#I acknowledge this is rich as hell for me to say this because I have two ex boyfriends but

[kennyomegasweave]

I'm glad BL shows are actually acknowledging bisexuality now, in name and action (by not making it a big deal that they all have ex girlfriends), but it's weird as fuck to me that we're still not getting many straight up gays for whatever reason. Why do they all have ex girlfriends? We've finally progressed from the evil ex girlfriends to the cool ex-girlfriends but like. Can we get some straight up gay men? I'm just asking for a friend.

[zriasstuff]

True words- Mattheo Riddle x reader

Fluff drabble, Mattheo comforting you <3

The one thing Mattheo hated more than anything in the world was seeing the people he loved being hurt. And anytime someone mouthed off about either his brother, his friends, or you, he’d be the first to step in. You always had no doubts that he would defend you, no matter what. But this time may be different.

The person closest to him, his own brother Tom, had said something extremely hurtful to your face. It’s the way Tom is. He doesn’t acknowledge when he’s hurting others, most of the time at least. But even if he doesn’t care, you do. And what he said to you in class today cut too deep for you to brush off.

During him scolding you for not cutting things the right way, he told you that all you could ever achieve was to marry rich, since you have no other talents to show. So, basically he insulted you, and pointed out that you’d be more than lucky if Mattheo decided to marry you, since he’s rich.

At first you decided not to tell Mattheo, and tried to just forget it. But as time went on, and as you spent everyday with his friend group, which included Tom, it got too difficult to just brush off. His words kept bugging you everyday for no good reason. So, one night you decide to finally tell him.

It was already late at night, and you were both lying on his bed in his dorm. You try to find the right timing to address your issue, which is more difficult than you thought. But just as he was saying something about Tom being filterless you decide to spit it out.

“He certainly is to a lot of people”, you try to steer the conversation in a noticeably serious tone.

“Is something wrong?” Mattheo can always tell when there’s something on your mind, even if you don’t say it directly.

“Well it happened a few days ago, he probably already forgot, but he told me that I am talentless and can probably only rely on marrying rich”

You see the shocked expression on his face, immediately turning to worry and he tells you without hesitation that he hopes you know you’re so much more than that.

“So you don’t think so?” Perhaps it’s because you tend to be a little self conscious, but you can’t help but think that maybe, to some degree it’s true.

“Why in the hell would I think that?”. Behind his shock, he even sounds hurt because you believed that he thinks that little of you. Now, you definitely know that he doesn’t, but you just had a tiny bit of worry. And after all, it was what his own brother said.

“Listen darling, you always care for others. Sometimes even to the point where you tend to not take care of yourself. You never judge. You’re a great listener, and you’re funny, and you’re witty in your own way, and you’re just about the most lovely person I know. So why should you care what Tom thinks? He’s the dark cloud that hates everyone anyway”

And he’s right. Why should you care what Tom thinks? What your boyfriend just told you means the world to you. From now on you’d not let stuff like that bother you anymore.

As the sky turns darker, you eventually find yourself cuddling with Mattheo, falling asleep together on his bed, leaving behind all the worries you had.

[bloodymiso]

★ dude, its just groceries — various x gn reader

how do they buy groceries? do they go to the convenience store every weekend and buy in small batches? or do they go to a big grocery like every 5 months and hoard?

notes: this has been in my drafts for a while lmao | mentions of food(duh), mention of a doctor’s appointment, one or two swears

— in small batches

convenience store lunches, little trips every saturday, small fridge in a small apartment—that was their life. coming home after a long day of work, popping by the tiny store outside your home to grab a sandwich or two and boom! dinner was that easy. living with a little store outside their home was literal heaven.

“awh shucks, we’re out of pudding..” they pout as they turn to you on the bed, upside down and legs on the headboard.

“do we even have anything for dinner?” you ask, turning your head to them as they shook their head. you both pause, a knowing look evident on both of your faces.

“convenience store dinner! last one there pays!” you say as both of you shot up, racing to get to the door as you fought to open it. they sneaked under your arms and through the door , once you got out, they were halfway to the elevator. (or to the store.)

“you little—augh!”

VENTI, ga ming, kazuha, kaveh, GOROU, hu tao, & heizou

— lmao what’s groceries?

uh..doing their own groceries? hell no! they usually just order online. if they’re rich enough, maybe their assistants will do it for them. either way, you have never seen this brat even hold a shopping bag.

“what the..oh my god we’re out of rice!” you said in shock, gawking at the empty cabinet in your kitchen you often held for rice.

“oh really?” they acknowledged before quickly calling someone on their phone. “hey man, could you get us some rice? we’re out lol.”

like..bitch what?

CHILDE, scaramouche, DILUC, furina, navia, AYATO & NINGGUANG

— they hoard

“hey, let’s go to the grocery.” and you end up coming home with 6 bags chock-full of food and supplies to last you pretty much half a year. they were always ready for something bad to happen, an apocalypse, or maybe a shortage in supplies and sure, that was a good thing, but not when they were so strict about it..

wanna get spinach for some lasagna? nope, but we have kale in the fridge! some spices for curry? nope, but we have pepper! it was frustrating, really.

eventually they gave up and joined you on small grocery trips here and there. they had to admit, it was nice only carrying one or two bags home.

“see? now whenever you’re craving something i can just make it.” “don’t mention my cravings.”

WRIOTHESLEY, arlecchino, arataki itto (hear me out), cyno & EULA

— in scheduled visits

“can we go to the grocery today?” you ask, bored out of your mind as you placed down your phone. “we aren’t scheduled for a visit till friday though..” they say, as if replying to a question about a doctor’s appointment.

you didn’t know if it was because of their almost insane sense of orderliness, or because it was how they went for groceries with their parents when they were younger, but god did they stick to their schedule. it was a good way to make sure you wouldn’t use too much money in a week but sometimes, boredom takes the best of both of you.

“fuck it let’s go to the grocery.” they say, standing up from their chair as you stopped tapping your finger on their desk. the shock on your face made it seem like you just figured out the answer to the bonus question on a math exam, but you shrugged it off and reluctantly joined.

ALHAITHAM, GANYU, keqing, kuki shinobu, and.. yeah

[thezombieprostitute]

Zombie, what would you do if you were stuck in a room with Ransom for 24 hours?

That entirely depends: do we know we're being let out after 24 hours?

If so, we'd probably do our best to ignore each other the whole time. Just stay in our respective corners and barely acknowledge each other.

But if we don't know? Hmm....

Warnings: Claustrophobic setting, Ransom being an asshole

Word Count: ~1.1k

The elevator lurches, making you and the only other passenger stumble. The lights flicker and you feel a lump in your throat, scared about what the flickering indicates. You know it's almost impossible to actually be killed in an elevator malfunction, but that lizard part of your brain won't listen.

"What the fuck is this?" The other passenger is quick to steady himself.

"Elevator trouble," you can't help but blurt out.

"Well thanks for stating the obvious!" He glares at you as he pulls out his cell phone. "Gotta call the fucking fire department. Gonna be fucking late to my appointment. Trapped in here with an idiot."

"Emergency phone," you quietly say while pointing to the standard, big, red 'Emergency' button.

He huffs as he puts his phone away and presses the button. He snipes at the operator for several minutes before finally giving in and admitting defeat. It's gonna be hours before help arrives.

You set down your cardigan and sit. Checking your phone you see that the signal is weak. Thankfully you've got some books downloaded.

The other passenger, however, starts pacing and seems to be working himself up more and more. You're not trying to listen in but he's not being very quiet. You just stick to your improvised seat and try to read.

Eventually the man practically flops onto the elevator floor. He looks at you, "so what's your deal?"

Startled out your reading you shake your head, "what?"

He sighs, "I said, what's. Your. Deal."

"Just, just trying to get to work."

"Let me guess, accountant? You're definitely too big to be a secretary. You don't dress poorly enough to be an IT person. But you're definitely boring enough to be a numbers person."

You raise an eyebrow, "you must be one of Mr. Barber's clients. He tends to represent rich assholes."

The man laughs at that, "you'd be right! So you work for Barber?"

"Paralegal for Mr. Barber, yes."

"Hugh Drysdale," he tells you.

You wrinkle your brow in confusion, "I know there's a Ransom Drysdale on the schedule. I guess I was right that it's a fake name."

"No," he chides. "Ransom is my middle name and it's what I usually go by. Except for the help." He gestures to you at the last word. "The help calls me Hugh, my first name."

You bite back a retort. He's one of your boss's clients. You have to at least pretend to be nice.

"How about you share some of your food? I missed breakfast and could use something to settle my stomach." You give him another confused look and he rolls his eyes. "You're on your way to work. Even if you didn't pack your own lunch, a girl your size definitely has food in her purse or something."

"I was running late and didn't have time to pack anything," you tell him. "I figured I could get a few things from the vending machine."

"You've gotta be shitting me," he whines. "Well, you're no good to me. Might as well go back to your book."

You nod and go back to reading. You've barely finished a paragraph when Drysdale starts talking to you again.

"What kind of crap are you reading, anyways?" You tell him the title and author and he scoffs. "Seriously, why the hell would you read that crap?"

"Because it's more entertaining than this conversation," you calmly tell him, trying to read.

"I call bullshit." He proceeds to go on a tangent about the decline of literary quality over the past decade. Sure, he makes a few good points, but you're really not interested in his better-than-you opinions.

Every time you try to go back to reading he starts talking again. It's like he can't handle not having attention and it's really grating on your nerves. Especially when he repeats his question about whether or not you have food. You really wish you did if only so it could occupy him for a minute or two.

But then you realize something. "Do you talk a lot when you're scared?"

He stops mid-sentence and glares. "What the hell makes you think I'm scared? I don't get scared!"

"So you're an attention whore? Because why else would you keep talking? It's either that you need the attention or that you're trying to keep yourself calm by talking about other things."

“Don't try to psychoanalyze me,” he scolds. “You don't get to tell me about me based on a few minutes.”

“It's been several hours by now,” you point out. “And you were trying to figure out 'my deal' based on my looks within the first few minutes.”

“Yes, but I'm the client, you're the help. I talk, you listen. I ask, you tell.”

“Aww, does baby need a nap?” You give him a fake pout. You're on your last nerve and this asshole isn't making it any better. He glares at you but you're not having it. “Listen, we're stuck here for who knows how long. Either we try to get along, or we ignore each other because being annoying won't help anyone.”

“We are getting along,” he counters. “Until you started being a bitch.”

“Since we've been trapped, you've made fun of my looks, my job, my reading interests and repeatedly told me my status is beneath you. How is that getting along?”

You see his angry arrogance drop for a moment when he says, “you were actually listening to me.” Before you can comment he shakes his head and the arrogance is back. “Look, I'm not having a good time, of course. Neither of us are, but I'm not scared and I'm NOT an attention whore.”

“Then you'll have no problem if I go back to reading.”

“Nope. You go ahead and I'll be quiet so you can have your precious reading time.”

“Thank you, Mr. Drysdale.”

You let yourself get back into your story. You're so enthralled you don't notice Drysdale's foot tapping incessantly. His nibbling at his fingers. His near constant glancing at the emergency phone.

“Okay, fine.” His voice cuts through and you stop your reading. “I'm...I'm scared. I know, statistically, chances of death or injury are very small. But I'm still...”

“Thank you for being honest,” you tell him. You put your phone in your pocket. “You mentioned that you arrived in a BMW? How do keep that car maintained? I imagine parts are difficult to come by.”

Drysdale perks up and starts talking a-mile-a-minute about the cost of his car but how and why it's worth all of it. The entire time he's talking, the tension in the elevator seems to lessen. You hope for rescue soon but at least being trapped is no longer a complete nightmare.

Tagging: @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @ronearoundblindly

[1-jar-of-stars]

Eurovision (I thought y'all was boycotting that shit because of how it has spent YEARS siding with Azerbaijan and Israel, perpetuators of on-going genocide) and The Met Gala (a glorified fashion show that is genuinely just a display of celebrity from the upper class) are trending in the number 2 and 3 spots on Tumblr at the time of me typing this. Where is the fucking noise about Eurovision taking focus off of Palestine? Why are there people in the tags still watching that show?? And The Met Gala is trending, as it does every single year. But that's CERTAINLY not being called out for taking focus off of Palestine. I've seen bloggers talk about how the Met was their ''little treat'' to distract from the on-going horrors, but Kendrick murdering Aubrey (exposing him as a child predator who associates with documented sex offenders) is somehow '''taking focus away from Palestine'''? Why is it that you think this is different from the Met doing the same thing? And why are they not acknowledging the severity of what's being discussed here (which is why it took so many tracks to fully level the accusations) and instead treating it like some superficial cat fight between rich people. If anything should be treated like superficial celebrity nonsense, it's The Meta Gala.

One is honestly an unimportant showing, the other is a Pulitzer Prize holder exposing damning secrets and sickening allegations against someone with a track record of being inappropriate with women and minors. But as soon as the '''beef''' escaped containment on Black Tumblr, everybody and their colonizing mamas wanted to come out the woodwork and 1.) talk about shit they know nothing about because they don't fuck with black music and 2.) act like this ''beef'' is just ''millionaires angrily writing at each other'' and not someone FINALLY addressing the years of verifiable allegations of misconduct on someone who is a culture vulture imitating the worst parts of black american lifestyle. ''They Not Like Us''? More like ''This Shit's Not For You''. Not only are they talking out the side of their neck up and down the tags, they're being racist as hell about it. If you don't know enough to treat this shit with the gravity it deserves AS AN OUTSIDER LOOKING IN, you need to shut up and sit down. Too many people on the ''white fujoshi website'' have unacknowledged and unpacked racism that bleeds over into everything they interact with and it's SO damn tiring to see.

Either give the same grace to this as you're giving to the Met Gala and whatever week-long trends on Tumblr that have appeared over the past 8 months, or stay out of black business. Period. I'm ready to start biting fr

ANON YOURE SO REAL!!! ALL DAY PEOPLE HAVE BEEN SAYING KENDRICK IS A DISTRACTION JUST FOR THEM TO BAIL ON THE EUROVISION PLAN

AND IT’S DIFFERENT??? HOW???

[pinkyjulien]

I did not expect hostility over my Flat Chest mod, so I'll half acknowledge it and kill some of the assumption before they take roots in other people's minds

No, I did not make this mod *because* I refuse to support Na's flat chest mod

Initial Mod idea was a working "binder" for Fem, something you'd equip to flatten the chest- like a real life binder, basically. It's part of my To-Do list of June, for Pride

The mod evolved as I got more ideas, I also started working on a body replacer, it's basically ready to ship as well, but I decided against it; not to step on toes and causing confusion with two "flat chest" body mods, knowing there is also another one in the work from a fellow modder

(the binders themselves will come much later, and will be available for both fem and masc body frames!)

Again, the mod started as a "binder"- I mentioned it multiple times, either in servers where I started sharing the idea, and in the tags of my mod post

"Binders" are not costumes. They are gender affirming aid, something a lot of person use; I've made a couple of "wearable" / "switchable" body parts mods in the past already, including a trans masc vagina, I really hope you don't see this as a costume as well?

In the universe of Cyberpunks, implants and synth skin are used by everyone, for all kind of purpose; GNC people, trans people and gender-fluid people would probably use implants and cyberware to sculpt themselves, feel comfortable in their body

Who's to say some rich citizen wouldn't have some fancy switchable body pieces- hell it's even canon in game, Mr.Stud and Mrs.Midnight? Switchable boobs are already a thing, I don't see what's wrong with switching up for a flatter chest

The survey's results aren't out yet, so I couldn't know. But that's beside the point, as my mod isn't a "bandaid" for any issue this fandom may have

If the name is causing trouble, I'm open to changing it; but the main goal, again, was to flatten the vanilla fem V chest, and I think "flat chest" is pretty straight forward for nexus users

Mmmh. Sorry but, no

Everyone is different and handle their own space differently, and I do not want to support people who did me, or my friends, any serious mental health damage. Be it from harassement, witch hunt and whatnot

I won't be dragging in there old drama from 2 years ago, but I simply won't support someone who tried to get a friend of mine fired from their work place, threatening to send a 30+ pages google doc to their leads and boss, and dragging all of their personal beefs to the public on multiple social medias. They ruined my friend's mental health, and I simply won't forgive nor forget.

That is my right. And I wish people would accept and respect that.

I won't tell anyone who to support or what mod to use/not use, NOBODY should tell you what to do, what to support, who to like or dislike; and nobody can control who I must support and what I must do. Simple as that

And I'm glad the flat chest body mod exist for people who wish to use it! I'm offering another option that I'm sure some people will find useful

Thank you :)

People already gave me trouble in the past for "doing work that already exist"

Those past few weeks has been eventful when it comes to "drama" especially involving Zwei, who's notorious for having a modding monopol and gatekeeping ideas in general

Let's not bring that same mindset here, yeah?

Everyone is free to mod what they want, whatever body they want, to refit what they want!

Again, just to point it out, mod isn't there to fix a problem, that's just a mod I wanted to make

It's a brand new mod, meaning it needs refiting; I did not test the flat chest bodymod, nor tried the already existing vanilla refit. And I won't, for the reasons I cited aboved a few lines before.

I'm glad you agree! Nobody has to do things they don't want to

You call it disingenuous, and I call it having principles/self respect; again, crazy how different people are from one another, and how we just can't assume everyone work and react the same as we do

I see, I see, the name is a big issue; I'm open to suggestion, feel free to leave a reply and I'll see what catches my eyes

Cause It's still my mod, so I get to decide

Anyway, hope this cleared up a few things, and sorry this made people upset!

For everyone else, thank you for the support 🧡

[fromthefirstmomentitouchedyou]

Soulmate au 3

They’ve been sequestered into a side room in Kensington Palace, Alex is fairly sure theres a guard on the opposite side of the door in case one of them decides to bolt. He thinks about texting Nora to see what the odds are because Henry hasn’t looked at him since they’d been shoved in here, he’s looked in Alex’s direction sure but Alex has had media training and he knows all the tricks Henry is employing.

It’s not like he’s not doing it as well.

He glances down at the book on his thighs-the Prince Henry fact sheet, Henry has an identical one in his lap.

“This is bullshit,” Alex says for the tenth time in a row.

“Yes, well if we have to pull off this soulmates thing we have to at least pretend to know each other,” Henry says bitingly.

Alex sets the fact sheet on the couch beside him. “We don’t have to pretend we are soulmates, you could just ask me questions that’s what usually happens in these cases.”

“Most people actually want to be soulmates,” Henry says archly.

The sarcastic lilt of Henry’s voice sets off something hard and unpleasant in Alex’s stomach, a cramp at the verbal acknowledgement of how much Henry doesn’t want him. And it shouldn’t bother him, he doesn’t want Henry right back but the bond between them doesn’t lie. His body doesn’t lie even if his brain does. Henry’s rejection stings.

“Look, man, just ask me questions like a normal person,” Alex says.

For the first time Henry does look at him and the wave of pure emotion that wells in Alex’s throat makes him feel parched. Well, now he knows why Henry wasn’t looking at him.

Fuck the soulmate bond.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

Alex blinks, he’d expected a soft ball question, maybe what’s your favourite colour or something. But as ever Henry cuts down to the very core of him and prods something painful.

“The Olympics,” Alex says, “I came up to you to introduce myself and you took one look at me and told Shaan to “get me out of here”

Henry has the grace to blanch at least. “I didn’t know you heard that.”

The heat in Alex’s belly turns into anger. “Yeah, that’s not really the point is it? The point is you were a dick”

Henry nods solemnly. “Yes, of course. It’s not an excuse but my father died a few months before and to be frank I was a dick to pretty much everyone all of the time back then.”

Oh.

Alex swallows. He should’ve just studied the fact sheet. Now he feels as if he’s peeled back a layer of Henry and glimpsed a person inside. His soulmate, not some rich stuck up cardboard character.

He feels an identical desire to peel back a layer. “I just….this shit is hard and I didn’t get a handbook and I wasn’t born to this like you were and it’s pretty hard when everyone compares me to you, who apparently can do all this in your sleep and it doesn’t matter how hard I work to everyone else I’m just a bad imitation of you.”

Henry’s eyes are wide and very blue and suddenly they are very close. The air feels charged somehow, a faint low hum starts in Alex’s ears and thrums through his blood and he knows on some molecular, cellular level Henry feels it too. The bond between them flaring to life and burning all of their good intentions to ash. Alex wants desperately to kiss Henry and he’s just working though gathering his courage when Henry leans forward and kisses him. Soft, sure and achingly sweet and the sore part of him he just revealed to Henry feels soothed, at least a little.

Henry pulls away and Alex finds himself tilting forward, eager to follow, to keep doing whatever they hell they were doing because suddenly feels as if he’s one half of a puzzle piece slotted into its mate and he wants to keep the feeling.

“I’m sorry,” Henry swallows painfully, cheeks reddening and in a moment the prince is up and out of the room.

[scekrex]

Hi! I just wanted to say I've been obsessed with your work as of late, especially all of your Adam works. And since your taking requests I was wondering if you'll be interested in doing this?

Bottom!Sinner!Adam x Top!Overlord!Male Reader

okay, so Reader is one the oldest residents of Hell maybe even older than Zestial. He has a reputation that precedes him. A myth/warning that parents tell their children to watch out for. But not many actually know him, just of him. He can be cruel/ruthless, but also merciful. Basically he's Hell's equivalent to Hades, lol.

BUT! What's a Hades without his Persephone?

Adam came back as a Sinner and instead of going to the Hotel(that would most definitely destroy his pride) he went to navigate becoming a Sinner himself, since this is kinda a opportunity for him, he can be himself without worrying about Heavens judgmental eyes on him all the time.

My headcanon about him is that he loves gardening, so he made his own Flower Shop in Hell with all the random/different flowers all around. Because I'll be damned if he doesn't at least have any powers that connects himself to the Earth/Nature, he's literally made from it, with some fucking dirt and pixie dust, lol

So Reader is hosting a small ball/banquet in a few weeks for the everybodies whose an anybody(rich and wealthy/the Sins/the Overlords) and he order some servants to make flower orders for the upcoming event, and who did they pick? None other than Adam's Flower Shop(that is not it's official name).

Readers hears his servants talk about the owner with soft and warm voices, which he admitted made him curious. So he made an excuse, and made his way to the shop himself. Once he met the owner he was already taken with his beauty(already whipped, lol). As well as Adam, he never met anyone that was taller than him. He never met anyone that so Domineering and he liked it, liked it a lot. He had Adam arranged a bouquet that would be ready in time for the ball/banquet.

On a wim, the Reader asked Adam out on a date for the next day, which he agreed to. After a few dates transpired, until it was the day before the ball/banquet. And Adam made the first move😳, until Reader took control of the situation, which had Adam a begging, moaning mess, asking for His Hades to go faster, while the Reader is praising His Persephone for being so good.

Sorry if this is so long😅

Never. I repeat never apologize for giving me such a beautiful, detailed prompt ever again. I ate it up and turned into whatever the fuck this is. I'm sorry this took me so long but I wanted to do justice to the long prompt you wrote. I hope ya like it

Part 2

Tell me lover, tell me where have you been

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, low-key slow burn

note: not beta read bc fuck you

The time had come sooner than you had expected it to, the ball that was traditionally hosted every two hundred years was your responsibility this year and you were quite grateful for that - you could only imagine the chaos a host such as the VEEs would have brought. It was not that you disliked them, they just had their own ways of doing things and those said ways felt disrespectful in many ways. So it was your pleasure to show them how a traditional ball such as this would be hosted so that they could take notes and inspiration - not that they were actually going to acknowledge the work you were putting into organizing this. They would probably even complain about the lack of something. But that was not your problem right now.

Your problem right now were the eager little imps running through your mansion in order to prepare it for the upcoming ball, that was unnecessary in your eyes, given that there was still so much time between today and the ball, but whatever that helped your little servants to sleep at night. If they were thinking of it as necessary, you were okay with it.

“Cree,” you called out for your personal assistant as you walked through the halls of your mansion, looking for your favorite Imp. Cree was taller than the other Imps that worked for you, if only by a little, for a male Imp his horns were surprisingly small and instead of black, they were white. Cree however, was an absolute sweetheart, despite his grumpy face. The Imp came running the moment he had heard you calling out for him, eager to fulfill whatever task you were about to give him, “How can I help you, Sir?” You smiled softly at the small creature - his head was just reaching the lower part of your hip bone - that was due to Cree being small and you being taller than the average resident of Hell. You kneeled next to the helpful Imp to decrease the height difference and talk to him in a more respectful way. “Thank you, my little friend,” you greeted the creature, “I need you to task Vere and Kian with organizing the most hellish looking flowers they can find.” The little Imp was about to run off to do as he was told, before he was able to do so you gently held him back to add, “Please do not only consider the ones we already know, I do not care whom the flowers are sold by, all that is important is for them to fit the theme.” Cree nodded firmly and once you let go of his arm, he was gone, informing Vere and Kian - two other Imps that were working for you.

-

“Oh and the way the aura changes when you enter his little store - he’s a normal sinner but the way he managed to do that feels magical,” you heard Vere speaking as the little Imp walked down the hallway, you had never heard him speaking with such a dreamy voice - that might have been because Vere was one to complain about everything, not always was it supposed to be taken serious, but the little Imp sure liked to complain about everything and everyone. So him talking so warm heartedly about the store made you peek up in curiosity. “Oh and the owner himself? Let me tell you, Cree, you will never meet a person quite like him,” Kian added to Vere’s dreamy sounding description of the place and its owner. That caused you to be even more interested in the topic. “Is that supposed to be a good-” Cree started to question but was quickly interrupted by an eagerly explaining Kian, “It fucking is - he is…” The Imp had trouble finding the correct word to describe the person he had met, because how were you supposed to describe the brunette without playing it down? “Divine,” Vere hummed, sounding like he had just met God himself and he had told the little Imp all about the beauties of life.

You were not able to hold back any longer, not when your usually judgmental staff was talking so positively about the person they had just met.

So you got up from your seat in your office, took a quick look at the receipt Cree had given to you before he had gone back to doing the tasks he had yet to fulfill. A mental note was all it took before you rushed out of your office, grabbed your coat on the way out and yelled a loud, “I’m out doing business, don’t expect me home any time soon,” through the hallways. The Imps turned around in confusion - especially Cree, who knew that you had nothing scheduled for today. But before your personal assistant was able to hold you back the door fell shut loudly, informing the entire manor that you had just left. The Imp sighed in frustration as he turned back around to face the other two Imps, “Looks like we have to reschedule some things with Sir gone.”

Hell’s streets were surprisingly empty, a thing you rarely got to experience due to the pride ring’s overpopulation, but it was nice to not walk through thousands of sinners. The flower shop Vere and Kian had picked was close - closer than most shops in general were. Probably the reason why they had chosen it, they hated walking through hell’s crowded streets just as much as you did so you could not blame them, especially because the pride ring suffered from extreme overpopulation.

The building wasn’t much to look at from the outside, it looked like every other average building in hell - maybe they had been talking about something else? Had they grabbed food on their way home? You didn’t know, yet you decided to give it a chance and so you opened the door to the little flower shop and the moment you set foot in it, you felt something shift. The aura felt lighter, easier to carry, the air smelled beautiful - not too overwhelmingly sweet and not like too much, it smelled almost divine. The colors the walls were painted in were so different from Hell’s usual colors, they were bright. A beautiful lilac caused the room to appear bigger than it was. The floor was made out of solid wood - or it was made to look that way, you were unable to tell. The shelves were painted in a shade of blue you would describe as skyblue - yes the sky down in Hell was red and nothing but red - but through the portals to Heaven which you had seen once or twice during the early exterminations, you knew the sky up above was blue - this exact shade of blue.

“You gonna stare at that shit all day? If you do I'll fucking charge your ass for it. You look like you can fucking afford it,” a annoyed voice mumbled from behind you. In a swift yet elegant motion you turned around to look at the person that was speaking to you only to spot the most holy creature you had ever seen with your very own eyes. The man behind the counter was resting his head on his hand, watching you with eyes that seemed more curious than annoyed, his entire body language told you that the tall man seemed to hold a lot of curiosity for you in general. You chuckled softly, before you shook your head, “As much as I would adore to spend longer in this divine feeling place with a person as good-looking as you - I am afraid I have plans that I am sadly unable to cancel.”

The tall brunette straightened his back and raised an eyebrow at your words - had you just complimented him for his looks? That had not happened since- since he had been reborn as a sinner. But his cocky tongue never failed him and so he responded, “Mr. Busy got shit to do that’s more important than talking to the fucking Adam? Yeah, I fucking doubt it bitch.” That caused you to frown, the first man was not supposed to be a sinner so if this man was speaking the truth - which you highly doubted - then he must have been a terrible person. Not that you were any better, you were just as much a sinner as he was. Yes, you were more experienced and more powerful, but in the end you and him were both rotten to the core. “Charming, quite charming, Adam,” you hummed in amusement. And while the brunette must have thought his reaction to your words wasn’t noticed by you, you had seen how his eyes had left yours for a split second. “But as much as I would love to tell you that I came for you, I did not,” you explained, trying to lead the conversation to a more business speaking one, though you had to admit the brunette in front of you was quite adorable.

Adam however made it quite hard to talk business, not that you truly minded. Yes, your schedule would get messed up, but you had already thrown that out of the window the second you had spontaneously left to see the flower store you were currently in. “Ay, you migh’ve not come for me yet but I sure can change that if your sexyness wants to accompany me in the fucking back,” a confident grin was on his lips as he ran his hand through his hair, pushing the soft, fluffy mess out of his face. You saw something twitch and flicker behind the broad man - a tail. Truly interesting. “As tempting as your sweet invitation is, I have to decline. Business sadly can’t wait - at least not today,” for a moment you thought this through, then you decided to simply see where this would lead you. “How about tomorrow though? I could pick you up and we could have lunch together - how does that sound handsome?”

Adam turned his head to face the ground, he seemed to be genuinely thinking about it, something you appreciated dearly. Then his eyes met yours again and he nodded before he responded, “Sure, can’t see why the fuck not.” He shrugged lazily before he pointed at you with his index finger and quickly added, “But food’s on you.” To that you nodded - it only made sense to you that lunch would be on you considering that you had been the one inviting him, not the other way around.

“Now talk business hotstuff, even though I’d rather have ya talking dirty to me.”

-

The first date had gone so well that the both of you started to see each other regularly - that meant almost every other day. Something your Imps did not like all that much. Seeing someone in a romantic way took up a lot of time - time you technically did not have given the upcoming ball. But you, Adam and the Imps had managed to get everything done in time.

And that was why you and Adam were at his place. The first man had taken the day off to enjoy it with you - something you had asked of him and that had seemed quite important to you when you had requested him to do so. And given that the brunette liked it better when you two spent time together, there had been no second thought, no hesitation.

“You’re quiet,” Adam addressed the most obvious thing as you mindlessly played with his hair. The both of you were sitting on the first man’s bed, your back against the headboard and his back against your chest, his ass was seated between your legs and he seemed to really enjoy having you that close to him.

A quiet hum fell from your lips in response before you exhaled loudly, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something.” Adam leaned forwards a little so he was able to turn his head in order to look at you. Where this conversation would lead he did not know and at that moment he wasn’t sure if he wanted to figure out where it would lead him to. Would you quit seeing him? Had you finally decided that you had enough of his bitchy attitude and would leave him too?

“I know we have only been seeing each other for a few weeks, I know we have yet so much to talk about and to confess, but I’d love to have you at my place tomorrow. I want you to accompany me at the ball,” you began, as you looked down at the other male with hope in your eyes. Though if he were to decline, you would live, you’d like it better if he were to agree. “Sure,” Adam said, visibly relaxing at the fact that you were neither quitting to see him nor leaving him in any form or way. “As my date, my partner even,” you finished, ignoring the brunette’s little interruption. Those words however caused the first man to turn around between your legs to properly face you. “Does that mean I get to fucking kiss you in front of all those fucking important and filthy rich people?” his eyes shone so pretty as he asked that question as if that would be the biggest achievement in all of his afterlife - and maybe it was.

You chuckled at the man, grinning lazily, “Even better. You get to kiss me whenever you desire.” And without another word the first man was onto you. His hands pressed against your shoulders and therefore kept you pinned against the headboard as his lips finally met yours - oh how long you had to wait for that to happen. His lips felt smooth and soft against yours and Adam was quick to prove that he was a magnificent kisser.

The kiss did not stay soft for very long though, you both made it obvious that you craved the other, that you two were longing for skin on skin contact. You wanted and desired each other and it was not only lust speaking, it was also love. The purest form of love you had ever felt. AdamÄs hands roamed from your shoulders over your chest and all the way down to your hips. Once his hands reached their destination he gave your hips a light squeeze before pulling them up a little to press his pelvis against yours.

A groan fell from your lips and met the lustful hiss of Adam - that was when you decided it was time for a switch. You liked seeing Adam so confident, so dominant, you truly did. But a thing you had learned over the past couple of weeks was that you liked the first man even better when he was all flustered - submissive even. So you skillfully caught his wrists in one of your hands, raised them above his head and leaned forwards. That action of you resulted in Adam falling backwards, landing onto the soft mattress with a surprised gasp. You found yourself on top of him, sitting on his hips to keep him from twisting the positions again as you pinned his hands firmly against the mattress above his head. A whine escaped Adam as he tried to thrust his hips upwards and was met with friction he had not been expecting.

“Oh fuck,” the first man mumbled when his lust clouded eyes met your burning ones. “Already on it, handsome,” you growled eagerly.

[jejuboo-s]

JUST A SIP.

PAIRING: Vampire!J. Wonwoo x F. Reader

W. COUNT: 1.4K

GENRE: Complete smut, nothing much else

SUMMARY: While shaving your legs up to your thighs in the shower, you accidentally wound yourself, blood spilling out of the small cut. In a hurry, you contemplate on going outside and asking Wonwoo to help. But you really couldn’t. Why? Because your boyfriend was a vampire.

EXPLICIT WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT MINORS DNI.

WARNINGS: Name calling (pretty, whore, etc.), mention of razor (for shaving), obvious mention of blood, Wonwoo is kinddaaa mean, slapping (face), Wonwoo gets cockier as reader gets needier, consent is sexy, cum-play, reader puts up with Wonwoo’s shit easily, she/her + female genitalia used/referenced

A/N: long.. long overdue. i haven’t done a work over 1k since my mingyu “stop kissing me please” and that was like two months ago, if i remember correctly. please do let me know what i could make better and if you have any suggestion for me in the near future, thank you. >3<

You hissed, looking at your thigh, you noticed a large cut from your razor. Feeling hot water fall from your shower head back onto your thigh just made the situation even more uncomfortable, so you decided to finish up your shower and head to your bedroom quickly.

Wrapping a towel around your exposed and wet body, you slowly realized that you really weren’t supposed to be going out of the bathroom with blood dripping from your thigh. Especially with Wonwoo home. You see, your boyfriend was a vampire. Although some things were harder to do with your irregular boyfriend, it didn’t stop you from acknowledging how kind, smart, caring, and handsome he was.

But really, you didn’t know how to really… approach this situation. You had two options, one seemed better than the other, yet the so-called “better” one would end up having more cons.

Option A: Turn off the shower, try grabbing a paper towel and wetting it to pat on the cut. Wait until all the blood has been patted off (estimated around ten minutes).

Cons? It would sting like hell, well, sure it’d sting even more if you got Wonwoo to do it with rubbing alcohol (if he could even withstand just looking at the wound), but it was always better for another person to do it. Plus, all the bacteria you’d imagine could contaminate the cut.. just. gross.

Option B: Walk outside with your towel, disturbing Wonwoo in whatever activity he’s doing inside of the living room. Also, interrupting whatever craving he had before and substituting it with your blood.

There technically weren’t many cons, but the last time he’d had your blood was when you two began dating, and let’s just say; it didn’t end so painlessly.

“Baby? Wonwoo?” You called out from inside the bathroom, loud enough for him to hear, quiet enough to not disturb him.

“Hm? Pretty, why don’t you get out of the bathroom to talk to me? You know I like face-to-face conversation better than ones in between walls.”

“Well uhm, do.. Do you still have that rubbing alcohol? And an uhm, a bandage?” You asked meekly.

“Why, are you.. are you bleeding?..” He paused in between his words, and you could tell he did because of the lack of noise coming from whatever activity he’d been doing before.

“Yeah, I just accidentally cut myself while shaving,” you bit your lip. “And there’s nothing really in the cabinets to help. So.. I assumed that asking you would be best.”

“Baby, you do know I don’t wanna hurt you. I haven’t tasted your blood, that rich blood for two years..” His mouth almost watered thinking about it. “I could go overboard and I want to put you over anything else.”

“You know, I wouldn’t mind if you took a small sip.. It’s fine, really, you always do so much for me. It’s unfair for you to give me everything I want but not vice-versa.”

Silence filled the air.

“Come out here.”

Although so bold with your words, inside you were quite the nervous wreck. You opened the door knob with caution, your attention turning to Wonwoo, who had some cheap Netflix show paused.

“Where’s the cut?” you pointed to your inner thigh while your boyfriends’ undivided attention went to the tempting bloody wound.

“So, what you’re basically telling me is that you want me to suck an intimate part of your body free of blood,” that same blood rushed to your cheeks and down to an even more intimate part of your body. “How naughty.”

You sat down on the couch, manspreading. “May I?” Wonwoo asked. It was obvious he wouldn’t take no as an answer by the way his mouth hovered over the cut. But either way, you’d still utter the words.

“Yes.”

Wonwoo sunk his tongue onto the cut, making sure not to waste any last drop, since he knew he’d probably never have this chance again in a while.

On the other hand, you, with your hand trembling scratching at his head, it felt—somewhat pleasurable. Way more pleasurable than it did when he first fed off of you.

“Oh, ‘Woo.. Fuck,” you moaned feeling his warm tongue on the cool patch of body. “Didn’t expect it to be this good..”

He looked up at you after ridding of all the blood dripping down your thigh, with bloody lips, he hovered over your neck and left kiss marks all over.

“M gonna bite you, please, stand still.”

Your neck fell back, providing more space for him to do his thing. Wonwoo let his sharp canines graze over your neck to find a place where he wouldn’t puncture a vein. Before sinking his teeth in, he paused.

“I beg, stand still, you’re shaking subconsciously baby. I promise ‘m not gonna hurt you.”

You tried your hardest but still, it wasn’t enough to ensure that Wonwoo wouldn’t accidentally sink his teeth into the wrong part of your neck. So he just kept a grip on your neck and shoulders.

And then he sank his teeth in.

First: it hurt, it hurt like a bitch. You swore you wouldn’t get used to it, but you still let Wonwoo drink from you like the good girlfriend you were. You just kept an insane clutch on his back, probably breaking skin in the process of doing so.

After a minute or so, your body felt lighter, like a feather, almost. You felt dizzy, not the nauseous type of dizzy; but really, just a feel good type of dizzy. The more he drank, the less pain there was. It was getting substituted with pleasure, it seemed.

“Wonwoo…” You croaked out, hands traveling from his hair and back and hair again. You didn’t know what to do, really, you were in a situation overwhelmed with pleasure.

Your hips bucked and grinded on his pelvis, in response to this, he loosened his grip on your shoulder, bringing it down to your hips, making sure to keep them still while he feeds.

“Woo, babe, hurry. ‘Wan you in my mouth, pretty please..”

Feeling a shadow tower over you, you opened your eyes to see your boyfriend no longer all over your neck, but with bloody teeth and an even bloodier mouth. You brought up your hand to wipe it off, only to just smear blood on his cheek.

God was he hot.

“Good girls wait patiently, don’t they? Fuckin’ whore. You know I haven't tasted your blood in a while, you could’ve been at least a little patient but no, you want to warm up ‘Woos fat cock don’t ya?”

His words hurt, but they also made you all the more horny. You wasted no time in getting off of the couch and letting yourself fall to your knees, your pretty little tongue peeking, waiting for him to take off his briefs.

Although having seen Wonwoo’s cock for the umpteenth time this year, you’d never get over how pretty it looked, hard and covered in precum. Just imagining how far inside he’d be with his dick covered in your spit was complete heaven.

“Open a little more, baby.” He held your chin down, watching as it fell slack with one simple command.

He slid inside, moaning, feeling your cheeks hollow out onto the sides of his dick. It took you a second to stop gagging, sure he wasn’t the longest you’d ever had, but he sure was veiny and thick.

“Oh my fuck,” he kept one hand tangled in your hair and the other to comb his hair back. “You look so damn pretty sucking dick, my dick and only mine.”

You let go with a pop, spit dribbling down your chin and down to your cleavage, his cum filling your mouth. Caressing your rosy pink cheek, he then landed a harsh slap on the flesh.

“C’mere.” Wonwoo held your chin, lifting yourself by your hands, he pressed a long and open-mouthed kiss on your lips, liquid seeping through eachothers’ mouths.

The sturdy towel that’d been holding on for life onto your body finally fell, your boobs pressing onto his shirt whilst deep into the kiss.

Pulling away, a string of saliva and the heavy cloud of lust was the only thing that connected you two, and, well, that bite mark of yours he’d left on your neck.

“God, I love you Wonie.” You gasped, trying to catch and steady your breath. He grinned back, now staring at unbroken skin on your neck.

“Right. So, round two?”

[yells-of-the-not-so-danged]

Batman: Gotham War was pretty BAD, but at least we got:

A cool scarecrow

a heartbreaking hug

fashion ✨

Scarface robin 💖💖💖

and the worst Jason face I've ever seen!

all for the low low price of the most poorly written batman I've ever encountered (tho granted i am new-ish to modern comics batman)

(spoilers below, also my descent into insanity)

HOW THE HELL DID THE BANK GET A HOLD OF THE MANOR, DID HIS PARENTS NOT PAY THE MORTGAGE??? EVEN THO THEY'RE *RICH*???????? IS THIS SET UP (poorly because it makes zero sense) IN ONE OF THE EARLIER COMICS??

WHY DID BRUCE-MAN BAT-WAYNE, THE AMN WHO IS AS INFINITELY RICH AS THE WRITERS WANT, NOT THINK, "OH! I'll JUST SET UP A FOUNDATION THAT SPECIFICALLY CATERS TO THE PEOPLE WHO FIND THEMSELVES IN HENCHMEN POSITIONS! I CAN, SINCE I'M BRUCE FUCKING WAYNE, SET UP A PROGRAM WHERE IF THEY ATTENDED SOME CLASSES TO TEACH THEM VALUABLE TRADES THEY CAN RECEIVE SPECIAL WELLNESS CHECKS SO THEY CAN SURVIVE UNTIL THEY CAN GET AN HONEST JOB! THE GOVERNMENT MAY EVEN DECIDE TO HELP FUND IT IF I PHRASE IT LIKE THAT!"

... some writers really do just want to write batman punching people, huh...

(edit: I'm adding more now that i've had a few more minuets to just... let it all sink in...)

LOCK BRUCE UP IN ARKHAM FOR BS HE DID TO JASON HOLY SHIT

CALL CPS FOR DAMIEN BECAUSE YOU KNOW FOR A FACT BRUCE HADN'T BEEN TAKING CARE OF HIM IF DAMIEN FALLOWED HIM HOME

DID HE REALLY JUST MAKE DICK THE DAD NOW??? HELLO??? CPS??? ANY MILDLY SANE THERAPIST??? PLEASE HELP???

also, what is Selina gonna do now?? am i really going to keep reading modern batman comics to find out???

OH GOD I HAVE EVEN MORE TO SAY

BRUCE IS UPSET AT SELINA'S PLAN OF STEALING FROM THE RICH BECAUSE STEALING IS A CRIME AND (most importantly!)

HIS PARENTS WERE RICH!!!!!

i am not being hyperbolic when i say i am screeming. I quite literally am, or was, because this. is. insane. and the more i think about all this the more confused and upset i get because WHAT??? WHAAAAT???? HUHH? WHAT????! I AM GOING FERAL

(please tell me the writers will pull bat-mite out their ass to retcon all this shit please [lease plzzzz )

(who the hell green lit this shit??? is it supposed to be absolutely insane??? is that the arc going on right now????)

WHY was the Vandal Savage plot line needed??? The rogues would have teamed up eventually, they did not need Savage to coordinate that and there could have still been a mole in Selina's crew. Then when the rogues finaly strike the Bats and the Cats could have worked together and then finaly talked things out ( if this was writen by a sane person)

also they kill Ra's Al Ghul of screen?? is he dead for good?? explain??

the more and more i think of this the more unwell i get.

YET ANOTHER EDIT:

it's been a month or two and only now has it hit me...

IS THERE JUST A GIANT LAZARUS PIT ON THE OUTSKIRTS OF GOTHAM NOW??????????

THIS BETTER BE PLOT POINT LATER OR I'M GOING TO RIOT

i also want to acknowledge Salina more; even though this was equally her story i barely talked about her and i am sorry. You deserve so much better Salina, both from me and from Bruce. You had an idea that would be considered good in the context of Gotham and what the writers were willing to humor

( even though had the writers been sane she could have offered my earlier proposal to Bruce, but sadly we don't live in that timeline U_U )

...Hey, how did she survive falling in the newly born Lazarus pit?? was she wounded enough that the pit healed instead of killed?? is that what we're going with here??

[chaifootsteps]

putting aside the way HB continually lies to its audience and spreads no good very bad ideas about what abuse and sexual coercion is or isn't to a fanbase that skews disturbingly young for a sec

from a creative writing perspective, Stolas is like one of the most frustrating characters to have ever been

like, there's three or four different versions of him at this point. he was a competent antagonistic force once. he had hidden depths.

now he's a pathetic passive whiny creature who is somehow a prince despite doing most of his duties poorly. he has the interior mental landscape of a child. he stakes his happiness on a lower class man who he's trapped with him through his economic need, and he blames that man for his own inability to handle his feelings like an adult.

he wears a godawful romper (sorry, I just can't get past the outfit redesign. it's so distractingly bad)

it just really strikes me watching episodes like The Circus when he as literal imp servants from childhood, or Western Energy when he goes to a cafe where the whole gimmick is imps pouring tea for bluebloods, that like

there could have been a character here, if the show just acknowledged the power Stolas had been born into and is so used to he doesn't even seem to notice that his monthly hookup is the same class as servants he's used and abused his entire life

if the show recognized what a sad wet cat Stolas is, and not in the 'feel sorry for him!!!' type of way

instead we're getting increasingly liberal lectures on 'royalty have feelings just like everyone else, they can't help being rich :(' and all the setup - the mirroring of Blitzo being sold as a child then as an adult to Stolas, the class difference, the rich pitting poor against poor - all goes down the drain, because the show can't bear to have us judge Stolas even slightly

and on top of all that, he isn't even good at wielding the power and privilege he does have. he apparently only bothers using his book once a month for his job, he doesn't memorize his spells, he doesn't teach his oh so important heir magic to defend herself with, he lends out his grimoire with no safety precautions as long as he can be dicked down once a month

funniest thing is if you point out Stolas sucks at his job on top of all his other flaws you'd probably get the 'they're in Hell!' excuse

if that's the case why does the show keep insisting he's perfect? why isn't there more of an Always Sunny sense that we're supposed to enjoy the characters sucking at everything? I maybe could have liked a show like that

There isn't even all that much I can say to add to this...you took the words right out of my mouth, every single one.

[decodedlvr]

As long as I’m with You

Steve Harrington x You (short)

Summary: Steve wakes up to another bad night you’ve had this week

Warnings: hurt/comfort, talks of poor physical and mental health, doctors, suicidal ideation, medication use, drug use, chronic health issues, BPD if you squint, disabilities, use of the word “girl” x times, negative self talk, mentions of sex, angst, fluff~~

This is based off my own experiences and inspired by my pal Morgan’s version; feel free to check hers out

Tick tick tick

The clock strikes 12 and then 1, 3, 5am in the morning, no sleep no rest it’s an every day cycle. The same shitty cycle.

It’s a new year, but not a new you.

Sitting in your walker in front of the excruciatingly bright television screen, high as a kite, everything in existence running through your mind 100 mph, sometimes the weed helps the pain. Sometimes it induces it or even makes it worse. Right now it’s doing nothing for you. Looking over at your loved one sound asleep. You don’t want to bother him with your whines or crying. So you just sit there silence, tears rolling down your cheeks; while you watch some bullshit on YouTube.

Sniff Sniff

“Baby?”

Shit.

“..yea?” you say in a whispered tone

“Are you ok? what’s wrong?”

“Ah, you already know”, you’ve used that line probably over a million times

Steve comes along your side expecting a few dried tears, but his eyes widen when he’s sees the collar around your shirt bitten, snot dribbling down your mouth and throat, crouching down, he lies his head onto your thigh looking up at you, “Talk to me sweetheart”

“No.”

“Hey, I know you’re hurting”—

“GOOD FOR YOU! Congratulations you know I’m hurting, you know I’ve been hurting for fucking years. I’m glad you’ve acknowledged it unlike some people”you sniffle getting up in a hurry to take a piss as he follows with sad eyes leaning against the door frame

“I’m fucking tired, I’m so goddamn exhausted nobody will ever know what I’m dealing with!”, you say wiping your ass not bothering to wash your hands, “I can’t do anything I can’t run, I can’t jump, can’t go to the stupid, fucking grocery store without one of those motorized carts.. my back hurts, my fucking knees are throbbing, stupid fucking nerves won’t calm down FUCK! It’s not like I can get in the bathtub to calm my muscles down. Nothing is helping! No medication, no PT, no injections, no nothing! Why?? am I just resistant to any source of help or treatment? I-I can’t even lay in the goddamn bed to sleep. That’s all I have left is rest!! What is rest!? I don’t know what the hell that even is”

“I know baby I know”—

“NO YOU DONT STEVE, all you know is what you see. I wouldn’t wish on our worst enemy, my worst enemy to feel what I feel. That’s how bad it all hurts. The most evil, sick and twisted person in this world, I would never wish this upon. I just..”, getting dizzy you collapse on the bed sobbing into your own hands, then eventually into Steve’s shoulder as he rocks you, tears spilling from his own eyes—

“Nobody cares, nobody wants to help me. nobody cares unless I’m rich and can afford to give them any and ALL the things off my back, but I can’t. Even with the money you make it will never be enough to help the poor girl who’s too young to have any kind of issue. It’s “all in my head” I’m just fucking crazy. I could break my own neck and still be told it’s only from anxiety. Nobody cares just”—

“I care” he exhales

“It doesn’t matter if you care, all your care is useless, all your help is worthless to me because it gets me nowhere. Nobody’s love and care gets me nowhere. It’s nothing all but fucking false hope. Don’t you get that? None of you still to this day seems understand that. Stop praying for me to get better. It’s never going to happen. I can’t take it anymore.. I just wanna die! All I wish for is to die but, I can’t even have that. It’s like all of you want me here, to live and suffer for the rest of my life for y’all, it’s not fair, fuck that”, your trembling, body in fight or flight

“Don’t say that, you know I’d do anything to take your pain away”

“It doesn’t matter what you’d do because you’re not a doctor. You’re not a professional, you can’t help me get better.. sucks to hear but it’s the truth Steve..fuck”—

Steve’s really trying not to beat himself up over your words, he knows you’re in pain, it comes from a place of anger, frustration and fear

“I have all these pain medications I could easily take all at once, so I’ll never have to wake up in this position ever again. Why can’t I do it huh? I could end right here right now you never have to suffer again, but I just d-don’t; If anything, I’m the most selfless person for staying alive for YOU just so I can be alive but in pain all over again for YOU!”, your tone getting higher and higher in pitch

“I-I’m sorry.. I wish I knew the right words to say baby”, he’s trying his best to stay strong for you

“You’ve got to be sick of me, tired of me. All I do is cause more money to come out of your pockets, more exhaustion, more burdening, more crying, more everything bad for you. You already deal with your own shit. I do nothing but make your own mentality worse, hell you’re making your own self worse being with a person like me. A broken and useless excuse of a human being. You deserve somebody who can go hiking with you, go to the beach, travel with, who can do the bare minimum. Can’t even fuck you properly—

“STOP! Stop that right now” he shouts

You freeze because he’s never raised his voice at you, atleast not on purpose at such a vulnerable time

“I hate it too. You know it hurts me to know that you hurt and I’m sorry that I can’t take the pain away from you. My sweet, sweet girl I’m so sorry that nobody has given you the chance to hear your voice, to help heal you..but I’m gonna make you the same promise I make you almost every single night. As long as I’m with you, I will try my best with all my power to make it a little bit more bearable for you to be here, and I am so grateful that you are still here and choose to be here with me for us to be together. I know you hurt, but as long as you’re with me, I’m going to do my best to put a smile on your pretty face, beautiful sunshine of a smile because you’re my sunshine.. y-your smile gives me life did you know that?”

You nod. He tells you all the time

“I- I’m tired for wishing to feel ok for my birthdays, every Christmas. All the shirts and posters you got me for Christmas? I haven’t even touched them yet, you know why? Because the selfish person in me doesn’t give a fuck about none of it. The only thing I care about and want and NEED is pain relief and that’s too much to ask for isn’t it? Apparently wanting to be better in the world it’s too much to ask for”

“You deserve to feel better”, he says while his hand travels up your back to rub your tense neck, “You deserve to be free from all of this and I can’t give that to you. You’re not selfish baby you’re hurting. I love you for you. I knew what I was signing up for, and if I didn’t want that I wouldn’t be here right now with you. I know the sacrifices Ill have to make, the tears I’ll have to shed, the strength it’ll take me to pick you up when you’re down, but I fell in love with you, how you are, and who you are”

“Who are you kidding Steve, you don’t even know who I am. The real me. I don’t even know who I am anymore. I wish you met me when I wasn’t sick then maybe you wouldn’t be so stressed out a-and.. and,” you start sobbing again, it’s all too overwhelming

“Hey, hey look at me, no. I met you at the right time. You need me just as much as I need you. You may not think you’re worth nothing but you’re worth everything to me. Yeah you have a good and bad days..—

“I’ve had nothing but bad days for the past few months Steve”-

“I know, I see it, I hear it and I witness it, I may not can feel it, but at the end of it all, you still love me. You’re still here. You still want to cook for me. You still get up to brush your teeth and I’m so proud of you for still trying to care for yourself. That’s the biggest job you’ll ever have, and it’s been a very hard job hasn’t it?

You nod, as he nods with you

“Yeah, it has, but you don’t have to do it alone anymore. I want to provide for you. I want to take care of you. You’re my girl, you deserve so much and as long as I’m with you, I will try every day, every hour, every second or minute, to make sure you know how loved, how great and how amazing you are. How great and amazing you’re doing for yourself and for me. How strong you are”—

—“im tired of having being strong all the time”, interrupting him

“I know you are. You are so strong for being on this earth, even when you don’t want to be. I wouldn’t ask for anybody else, you’re it for me always. Will you continue to let me try to make it better for you every day? To take care of you?”, he squats in front of you, cupping your wet cheeks, kissing your forehead

“But Stevie.. you know you’re getting your own hopes up because nothing you do helps either and I feel like a piece of shit for saying that because”—

“I know what you mean, you don’t have to be sorry. I understand you may not have hope but I do. All my Hope goes towards you and it always will. You are the most important thing in my life. I’m not gonna give up on you, on me or on us, ok sunshine?”

..”okay”, you repeat rubbing your temples

“Head hurt, darling?”

“yes”

“From crying too hard?”

You nod, looking away in shame, “It’s okay, I’ll get your Migrane cap from the freezer and i’ll set your pillows up how you like, just sit tight”, he says it standing then pausing at the doorway, looking over his shoulder, “I love you”

“luv you—

“Hmm? What was that, I couldn’t hear you” he exclaims

“I said love you gosh.. shut up”, you barely crack a smile

That was enough to get him through the rest of the night.

[enchi-elm]

✨ weekend wip exposure club ✨

rules: post 7 sentences/a snippet of an unfinished work

I will do you one better, I will just post the whole thing as I'm not planning on taking it anywhere. Thanks, @strangegeology, for the tag!

Unbeta'd, unedited, etc. etc.

tagging @tortoisesshells, @ladysarai, @thenwhatthefukcisthis, @valerileygreen because I thiiiink you weren't tagged yet!

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

one - love

Eames comes across Arthur at the tennis court. He wants to stay back, observe the man from a distance, but Arthur spots him as soon as he’s within view. His game face doesn’t change—if he’s scowling at Eames’ appearance, Eames can’t tell. He might be hitting the ball a little harder and his opponent stumbles as he lunges, sprawling flat against the court as the ball hits the chain-link fence.

Arthur walks to his bag and grabs his towel, holding up a finger and nodding at his opponent. He wipes his face, walking over swiftly to where Eames stands.

Before Eames can make a comment about his tennis whites, or even ask what the hell Arthur is doing playing at a country club, Arthur cuts him off.

"What are you doing here? Whatever this is, I don’t have time for this right now.”

Hello to you, too. But fine, if he wants to get right to business.

“I have a job for you,” Eames says.

“I don’t work for you.”

“No, but I thought you might deign to work alongside me again. For the right price.”

Arthur gives him a wary look, then glances at his opponent, who’s subtly trying to ingest as many glucose tubes as Arthur’s brief distraction will let him.

“I’m busy,” he says, turning away.

“I’ll be at the bar,” Eames calls out, without acknowledgement from the point man.

Arthur goes back to his position, tossing his towel aside en route. His opponent wipes his mouth and gets into position to serve, already grimacing.

Eames watches Arthur return the serve as if he’s decapitating someone.

Eames knows little about tennis and can’t gauge the length of the game before Arthur shows up at the country club, racket and gym bag slung over his shoulder. Eames is deep in conversation with another patron—swindling him blind and leading him on besides—but he gives a thin smile at the younger man’s approach.

“So what do you want?” Arthur asks, and Eames can tell from no tell at all: he won his match.

“Arthur, let me introduce you to Mr. Ian Thorpe. A financier from Atlanta.”

Arthur shakes hands, just this side of civil.

“Pleasure.”

“Your friend’s been spinning me quite the yarn,” the financier says. He’s a forgettable sort of rich—the right colour suit, but the wrong cut. “He’d have me believing in the investment of a lifetime.”

“He’s a crook,” Arthur says, to a chuckle from Eames. “And a liar. But he gets results.”

The man laughs and rises. “Well, maybe I will give you a call then. I’m sure we can find a way to do business.”

“The pleasure is all yours,” Eames says, greasily, packing everything into the lift of his lips that might otherwise be transmitted in a wink. Arthur watches the man leave and takes the other chair at the table.

“He’s not worth your time,” he says.

Eames casually flashes a black leather wallet—not his. “He already has been.”

“I doubt he’ll miss the cash.”

Eames flips it open and pulls out the driver’s license, perusing it. “It’s not the cash that interests me.”

“He’s your target.”

Eames puts away the wallet. “Or maybe just a person of interest.” He focuses on Arthur, a transparent smile on his face. It could mean anything.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to recruit you. If such a thing is even possible—you must be booked well into next year.”

“What’s the job?”

“An oil man. Bit of a twisted one.”

“Let me guess. Inception?” It wouldn’t be the first offer Arthur’s had this month. It wouldn’t be the first of the week. Whoever blabbed—and Arthur has his theories—made sure that their little reverse-heist was on the lips of every extractor in the industry. Not because they’d tried—God, lots of people had tried—but because Fischer Morrow had folded within six months after Fischer Sr.’s death. Even Arthur hadn’t expected such a swift return.

Eames hums, sympathetic to Arthur’s irritation. He must be hearing a lot of it, too. “You know that the men’s world record for the 100 m dash was at a stalemate for 12 years before it was broken? All it took was one man to crack it and it got beat twice again in four years.”

Arthur pushes down the urge to correct him. It was 14 years, not 12. And it took another five years for it to get broken again. But he knows what he’s saying. For the longest time, Inception was only theory.

“Why, did someone else do it?” That would be interesting.

“A sucker born every two weeks, if the rumour mill is to be believed. Personally, I doubt it.”

“Why, ‘cause you weren’t involved?”

“I was going to say,” Eames says, lifting his glass, “because you weren’t.”

The flattery works, for one unexpected second—Arthur feels a warmth in his neck. He pulls out his water bottle and drinks deeply.

“So what is the job? Extraction? I’m not doing more than two levels. I’m not exactly keen for another one of Yusuf’s concoctions.”

“That’s a shame. I can’t get him off my phone. Says he’s never had such a willing test subject. I think he’d work for free if it meant he got another whack at you.”

“Not a chance. Why aren’t you answering my question?”

“Because I’m savouring this time together before you storm off to annihilate some other poor sod on the court.”

Arthur narrows his eyes. “Why would I storm off?”

“Because you’re not going to like how much you’ll want to do this.”

Arthur listens as Eames tells him the job. He gives it ten steady seconds before he stands and walks away without another word.

“I’ll be in touch!” Eames calls and Arthur gives him the finger without looking back.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of Both Worlds (Part 27)

Tw: religious mentions, short chapter

its mostly filler and like transition material, but only 2 of the options will introduce a new character which may or may not be relevant to the story

man what the hell am i talking about i barely follow my own rules, just chose what yall think best

VOTE BELOW FIRST 20 VOTES ONLY COUNT

Part 28

"Alright! Let's go!" Evangeline hooked her arms around yours and dragged you away. Montgomery had to catch up after you and her.

__

"Will you shut the hell up?" Montgomery hissed through his teeth.

"I'm just saying, (name) wouldn't have agreed with you saying 'Anita Bath' if you weren't stinky." She took another bite of her pepperoni pizza slice.

"Why are you friends with her?" Montgomery turned to you, exasperated and desperately wishing that you would send her away.

You shrugged and ate your slice. You were secretly grateful that Montgomery came by because you forgot to bring Yves's lunch again. If it wasn't for him, you would have starved until evening. Or you're forced to use your allowance from Yves and Montgomery to buy something- you'd rather save that money for something else.

Then something came to his mind. "Hey, goldie. Ya' said something happened between y'all and that freak this mornin'. What was that about?"

You tensed up, but Evangeline is as cheerful and calm as ever.

"Oh, he just wanted me to stay away from (name). That's all." You stared at her in disbelief. Why would she disclose that?

Montgomery furrowed his eyebrows. "Why?"

She tapped her chin and hummed. "I think he's jealous."

Montgomery scoffed in response. "Typical of those rich bastards. They'll try to isolate their victims so they ain't got no escape until they're done with them."

You felt like your eyes were about to pop out of your sockets when Evangeline nodded in agreement. Who's side is she on?

"And it's as if (name) would want a lil' stuck-up brat like you." Evangeline shot him a nasty look and placed her hands on her hips.

"Hey, that wasn't nice."

"Whatever, twerp." He dismissed her, taking another slice and handing it to you, seeing that you just finished your first one. You're too hungry to care what this gesture might mean, so you just take it off his hands.

"Stinky." She stuck her tongue out at him. Montgomery flipped her off.

This is... a very sibling-like dynamic you're witnessing. Although Montgomery outwardly dislikes her, you think that they're working together towards something. And it's making your gut instinct go haywire.

You wish Yves is here so badly. He knows what to do.

You turn your head to look at the lockers where your phone is charging.

While they were bickering, you stood up and went to check on your phone. You pressed the correct combination of numbers on the keypad and waited for the locker door to swing open. You unplugged your phone and prayed hard it was enough to turn it on.

A minute has passed and it still isn't turning on. You sighed, replacing the cord and allowing it to charge longer.

You returned to your seat, only to see Evangeline and Montgomery listening to a third person standing up next to them. They're holding a stack of papers, and your unwanted companions are holding a piece in their hands.

"Hi there." They greeted you. "I was talking to your friends about our club, here is a flyer with all our details. Feel free to contact us if you're interested."

You flip the glossy paper over, it says:

"Like to talk? Like to convince? Want to make friends? Join our debate club!"

The stranger showed you, Evangeline, and Montgomery where their phone numbers are located on the paper, the names of their social media pages, and meeting times. Which was apparently from 12pm to 5pm daily.

"Don't y'all have classes at these times?" Montgomery asked.

"Well, not all of us do. Anyone can feel free to come in or leave as they like. The session concludes at five in the evening, though."

All three of you gave them a response of acknowledgment.

"We hope to see new faces! I'll get going now, bye!" They walked away and began conversing with other people, promoting their club.

You stared at it. People were promoting their clubs last semester, but you never joined any of them. Maybe you should heed Yves's advice and put yourself out there so that you're not stuck with Evangeline, Montgomery, and Yves as your only friends.

"What do you think, (name)?" Evangeline asked you. "Are you going to join? I'll come with if you do."

You didn't respond verbally, but your body language should be expressing discomfort.

"Sweetheart, I think you're better off joinin' this." Montgomery took out a folded brochure from his pocket.

You tried your best to smoothen it, but it was crumpled beyond repair.

It seems to be a promotional medium for the university's youth group. Sponsored by the Catholic Church.

He wants you to join... a Christian club?

"Y'all should be findin' Jesus. You'll learn a thing or two about work-life balance from those bible studies."

You saw a mischievous glint in Evangeline's baby blues and you know that it's not going to end well.

"Wow, Monty! That's so Christian of you to harass (name), and give them gifts and food in exchange for something you want from them! Look! (Name) is already following in the steps of Christ. Like in 1 Peter, chapter 2, verse 20: When you do good and suffer for it you endure, this is a gracious thing in the sight of God. Great job taking his bullshit!" She clapped her hands and giggled madly.

Montgomery shook his head and looked at her with great incredulity. "What the hell are you even talkin' about?! Y'know what, I don't care. Run ya' mouth all you want."

He turned to you. "Trust me, if you wanna join a club, yer' better off joinin' this one." He rubbed your forearms in his hands.

"Didn't you say we're grown? (Name) can totally make their own decision on which club they want to join."

Montgomery narrowed his eyes at her but didn't say anything in retaliation for once.

"Which club will you be joining, (name)?"

[prince-liest]

oh my god…. prince……. you can’t do this to me. you’re saying next fic has vox getting fucked, focuses on vox’s transness (AH), AND ALSO HES ON THE OFF SEE SAW OF HIS RELATIONSHIP WITH VAL?????? ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL MEE?!!?!!????? I THINK I MIGHT ACTUALLY COMBUST. and bc another anon asked abt how alastor views the violence in voxval’s relationship, i have Another thought on the matter. as much as alastor looks down on vox, they can be Very similar sometimes. they are both egomaniacs and very prideful. i don’t think vox, without outside interference, would ever ADMIT that the violence he faces is 1) something he truly hates AND 2) out of his control. he can’t admit he hates it, because then why isn’t he stopping it? that would be admitting to not being powerful enough or strong enough. and hello, 50’s toxic masculinity coming through, he CANT be a victim of domestic violence. he’s a powerful, rich, and important man. it all comes down to perceived weakness. so, the solution is to pretend he’s mostly fine with it. sure, he can act disgruntled and upset in the moment, but i don’t think he’d ever let himself take it seriously. because then he has to start drawing lines in the sand, and what happens then? will val look down on him? will he lose val? yeah, he is not risking that over a problem he mostly refuses to acknowledge exists. and as you said, this is all happening in the setting of hell, where ultra violence IS the norm, and vox himself is excessively violent. it’s the most delicious 50 layer cake of fucked up-ness.

RANT ASIDE THO. i have a question. 2. do you ever plan on having vox interact with the hotel crew outside of angel? ANDDDD what would charlie’s reaction be to their friendship/situationship/ kinda love affair. i think she could add SOOOOO much hilarity and Intense Emotions to this series. not that the boys haven’t been doing their part in that so far. charlie just intensifies everything she does, god bless her. -🌓

The "getting fucked" bit and the trans conversation bit are directly related to and relevant to each other, and frankly I'm just very happy to be out here writing the specific flavors of deeply queer shenanigans that I'm writing, and to have people actively enjoy that. It genuinely means a lot to me that I've strayed so goddamn far out of the bounds of good old top/bottom yaoi archetypes that introduced me to fandom and yet have a wildly enthusiastic audience nonetheless. So, that was my long way of saying that you bring me a lot of fucking joy, anon, hahaha.

As for everything you're saying about Vox, power, and masculinity: YOU! points dramatically at you YOU GET IT! YOU GET IT!!!!!! Everyone just read this, this is it, this is the thing. I have no notes to add. There is a reason that the main point he raises the moment he actually says something vulnerable about it (before he immediately cuts himself off) is a complaint that he's an overlord, so why—?

And with regards to your questions: I'm not gonna lie, my actual planning for 666 is usually, like, extremely by the seat of my pants. I plan nothing except, "Oh, shit, had an idea for the next one. Lesgoooo—" and that's been the case for literally every single installment. It's all just been evolving naturally and building on top of itself. So! I can't say that I plan to have Vox interact with the hotel crew or Charlie, but I also will never say that I'm actively opposed to it.

That said, I do think a lot of this fic is kinda structured around hitting specific topics that come up in intimate settings between Vox and Alastor specifically, with occasional tag-ins from Angel Dust, so I don't really know if there's anything in particular I'd like to write that I think would work better in this series if more characters got involved. But, hey! Never say never!

[steddieas-shegoes]

If you're still doing headcanons, I know we've talked about this one before but I also know that we both love the hell out of it so now I'm giving you an excuse to write it!

Robin doesn't know or care what Steve's dad's name actually is, she always calls him Richard, because he's a dick and she'll take any excuse to call him one to his face, especially at their stuffy dinner parties where he can't get mad and yell at her for it without coming of as rude in front of his guests. She thinks it's fun to see what shade of red his face will go before he excuses himself to go self-destruct in the privacy of his home office.

Oh yeah this is good 😂

Even though Steve and Eddie are head over heels in love, Steve doesn’t subject him to the hell that is a Harrington dinner party.

He knows that he’d spend the whole night making sure Eddie isn’t saying anything to them that would turn into an argument and sticking up for Eddie to all his dad’s rich friends and business partners.

So he makes Robin come as his plus one.

She hates it, but she’s subtle about it, and subtlety is key with this crowd.

But she hates his dad the most.

John Harrington exudes wealth in every way that Steve has taught himself not to.

He thinks he’s subtle about his judgment and disdain for Robin, but she can read people surprisingly well when she doesn’t have a big, fat crush on them, so she knows and gives it right back.

John, or Richard as Robin decided to call him, isn’t used to anyone, especially 18 year old women, making him feel small.

“Richard, the crab puffs are to die for. Would you?”

She gestured for him to take one off the waiter’s plate, but he didn’t. He just glared at her.

The waiter left and Robin continued her fun for the evening.

“Now, Dick, it’s very rude to not even acknowledge the waiter. He may be a slave to your system, but he deserves a no thank you if you’re not interested, don’t you think?”

Steve was so close to laughing.

John’s face was turning a new shade of reddish-purple.

“It doesn’t seem appropriate to spend all this money on nice food and not even indulge. What if it goes to waste, Richard?”

John Harrington was too concerned with appearances to yell at her in front of the guests, but Steve could see the resistance slowly faltering.

“If you’ll excuse me, I have some business to check on in my study.”

“During your dinner party, Richard?”

John rolled his eyes and walked away, much to Robin’s amusement.

Steve turned to her when he was gone, unable to help the smirk threading to become a very pleased smile.

“He hates you so much.”

“Not as much as I hate him.”

“I’m surprised he doesn’t correct you when you call him Richard.”

“He’s one boring dinner party away from me just calling him Dick.”

“Please do. I’ll set up a camera and record it.”