the word simile today without flashbacks to notating pages after pages of Homer comparing the way people walked to lions……

Anyway, it was a nightmare to read but we loved it.

We came out of those three years having forgotten most of the history of the Roman Empire but we all knew that Paris was a little bitch good for nothing but his looks, Achilles and Patroclus were definitely gay, Achilles was also a little bitch but we love him for it, Hector and Andromache deserved better and, most importantly, Agamemnon was a complete and utter douchebag who deserved everything he got and Clytemnestra was absolutely right to stab him to death in a bathtub, seriously fuck that guy.

We were so invested in this subject that we finished the curriculum early two years in a row and each year our teacher decided that we could put on a play related to the subject to fill out the last two months or so.

Naturally we settled on Troy Story 1 and Troy Story 2 detailing the Birth of Paris through to Achilles returning Hector’s body to Priam in two 40 minute instalments.

Absolutely no one of the forty people who wandered in by accident to witness our work of art understood a single second of what was going on or why we were all restrained laughter at what was basically eighty minutes of obscure classics in jokes. It was glorious. I recently found the script and I wanted to share the chaos.

Highlights included:

Jesse’s Girl playing over Helen and Paris’ introduction while she’s married to Menelaus.

So much unnecessary use of the word bro. Just so much.

Zeus and Hera narrating while passive aggressively bickering for every second of it. The gods constantly saying ‘do you want to get involved in some human drama’ to rope each other in

The extreme dramatic build up to the use of the word dog

Agamemnon speaks like a frat boy the whole time, like the biggest douche ever.

Achilles lifting Hectors body and dragging it around in slo mo while we are the champions plays

Achilles watching the war from his blanket burrito while eating popcorn out of his helmet

The shepherd who found Paris on a mountainside holding him up while the Lion King music played over it

Achilles’ trashy blonde wig. I cannot stress enough how trashy and blonde this wig was. Also Achilles was deliberately cast as the shortest girl in the class (5’ 3).

Odysseus and Diomedes night mission had mission impossible music playing over it as we parkoured across the stage and peaked out behind curtains. They also have dialogue in which they constantly want to stab something

Paris never appears in the sequel but is dissed constantly

We couldn’t do any actual Patrochilles cause Catholic school but we settled for prolonged eye contact to My Heart Will Go On and long pauses after dramatic references to My Closest Companion

Achilles: I need my best bro friend! My life soulmate! My favourite cook!

Achilles in the tent with headphones on listening to All By Myself with mascara streaming down his face after Patroclus died

The facts that Agamemnon killed his daughter and Zeus and Hera are siblings is constantly just kind of dropped in with no context

Everyone’s costumes were mostly just lab coats tied over our shoulders with shared armour from the one girl that apparently had a closet full of Ancient Greek style plastic swords, helmets and breastplates.

We spent an entire class making a giant pink tv frame out of cardboard, paper and way too much sellotape for one joke that wasn’t even that funny. We named it Daniel.

Briseis was an American Girl doll.

The gods yelling at each other to try and pick teams and resulting in a slap fight with an announcement that it lasted 3 hours.

Thetis yelling encouragement from the side lines and calling Achilles her little crib lizard for some reason also she’s reading Song of Achilles in one of her scenes

[sl33paholics]

Josuke Higashikata Dating / Relationship Headcanons!

(He's so baby lowkey)

Song: Always Forever by Cults

How does he realize that he's in love?

He always finds himself fumbling and stumbling over his words whenever talking to you. Josuke always tries to keep his conversations between you two as SHORT as possible.

He cheeses up whenever your name is mentioned. A huge smile appears on his face, teeth showing and everything. Josuke experiences the butterflies! His heart races so fast, and he's red to the ears. Josuke even tries to get his friends to stop talking about you around him, gets him all jumpy and scared.

Josuke often finds himself daydreaming. Whenever it's so hot Josuke can't focus, or the lesson is too long and boring, he can imagine himself sitting next to you. Just goofing around, passing notes, and cracking jokes. It's only until his teacher slams on his desk to make him snap out of it.

The lovestruck boy feels a longing and yearning for your presence whenever you're not around. If you gotta get to your classes, he'd watch you disappear within the crowd as he wished for you to stay a bit longer.

Without a doubt this man would be jealous as FUCK whenever you're around other people than HIM. Josuke could chuckle and giggle around you and the other person, but as soon as you leave he can't help but have the urge to punch the wall.

What would Josuke do in his private time with his partner?

I can see Josuke enjoying quiet time. He's so energetic around his friends and at school, just being with you throughout the night, watching movies, or talking to each other in general. The boy loves the peace and intimacy together.

Playing video games can be a big factor. Competitive video games always get Josuke pumped and in the mood to overthrow you in any way possible. Just don't be surprised when his mom walks in and shouts at you two to be quiet 🤭

Swapping out and exchanging music tastes. Josuke is going to fein over showing you music like Prince (since it's his favorite artist) the two of you would be listening to people such as David Bowie, Whitney Houston, Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Wonder, and many more all evening.

Cooking together. This. Boy. Can. Not. Cook. For. Shit. Josuke is always relying on you for assistance on whatever meal he wants to make, but he's not embarrassed to learn from his partner to improve on his own skills in the kitchen 🧑‍🍳

Most importantly, CUDDLING. Oh, how much Josuke loves to be intimate with you while watching TV before lights out. He craves physical touch, so expect to be in his arms all night.

Does he see having a future with you? Where would your relationship take y'all?

I can see Josuke being so head over heels for you. I mean, you're his first ever serious relationship. The boy is only 16. Only time would tell what could happen as the years go on.

Despite being very popular at school, he's sticking to the loyal code. As if Josuke wasn't already overwhelmed by the girls huddling around him beforehand, now he's confident to shoo them away and show you off. Intentional or not.

It would be nice to celebrate anniversaries. Josuke has always been infatuated on surprising you on the day with gifts! Maybe not expensive ass gifts, but possible handmade that he did with his mom 🥰 or jewelry that he can afford (if he can learn how to save up 🙄)

His mother hounds Josuke about his relationship, but not in a bad way. Tomoko wants the best for his son (and lowkey doesn't want him to end up like Joseph), so she's heavily involved in what you two do. Sure, it's very annoying, but Josuke knows his mother doesn't mean any harm.

Josuke can see himself years down the line having a family with you. He's really that lovestruck and delulu, so you have to remind him that you guys are only teens and don't know what life has for the both of y'all at the end of the tunnel.

Josuke just really loves you <3

[anna-hawk]

Dexterity

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: You're having some quality time on your own when Frank pays you an unexpected visit.

Explicit 🔞 • WC: 4,1k

Tags and warnings: masturbation, finger fucking, teasing, praise kink, hand & finger kink, dirty talk

Always time for Coffee series

⚠️ If you follow me on AO3, this is NOT a new fic! ⚠️

A/N: This month will mark five years since I posted my very first Frank x Reader fic. I made a small post for the series a few years back, but never a dedicated one for the first ever fic. After the news and pics of getting Frank back today, even if it's only for a small role, I was thinking back to the time I got first inspired to write and actually post something for once. It's been quite the journey since then and this series has now 16 parts, but most importantly, this fic played a big part in me joining the beautiful fandom that I've been a part of these past 4 years and getting me to meet incredible people. So I figured, let's be nostalgic and officially post it on here too.

Ever since meeting Frank Castle, you’ve been obsessed with his hands.

You know they have killed numerous people and could do cruel things to the ones deserving it, but you also know how kind and gentle they can be. When he would come to your shop as Pete, you’d seen how he would talk to one of your employees' kid, the boy having always had a short fuse, and manage to calm the boy down by simply putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. The couple of times when he’d handled the fragile elements of your ice cream maker while repairing it with those deft hands had also shown how gentle they could be. 

Yeah, you really have a thing for his hands and the guy himself.

The first time you'd met him, you'd met Pete Castiglione the construction worker, who’d been visiting your Café for the first time. You had followed the whole Punisher debacle on TV and had been very intrigued by the man’s story. Yet even though you'd thought that Pete looked familiar, it had taken you a few weeks of him coming in every other day and helping you out with an electrical problem, to realize who had actually been hiding under all this wild hair and beard. That had been the first time you had come into contact with his hands, too. He had taken off his baseball cap, looked at you to ask where the problem was while standing really close to you, and something in his expression had finally made it click inside you. You'd breathed out, “Frank Castle,” in stunned realization a moment later. In the next second, he'd had you by your throat and against the opposite wall, asking who’d sent you. You had been so startled that you’d just started laughing at the absurdity of you being able to hurt him. Okay, so maybe not really laughed as much as choked, since he’d had his fingers squeezing rather hard around your windpipe. But you'd managed to wheeze out your thoughts, and he'd released you enough for you to tell him why and how you had recognized him. He’d deemed you trustworthy enough, apparently, because he'd let go of you and apologized for overreacting.

You had promised him that you would never tell anyone about him that same evening.

As weeks passed, and he’d still come by your Café, you'd managed to build a rather close friendship. After a while, though, you'd noticed that he was coming by less and less until he stopped coming altogether, making you worried. Finally, after the day everyone had found out that Frank Castle was still alive through live TV, he'd come to your shop when you were closing. You had been even more scared for him since the news and beyond relieved to see him unscathed. You had been touched to learn that he’d wanted to make sure that no one had found out that you knew about him and come to hurt you to get to him. He'd also told you that he would have to lie low for a while. You'd suggested that he should come to your place and hide there. He had declined, too worried about what could happen to you. Still, as you'd accepted his concern, you'd told him that he could come to yours whenever he needed to, no matter the time of the day or the night. You had never been more glad about giving him your address because weeks later, he had come to hide for the night and had done so several nights until the whole thing with Billy Russo had been over.

Nowadays, he still shows up every now and again. Mostly nights because he has some business to take care of, or just to say hi. You both grab a drink (mostly coffee) and chat. You enjoy his company a lot. Okay, more than a lot. You’ve had a thing for the Punisher even before meeting Frank, but since knowing the man himself, you couldn’t help being attracted to Frank and his beautiful large hands and agile fingers. Among other things. You don't know where he stands with romantic or even only physical relationships considering his past, but you do kind of flirt with one another. You know that Frank likes you a lot; otherwise he wouldn’t come to see you regularly. But even if you want him, badly, you feel that it’s more like bantering to him and nothing more.

That doesn’t stop you from dreaming or fantasizing about him and the filthy things that you’d love him to do to you or you to him, though. And that's actually exactly what you’re doing right now. You’re lying on your bed, the sheets tangled around your legs, one hand inside your sleeping shorts while your breaths come harder and faster. You’ve been teasing yourself for what feels like an hour, fingers alternating between circling your clit languidly and pushing three deep into you to mimic the size of two of his, getting yourself closer and closer to one spectacular orgasm. You’ve got your eyes closed, face flushed, bottom lip between your teeth, while your middle finger is rubbing faster and faster over your slippery clit. Harsh breaths leave you as you picture Frank spreading you wide with his fingers and whispering dirty nothings into your ear. You’re right there, on the brink, ready to fall, when there’s a resounding knock at your door.

You yelp in surprise and flinch so hard that you nearly hit yourself in the face with how fast you remove your hand from between your legs. You’re trying to get your bearings back, your body still trembling from being strung high for so long and not getting what it wants, when there is another knock. You groan in frustration and get up on wobbly legs to go check on who wants to see you so badly at that time of night. You look through the peephole and gasp when you see Frank’s face. He'd been here only last week, and he usually shows up only once a month at best, so you’re completely thrown when you open your door to the smirking man.

“Hey, Sweetheart,” he greets in his signature gruff and deep voice, upper body pressed lazily against the door jamb.

He’s looking calm and carrying no signs of a recent fight. Meaning that this isn’t an emergency call. Good. He’s wearing dark jeans and a charcoal Henley with his usual combat boots, three days worth of stubble on his face. He looks mouthwatering, and you valiantly try not to let anything show on your face.

“Was in the neighborhood visitin' Curtis and thought I could come check on you too. Sorry it’s so late,” he continues, confirming your earlier thoughts on there being no immediate danger.

“You’ve come by way later, Frank,” you remind him with a snort and motion for him to follow you inside.

You notice that your voice came out a bit strained, and hope that he doesn’t see how your knees are still shaking after the near orgasm and the effect his unexpected presence has on you. Well, turns out that you’re out of luck. 

“You okay there?” He asks, as he follows you into the kitchen.

You groan inside, of course he noticed. You still try to play it off.

“What? Of course, I’m okay.” You hate how your laugh sounds off. You’re usually better at faking stuff like that.

“Yeah?” he says, coming to stand right before you to give you a once over. “'cause you’re all flushed and breathin' kinda hard.” He even lifts one hand to feel your temperature, but you dodge it and turn to the sink, reaching over it to get two coffee mugs out of a cupboard. Anything to avoid him see you blush even more.

“I’m fine, Frank, don’t worry… Coffee?” You desperately hope that he’s going to let it go. You need to put yourself back together and slow your breathing.

“Can never refuse your coffee.”

You breathe a small sigh of relief when he seems to accept your answer and smile at how fond he sounds of your coffee making skills. You’re about to reach for the coffee beans when he says, “Seriously, though, am I makin' you this nervous or what's goin' on?”

You put your hands back down and groan in defeat, hanging your head.

“Could you just let it go, Frank? Please?”

He doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and you don’t turn around to look at him while you wait.

“Did I interrupt somethin'?” He finally says, amusement clear in his voice. Damn him and his perceptiveness.

You hide your face in your hands and whimper in embarrassment.

“Oh God, just shut up, Frank!” Your voice is muffled by your hands. He barks out a laugh, making you lower your hands again. “You’re such a jerk.”

“Hey, hey, `s okay Sweetheart, there’s nothin' to be embarrassed about,” he tells you gently, though you can tell that he’s still grinning, the bastard.

“Yes well…” You still refuse to turn around, even though you can hear him move closer behind you.

“'could always show me, y'know,” he says, and even though the words hit you to the core because the thought alone sends a new wave of deep arousal through you, you can’t place his tone. 

That's why you do the only thing that comes to mind and gasp, turning around to backhand him in the chest and play into the joke.

“Oh, fuck you, asshole.”

You meet his eyes and see that there’s something there, lying just under the teasing glint. You suck in a breath, holding it in, while your heart beats a nervous tattoo against your rib cage.

“Or… I could help 'course,” he finally says, voice low, after what feels like minutes and not seconds, his piercing eyes never leaving yours.

You stare at him, still barely daring to breathe. The idea of him helping you out nearly sends you to your knees. Eventually, you exhale in a snort because come on, he doesn’t mean it, and go back to facing the counter, taking the coffee beans out of the cupboard.

“Yeah, right… Let’s get back to that coffee, yeah?” Bonus points for sounding offhand.

You hear him taking another step and then see his hands coming to rest on the counter, one on each side of you, effectively caging you in. His voice is a rough whisper against your left ear, making you gasp.

“Is that a no?”

Your hands, now inches apart from Frank’s, are gripping the marble beneath them, hard. You close your eyes and swallow.

“Don’t play games with me, Frank.” Your voice goes deeper and colder in warning. You might not expect anything romantic-wise from him, but you won’t be made a fool of.

“‘m not playin', Baby.”

To confirm his words, he glides his nose along your nape and bites you lightly on the juncture between neck and shoulder.

You moan, all need. That nickname. He's never used it before, but it does something to you. Babe you’ve never liked. But Baby? The way Frank says it, just gets to you. You incline your head to the side, a silent surrender, and feel him grin against your skin. Your eyes are closed so that you don’t see his right hand leave the counter, but feel it settle on your hip and slowly glide down your thigh to the hem of your shorts. To your dismay, his mouth leaves your neck.

“Spread your legs for me, Sweetheart,” he rumbles into your ear.

You oblige instantly, parting your legs and leaning slightly forward to accommodate him. Frank hums in approval. You can feel his fingers on your skin now, just beneath the hem of your shorts, slowly making their way under your right butt cheek and to your center, the touch light and measured. How is it that he's barely touching you and making your breathing speed up again? You try to relax your hands because you’re still gripping the hard kitchen surface like crazy; anything to anchor you. But Frank chooses that moment to push the short’s to the side, hooking it between your ass cheeks and the left side of your outer lips, to grant him easier access. One large finger slides through your still wet folds. One lazy pass through your slit and up to your clit, and your hands lock into place again, a harsh gasp leaving your mouth.

“Shit, already so fuckin’ wet, huh? Guess I did interrupt somethin' good.”

You say nothing, you can’t right now.

Frank keeps up his slow and torturous pace, sometimes staying over your clit and circling it with a featherlight touch that has you nearly screaming in frustration. You try to get a bit more pressure by pushing down on his finger every time he does this, but he just goes back to teasing your slit. Your arms are trembling from the strain, and you murmur a nearly silent plea for more. He seems to hear you though because he chuckles kindly and applies enough pressure for you to moan in satisfaction for a few seconds, before he stops again, too soon. When you fantasize about him, you usually picture him as the teasing kind of lover, but your imagination could never have reached this level.

“Tell me… What you been thinkin' about earlier?”

You’re kind of put out to hear that his voice is still steady, so you decide on the truth. In for a penny and all that.

“You,” you breathe softly.

His movements stop, and you’re satisfied with his reaction, when you realize that you might have overshared. His hand is moving again a moment later, and he growls deep in his throat. He presses his chest to your back, left hand coming up from the counter to grab your jaw and pull it to the side to press biting kisses into your neck and shoulder, making you keen.

“Me, huh? Fuck, now I really want ya to show me sometime…,” he pants roughly into your neck, index finger rubbing tighter and harder over you. “And what was I doin’?”

You have to concentrate to answer him, the pressure on your clit so delicious now. Your voice ends up breaking on each word.

“Something… like… that…”

“Something?”

“Finger-fucking… me.”

He inhales sharply, and you feel him adjust his position behind you, his clothed erection brushing against your ass for a second.

“Something like that?”

Two of his large fingers plunge deep into you, filling you to the brim. You cry out in bliss and go up on your tiptoes for a second as your body rises. Your back bows backward, resulting in your head coming to rest on his shoulder, while your eyes close, and you catch your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Fuck, you feel so good for me, Baby,” he groans into your temple. He withdraws slightly before pushing back all the way in, setting a steady rhythm as the way his name keeps falling from your lips keeps him going.

The hand on your jaw slackens after a while and travels down your neck, over your collarbone and a covered nipple. He’s stroking down your belly and to the junction of your thighs before he finally stops directly over your clit. He rolls it between index and thumb with just the right amount of too much and not enough pressure, or flicks quickly over it repeatedly to keep you on your toes and not know what to expect next. The rhythm of his two hands are completely different. Where his left hand is teasing you slowly but mercilessly, his right hand still has two fingers fucking you fast and deep, making you whimper brokenly. His fingers feel absolutely incredible, yet you know that it’s to keep you on the edge of release. You love and hate it at the same time. The dual sensation has you removing your head from his shoulder to take your weight with your hands on the counter again, leaning forward a bit more to push your ass out and give him even better access.

Frank grunts his approval and keeps up the pace. You feel him resting his forehead on the nape of your neck.

“Holy shit, girl, look at ya takin' my fingers so perfectly,” he says gruffly. You squeeze down on said fingers at the praise, resulting in a groan of appreciation from him.

Eventually, no matter how long he’d intended to keep you on the brink, you’ve been strung so high for so long, that your orgasm is building inexorably, your body ready to crash back down again. His continuous praise is speeding it up as well. Your legs start to shake and a light sheen of sweat is covering your skin. Your harsh breaths are intermingled with moans and gasps of please mores and yesyesyes.

“Frank, please,” you beg one last time. “Please!”

“I gotcha, Sweetheart,” Frank answers finally and starts upping his pace on your clit.

“Yes!” you hiss, elated.

But Frank is apparently not completely done with you because he removes his two fingers from inside you, only to push back but with a third one, this time. You can only cry out in surprise and deep pleasure as he gives you half a second to adjust, before he starts an intense rhythm again. You’ve never felt this full with only fingers, and you can now feel as your release starts curling hotter and tighter in your belly.

“F-f-f-frank, I’m so, so close,” you manage to breathe out.

Frank keeps a litany of words spilling out of his mouth against your neck, “So fuckin' perfect for me” and, “Takin' me so beautifully”.

Suddenly, you're right there again, just like before, ready to take the leap. You feel the shivers running through your whole body and centering where Frank is rubbing tighter and tighter circles. Frank lifts his head from yours and growls deeply into your ear. “Now come for me, Baby. Come on my fingers.”

“Oh fuck, Frank!” You mewl, high-pitched, and that’s it. Everything in you snaps at his words. The intensity of this so long to come orgasm hits you like a freight train driven by Frank Castle. Your body curves back against his, your head back on his shoulder, facing his neck. Your hold on the kitchen worktop becomes deadly again after having slackened somewhat, and you cry out in pure, unadulterated bliss. You dimly feel Frank stopping the fingers inside you and taking them out to circle your waist and push you even more back against him. His focus is on his left hand, index finger still stroking your bud with intense precision, prolonging your release.

As you’re slowly coming down, your body begins to tremble and Frank tightens his hold on you to prevent your knees from giving out on you. You finally release the worktop, fingers a bit stiff, and put them over Frank’s arm to hold on to. His finger hasn’t stop working you, though, and while it’s sending you nice aftershocks, which have you jerking and gasping against him, you finally reach down with one hand to grab his wrist to stop his movements and rest it against your waist with the other.

“Too much,” you mumble into his throat.

You stand like that for a while, both not saying anything while you try to get your breathing back under control. As the seconds trickle by, and you process the last fifteen minutes, you can’t help the laugh that bubbles up and escapes your lips.

“What?” Frank asks, and you can hear the amusement in his voice.

“That was so not what I was expecting from your visit… Not that I mind, of course,” you grin, all relaxed limbs and all.

Frank chuckles, “‘m a man full of surprises.”

You reach down to tug at your shorts and make yourself presentable again, and snicker.

“That you are,” you say and turn around in his arms to look at him, your hands coming to rest on his strong chest.

Your heart misses a beat when you see his face. He’s a bit flushed, and he’s still breathing rather deeply, but it’s his eyes that capture your full attention. They are still dark with arousal, the gaze intense and fixed on yours. Frank’s lips break out in a smirk as he catches you staring. You swallow and clear your throat as you finally take in the hard outline of his dick against your body. You’re about to open your mouth to inquire about it, but he beats you to it.

“Don’ worry ‘bout it, Sweetheart.”

“But-”

“‘m good,” he cuts in again, kissing your temple to take the sting out of his rebuttal before letting go of you.

You stay quiet and lean back against the counter as you nod vaguely. Frank takes a few steps backwards away from you, one hand coming up to rake through his hair and down his neck in a nervous gesture. He doesn’t look at you, so you decide to break the silence. You’re still floating on your high a bit and don’t want things to get uncomfortable between you two.

“So… coffee?”

You see him take a small breath and look back at you with a smile. His eyes are kind but unreadable, like they so often are when he’s thinking about something.

“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks.”

You smile and get back to grab the things you need, Frank going to sit on the couch. The silence is only broken by the coffee grinder for a small while. Your apartment is one large space with an open kitchen that gives on a big living area. A comfortable couch and a coffee table, that are framed by two armchairs, face a flat screen TV and huge floor to ceiling windows. Your bedroom with en suite bathroom is on the opposite side from the kitchen. You adore this place. From where you’re preparing the two mugs, you only have to turn your head to the left to see Frank sitting on the couch, arms thrown over the back of it, legs spread wide. He stares unblinkingly at the darkness and buildings outside your windows. You bite your lip and sigh softly. Once you’re done, one mug with strong dark coffee for Frank in one hand and in the other one with decaf because you definitely don’t need any more excitement tonight, you make your way over to him.

You walk around the back of the couch to sit at the opposite end, your back resting against the armrest. You extend your hand with Frank’s mug toward him. He blinks down at it for a second before taking the mug. He turns his upper body to face you, and you relax a little more at the half smile, half smirk that he usually wears and that he gives you now.

“Thanks,” he says gratefully and hums in pleasure when he takes his first sip.

“Anytime,” you chuckle warmly. You had been proud to find out that Frank had initially come to your Café because he had heard people talking about the quality of your coffee.

You sit there without saying anything, but this time it’s a comfortable silence, both savoring your drinks.

“So how’s Curtis?” You inquire after several long minutes.

It’s an honest question, but you also want to show Frank that you can still talk like you used to. You’ve never met Curtis, but you’ve heard a lot about him and how he has always been there for Frank. That alone means a lot in your book. You end up talking for a small amount of time, conversation becoming easier, before Frank decides to bid you goodnight. You walk him back to the door, and he envelops you in a hug that you hadn’t been expecting at this point. He kisses you on a temple like he often does, making you smile into his neck fondly before returning the kiss but on one cheek instead.

“Take care,” he rasps into your ear, before letting go of you and opening the door.

“Be careful,” you counter with raised eyebrows and a meaningful look.

Frank chuckles and nods. “I'll see what I can do.”

He walks off to the elevator, which opens for him immediately when he pushes the call button, and steps inside. He lifts a hand in a wave as the doors slide closed in front of him, and then he’s gone.

You close your door and lean against it, heaving a heavy sigh. You don’t really know what to feel right now. You’ve just had one of the most memorable orgasms of your life, but still don’t know where you stand with Frank. If you go back to how things were before tonight, that’s fine with you. You’re kind of afraid that you might have scared him off, but the way he behaved before leaving makes you feel confident enough that you haven’t. The ball is definitely in Frank’s court now. You would have to wait and see.

[sweetdispatch]

Timezone - J. Slafkovsky

Songs masterlist

song: Timezone - Måneskin

pairing: Juraj Slafkovsky x girlfriend!reader

summary: Struggles in Juraj and his girlfirend's long distance relationship

warning: none

words: 1.1k

note: changed again songs masterlist and make it shorter, hope you don't mind!

---

She and Juraj had been dating since they’re 16. They met in one of the Finnish high schools. He was trying to combine education with training. At the beginning it was tough, but when he met her, everything looked easier. She was tutoring him so he could get proper education and he was trying to teach her hockey. 

They acted like an old married couple, despite their young age. When Juraj had a debut in Liiga, her parents agreed on him moving with them so they could be closer to each other. This helped him a lot because earlier, he was all by himself in a different country and now, she had a new family with the love of his life. 

However, things got complicated when Juraj got drafted to Montreal. He had to leave her and move to a different continent and live 7 hours ahead of her timezone. She was the happiest person alive when he got into the NHL. She knew he's an incredible player and deserved this chance but was scared that they wouldn't make it as a couple. 

I call you every hour just to tell you that I’m losing my mind

First months were terrible. They couldn't get into each other's schedules. Many times, Juraj called her after a game, completely forgetting that it's the middle of the night for her. She had the same issue. She called him when she had free time but he was on training so couldn’t pick up. Slowly, their relationship became based only on text messages.

They’ve been struggling a lot. Juraj missed her voice and her face. They’ve been together for two years. He was living with her and her parents. This created a bond between them that was painful now. He was the happiest to play in the NHL but started questioning if this is worth their love. He got caught up with his thoughts that he ditched his teammates plenty of times.

She missed him too. She couldn’t watch hockey without thinking about him. It was tough because the whole city was living by this sport. She just wanted to hug him and kiss him. She knew they couldn't do anything about it, so she had to wait until she graduated to move to Montreal. Because of their distance, her grades started to fall down and her mood changed completely.

Only thing that keeps us apart 

Is a different timezone

On Christmas, her parents let her go to Montreal to be with him. It was the first time in months they could finally see each other. Juraj had training and games but still, he was coming back to her, not the empty apartment. He could picture this in the future. 

She was more than happy to be with him. She was cooking all his favorite food when Juraj was out. She took care of his whole apartment while he was planning dates and trips around Montreal. They felt like the day was too short for them. She even met his team and they could see how much happiness she’s bringing to him. 

After New Year’s Eve, she had to come back home. It was a hurtful time for them. For the past two weeks, they’ve been inseparable and now they have to come back to their jobs and live in different countries. She was crying all day when she had to pack but Juraj was repeating to her that only timezone is the issue when the love and care is still there. 

So fuck what I’m dreaming, this fame has no meaning

I’m coming home

In March, she had a crisis. She felt like she’s failing at school, failing her family and friends but most importantly, she felt like she’s failing Juraj. She hasn't spoken much, tried to keep it to herself but one day, she completely broke. She called Juraj to tell him how she’s feeling. At first, she didn’t want to bother him but she knew that he’s her safe space.

It broke Juraj’s heart when he heard what she’s been dealing with. Suddenly, hockey hadn't been his priority but she was. He was close to saying to the coach that he needs a personal break. He wanted to fly to her and cuddle her. He spoke with her parents about it but they convinced him to stay in Montreal. 

As much as they wanted him there to help their daughter, they didn’t want him to risk his career, especially that it was his rookie year. Juraj asked them to keep him updated with how she’s feeling, knowing that she won’t tell him the whole truth. It was a rough period of time for him.

And I don’t give a shit about the contracts that I signed

After the season was over, Juraj flew back to Finland to be with his girlfriend. He didn’t care that he had to stay for one more week to do media duties, he just wanted to be with her. He knew that he’s risking his place in the team by his actions but he tried to justify his actions. No one on the team said anything. They understood why he did it. 

However, the media team told Juraj that he can’t do that and he needs to tell them this earlier so they can find an alternative. Again, he didn’t really care. He hated doing media and if this was the thing keeping him away from his girlfriend, he’s not gonna be bothered by it. 

Now I know you’re sleeping, where I’m supposed to be in 

When summer was over, Juraj had to be back in Montreal. Still, he couldn’t go there with her. She was in last year of high school but after the season, they could be together. This thought was keeping him sane. The whole three months they had were incredible. They were everywhere together. Even when he was meeting his home friends, she was attached to his hips.

Every evening, Juraj imagined her waiting for him at his place but he knew she’s asleep in her bed. He wanted to call her and talk about his day but with her final year, he didn't want to bother her. When he was going to bed, he wished that she was laying next to him. She was his home and he missed her like crazy. 

One more season and she’s gonna be with me, that’s what Juraj was repeating to himself every day. 

She got so used to his presence during holidays that she felt like she couldn't sleep by herself. Juraj, laying in her bed and cuddling her to sleep placing soft kisses on her face and shoulders was something she was missing the most. She knew she needed to sleep but without him it was difficult.

Last year and I’m gonna be with him, that’s what she was repeating to herself every day.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being condescending towards an asexual kid in GSA?

🙃🏳️‍🌈 to find later

Long post so buckle up.

I (17, they/it/he) am one of three co-leaders of my school’s GSA, along with R (18, she/her) and N (17, he/him). All three of us are openly bi, and I’m also openly trans and (most importantly) very loudly aromantic. We’re all in 12th grade now but we were leaders last year (in 11th grade) too. The school/GSA is small enough that all four grades (9–12, so around 13–18 years old) are in the same GSA, there’s no separate upper grade and lower grade groups. We also have two advisors, both cis queer teachers; and some younger queer faculty members also join sometimes for formal events. We take turns running events during club time, such as fun crafts or watching music videos. Sometimes we also do educational stuff or documentaries, including having teachers come in to facilitate discussions.

I’ve been planning (since early December) to run a two part series of discussions about asexuality and aromanticism (separate discussions of each). I really just wanted to do one day about aromanticism, but R said that if I did that, people would derail it and just talk about asexuality anyways, which both N and our advisors also agreed made sense. So, it’s two days, and the asexuality one is first so that the aromanticism one can be closer to Aromantic Spectrum Awareness Week (ASAW).

There’s a girl in GSA, let’s call her A (16, she/her), who’s in 11th grade. She’s very socially awkward and if someone points out that she’s accidentally said something rude or offensive she’ll make a big deal out of not knowing and generally derail the conversation. Also, two years ago A made a ton of “jokes” about me and my little sibling (16MtF) being “secretly dating.” When I asked her (politely at first) to stop, she said she was just joking around, and kept doing it. I asked her again and also asked the theatre teacher and school counselor for help, and eventually she did stop. But A kept following me around and trying to be friends with me, and I was super uncomfortable to the point that I asked the school counselor to facilitate a conversation between A and I so that I could ask her to fucking stop. It somewhat worked. Now she still keeps trying to start conversations with me in the hallways and such, but I just brush her off or ignore her.

The one place I can’t do that is during GSA. Since I’m a leader, I have to be civil to everyone and actually talk to people (R, N, and I set norms at the start of the year during our planning meetings). A is asexual but not aromantic, and today she showed up like 5 minutes into lunch (cafeteria lines are annoying) and loudly asked if she was late. We weren’t doing anything in GSA today, just chilling. At some point during the meeting I announced casually that next week we’d be discussing asexuality, and then the week after that we’d talk about aromanticism, which leads nicely into ASAW during February break. When I said this, A immediately said that she would be extra ace that week [during ASAW]. I was like, “during aromantic spectrum awareness week?!?!” in the same tone of that “during pride month?!?!” meme. She looked like someone had just given her an F on the most important test of the year and said she hadn’t known.

I also made a comment about how there’s way more openly aspec people at our school than at most schools, and N said that maybe the presence of role models is part of that (clear subtext: he was referring to me). I said pretty loudly (more people could hear) that it was kinda funny that I’m the “ace role model” when I’m literally not asexual. A looked super lost and confused at this, and I think she might’ve thought I was ace, even though I’m super open about not being ace, and have told her directly more than once.

Here’s where the potential assholery comes into play. There’s an ad for PrEP that was fairly common on the back covers of theatre playbills in the past year. The ad shows a Black man dressed in ripped leggings with fishnets, shiny knee-length heeled leather boots, and some sort of white leather harness, doing a bridge pose with one leg extended upwards so that the “r” in PrEP is resting on the sole of the boot. The ad has a bright red background and text that says “you cast of PrEP options is changing” along with a small QR code and website link. The pose is somewhat provocative, but not out of place on a playbill for an all-ages show.

During GSA, A was saying that she thought the ad was bad, because of the leather being “fetish gear” and “weird” (basically the same arguments people use to say that gay people shouldn’t be allowed in public). I told A that there’s nothing wrong with someone wearing leather, and she said that “it’s fetish gear and that’s disgusting and degenerate and just bad advertising!”

I explained calmly, like I would to a child (although I probably wouldn’t talk about this topic with a child), that PrEP is a medicine that people take if they anticipate having sex with someone who’s HIV-positive, so it’s okay that the ad is somewhat suggestive. She seemed to accept that, but still said that the leather was weird, and the ad should’ve shown “a diverse group of people getting pills at a pharmacy” instead, because “fetish gear” was too much.

I asked if she thought that all leather clothing was inherently fetishistic, to which A said yes, and then I asked, “do you know that people can’t just choose fetishes?”

She hadn’t known that, but she still said the ad was too sexual. I pointed out that it was a fairly well-targeted advertisement, using theatre references, but maybe A was not part of the target demographic. I also said that sometimes outfits are just hot without there needing to be any fetishes involved, which she didn’t refute, and that even if it was a fetish, that wouldn’t make it inherently “bad” or “degenerate” at all.

A said that she still didn’t like it, and I told her that she was entitled to have whatever feelings she wanted to have, but that doesn’t mean the advertisement itself is a problem.

Another person (17, he/him) called out “[OP], what do you think about kink at pride?” in a sort of nonchalant way, so I walked over while saying “i’m pro–kink at pride.” The conversation eventually moved in other directions, and then club ended and we had to go to our next classes.

TL;DR: given my position of power and responsibility as a GSA leader, AITA for being kinda condescending towards an ace person who’s 2 years younger than me because she was being very sex-negative about an ad for PrEP?

What are these acronyms?

[obey-me-disaster]

What do you think would happen if MC respawns at a different location after the lesson 16 death? Like purgatory hall then MC somehow convinces Simeon, Luke, Solomon, Diavolo and Barbatos to hide their resurrection from the brothers. MC stays at purgatory hall and takes online classes for the rest of the exchange program.

The whole time the brothers think MC is permanently dead but what if MC slips up and accidentally likes a selfie by Asmo on devilgram would that raise any suspicion? How would the brothers react to MC being alive the whole time?

Please, MC liking selfies while pretending to be dead is so fucking funny like: 'I need to keep a low profile...anyway let me appreciate one of Asmo's photos on devilgram, where all the demon bros could see'

Warning: mentions of death

Demon brothers x gn!MC headcanons

MC hides the fact that they are alive

They don't know exactly what happened after Belphegor got them. All they could remember was pain, a voice talking into their head and then complete darkness. When they woke up they were in the Purgatory Hall with Simeon, Solomon and Luke surrounding them.

While not being able to remember the last moments before blacking out, MC was smart enough to put two and two together and realize what happened. Belphegor killed them. After everything they have done for him, he took their life away without hesitating.

When Solomon and Simeon started to question them, MC decided to keep the truth away. They made up an excuse about needing to hide somewhere, and the two angels and the sorcerer were all to happy to let MC stay with them.

Their plan was to stay hidden until the exchange program would end, but of course old habits die hard, so without thinking too much they liked one of Asmo's posts. That's when all the demon brothers found out and all hell broke loose.

Lucifer

He would be furious at MC for hiding themself, tho he can't blame them, at the Purgatory trio, Diavolo and Barbatos for helping them keep the secret but most importantly, he would be upset with himself.

He would fly straight to the purgatory hall and demand some explanation. Why did they hide, why couldn't they talk with him. He keep thinking of the fact that if MC didn't slip and post that selfie, he would have never found out they were alive.

A part of himself greatly blames himself because if he would have put more effort in keeping them out of the attic, none of this would have happened, hell, if he was a good brother from the start everything would have been ok.

On the outside he seems angry but on the inside he is full of mixed emotions: happiness because they're alive, sadness because MC hid this from him, anger at the others for hiding this from him. He doesn't even want to think about the fact that if Asmo didn't see their like, that he would have never been reunited with them.

He will have a long talk with MC, whatever they want to or not.

Mammon

THIS MAN IS CRUSHED. He thought MC has died. He held their 'corpse' in his arms. He has been a shadow of who he was all of this time only to find out that MC has been chilling in the Purgatory Hall??

He might not visit them for a while. He is way too conflicted. He is in denial about the fact that they hid this secret away from him. He was their first man, you two weren't supposed to hold this kind of secrets from one another.

He would probably go on about: "I am not friends with any humans that would lie to me like that, I don't know anyone like that!" flashbacks to season 1 of the OG obey me

He has been blaming himself for not being able to protect them this whole time. He probably had nightmares about their death.

Once he sees them he will have to hold himself back from rushing to them and embracing them. He still wants to put up a front, but when the front finally cracks and hugs them, he will be all to relieved to feel them be alive once again in his arms.

Leviathan

His self hatred went through the roof. He would keep blaming himself for not doing anything. He didn't get to hold them in their dying moments, all he could do is watch. He felt like he truly lost the only person that could fully understand him.

When he found out they were alive he nearly rushed to the Purgatory Hall but stopped himself. If MC hid themself from him that means they don't want to see him right? They are disappointed in him for letting them die.

He spirals down so bad other brothers had to snap him out of it. He would probably send them messages or call them while crying. He didn't feel quite ready to face them yet.

He probably will watch anime/play games from a distance with them for a while. He wants to go see them so badly but fears they would be disappointed in him.

After a while he would probably hype himself with some 'The lord of shadows would never leave his Henry behind'.

Satan

He throws a little temper tantrum that destroys multiple rooms in the House of Lamentation. There are way too many emotions for him to deal with it at the same time to the point he feels like exploding.

He has felt useless ever since their 'death'. He could see the condition MC was in, he could see that they had no way to live, he could see all the injuries and knew how much they hurt but even with all of that, he could not think of a way to save them. All the learning and reading was for nothing in that moment.

He probably knew that MC had good reasons to remain 'dead' but it didn't mean he was not hurt. If it wasn't for them liking Asmo's post by accident they would have went back to the human world, never to be seen again.

Another one that waits a little bit, but that's because he wants to be as calm as possible, they had to deal with an angry demon, he is sure they don't want to deal with another.

Once he finally decides to see them, he takes them on a walk to talk things through. Only if they want to of course

During their walk he will insist of having a detailed talk about how both of them they were feeling, there was no more wrath he could feel at the moment

Asmodeus

The moment he saw MC liking his post he went wild. He probably started to text them like crazy. If they didn't respond he would call Solomon, Simeon, Barbatos, anyone he could think of.

He ran straight to his brothers to tell them about the fact that MC was alive and was probably one of the firsts that went to see them.

Once he found out they were alive it was like something awakened inside of him and he felt all the longing he held towards MC come back in full force.

After telling his brothers he is going to the Purgatory Hall to see MC and scream at Solomon for hiding something so big from him.

He 100% cries to MC about missing them and does not care his make up will be ruined.

Since his brothers need more time to calm down, he will take his sweet time catching up with MC and checking in on how they are doing if they will let him

Beelzebub

Another one with a lot of guilt. He couldn't protect Lilith from death, he couldn't protect Belphie from his hatred and he couldn't protect MC either.

He is hurt by the fact that they've decided to hide from everyone at the House of Lamentation but he can't hold it against them

One of the first to go see them. He wants to see with his own eyes that they are truly alive and well, or as well as they could be after dying

Would try to hug them but stops himself thinking it would be a bad idea. The last time a demon has offered MC a hug they got unalived. If MC does accept his hug, they will be carried around for a while since Beel would refuse to let them out of his grasp

He had been guilt-ridden since their 'death'. His eating habits have been all over the place. From not being able to eat to going on rampages due to painful emptiness in his stomach. Just seeing MC being alive made Beel's hunger go back to its normal self.

Belphegor

Because not only did the bros think MC was dead for good but because MC was not there to repair his relationship with his brothers, Belphegor is pretty much secluded from his brothers.

Barbatos probably still told him about the whole Lilith thing. He had to deal with the fact that not only was his hate misplaced for centuries but also with the fact that he killed someone he really got attached with, someone his brothers got attached with.

He had no one to blame but himself this time, had no one to help him manage all of these feelings, he pretty much is on his own. Sure, his brothers are still there but their relationship is strained as fuck.

When he finds out MC is actually alive he does see it as his chance to make it better but he doesn't go to see them. Not straight away at least. He is smart, he knows why they probably wanted to remain 'dead'. He is the reason for that.

He will give them time, he will let his brothers have their turn first, even if he doesn't like it, because he knows that's the least he could do for all of them. He only wishes he was not so blinded by anger and resentment, especially since it was so misplaced.

[chukys-mouthguard]

maybe smutty prompt 16 w mat barzal too?

Prompt: “You just can’t stay away from me for too long, huh?”

Note: I kind of liked the idea of this and felt like it had the possibility of turning into a longer version? So definitely let me know if anyone wants to see that!

Warning: sexual content

“Well, if not a dance, how about a drink?”

A sigh escaping your lips as you clearly were too nice. Not being able to turn down someone without caring about hurting their feelings or coming across like a bitch.

“Look, I’m not interested okay? Go try it on someone else.”

Cursing under your breath you ran a hand through your hair. Wondering if someone was playing a cruel prank on you that all of these below average guys had been hitting on you.

Tonight was supposed to be a night to get your mind off of him. Your go to booty call that also was the biggest asshole you’d ever met. For months you’ve been telling yourself to give it up and find something new. But so far all of the guys who were trying their luck with you weren’t anything compared to Mat.

Not to mention, he just so happened to end up at the same club as you. What were the odds of that?

“Fuck me…”

Cursing to yourself you tossed back a shot before heading out onto the dance floor. The countless shots and drinks kicking in as you danced along to the music. Swaying your hips as you sang along to the words blaring throughout the building.

Soon enough a hand snaking around your waist. He had found you and was making sure he didn’t let you leave with someone else.

The two of you couldn’t deny the chemistry you had, most importantly the sexual chemistry. Your hands exploring every inch of one another while your ass was practically glued to his crotch.

Not feeling like exposing anyone to the acts you two were in desperate need of, you both quickly headed for the door. Mathew pulling you quickly behind him as he led the way to his car. Adjusting the seats before climbing into the backseat, patting his lap with a cocky grin. Signaling for you to join him.

“You just can’t stay away from me for too long huh?”

A hand finding its place entangled with your hair as he brought you in for a kiss, the other gripping your ass. Sinking into his lap as you began to grind against his hard on that was growing in his pants, you elicited a low groan from him.

“Mmm, last time I checked, you came onto the floor and found me.”

Smirking cockily down at him he let out a soft chuckle. “Yeah, only after I saw you turning down every bum that was in that place.” His hand slipping under your dress as his fingers pushed your thong to the side. A surprised moan escaping your lips as he smiled up at you, dipping his fingers into your growing wetness.

“And we both know, none of them could get you this wet. Definitely wouldn’t be able to fuck you like I can.”

Pulling you in for a rough kiss, his tongue entangled with yours as he fought for dominance, wanting to be sure you knew he’d always be the best you’d ever had.

“Definitely couldn’t kiss you like I can.”

“Okay Mat, I get it, please just shut the hell up and fuck me already!”

His smirk went from cocky to lustful as your words struck a chord in him.

“With pleasure.”

[starcrossedreaders]

how about a leon x gothic y/n? bc i always wondered how he would react if y/n wears chokers and other stuff like that

Author's Note: I love this idea, thanks for requesting it! I'm going to do this in headcanon form/ drabble.

Warnings: There is NSFW prompts, MINORS DNI (16+) AFTER THE CUT!!!

Leon is defiantly a little goth/emo himself so I feel as if a goth significant other would almost be his type.

Re2 Leon is the type to say "I want a big titty goth girl" So when you came into his life he was a little caught off guard.

He loves loves LOVES your style. The choker you have today? Expect him to drool over you. Those big ass heels you love to wear? He will praise your every step.

MUSIC! He would rave about the new Deftones album with you, maybe even get tickets to any band that comes to town that he feels you would enjoy.

He loves watching you do your make-up every day, he is absolutely memorized by the way your wrist flicks a perfect line every time, or the big bold eyeshadow you do. It makes him want to show you off at all times.

He would also help you dye your hair if that is something you do. Sunday is hair day, black dye would paint his hands and maybe a little on his cheek. When it's all done he'll smile and kiss you "My beautiful girl."

Expect him to sit behind you while you shop for clothes on your laptop. "I think you would look so gorgeous

n that."

Getting ready to go out for the day had you excited. Your make-up turned out just right, your hair actually worked with you today, the skirt and top you had on today went together perfectly, and most importantly, you had gotten two new chokers. Walking out of the bathroom Leon could hear the click of your boots and you walked down to the living room.

"Which one do you think would go best?" You held up two black chokers, one with a dangling dagger and the other one was a solid black choker with a few black chains attached to it. When worn it would look like a necklace.

"Hmmm, What about my hand?" Putting your hands down you crocked your head and gave him the look.

He laughed a little bit before he gave you a real answer, "That one." He pointed at one with the chains.

You smiled at him as you skipped down the few steps, "Mind putting it on for me?"

"Of course darling," He held his hand out for the jewelry as you turned around and moved your hair to the side of your neck.

His cold hands sent shivers down your spine as they grazed your neck. You heard a small click before you felt a kiss as the base of your neck. Turning around you looked at him, "How do it look?"

"Beautiful, you are so beautiful."

. . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ NSFW CONTENT BELOW THIS CUT ࿐ྂ

He would love to just fuck you with nothing but a choker on, maybe even a collar if you're up for that.

your fish tights drive him WILD, get ready for him to rip them open while he's crashing his hips in with your.

Knee high socks would also drive him wild, expect to keep those on too.

He loves nothing more than to watch your make-up run down your face as you cry from pleasure.

Don't think he wouldn't want you to top either.

He would love nothing more than to be tied up calling you mommy whilst he begs for you to touch him.

He might even wear your chokers during this time too.

You might be able to get him on his knees to eat you out while you wear your big boots and fish tights.

"Please Mommy, I'll do anything, just please touch me."

[heartsgettingwiser62]

Ok so I think I may be losing my mind over some plastic wrap lmao

But PLEASE look at this and tell me I'm not crazy and this is actually weird:

Karen I'm begging you to explain to me why the fuck do you have 2 plastic wrap packages from different brands UPSIDE DOWN in your kitchen cabinet. PLS.

Is it just me?? Is this completely normal and I'm losing my mind over nothing??? I mean probably but WHY ARE THEY THE ONLY THING THAT'S UPSIDE DOWN AND PLUS THEY'RE COMPLETELY LEGIBLE

So since I've spent the last 3 hours looking at fucking plastic wrap let me share some thoughts:

First of all, to structure this mess in some way, let's look at the dates. First, at the Reynolds Wrap invention date. Bc PLS LOOK AT THIS

Oh. Looks like it was created in 1947. Do you guys wanna know who was also born in 1947??

I. Uh. What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK.

"It could be a coincidence" Dude I KNOW I'm just doing this bc I've spent hours researching about plastic wrap and I NEED to tell someone ok y'all are my therapists ksjdalkj

Now the Glad Wrap was founded in 1963, and some pages say that Kali was born in 1963, others in 1964, and others that in s2 she's 16/17 so there's no way she was born back then; so idk about this date.

Now let's go with the ads, starting with Glad Wrap bc it's by far the most interesting one.

I've seen multiple commercials but none of them seemed to have anything meaningful EXCEPT FOR THIS ONE WHICH IS MAKING ME ABSOLUTELY LOSE MY MIND:

Am I crazy. Do I seriously need to sleep. Or does that look an awful lot like Karen Wheeler??? Especially here in s4????

I mean, the hairstyle and the blond hair, but much more importantly, the outfit.

Like?????? I mean I get that it's 80's white wealthy woman fashion, fine, but that's a whole load of coincidences???

Now for the rest of the ad, the plastic wrap thingy that attacks the woman is pretty interesting, as well as the clock in the background for Vecna reasons. Regarding similarities with the Wheeler's kitchen, I could only catch due to the low quality the bowl with apples and the phone on the wall (you can't see it on the screenshot but there's a phone behind Mike). I couldn't really find anything about the strawberries, but if y'all know something pls tell me

As a bonus, the ad is from 1987, which as far as I know is when everyone guesses s5 is gonna take place in

Now there's no much to see in the Reynolds Wrap ads, except maybe this one:

(Ignore the yt bar lmao) Although not as much as the previous one, the woman's outfit in that frame does remind me of this Karen s4 look, the same look she has on that scene the damn plastic wrap came from.

Ik this is all probably meaningless, buuuut do you guys want more meaningless shit??

Let's go back to the Glad Wrap ad. The slogan for that specific ad is "Don't get mad. Get glad." Welp, Vecna's a fan of this last word bc out of 9 times it's said in s5, 4 are said by him.

Let's take a quick look at the most interesting time he says that word. We're in Vecna's monologue in chp 7, and in the same scene just some minutes before, he says this:

"I could not do that. I could not close off my mind and join in the madness. I could not pretend. And I realized, I didn't have to."

Let's remember the slogan: "Don't get mad. Get glad."

Then, a couple minutes later, in the same scene:

"And soon, others were born. You were born. And I am so glad you were, Eleven. So very glad."

Now literally two seconds before this last line, this shot was happening:

And. Um. Do you. Do you guys know what's used for tattoos. Um.

Plastic wrap???

Do y'all get why I said I've a hundred percent lost my mind sjdfisdjfil

Ok so. That was it. Anyways I couldn't find anything else important about the rest of items in the kitchen shelve. If y'all have a better explanation as to WHY TF are those plastic wrap packages upside down and perfectly legible, PLS TELL ME. This said, goodbye