#I don’t know why he had to say ‘pussycat’

[waugh-bao]

“Keith likes to think of himself as a tyrant, but really he's just a pussycat, to be perfectly honest. He just does what he's told, half the time.”

Mick Jagger, 1994

[bookvvitch]

♡ Kissed By The Baddest Villain ♡

Link To Masterlist

SMUT AHEAD MDNI

Ch 5: Practice Makes Perfect

Today is different than most days, in that you and one other individual have been tasked with pulling the information out of a couple of guards who may have overheard a conversation about UA high school. One person is to come with you for your own protection, the “muscle” so to speak, while the others hang back at the hideout. You get why they need only two people for this mission. Sending in the entire league would be messy, difficult to coordinate, and would more than likely blow your cover due to the lack of stealth involved. There isn’t much of a reason for them to muddle things up that way when Kurogiri can warp them to your location at the drop of a hat. That part is no mystery to you. 

What you don’t understand is why you’ve entered the den to see everyone drawing straws over who had to escort you to the location. 

“Looks like you’re comin’ with me today, doll face,” Dabi’s voice trails hotly through his teeth as he shows you the short straw he’s drawn. 

The others are all quiet, tempering their pissy attitudes, which you mistake for their relief that they don’t have to babysit the weakest link in the League Of Villains chain. It’s not lost on you that you don’t offer much in the way of capabilities compared to the others. Sure, your quirk is useful, and you have many positive attributes which you’ve cultivated throughout your entire life spent in villainy—however, you’re aware that you aren’t super agile, or strong, or even particularly able to defend yourself outside of who you’re using your quirk on. And now Dabi has, quite literally, drawn the short straw and must perform as your defense himself. How humiliating.

Dabi flips his middle finger at everyone behind his back as you two walk out the door. 

He gets to spend essentially the entire day with you now. 

Fortunately, the pair of you are stealthy enough that the guards don’t hear you coming. You aren’t what you would consider to be a graceful person, nor are you particularly light on your feet, but you know how to avoid getting caught. You’ve seen too many others get their asses handed to them making even the faintest of noises trying to get to your parents, so you’re aware of what to listen for, where to position your feet, what to avoid. This makes it so easy to sneak up on these two that it’s almost laughable. They’ve been left out here like sitting ducks. 

Your quirk only works on one person at a time, so Dabi handles the larger of the guards as you work on his counterpart. First thing he mentions is his Grandma. Yeesh. It feels kind of fucked up to do him this way, but he’s not cracking in dreamland, so you’re going to have to use dear old granny as leverage. It takes over an hour for him to finally relent, but it does eventually do the trick. You almost want to say sorry for the things you made him see. Grandma’s melting eyeballs don’t exactly just leave your thoughts once they’ve been shown to you. 

Regardless, you got the information you needed. UA is planning a training camp for the upcoming season when the new recruits are in. That’s plenty of time to get the Vanguard Action Squad together and even more time to plan. The others will be pleased with what you’re bringing back for them. 

“Think Shigaraki will be happy with what we were able to get from those guys?” Your attempt at smalltalk appears to be falling flat as Dabi rolls his eyes. 

“Dunno,” his timbre is smoky and low, “Don’t really care, either,”

He comes closer to you as your footsteps echo throughout the alley, warmth radiating from him to an alarming degree. There’s always heat coming off of him, but this time, he’s absolutely sweltering, leaving scorch marks in his wake. It’s concerning to say the least. 

“You seem warmer than usual,” you say, slowing your pace.

“I just watched you make some motherfucker see his grandma burning in hell and you’re worried about me being warm?” He replies sardonically.

Your gate pauses, brows flexed.

“I'm serious. I can feel you from all the way over here. Did you get hurt?” You ask him, searching his form for any obvious signs of damage. 

He looks to the side opposite of you, pale skin becoming flushed, “No more than usual,”

You grab his hand, leaning against an old brick building to examine the areas most affected by his flames. The touch feels something akin to sensual, your fingers tracing over the lines of his palm, eyes narrowed in concentration as your lips part to reveal the smallest click of your tongue. He taps his foot anxiously, tugging slightly to encourage you to drop his hand. This touch is too much. Too much, and not enough. 

“Quit worrying about me. It’s nothing. My hands just get kinda hot when I use my quirk for too long, and that guy was a fighter,” 

“You have blisters here. I saw you touch the pavement you’d heated up, so I figured something like this would happen,” your brows pinch, “We should really run some cool water over them. It’ll help,”

“Psh. That won’t do shit, doll. Might as well kiss it better if all you’re gonna do is ru—“

The words catch in his throat as you lift his hand to your mouth, pressing a soft peck to the center of his palm. You smile up at him as if you’ve done something simple, mundane, like you changed a coffee filter so he wouldn’t have to. 

“Better?”

He can feel the entire world coming to a screeching halt. His eyes are so wide you’re worried they may be about to pop out of their sockets entirely, his whole body bristling, voice faltering in choked stutters before any syllables can string together into a coherent thought. After several seconds of regaining his composure, he jerks his hand away from you, stuffing it into his pocket, the healthy skin of his cheeks bright pink. 

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s just go,” he murmurs under his breath. 

Fuck. He’s such an idiot. Why didn’t he kiss your hand back or something? Why can’t his heart calm down enough to sweep you off of your feet? Now you’re both heading back to the bar where all of those other puds are going to fumble over your attention just like he is right now. 

One day they won’t, though. 

One day, someone is going to grow a set of balls, and ask you out. 

Dabi’s eyes linger along your body, taking in the curve of your waist, the way you look in those leggings you’ve poured yourself into. Goddamn. If a member of the league doesn’t ask you out, someone on the street sure as hell will. 

“Hey. Yumemi,” his voice cuts into the air, dense and ice-cold, a stark counter to his raging heat. 

“Hmm?” You turn to look at him. 

Your hair is all caught up in the wind, eyes hazy and aglow, like moonlight coming gauzy through the treetops. 

“Don’t dress like this again,”

His command has you taken aback, a gasp caught behind your lips, the small bubble of air clinging to the roof of your mouth. 

“And why is that?” You cross your arms as you question him. 

He watches the way your hip pops out when you become irritated, your attempts to thwart his comment only adding to how adorable you look. Your lips are pursed and nudged to one side, brows lifted in annoyance, one leg jutted out to keep him from walking any further in front of you. Dabi averts his gaze, cutting his eyes to the ground to keep from letting your irises burn holes into his own.

“C’mon. Don’t make me say it,” he swallows the lump in his throat. 

Just tell her she looks good. 

Just tell her she looks good. 

Just tell her she looks good.

“You… I don’t like when you’re dressed like that,”

Sweet Mary mother of my ass, why is that what came out?

You scoff, “You sound like my father. I’ll tell you the same thing I tell him—get over it,”

The rest of the trip home is silent, aside from the arsenal of screams running through Dabi’s head.

When you arrive back at the bar, you’re immediately slinking into your room, giving a polite wave to the rest of the group. Toga follows suit, grinning at Dabi on the way. 

“What did he do?” She asks, taking a seat next to you on the bed. 

“He told me he doesn’t like when I’m dressed like this,” you sigh deeply, “Straight up told me not to dress like this again. Can you fucking believe that, Toga?”

Her smile bears the points of her fangs when she says, “I can believe it,”

“I just… I don’t understand,” you fall back, exasperated, “I’ve actually asked them if they dislike me, and they’ve said that they don’t. Then they do things like this. They tell me they don’t like how I dress, or jump away if I show any sort of even friendly affection, and they’re constantly fighting any time I’m around. I think they’re just trying to spare my feelings or something,”

Toga smoothes the pleats of her skirt, tossing around the dichotomy she’s faced with: the internal struggle within her of whether or not to let you in on the secret game she’s been playing. Fortunately for you, she can’t keep a secret to save her life, even if said secret is partially her own. It’s a truth she knows for gospel. She’d might as well share it.

“Mimi, listen. They’re my best friends. I know them better than I know anyone else. But since you’re my best friend, too, I’m gonna be real honest with you,” she exhales sharply, eyes glinting, the steel in her gaze enough to cut you open, “They wanna bang you and don’t know what to do with themselves,”

“W-what?!” Your voice squeaks, startled to the bone, and you nearly jump from the bed in response.

“Mhm,” her voice ticks up at the end of her phrase, “Half of them have never even kissed a girl and I bet none of them have had any relationships at all. I bet Dabi hasn’t even had sex before. I know Spinner and Shigaraki haven’t. I asked once and they got all defensive. But they’ve all been after you since day one. I’ve been watching it all from the sidelines. I’m surprised that I kept it to myself for this long, I usually can’t,” She rolls around on your bed in a fit of giggles with the way that your expression gives way from confusion to shock. 

You smear your face with both hands.

“So what are you gonna do?” Her voice is laced with something heavy and eager as she leans in to inspect your face more closely.

“I.. I don’t know. I’ve never been in this situation before,”

“You could always make them make the decision for you,” 

“Meaning…?”

Toga balls her fists and places them at her chest, closing her eyes, “If it were me, and this were Izuku and Ochaco, I would jump all over them. We’d all kiss and cuddle and do other relationship things,” golden eyes flicker open, “But you have something I don’t,”

“I do?” Your face screws up with the question.

She nods her head, “Subtlety,”

“Subtlety.. Hmm… Oh,” your eyes snap wide, “subtlety,” 

Alright. Yeah. You can be subtle.

You’re nervous when entering the den, Toga grinning broadly behind you, her mouth stretched impossibly taut across her face. The butterflies are overtaking your belly when she skips over to the couch, leaving you to your own devices. You make your way to the kitchen for a much-needed glass of water, desperate to ease your nerves after the news you’ve just received. It’s a small room sequestered in the back of the bar with little in the way of appliances, snug, hardly a facility at all. The oven is half the size of what you’re used to and the refrigerator is so minuscule that it sits atop the counter, which Mr. Compress is leaning against, his mask already removed to eat an onigiri.

“My, Yumemi, you look as though you’ve seen a ghost,” he tells you between bites. 

“Sorry, I just.. uh…” you think back to what Toga told you a few minutes prior, wrangling in some confidence as you join him at the counter, “Dabi said something to me earlier,”

“Of course he did,” Atsuhiro scoffs.

He pats your hand, the scarlet of his glove the same as the heat festering within you.

You swallow hard.

“Yeah. He said he doesn’t like the way I dress,”

“I can’t say I’m surprised,”

You look at him through your lashes, “Do you like the way I dress?”

He stiffens—in more ways than one—at the husky tone your voice has taken.

Time stretches on, the tight quarters closing in, stirring you up even more.

“I.. I think you always dress quite well,” he says after several heartbeats, and you hum to yourself, pleased with the red hue of his face. 

With a quick glance over his entirety, and a note to yourself at how well his figure is cut in his attire, you open your mouth, lolling your tongue out to receive some of his food. He knows the drill by now. Knows that his compliance has always been appreciated but not required. However, tonight, it feels like much more of a demand. It feels as though he’s the subservient role this time. 

Atsuhiro pinches the pickled plum from his onigiri between his thumb and index finger, and instead of allowing him to drop it into your mouth, you lick it from his fingertips. His breath hitches at the back of his throat. What is happening? You’ve always been so ingenue, and now you’re sucking at his fingers? 

You are absolutely beyond enjoying this. You release his fingers with a pop, and he grips the counter with both hands, eyes wide and near-frantic. Toga was right. They don’t know what to do.

“Anything else you wanna feed me while we’re in here?” The look you give him borders on smug. 

You fucking love how flustered he is right now. 

God, you should’ve tried this weeks ago. 

“L-like what?” The question shakes from him like a branch in the wind. 

You lean into him, a surreptitious flicker in your gaze, “I’m sure you’ll think of something. Let me know when you do,”

Atsuhiro lets out a jumble of sounds not too dissimilar from a sentence as he crumples further against the countertop. It isn't terribly often that he's left without words. In fact, he could count on one hand how many times that's been the case. But never has it taken him quite so offgaurd. This encounter has been intense.

You saunter out of the kitchen, leaving him there, wide-eyed and sweaty. 

Holy shit. 

Holy fucking shit. 

That felt… really good. 

————

You can’t sleep for the rest of the night. You’re too pent up, too high off of the experience from earlier. The way he looked at you, the wilderness in his eyes, the way the perspiration dotted his brow—it’s too much for you to handle. You can’t quiet your mind enough to rest. So here you are, watching TV in the dead of night, pleading with the universe for more. The rest of the league is, to your knowledge, asleep. But the universe has heard your plea. Spinner emerges from his room, somewhat shocked to see you still up and about. 

“O-oh, Yumemi, hey. Are you having trouble sleeping, too?” He stammers, voice strained. 

“Yeah,” you pat the spot next to you on the couch, “Care to keep me company?”

Spinner shuffles in his place, then nods gently, forgoing whatever had initially led him into the den to sit with you. He keeps himself pressed to the farthest side, sunk into the crux of the arm, hands clasped together and knee bouncing, anxiety seeping from his every pore. 

“What, uh.. What’re you watchin’?” The words don’t come naturally to him, the stress apparent in his tone. 

“Mmm, nothing too interesting. I’d rather talk to be honest,” 

“To me?”

“If that’s okay,”

“Y-yeah, of course, I just… uhm, what did ya wanna talk about?”

“Well, Toga said something really interesting to me earlier,” you scoot closer to him, and he tenses, his stomach folding in on itself. 

His throat bobs with his swallow, “She did?”

“Mhm. She said you’ve never kissed anyone before,”

“What?! Fuck, Toga—“

“Is it true?”

From Spinner’s neck to his face washes in a pretty shade of pink, “I mean..” His eyes dart around the room before he relents, “Y-yeah. I guess so,”

“You could practice on me if you wanted,”

The room falls silent aside from the thumping of his heart, pulse in his hands, his mind scrambling to regain sentience.

“This.. This is… D-did Dabi put you up to this?” He cannot fathom a world in which this is an actual offer. 

From you. 

“No,” you say softly, placing a hand on his bicep, the twitching of his muscles able to be felt through his hoodie, “I just thought that, y’know, maybe you wanted to kiss me. For practice. It doesn’t have to be anything serious,”

“I h-haven’t ever—I—well, I-I don’t—“

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want me to be your first kiss,” in spite of feeling somewhat dejected, you understand if this isn’t how he wants his first encounter with a woman to go. Maybe he wants his first kiss to be more meaningful than what you’re offering him right now.

“It’s not that!” He jolts, “I just.. I won’t be very good at it if.. i-if we do,”

So Toga hadn’t steered you wrong. 

It really is all of them that are interested.

You giggle, “That’s why it’s practice,”

Spinner attempts to muffle a yelp as you climb atop him, straddling his waist, plush thighs caging him in. 

“Ready?” You ask him, patting his cheek.

He shakes fiercely enough that he can feel his bones rattling, barely able to finish nodding before you close the space between the two of you entirely, and he lets out a little grunt in surprise with the way that your body slots against him. You ghost your lips across his, plant your hands onto his heaving chest, his heart beating so harshly you can feel it beneath your palms. Gently, you lave your tongue into his mouth, careful not to overstimulate him. A curse leaves him as you part to see the look on his face, and you’re glad you’ve done so. His eyes are heavy, glassy, almost pained that you’ve separated from him this soon. He licks his lips, tasting what’s left of you, his breaths shallow, quick and noisy as a camera’s shutter. 

He’s a fucking mess. 

For the first time, you can sense the prowess of your sexuality coursing through you, neurotoxic, electrifying. 

“Are you finished, or do you think you need more practice?” You catch your bottom lip between your teeth, run your fingertips down his neck in featherlight strokes. 

“More,” he gasps, “I n-need more practice,”

Satisfied with his answer, you press your mouths into a deeper kiss, one that’s hungry, heavy, hot. Naturally, he lets you take the lead. You devour the opportunity with great rapture. He moans into your mouth softly, tentatively, as if he’s struggling to keep these sounds from gushing out of him. It’s cute. Especially when he hovers two shaking hands above your hips. 

“Touch me. Let me hear you. It’s all part of the experience when you kiss like this,” you whisper into the corner of his mouth. 

“Okay, I’ll—ahh—“ his voice cuts into a groan when you lower yourself further onto his lap, and his hands instinctually grip your waist, claws pricking at the skin on either side. 

“See?” You grind up and down the straining length that throbs in his sweatpants, “Doesn’t that feel better, Spinner?”

He tosses his head back onto the couch, his hair mussed behind him, and ruts into you in sloppy, inexperienced movements. 

“Can.. Can you call me Shuuichi?” The words come out so faint that they’re barely audible. 

You grin, grazing the length of his cock so that it rubs your aching clit, and he chokes on a whine that tumbles from his throat. 

“Does it feel better, Shuuichi?”

He melts at the sound of his name, eyes fluttering, brow tilted up into an expression that can only be described as euphoric. All he’s able to muster up is yet another nod of his head, barely holding on to the ever growing tension that’s building within his core. You’ve become incredibly aware of how close he is to cumming in his pants, so you ease the heavy petting, focusing more on the tangle of teeth and tongue that your kiss has evolved into. You nip at his lower lip, eliciting something between a growl and a groan from him. 

Spinner is already almost there. He’s right on the edge, panting, whimpering, cock pulsing against the pressure betwixt your thighs as he trembles and grips your hips fervently. You have a few options. You could let him cum in his pants, watch him unravel here underneath you. Then there’s the next selection of you escalating things, riding him outright, maybe sucking him off. He feels big through his clothes, and though you’re sure he wouldn’t last long, you’re pretty positive he would be a good fuck. 

Or…

“Well, Shuuichi,” you part from him with a wet smack of your lips, plopping back onto the cushion opposite to him once more, “That’s what kissing is like,”

He clutches his still-heaving chest, hair thoroughly ruffled, his currant eyes half-lidded and glazed with desire. 

His mind having been properly disconnected from his body, he asks, “Could we practice more?”

With great difficulty, you stifle a snicker, catch it in your mouth before it can touch the air around you. He really wants you. It was so easy to get him there, so fucking hot to see how pent up you can make him. You want to fuck him. You really do. 

But you want to play with him a little more before you get there.

“Another time. We’ll practice more later. I think I’m gonna go to bed right now, though. Night, Shuuichi,” you say this as nonchalant as you can, traipsing to your room, listening intently at the way he exhales slowly and deeply to calm himself as you exit.

You really like the art of subtlety.

[wonderfullyinlovewithlife]

Hi, how are you?

If it wouldn’t be too much may I request a Finn x Reader witchy fluffy? Maybe light jealous Finn?

Hi Doll,

I’m so sorry for the late response! I’ve been really good thank you. How about yourself?

As for what I’ve cooked up, I hope you like it!

Finn Mikelson x Witch!Reader, Fluff

You sat at your vanity, idly picking at the little ceramic cats you had been gifted by a relative a few years back. They were cute, out-dated, but cute. One orange cat, no bigger than your forefinger was dressed in blue overalls, whereas the white pussycat had a pink sunhat. The orange one came to kiss what you assumed to be the girl cat on the cheek. 

‘Are you still upset with me?’ Finn called from where he stood leaning against the doorway, mindful so as to not come into your bedroom uninvited. He was so gentlemanly in that regard. Observing rules of decorum that you thought had long passed. But now, you just founded a little annoying. He could come into your bedroom, for goodness sake, he was supposed to be your boyfriend. 

‘No.’ You said, staring holes into the little pink sunhat. 

‘You are. And I don’t want you to be. I didn’t mean to offend you with what I said.’

‘You didn’t.’

‘Then may I come in?’

You turned to look at him then. In truth, you weren’t annoyed with him for not calling. But your exhaustion at this past week was making it hard to keep your state in check. ‘Do whatever you want Finn, I’m not the boss of you.’

He walked right over to you and placed his hands on top of your head, gently manoeuvring you to look up at him, so your eyes would meet in the reflection of the oval mirror. 

‘You know you have my heart, so I say this in gest, but I hadn’t expected you to be so child-like in your tantrums.’

‘Of course, you’d think that, compared to you, I am a child. Most people would be children compared to you. You’re like a gazillion years old.’

He pinched your cheek at that. ‘I’m not sorry about what I said before. I want you serious. But I don’t like it when you don’t talk to me.’

You looked down at your little cats, but he was having none of it. Again, he brought your focus back to him. ‘It’s an old spell. Unnecessarily complex for the sake of it. I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you weren’t taking this seriously, but I do want you present. Fully.’

‘Yeah, yeah. I know.’ 

‘So, am I forgiven?’

You winked at him. ‘Depends on whether we go out to eat or not.’

—----

Finn had grown accustomed to the Mystic Grill out of necessity. In his opinion, it was too loud and busy, and the food, though perfectly reasonable, was not so good as to have him justify coming to a place like this. But he did, and he did so often because you liked it and all your friends were always here, and it made you happy when he came with you, and so, like the fool he felt like when he was around you, he did as you pleased.

‘Oh look, it’s Kasey!’ You waved at a girl by the pool table. She was of the non-descript type. Mousy brown hair, but with a big smile. She waved back, and in her doing so, the guy behind her, turned to look at you as well. Finn caught how his eyes looked you up and down, licking his lips in a way that felt unnecessarily cartoonish. If this were any other place, he’d have him expelled from the premises, but he didn’t want to upset you any more than he already had. 

—

‘Who’s that?’ He asked as you both got comfortable in the booth by the fireplace. It was the closest thing to ‘intimate dining’ as it got in this place.

‘Oh, Kasey. We were on the cheer team together.’

‘Right. And that man behind her?’

‘The one with the buzz-cut? I don’t really know. I mean, I know he used to hang around Jeremy and Vicki Donovan – I don’t think you know her. Urm, but….I think he dropped out of high school a couple of years ago, he was a little older than Vicki. But everyone always just says that he deals. But, again, I don’t know.’ You craned your neck back to look at them on the pool table, the man in question catching you look.’ Wonder why Kasey’s hanging around him though.’ You turned back to Finn. ‘He gives me the creeps though.’

‘He seems to be intrigued by you.’ 

‘Gross.’

‘You should ask her why she’s associating with a man like that, didn’t you mention something about her wanting to be on middle school girl council thing–’

‘Yeah! You remembered, it’s the Mystic Girls Rep Community, which is just our town's girl scouts. You know how everyone is here, gotta put Mystic Falls in the title otherwise it doesn’t count.’ You smiled at him. ‘What a sneaky way of trying to change the subject. You’re jelly that the guys looking at me.’ 

Finn gave you one of those looks he reserved specifically for Kol, which you had learned was his way of nonverbally asking, "Are you being serious right now?"

‘Look at my man. Jealous!’ You sounded way to happy. ‘Ha. Who would have thought I would have lived to see the day?’

‘Oh shush,’ He said, but not denying it. ‘You should ask her. Something might not be right.’

‘Interesting tactic, Mr.Mikaelson, but the cats are already out of the bag. You must really like me, huh?’

‘Well, I have entered a formal union with you; I would say yes.’

‘Wow, what a way to kill the fun that comes with just saying girlfriend, but sure. I’ll take it.’

‘I won’t feed you if you keep this up.’

‘Oh, you so totally will. Because don’t forget, no food, no motivation, no magic.’

He sighed in what sounded like exhaustion, but a strangely love-sick expression was on his face.’ Pick something and eat.’

‘Yes, Boss!’ You gave him a half-hearted salute and started flicking through the menu, a performative measure, of course. He already knew what you were going to get. 

[la-rougo]

*SFW*-

Beelzebub x Chaotic Diety! GN Reader

I need to see how my boy will handle with this one

A/n: I am in LOVE with him, (bc he shares the same name w my big orange demon himbo main— and shares the same va with anasui!!!!) and fear not my friends, this is pure-

-FLUFF (maybe angst but mainly fluff idk)

You’re not really a new diety, more like you’re new to him

When he first met you he just ignores you

But with your silliness and no self awareness, you follow him and tries to be ‘friends’ with him

He didn’t care so he just let you be, when you ask him anything he just answers bluntly or ignores you

But you couldn’t stop leaving him alone, not only that but you also cause troubles around him (but not to him)

He started to feel annoyed but once he completely gives you full attention, he feels warmer

Even how much stupid stuffs you have done (including accidentally ruins his experiment which he almost kills you for that) he couldn’t help but likes your company

He starts to talk to you a little bit more everyday which already makes you head over heels

He feels admired by you and it makes him feels strange, he isn’t supposed to feel any kind of affection. At least that’s what he always thought

Of course you take notice about his oddly behavior so you question him about it

He panicked slightly when he realized that his weird feelings are starting to become obvious, so he starts to avoid from you as much as possible

It’s absolutely impossible for him to run away from you since you’re his biggest fan ig/hj

He knows the consequences if he doesn’t stop his feelings, but it’s hard for him. He can barely do anything without having you around him

You decided to maybe give him a little space, or hang out with him less. Once everything is settled, you asked him a question

“Why are you keep running away from me? Did i do anything wrong?”

You asked him and he stopped mid way through his walk

Beelzebub sighed, he turned slightly at you with the same empty expression

“Here’s a better question. Why do you keep following me?”

You gulped, it feels slightly suffocating, his question makes you turn your head away from him slightly. You’re not prepared for this question, not at all. You never really thought that he would ask this and just let you follow him but here they are.

“Because I like you?”

He look at you with a *pardon?* kind of face, you turn away completely. You’re sweating like hell

“What?”

“What?”

He sighs again, turning to walk away from you

“Wait- aren’t you going to answer me? Boi! Don’t turn your back on me!!”

You catch up on him with a little pout

“Now that you got your answer, it’s my question for you to answer now”

Beelzebub rolls his eyes and fastened his walk

“Nope”

And he’s running

“Beeellll!!!!!!”

Andddd you’re chasing him, you quickly catch up to him again and grab his arm gently

“Cmon, the question is not that hard to answer ya pussycat!”

“Will you just shut up”

“I will if you answer my question emo boy”

He sighs defeat, he doesn’t even want to talk to you about the harm that’s coming to you, he feels bad, he feels sick inside, he feels scared.

“I don’t want to hurt you”

You tilted your head slightly

“What?”

Then, beelzebub became curious. Can you help him out of his hellhole? he wonders if you might be the one

“Never mind, just ignore whatever had happened earlier”

You look at him with a very confused face, but shrugs it off when beelzebub continues his walk again

The more time has pass, more affection you give him. With also, the more his feelings had grown

He feels bad deeply, he knows one day he— no, satan will kill you if he can’t stop himself so he have to stay away from you as much as he can, but he couldn’t bring himself to do so

If you actually manage to survive or break satan’s curse though

My boy ain’t gonna hold back☹️

Saying beel is shocked is an understatement, bro is absolutely flabbergasted

You somehow managed to break his satan curse and he’s shitting tears fr

After that, he didn’t immediately shows affection. He just take his time to understand affections and loves more clearly after being free, but of course you help him with that

“Now that I’m free…”

Beelzebub place his hands on both sides of your shoulders to stare at you… intensely

“Uh… beel?” It’s kinda awkward and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him so you just look away

“I hate how you make me feel”

You looked back at him and make a confused face

“What do you mean?”

Bros kinda frustrated ngl but he takes a deep breath and thinks abt what to say

“I… how do i say this. Hm… I uhh

— I love you”

Beel is dying inside how he managed to actually said that

“I love everything about you, i love how you make me feel loved, i love how you make me feel happy. Even if you never listen to me but that’s what i also love about you”

And he continues so on, you on the other hand is dying by his words. I absolutely think that beelzebub is not good with words but he’s trying

“I love you too beelz..”

You’re on the verge of crying out tears of happiness, after you two confessed beel hugs you tightly and you felt him crying in your shoulder

“Are you crying?”

“No.”

Beelzebub feel like the happiest man ngl, he finally got to love freely like other people do. Nothing can describe how happy he is

He doesn’t change much after the curse broke but he smiles a lot more when he’s with you and become slightly clingy

Once beel is used to being free he’ll just bomb you with affections, mainly actions cause we found lovely dovely words to be awkward for him

Of course you wouldn’t mind that, he’ll thought endlessly that he doesn’t deserve you but you shut him up

“You’re too kind… I don’t deserve you to have as a lover, I can’t have you… you deserve someone else better than me”

Beel said while burying his face in your shoulder from behind

“Oh shut up! You’re the best lover I could ever ask for, I love you with my whole heart and I won’t stop loving you even after death. So stop thinking like that and enjoy every moment of us, of course without thinking about that”

Beel lift his head up to stare at you with a deep sigh, you turn slightly to him and peck his cheeks. Beel can’t help but feel the corner of his lips lifted

He overthinks a lot even after his curse had disappeared, but you kept comforting him saying that there’s nothing to worry about and he should relax more, he used to think that he has fallen into the pit of despair, with nothing to lift him up. But once he’s with you, he feels the opposite of what he used to feel, he feels like he’s the happiest man ever

He loves you dearly and so do you

[vincentspissfleshlight]

@covet-lovett since you’re unwell here’s a little treat for you!~

What is Matthew like when you’re sick?

Unlike Vincent showing you that he cares more than words.. Matthew.. well.. if you’re that trustful towards him he might go soft for you. It’s giving.. big angry motorcycle man, gentle softie energy.

Annoyed as hell at first, buuuut not because he doesn’t care for you!.. he’s giving you the eye roll and say something like, “Great. Now I gotta play nurse.” He’s bad at expressing emotions and showing any signs of vulnerabilities and weaknesses just like his step father said “you’re never a real man if you shed a tear for such useless crap. Men don’t cry” He’d act like it’s an inconvenience but actually like the idea of caring for someone like his dear old mum did, saying stuff like.. “die on me and I ain’t diggin’ ya a grave let alone buyin’ you a casket!” And “oh for goddamn fuckin’ sak— alright I’ll take care of you, but you BETTER get well, or I’m beatin’ the flu outta you.”

There he will sit next to you on the bed, arms crossed, watching over you like a guard dog. He might just brush your hair out of your face and check your temperature every now and then.. if you ask him why he looks so tired he denies having to do anything in your sleep..

“Uhhh I d-didn’t do fuckin’ shit. Yer just drooling all over face. And there’s snot all over your face too”

*Secretly stayed up all night for you, watching your every move so you wouldn’t die in your sleep*

If you were getting worse he’d ask for his personal doctor that is apart of his Angels Of Death gang, Connor “Doc” Callahan (Club Medic & Patch Member) to help out Matthew would be pacing around the MC bar while worried about you, if one of his boys asked why he was worried about you? He’d give them a quick black eye and march back to where you are and say “ that’s enough. Back the fuck off. They’re mine—I mean, I got this. Let me do this.” (Shhh he secretly is possessive of you, more than Vincent is tbh)

Matthew is a terrible cook.. he’d try to make you chicken noodle soup or his childhood soup that would help him while he was sick as a child that his mum made (Matt put too much spices and made it watery and you choked on the spices) so instead of that.. he ordered you whatever you wanted and sped out on his motorcycle to fetch it for you, come bsck and feed you the food.

“Open your trap up, I’m not letting you eat by yourself.. what? Don’t look at me like that.. I’ll eat your food instead huh?” *matthew took a bite out of your meal and shot you a cocky smirk but you smacked him on the head with a water bottle*

“Alright ow— Jesus— sorry!”

Matthew knows you hate swallowing pills so he had no other way to make you take the Panadol/ibuprofen..

“Take the damn pills. Don’t make me sit on ya or force ‘em down ya throat. There you go, see? Wasn’t so hard now wasnt it?”

If you cry/groan or whimper from the pain, he’ll actually comfort you, but in a gruff way. “Hey. Stop that. You’re gonna be fine, alright? Stop being a pussycat..”

You didn’t eat anything today?? Oh shit. Matthew would look at you, panic for a while until he’d sternly say “the fuck do you mean you haven’t eaten all day? *sighs* Here” *he hands you his phone* “order whatever you want, just don’t forget to maybe get an extra bit of food for me.. I’ll pay.”

(He’s a big dumb sweetheart, unless you know him well then he’d probably show you.)

If your really sick, dying type beat? He’d (gently) throw you on in front of him on his motorcycle and hold you with one hand and steer down the road with the other, speeding away and breaking traffic laws (again) he didn’t give a shit, and when you looked up at him he actually looked worried for you.. for once, it seemed that he actually did care. Finally you’re at the hospital now and feeling and not looking like a walking corpse.

Matt never left your side. Will sleep in the most uncomfortable chair just to stay close, even with one eye open (he’s only got one eye lol) and after that he would threaten the doctors, even pay them a little visit with his MC if the doctor accidentally pierced the wrong vein making you bleed a little— even if it was an accident. “If you fuck this up, I swear to god that me n’ my boys would make you bleed by accident.”

Ahh you’re all better now, and I think Matt is the one looking like a walking corpse now. Maybe you could play nurse this time.

“You’re feeling better now huh? I’m glad—“ *sneezes* “no, don’t you even dare think about it—“

[jennamoran]

The Birds Are Saying That It's Nearly Spring

(original script follows, with apologies for the microphone glitch at the beginning; I am not opening my audio editing software for these yet.)

Today I read a letter that I’ve been saving for some time I need a pick-me-up. It’s probably ... not what you’re supposed to do with letters. But it’s what I did. I’m really bad at snail mail.

And there was this line in it, from my friend, about how the birds were saying it was nearly spring.

That’s another start to a story, you know? And another end to one.

The birds are saying that it’s nearly spring.

They’d be pretty confused to be saying that now. That kind of suggests a science fiction sort of thing. The birds don’t get to have their own life cycles any more. They’re saying it’s nearly spring because they’re part of a media push saying the worst is over, when it’s not even quite begun.

... but that’s depressing.

As is robot birds predicting spring in an empty world.

You could go the opposite way, and talk about all the good things that are coming—

Because good things will still come.

You could talk about the people who will still find happiness. Who will make light and magic from this broken world. The people who go around winding up the birds, and find a joy in that.

... that might be the story, or it might be too thin, too emotional, too much poetry and not fiction.

I feel like I want to work with my audience directly a little more. That’s why I was pushing so much for other people to write stories in the replies and reblogs last night. Maybe you can share a line or experience that resonated with you, though, if that was asking too much in these not-very-spring-like times—or just too much for me to ask of you. Instead?

The thing I think of most, I think, though, is choice.

A bird, its heart breaking, deciding that it will be spring. That it will make it spring, if spring does not come.

A broken-down robot bird, maybe. But then there’s a fluttering in its heart like the fluttering of wings.

Like, we open on a world that’s lost its springtime. The protagonist hears the birds singing, but it’s a lie.

… hrm.

I don’t want to get too maudlin, or the ending won’t mean anything. I can’t talk about what’s happened to the environment, or will happen, without getting maudlin. So let’s skip that.

The birds tell me that it’s nearly spring. But they’re wrong. The Thief of Spring stuck it in his sack, and fled away ...

The Hamburglar?

Um.

The birds tell me that it’s nearly spring. But birds don’t keep up with marketing. (I’m kind of bad at it myself.)

The spring we used to know was lost when a rogue marketing AI working for the Springs and Sprockets Company ...

Not quite.

The birds tell me that it’s nearly spring.

It’s not.

The thief was cackling as he ran away. He wore a mask, like a bandit’s mask. He had a sack. He picked up spring, and laughed.

Dang it. I can’t make it not maudlin. I think it’s my own mood tonight.

The birds tell me that it’s nearly spring. It’s not. The raccoons dragged it out of the summer trash and ate it up, and then they washed their thieving hands.

We’re replacing spring this year with Folger’s Crystals. Let’s see if the birds notice.

The birds tell me that it’s nearly spring.

“Nobody cares what you think,” I tell them. They just sing on.

I’m sitting on the riverbank in the first year without a spring. I’m watching them bouncing on the wires. They’re just so sure.

But I’m sure too.

There was this dude, he had a sack. It was probably the literal worst thing that I’ve ever had to watch on TV, and I’ve seen Josie and the Pussycats like, seven times.

He just ... walked up, across the sky, and took it.

You aren’t supposed to take spring. You aren’t supposed to be able to, but even if you could, even if all of us could just pocket the occasional hour or season now and then, it’s wrong.

There’s a lot of debate on this, these days, I think. Like, people will say, oh, you’re just problematizing the thief of spring. You’re projecting your own moral framework on someone who’s probably from a different culture what with being a giant dude with a sack and all.

They found the guy’s AO3 account, and the comment war’s still raging on.

But like ...

I think, it’s just me, but I think, you shouldn’t be allowed to just take the spring. That all four seasons are a human right.

My friend tells me there used to be five seasons and that I’m taking this too personally.

The birds, though, they aren’t taking this at all.

Light spreads. Dawn comes. Thank God, you know, he didn’t take the sun.

It would have burned him, though, I think. It would have writhed in his hand, and screamed, and burned with the fury of a thousan—

A hund—

It would have burned him with the fury of like, one sun, but that’s still a lot, the way that suns will tend to do.

The birds go quiet and I get up. I’ve got too much to do today.

I’ve got too much to do every day. It’s like the work is eating at my skin. Then I come home and get to think about other people’s pain instead.

Unless I’m too tired, and I have to sleep.

There’s too much to do, but I’m still out there again tomorrow. Listening to the birds, as they tell me of the coming spring.

It is the second day of summer.

It is the second day of summer, by the sun. By the heat. By the rotting smells. There is an early light, and it burns for long.

But the birds don’t know about stolen time.

The birds still tell me of the coming spring.

I think they’re starting to get it, though. I think they’re starting to realize that they missed their chance, if there ever was one. Their mating cycles gone awry, and for the ones who in their blind pursuit of lust and love and song have chicks regardless, they will be autumn chicks, to grow beneath the falling leaves and die, uncertain, in the snow.

I think.

I am not an expert on the birds. For all I know they’ll all be fine.

I don’t know, you see, so I mourn them anyway. If I had time to study birds I would. If I had time to sit and be with them all day. If I had time.

There’s only nine months in a year, you know, and twenty hours in a day.

There is water at the base of the hill. I don’t dare get too close to it. And still they sing.

It is the seventh day of summer.

I honestly can’t tell today if there is heartbreak in their song, or confusion, or if it’s all projection. I watched this old commercial once about how dogs don’t know that some dog treat isn’t bacon.

We overestimate our understanding of the epistemology of dogs, and birds as well.

But I think I hear it, you know?

I tihnk I hear this heartbreak, this denial, this shriek of outrage rising in the birds, growing louder in the undertones of their singing every day; until the sun is up too soon, and I can’t make it for that early morning singing any more.

(dinner)

So I stop, and I live my life, as autumn ever nears. I only even think of it again when I pass the occasional dead bird out there rotting on the road.

I only think of it again when the sun begins to rise a little later every day, and I can join the birds again.

Their outrage has died down, I think. Become a quiet kind of sob, so soft they can’t even hear the thing themselves.

They live in heartbreak, now, and do not sing of it, as autumn nears. As the final day of summer comes.

They do not expect the spring now; not any longer.

Not any longer, except for one.

I know this bird, I think. I saw their nest, once, though it’s not there now. The branch on which it sat has broken, and any eggs it had are gone.

It’s still telling me that spring is near.

Though, I guess, telling—telling might not be the right word, any more. It is not telling but demanding; it is singing, as commanding; its heart as broken as the others, but not accepting all is lost.

It sings as if to break the world, to rip apart the sack of god, to shake apart the settled way of things and demand that spring will come.

It sings the rising fire of the sun.

--

That’s mostly told in one piece, because I wanted to give you an actual story this time.

I didn’t want to end ambiguously—well, I guess I did, but I didn’t want to end with the kind of ambiguity that makes you think this is a story about failure. I wanted to leave it open what happened, because it was too trite to just declare the spring into existence, but at the same time, make the story feel like that was the end.

My first try, which I’ve moved out of sequence, was:

It sings as if to break the world, to rip apart the sack of god, to shake apart the settled way of things and demand that spring will come.

I keep thinking of that commercial, about how dogs don’t know that it’s not bacon. Half the stuff they sell now isn’t bacon, either. Life isn’t substance but experience.

…

But that just led to the trite version.

To finish this up, I’d probably make winter flow backwards instead of skipping forward into summer. It’d lose some of the parallels with global warming, and it’d lose the nice bit about days starting earlier until they got too early, but ... I think it would hit harder, anyway, if the bird was trying to sing away the cold and not the warm.

I’m probably not going to do that, or at least not today, because today I’m talking about process and not editing to completion.

Anyway, this has been Jenna Moran; peace out.

[emberdew]

Be More Ghost Chapter 14: Do You Wanna Hang?

Summary:

A Be More Chill AU where Danny gets a Super Quantum Intel Unit Processor (or Squip) to help him become cool and win over Valerie, but things don't really go as planned.

Masterpost | AO3 Link | Word Count: 1,496

Do you wanna hang for a bit?  Just you and me, intimately, talking about all of our feelings and shit.

Danny felt a bit uneasy as Paulina led him into a bedroom on the second floor of Dash’s house. She said that Star had a surprise for him, but why would that require her to lead him up here?

“Dash’s parents’ room,” Paulina said as she closed the door and locked it behind them. “Don’t worry, they’re not using it.”

“You, uh, really know your way around.” Danny was pretty sure he had never been in this room before. He remembered phasing into Dash’s bedroom down the hall the first time he’d been to a party at his house. He really hoped Technus didn’t attack again tonight.

Paulina sat on the bed and patted the spot next to her. Danny sat down and flinched slightly in surprise when Paulina started rubbing his arm.

“Yeah, I’ve been kissed in pretty much every room in this house,” Paulina smirked at Danny’s alarmed expression, “because I dated Dash! Dios mío, what kind of girl do you think I am?”

Danny wasn’t sure how to respond to that. It was pretty nice having all of Paulina’s attention though. It was a bit like when they were dating that time Kitty overshadowed her. That thought led Danny to check Paulina’s eyes to make sure she wasn’t overshadowed this time. They looked hazel without any red glint, so he was pretty sure the only ghost in the room was him.

Wait, weren’t they supposed to meet Star here?

“Where’s Star?”

“Oh my god, you are too freaking adorable!” Paulina leaned close and whispered in Danny’s ear. “Star’s not coming.”

“She’s not? Then why…?” Danny tried to pull himself back slightly but Paulina just leaned closer into his space.

“Do you wanna hang for a bit? It’s just us all alone in here… We could get all intimate and talk about our feelings and stuff.” 

Paulina whipped out a dazzlingly pink Sayonara Pussycat-themed water bottle and started chugging it. From the smell, Danny could tell there definitely wasn’t water in there. Where had she been keeping that?

“Do you wanna get really deep?” Paulina’s face was just inches away from Danny’s now. Her seductive gaze entranced him. “We could connect and if I get wrecked you could… y’know.”

Danny felt his cheeks heat up at her implication. She was so close to him now that their noses were almost touching. He could smell the alcohol on her breath.  

“I have to go.” Danny tried to get up but his legs wouldn’t move. It was like he was stuck to the bed. “I can’t stand up.”

You’re welcome. Squip-Phantom winked at him from where it was sitting by his side opposite Paulina. 

Danny gulped as he realized the Squip had somehow taken over his body enough to prevent him from moving.

“I don’t know why she likes you so much. You’re not that cute, even if you are dressed like my favorite hero. No offense,” Paulina interrupted Danny’s growing panic.

“None taken. I should get back-” 

“You know she’s not that innocent. That wounded puppy routine? It’s how she gets all the guys,” Paulina continued, waving her arms around in frustration. “Acts all helpless so they want to protect her. Not that I care.”

Danny had been so concerned with his current problems that he was barely listening to Paulina’s rant about Star but suddenly it clicked in his mind what was going on with her. His friends may call him clueless, but even he could tell that Paulina’s feelings about Star weren’t what they seemed.

“You’re jealous of Star!”

“Um, obviously I’m not,” Paulina scoffed.

“That’s unbelievable! Why would you be jealous of anyone? You’re the prettiest girl at our school!” Danny flinched as he realized how embarrassing it was to say that to her face. 

Suddenly Paulina grabbed the front of Danny’s jumpsuit and kissed him. Danny’s eyes went wide and he tried to pull away. 

“Woah, woah!” Danny’s brain felt like it was short-circuiting. Why had Paulina kissed him? What was going on? “Stop!” 

Why would you want this to stop? The Squip gave Danny a disappointed look. 

“Do you wanna stop being coy?” Paulina smirked at him. “I know you want me.”

She offered him her bright pink bottle. 

“Oh, I’m not really a big-” Danny started to refuse, but his arm jerked forward out of his control and he was forced to put the bottle up to his mouth and take a drink. “Drinker!” 

Danny sputtered and tried to fight for control of his body again, but it was like Squip-Phantom was puppeting him. It reminded him of Freakshow’s ghost-controlling staff except he was completely aware of what was happening. He shuttered internally and tried not to let his panic overwhelm him. 

The Squip pushed his body forward until he was kissing Paulina again. She kissed him back, but it felt so wrong. He was glad when a knock at the door interrupted them and he could pull away. 

“Danny? Are you in there?” Star asked from the other side of the door.

Danny opened his mouth but Paulina covered it and shushed him.

“Ashley said she saw you go upstairs,” Star muttered as she knocked on the door again, “Danny?” After a moment, Danny heard her footsteps moving away.

Danny sighed as Paulina moved her hand away from his face.

“If Ashley saw us…”

“Ashley should mind her own business,” Paulina snapped.

“Star’s going to find out.” Danny gestured towards the door. “Don’t you care?”

“You’re a lot less cute when you’re talking.” 

Danny ran a hand down his face and turned to his other side where the Squip was still sitting. 

“Help me out here!” 

Squip-Phantom garbled something incoherent in what sounded like Japanese. It didn’t look as solid as usual and the edges of its form were glitching out.

“What’s going on?”

The Squip frowned in concentration and seemed to solidify slightly.

I’m sorry, Danny. Alcohol temporarily scrambles my- another wave of glitchiness distorted the Squip and the rest of what it said was too overloaded with static to make out. 

“Then why did you make me drink it!?” Danny ran a hand through the white hair of his wig in exasperation. 

The Squip attempted a response but all Danny heard was more incomprehensible static and garbled Japanese. At the very end, Danny thought he heard it say ‘You’ll thank me later.’ 

Danny turned back to Paulina who seemed unamused. To her, Danny had been looking away from her and mumbling at the wall for the past few minutes.

“Whatever.” Paulina crossed her arms. “I’ve had enough-”

A loud knocking sound interrupted her.

“FENTURD?” Dash shouted as he continued pounding on the door.

“Ooh, the fun begins!” Paulina clapped giddily. 

“FENTOAD, you better not be having a make-out session on my parents’ bed or you’re toast!”

“You can toast him after I’m done with him!” Paulina grabbed Danny’s arm even though the door was still closed.

“...Paulina?” Dash paused his knocking at the realization.

The doorknob rattled as Dash tried to get in the locked room. Then the door thudded so loud Danny thought it might break. Was Dash throwing himself against the door?

“Hear that?” Paulina pursed her lips and made exaggerated kissing sounds, “I’m making out with Danny all over your parents’ room!” 

“No, we’re not, I swear we’re not!” Danny cried out. 

The thumping on the door stopped and after several minutes of silence, Danny let out a sigh of relief. 

“Maybe he believed me and went away.”

An ear-piercing crack shattered Danny’s shred of hope as well as the window. Danny turned to see Dash’s fist covered in blood and broken glass spilling onto the floor.

Behind him, Danny heard Squip-Phantom pulse with static like an alarm. But before he could do anything about that, Paulina pulled him closer again and tried to kiss him. Danny managed to turn his head to the side so it landed on his cheek.

“You’re freaking dead, Fen-toast!” Dash vaulted through the broken window and landed ungracefully on the floor.  

“Go away, we’re making out right now!” Paulina lied.

Danny finally focused enough to phase out of Paulina’s grip and run for the door. He quickly opened it only to almost smack face-first into Star. 

“Danny?” Star took a step back. 

“Star!” Danny felt like his feet were frozen to the ground. The feeling melted when he heard Dash stand up in the room behind him.

“FENTINA!” 

Danny whispered an apology to Star before pushing her aside and sprinting down the hall. He could hear Dash in pursuit directly behind him, which only made Danny pick up the pace. 

“I’ll kill you!” Dash screamed from behind him right before the jock stumbled to the ground after rounding a corner too quickly. “Oh man, I shouldn’t have drank so much tonight.”

Danny took his chance to escape.

[evita-shelby]

12 Days of Smuff: Day 3

Day 3: in nature + deep-throating

Luca Changretta x Eva Smith

Cw: hiking, mentions of bear shit and smut.

The only reason he had agreed to give the country club a chance was because it was a symbol of wealth.

Luca had grown in cities, the only nature he knew of was the one in parks and gardens.

His wife had split her time between various country homes even when she was in boarding school in the capital city. She had readily accepted the cottage her family leased every summer at the rather exclusive country club before Luca could pretend to have an opinion about it.

After the loss of their first child, Luca didn’t like denying her anything and he saw no problem in spending a week in upstate New York doing whatever the fuck rich people do in the country.

“We should go for walk today.” Eva said dressing in utilitarian clothing he had never seen and tossed him clothes he doesn’t recall ever being fitted for.

Tweed clothes, the hardy kind men wear for work. Like the one the Shelbys would wear because that’s all they had.

But he trusts his maga and wears them to their hike. It was just a walk anyways, nothing special about it just like the swimming and the games here.

“Eva, I think we should stick to the path.” The Italian Capo says as he evades the bear shit on the ground.

Knowing his wife, they might as well be going to see the bears.

“Trust me, its going to be worth it.” The witch says when they leave the clearly outlined paths and walk past the signs that warn of bears.

It isn’t.

There are bugs, more shit, dead animals in various states of decay and they don’t seem to be getting anywhere.

Eva isn’t bothered at all, chatting and telling him how close they are to their destination while looking as fresh as a daisy.

“I fucking hate this place, why did I listen to you?” he complains after they stop for a break in a clearing.

“Because I am always right.” Eva doesn’t look bothered by his words. In fact, she was counting on it going by the way she kissed him against the tree. “Anyways, we’re here.”

At some point she admitted that she wanted to fuck in the woods, to see the trees and the skies as he ruined her pussy where no one but God could see them.

Luca supposed it was all worth it when Eva got on her knees for him.

She had a wicked mouth, one that had him grateful to god that the man who taught her how to do this was already dead.

His hand threads itself in her hair and pulls at the ponytail she wears for the occasion. He thrusts deeper into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat with a groan.

Eva had learned to take him all the way by the time they came back from Italy, plenty of practice with how greedy his pussycat was for his cock.

“You can suck out my soul through my cock, strega, but we’re never doing this again.” The Capo warned as he stopped her ministrations before sinking down her throat before fucking her face in earnest.

[aajjks]

NWO!JK

“jungkook? what are you—oh my gosh! of course i can help you out. here, come in come in” mj ushers jungkook to her couch before running to her kitchen to grab some ointment and ice packs. with jungkook’s permission, she lifts his shirt and cleans the cuts with alcohol wipes before applying ointment to reduce the burning. “sorry” she apologizes as she gently rubs the ointment in and applies ice to his rib area which seems to be hurting the most.

“how did this happen?” mj asks but jungkook lies and blames it on a street fight he got into at school. she knows it’s a lie but decides not to comment too much about it and focus on healing him. her eyes pan down to the blood crystal around his neck then to the bracelet around his wrist. “you’re still wearing my gifts?” mj smiles as she points out the crystallized jewelry before bringing her focus to the bruise on his face. she cleans the cuts on his lips and cheek before applying the ice pack to reduce any swelling or inflammation.

“be right back. let me grab some more ointment” mj says as she leaves jungkook alone on the couch and goes inside her room to retrieve more ointment and a the blade she used to retrieve your blood with. meanwhile, jungkook begins to take in mj’s clean apartment.

her living room is neat and towards the window are books about crystals and what each of them do. curiously, he goes over to the bookshelf and begins to skim through the pages before he finds a series of notes and drawings:

https://pin.it/NRTaRwHba

-smoke bombs made from smoky quartz crystals ✔️

-equip outfit with access to aquamarine ✔️

-black diamond for super strength?

-obsidian ingrained for protection ✔️

-catwoman? ❌

-the black cat? ✔️

-pussycat? ❌

-the doll? ❌

the next thing he finds is a map with X’s over all of the local crystal shops. shop that the black cat robbed. he continues to skim through the pages but the last thing he finds is a small tube containing blood with your name on it.

“i found some more ointment!” yells mj who emerges from her bedroom and sees jungkook sitting on the couch in the same position she left him. “let me see your arm. this might hurt a bit”

~🫧

His anger is bubbling up once again, oh, he is seeing red, the crystal around his neck glows really brightly before dimming down, just as he tries to compose himself because…

“Oh… you’re here oh my God.. don’t worry just put it on me.” He forces a smile on his face. Letting her put the ointment on his arm.

Jungkook doesn’t blink as he lets her do the work on his arm, he clenches his jaw he thinks about all of the fights he got into with black cat until now.

It’s so funny he feels so stupid right now, of course she’s black cat. Jungkook notices her features and then he sees some bruises underneath her foundation..

Aka the punch, he gave her two days ago.

“Wow.. you’re so good at this aren’t you? What a pro.” He suddenly speaks, after some silence. Complimenting her aiding skills.

“you know you have a really nice apartment…” he says once again, as she finishes, putting the ointment on his arm

“and you’re really a crystal goddess aren’t you like I love your obsession with them…” he laughs, using his finger to point out, the crystals littered all over her decorations.

“you know one would think that you’re the black cat herself because she’s always stealing crystals and you’ll have a lot of them, I mean… I would suggest that you stay away from her. She’s such a bitch who ruins everyone’s reputation like she ruined Spider-Man’s…” he grits his teeth, while laughing again, when she finally looks up at him, but he quickly composes himself once again.

As he’s looking at her, he wants nothing more than to choke her and actually kill her, but he needs some answers first. She’s obviously very cunning, but why does she have a tube with your blood in it?

“Well.. Morgan as you know that I had a fight with yn… and you know you’re so caring like her.. maybe even more so…” he looks at her, using a low tone, as he smiles.

“and you’re so beautiful too.. goodness.” He looks directly into her eyes.

She wants to play a game, right? Well, he will play a game with her. This is like a game between a cat and a mouse, but in this case? It will be a game between a spider and a cat.

And the spider will actually kill the cat.

“thank you for helping me out with my bruises.. and injuries i better get on my way home now…”

•••

As he finally gets home, he feels ashamed when he looks at his aunt because of his earlier behavior today with her too..

He hurt her feelings as well.

So he quietly gets into his room, and as he prepares to go into the bathroom so he can wash himself properly, he takes off his necklace, and goes into his bathroom

And as soon as he gets him into his bathroom, he starts to sob loudly, because that’s when it properly hits him that He’s probably lost you forever.

“Y-Yn I’m so sorry.. pretty girl I love you so much.” He says while he sobs looking at himself in the mirror, but all he feels is shame.

•••

After his session in the bathroom, he’s laying in his bed, almost lifelessly. He hasn’t even bothered to put on his clothes properly, all he’s wearing is a sweatpants right now.

He’s locked himself in his room, out of guilt

Why is it hitting him so hard just now that he’s hurt you physically emotionally and mentally.

And not just you but his best friend and his auntie as well.

Jungkook cannot help it anymore, he decides to pick his phone up from his bed before sending you a text.

Yn ❤️‍🩹♥️

I’m coming over… please talk to me. I know I fucked up today but I need to see you.

[violetlunette]

The Ramshackle Un-Birthday Interview: Name

Summary: Ace asks Yuu about his name as part of his unbirthday interview.

Notes: This is part of the Un-birthday interview for my Yuusona who is Twisted from the Mad Doctor.

Warnings: *Mild language *Mentions of death and nearly dying

“Merow~! Look, Yuu! Don’t I look awesome?” Grim twirled to show off the suit he wore.

The pussycat had made a big deal at Ace’s party the day before about never having a party for himself. When asked about his own birthday, and Yuu responded he couldn’t recall the date as he never bothered to celebrate. As such, Aduce felt bad and convinced Riddle to host an unbirthday party for them. While unnecessary, Yuu was highly touched by the gesture.

“Grim, you’re a cat,” he said in response to the other. “You always look cute.” Grim pouted at the off-hand response.

“Hmph! That may be true, but you can still look!” he whined

“If I already know how you look, why do I have to?”

“Yuu~!”

Yuu ignored him as he was fussing with his tie. For some reason, his hand wasn’t working the way it was supposed to. (It may have been from the burns he acquired when he caught the pot earlier.) He knotted the tie for now. Once done, he looked himself in the mirror.

The best way to describe Yuu was that he had a cute face, but it was shame what he did to it and the rest of his body.

His skin was gray from lack of sleep and sunlight, but that was the least of its troubles.

“Self-care” in Yuu’s book was resetting bones and stitching himself up to get back to work. As such, it was colored by dark bruises and bright scars.

His face was technically cute, but only because it was round and childlike. Though compared to the hot model types that filled the school, his face looked like a death’s head.

‘Not that I mind, as it keeps folks from messing with me.’ He frowned at himself, bushing a wave of hair behind his ear. He was debating something when Grim jumped in front of him.

“Heeey! Listen! You got a lot of nerve to ignore me, human!” he whined. Yuu rolled his eyes.

“Okay, okay!” he conceded, looking Grim over like the other wanted.

Like Yuu, Grim wore a white coat with a black sash across his chest. To Yuu, it wasn’t anything special, but he decided not to ruin his fun. After all, Grim was over the moon to hear that a party was being held for him. (He casually ignored that it was for Yuu as well.)

“You look like a cute plushy doll that any girl would love to hug and squeeze.” He forced his lips to stretch into a grin. “Happy?” Evidently not.

“What?! No! You’re supposed to say I’m cool!” The cat complained, fuming so hard Yuu could see puffs of steam come off him.

“Sorry, but if you want to be cool, you can’t dress up like a doll.” To be fair, he looked better than Yuu, whose suit looked like it had been dropped in a blender.

“I’m not a doll! I’m cool like a spy!” The argument would have continued, but then there was a knock, knock at the door.

“You two ready?” Deuce asked, peeking in before entering with Ace.

“Hey, Yuu! Looking sharp!” Ace teased, winking for effect. Yuu smirked back.

“Thanks. Why does my suit have holes in it?” He poked a finger through one of the tears. Ace grimaced.

“Why don’t you ask Brutus?” he said with a huff.

“Oh, were you two playing again?” Yuu said too casually. Grim snickered.

“Ha! You pulled the wrong lever again, didn’t ya?” he taunted.  Ace puffed up like an angry chick.

“No, I did not! It was Deuce!” he accused.

“It’s—it’s not my fault! They both look the same, and mechanisms always switch,” Deuce said in his defense. Ace decided that it wasn’t worth the argument at the moment.

“Whatever!” he grumbled, digging in his packet. “You two ready for your interview?” Ace asked, pulling out a notepad.

Yuu frowned slightly as he asked, “Huh? You’re doing that too?” Yuu had done birthday interviews in the past under Crowley’s orders but wasn’t expecting to ever have the roles switched.

“Sure! We want you to have the full UBD experience!” Deuce said with a smile. Yuu sighed, giving in. They were doing this for him after all, and he trusted them not to write anything too personal. (Besides, he ran the school paper. He could edit out anything he desired.)

“You sure you want us to do this today, Ace?” he asked the scarlet-eyed boy. “I mean, your birthday was just yesterday. You sure it’s okay to just drop the attention on us now?” Ace smirked.

“Yeah, it’s fine!” he said. “Not only do I get more treats, but I get to repay you for yesterday.

“What, you didn’t care for the oysters?” Yuu teased as he flopped into a bright yellow chair. Grim floated to the arm where he rested.

“They got up and stole the main course!” Ace exclaimed, a vein twitching. “We had to spend all afternoon looking for them!”

“Think of it as a surprise birthday game.”

“Oh, I’ve got a birthday game for you later,” Ace grumbled. “Anyway, on to the interview!” He flipped open the pad. Deuce followed suit, looking determined to do this properly.

“Yuu R. Hoo…” After he scribbled the name down and said it aloud, he grimaced. “Is that really your name?”

Yuu shook his head as he replied, “Odd first question, but no. I just didn’t trust Crowley enough to give him my real name.” The reactions varied.

“Seriously?” Ace’s was flat but not surprised.

“Huh? Really?!” Deuce was surprised, and his eyes grew a little.

The one who was the loudest was Grim, who cried. “Eh?! You mean you’ve been using a fake name all this time?!”

“Yeah,” Yuu said, answering them all at once. His expression had a statement of, “Wasn’t it obvious?” Deuce tilted his head with a slight frown.

“Why would you use a fake name?” A number of reasons came up in his head.

Yuu—or Not-Yuu was a good friend, and he often helped Deuce and Ace when they needed it; however, some of his actives were—well, let’s just say Deuce omitted some stuff from the letters he sent his mother.

Yuu raised a thick eye brow over a black eye.

“Dude. His name is Dire Crowley. Why would I trust him?” he asked. “Plus, he wore a bird mask with glowing eyes and walked around with a cane that twirled around around like a baton. That is the surest sign of an untrustworthy person!” Deuce pondered this, as did Ace, as they both recalled Azul and Fellow Honest. Not-Yuu had a point.

Grim looked at the corpse pale boy in confusion.

“Then what is your real name?” The boy blinked, tilted his back, and hummed in thought.

“Name… What’s my name, what’s my name? What….”

Ḩ̸̥͔̯͚̝̝̈́̈́͘̚͜o̴̢̱̗̺̗̻̗͒̑̒͐̒̽̌̓̊̑͋w̵͙̘̙͕͙̯̻͒͛̇̿ͅ ̵̡̹͎̫̥̱͚͔̥͔͈̍ḑ̶̰̥̰̮͙̰̟͔͑́̃̅̀̃̃̂̕͜͠ͅͅḭ̸͉̱̣̝̝̖̰͍̯̣̯̗͖̋̔͘͝͝ͅd̵̪͛̇̀̄̃̽͂̍͘ͅ ̷̛̲̝̖͓̘̮̯̺̞̘̹̗̿̂̈́̅͆́̕͠͠ͅy̸͈͖͑͂̆̍͆̊͂͝ơ̸̩͓̥͈̭͒̒͋̅̈́̓̓͐͛̄͗̍͘͜͠u̷̧̪̦̜͕͙͌̄̔̍̇̄͠ ̴̥̞̮̫̣͉͔̩̰͚̝̗̯̈̇͑͆̒̈́̀͒̏͝ͅg̷̛̭͔͈̤͕̳̞͖͖̠̲̒̈̐̉̾̔͘͜e̷̹̞̲̤͔̺̰̤̐͛͂̏͗͆̔͆̓́̏͜t̴̨̛̛̖̜̳͚̘͙̲̥͖̻͉̮͇͐̍͛̊̅͋ͅ ̵̛̬̤̱̀̀̏̀́̎͛̑̊̽͘h̷̡͍̥̲͔͙̩̝̙̖͈͈̿͛͂͜ę̵̢̘͍͉͇̞̦̼́͋͌͑̒͑͘r̵̜̭͉͙̜͔̋͋̂̊̂̈́̿̅̐̄̊̈̓̚͠ȩ̵̧̰̯͚̺̪̠̹̱͙̟̒̅͌̚͜?̵̢̨͔̗̥̝̗̩̬͓́̋̿̄̓̍͘ ̸̢̠̥̣̠̭̮̠͎͎̖̟͗̐̉ͅW̴̢̯̤̣͍̬̥͉̫͔͍͕̑̐͑͐̈̑́ḩ̶̧̡͕̥̘̭͕͉̜̮̾̃̈͘͜͝ạ̷̰̦̺̦̣̺̾͌̒̅̌̅̓̔͑͆́̔̋̚͝ţ̸̛̥̲̯̰̤̺͚͙̣͚̖͚̹̾́̋̑̽͗̈́̈́͂͂͜͠'̸̛̪͎̯̬̻̫̮̼͍̮͖͑̓̏͑͗̓̄͋̌̒͊̓͂̚ͅs̸̛̼̲̞̗̑͐͛̔͆͆͐͋͝ͅ ̸̩̙̝̠̲̭͇͔̍ỳ̵̜͚̗̪̜̩͔͇̂̋̎͋̋ͅo̷̟̳̝̹̮͇̎ų̴̬̯̖̯̹͍͛̏̀̓͊̌͝r̷̨̛̦̜͓̯̲͈̪̓̓̀͂̒́́͆̌͊̌̑̀͝ ̸̧̧͉̲̳͎͍̦̠̠̦̣̱̺̍̎̇́̃̋̉̈̀͋̍̇͘͜ņ̵̛̛͚̲̙̜͒̈́̈́̾̎̏̓̈́͝a̵̡̝̭̬̎̉͜͝m̷̨̢̡̗̝̟̹͇͉͈̝͇̾́̄̅́̾͛̏̒̀̆̎͘ͅȅ̸̛̬̙͗̌͆̚͝?̷̢̡̙͖̘̜̓��̊̋͑͐̉̓̽̕ͅ

X̷̡̨͚̝̩̙̫̺̭̪̺̤̗̹̗̎ą̴̪̾̀̿ͅv̶̼̥͕̍͊̔̆i̴̠̮̖̗̦̙̖̰͑̍̄͊͊̓e̷̙̎̀̆̀͘͝r̴̢̢̛͈͕̹͇̒͂̓̽͂̉?̷̨̞̪͇̞̫̃̚͝ ̵̩̙͓̳̗̬̥̗̥̰̳͈̪̣̖̋̀̿̾͆X̸͖̥̐̌̄̇̿̎̑͆̔͆͐͌̎̀ͅą̸̢͎̮̪̠̤̘͎̤̙̰͚͔̒͌̓̉͒̆̄̕n̴̨̝̥̠̯͔͂̈́́ͅd̶͔̳͓͌r̷̡͉͚̜͉̣̭̙͈̲͇̯͉͉͎̐̄̉̍i̶̡̯͎͉͙̦̓̓̈́̏͊̌̓̀͗͋̀a̵͙̞̝͍̝͊̆͋̎̐͝͝n̶̡̡̻̞̪̞̲͙̏̒?̵̧̤̦̟̦̫̜̯̋̉̍͊̃̎͒͊̚͘͜ͅ ̵̟̎͌̉̀̂̄̍̐̔̊̈͗̂̚͘Ẍ̴̻̺͈̙̳̬̲͓̝̲̳̭́̈́͜͜à̶̡̢̡͉͇͎͔̭̫̜̗̹̯͂̇́̿̇̌̾̒̕̕͜͝ͅn̷̗̠̣̩̜̰̽̌̓́ḏ̷̻̣̗̪̻̩͖͓̩͇͍̯̬̄̔͋͗́̎͐̏̈́̐͋͘̕͝ę̷̨̫̻̟͈̝̣̳͓͓͈̲̰̏r̵̡̨̛͕̣̼̂́͐͐͒͒̓̽͝ͅ?̸̛̜̓̐̇̆͒̽͒͒̾

X...X...X…

“Uh...censored?” The others were even more confused than before.

“Your name is Censored?” Deuce repeated as Grim meowed, “Censored? Really?” It took a moment before Ace put two and two together.

“By ‘censored,’ do you mean you can’t remember it?” he asked with a frown. Yuu confirmed this with a short, “Bingo!” The three annoyed and confused before Deuce remembered something.

“Ah, that’s right—you've mentioned that you have trouble remembering stuff, right?” he said, touching his chin in thought. Yuu nodded.

“Mm-hm. Yeah, my mind’s fucked,” he said, exhaling an annoyed sigh, his face twisted in a scowl. “But you know, at least I have an excuse: I had my brain trampled when I first came here, and before that there were side effects from my dimension travels. I think?” He attempted really hard to recall, but—nope, just static.

All the others jumped when they heard this, eyes growing twice their size.

“Hold up, go back; you were run over?!”

“Wait. Do you mean literally or figuratively?!”

“Literally. As in, my brain was stomped to mush. Someone came around the mountain with her six white—er, four black—horses and ran me down. No idea if she was wearing red pajamas or not.” Yuu closed his eyes, attempting to pull up the memory he needed before elucidating.

“Well—that’s what the school doctor and the doctor they brought over from Queendom or whatever said.

“After the magic mirror revealed I’m from out of this world, Crowley noticed I was—out of it? So, he took me to the nurse.

“I was too out of it to recall details, but they figured out that not only was I from another world, but my body was trampled.” Grim’s fur stood on the edge.

“What?! You mean you died?!” he meowed. “Wait! Does that mean you’re a zombie?!” He added, about to cry. Yuu opened his eyes and glared.

“No! You saw me try to make a zombie, remember?” The boys were so shocked by the previous revelation that they didn’t react to that statement. “I’m nothing like that! All my organs work. I’m more like Frankenstein. Technically? I think? I mean, I’m not dead now, and I was only dying before... I mean, I think?” Yuu’s brow furrowed as he tried to mentally squint at the mental picture. Even he had trouble understanding what happened, so it was even harder to explain.

“From what I gathered, I was in the limbo stage when I somehow ended up in the coffin—or gates, whatever. I think they think somehow the magic healed me and brought me back from the brink of death. I think?” To be honest, this was a touchy subject for him.

Yuu prided himself on being able to properly repair himself when needed. However, his mind was one of the few things he couldn’t fix. After all, how do you fix your brain without your brain? It was very annoying.

Ace was both amazed and horrified.

“Wow...the gates can do that?” he asked. Yuu thought about this.

“I guess? Haven’t thought to study them till now, to be honest,” he told them. Then he shrugged it off, deciding to think about it later. “Anyway, I was told that they have some sort of rejuvenation magic to make the student look their best when they arrive. That magic mended my bones and reshaped everything else. So, here I am. Reformed from broken parts.” Aduce looked ill, their skin pale with slight horror.

“Shit, that explains a lot... Are there any side effects?” Stupid question, as the “side effects” were sitting in the chair looking at them with the eyes of a dead fish.

Yuu pondered this before responding.

“Hmm…. Well, physically, my bones make more noises when I move, and I’m double-jointed everywhere.” He demonstrated by waving his wrist around and swinging his hand as if it were rubber. Each movement made a disturbing ‘krrk, krkk!’ sound. “Brain-wise? Memory’s a bit cracked. I mean, I remember stuff, but it’s like looking through a cracked window with static on the other side. And even then, stuff is out of context, and I’ve realized that I’ll occasionally mix things up from TV shows I saw and my own life.”

“So, even if you do remember stuff, it’s not always accurate?” Deuce asked. After Yuu confirmed, Ace looked at him in pity.

“That’s...actually pretty sad.”. Yuu raised himself, as if taking the gaze as an insult.

“But temporary,” he stated firmly, looking each in the eye as if daring them to challenge him on this fact. “Once I get better at this potion thing, I’ll be able to fix myself up easily!” He calmed himself and sat back down, resting his head on his palm.

“Till then, a name is just an identifier, and ‘Yuu’ fills that function. So let’s just stick with that as a name.” Feeling the mood drop slightly, the others moved on to the questions.

“If you say so…”

~end~

A/N: This is a bit wordy. I’ll shorten the others, but I wanted to try to use this as an opportunity to share of lore about Yuu.

The glitchy text came from here, btw.

[weirdmageddon]

another rant about fanfic/fancontent and characterization

ive been on FIRE with hot takes the past week it just all started bubbling to the surface i guess. people are gonna hate me for this one but i have to address the elephant in the room

i think a lot of ppl need to read this quote. this is….exactly fucking it. what ive been trying to articulate this whole time. this is why so much fanfic pisses me off and drives me away. they explained the phenomenon PERFECTLY

Decades ago, Devra Langsam (coeditor and publisher of SPOCKANALIA, the first Star Trek fanzine, beginning in 1967) codified this in what came to be known as "Langsam's Law." In an essay published in WARPED SPACE 50 (1984, T'Kuhtian Press), Paula Smith described it thusly: “In writing media-based fiction there is a special caveat: Langsam's Law, or, ‘Don't Make Him Say That.’ Don't make an established character do or say something out of line with his established character, or if you must, give good, solid reasons why. If you must write a Darth-Vader-is-really-a-pussycat story, explain in the story why he also strangles crewmen when irked.” And the debate has raged ever since. For my own part, I initially was somewhat startled to realize, upon reading my first fanzine those many decades ago, that other people could and did interpret these characters somewhat differently than I did. After a while I concluded that there was a continuum of logical characterization—always demonstrably rooted in canon—along with the who-the-fuck-are-these-people "interpretations." As far as I can tell, these are based on projection, wish fulfillment, and/or what I call "spackletext" (as opposed to genuine subtext) from writers (well, story posters, at least) who want the characters to meet their specific desires in emotional/physical/therapeutic gratification and are completely oblivious or simply uncaring as to how that is achieved.”

seriously. the way so many people treat characters as like empty-calorie junk food instead of getting genuine gratification from properly understanding them in canon, without selfishly appropriating them, as if they were real people with depth makes me sick. how do you consume content in that way?? and moreover, why do so many other people enjoy it????

this is what i've been thinking for years but i didnt know how to say it without people flipping out on me. like it's ALWAYS empty wish fulfillment it makes me wanna EXPLODE. that's why those boring nonsensical ships always exist in every fandom: it's for projection. so they’re as easily gratifying to their desires as possible. it sucks so much because like. i can't imagine what kind of catharsis they expect to achieve from something like this????? it's not even using these characters therapeutically as much as it is just using them as comfort junk food

i made a domino’s vs new york slice analogy to a friend the other day: “it’s enlightening to me that people don’t think about him this way. like what do you mean “wow”. you have all been fed garbage characterization. that’s like people who all they know is domino’s and think they know what real pizza is and have never had a new york slice”. so imagine if new york pizza wasnt bound to the new york area and you could get new york style pizza anywhere in the world, it just takes longer to prepare. it’s like these people are consistently choosing domino’s because they want it now and fast without regard for method or depth of care put into the art of pizzamaking itself because their bar for quality food is at the ocean floor. its like fast food to them they just want instant self gratification no matter how shitty the texture and taste are

why you people enjoy consuming empty fucking calories i will never understand to save my life. i WANT to understand but nobody, NOBODY can give me a well-reasoned answer. the only one that answers this is the one in the above quote, that that too many people are afraid to admit: “it’s based on projection, wish fulfillment, and/or what I call "spackletext" (as opposed to genuine subtext) from writers who want the characters to meet their specific desires in emotional/physical/therapeutic gratification and are completely oblivious or simply uncaring as to how that is achieved.”

see that’s like fucking sacrilege to the character, original work, AND audience to me. how would the canon character feel about this. if you hate the original canon so much that you turn it in its head why are you writing about it in the first place??? what the hell is even redeeming about the media in general to you?? if you do that, i’m not emotionally attached to anything in the story anymore, you have to resell it to me. but even then i’m not here for whatever weird ungrounded from canon au youre trying to write i’m here to see a deeper exploration of the same ideas presented in a given piece of media. that’s why i’m reading. fanfic. and not. an original story

i just think that not only is proper characterization an artful discipline that shows you can step out of your own impulsive wants, but proper characterization also displays an author’s genuine love and devotion for a series or a character. it shows you how much someone cares about this thing, you know they put their heart and soul into caring to get it right. it’s made with real love, time, devotion, like a samurai mastering his blade. going into understanding their inner workings and spending so much time to properly understand it because they care about it so much. and it’s very obvious when you see it. accordingly, the opposite is true—sloppy characterizations made out of wishful thinking and self-gratification without bothering to understand the character, feels… well, rather cheap. like fast food. you don’t get the same strong sense of devotion to deeply understanding that thing. so the question bears repeating: why do people want this empty-calorie fast food? in fics with proper characterizations, the people in the comments act as if they saw heaven and praise the author. they way they comment suggests it’s such a rare occurence. but why. why is it a fucking rare occurrence. shouldn’t this be the norm? is it really that rare for people to be devoted to properly understanding the depths of a media and its characters? am i the fucking weird one here for having this kind of discipline and getting deep satisfaction from the art of understanding characters????? do other people find it too hard and i’m confused because i expect it to be as easy to see as i do? or do they just simply not give a shit about the principle?

when people turn canon on its head, it makes me wonder: how much do people actually like the media they consume? do they like the actual characters themselves? or do they merely like the idea of these characters and ignore what is manifest about them for their own ideal interpretations that serve their own desires?

on one hand i'm like “it's not hurting anyone, the world already has enough pain in it, you can't judge people for wanting to escape it for a bit”. cause like, if it makes them happy then i shouldn't be upset about that. i'm glad people are able to find joy in these things that i can't, and i don't want to spoil something that causes genuine happiness for these people. then on the other hand i'm like “okay but all those empty calories can't possibly be good for you. you can consume media in much richer and satisfying ways”

[p---ink]

“What’s Gotten Into You?”

Author’s Note: Hi :) It’s been a while. I feel like I say that in every author’s note. Work has been draining, yada yada yada, writer’s block, blahj blahj blahj, please. You guys know the routine. Now this request is long over due. @blowmymbackout requested it ageeesss ago. I’m just happy to find inspiration just before her birthday. Anyway, happy birthday love! I really hope you enjoy this one.

Summary: Bruce is pleasantly surprised when he finds out you’ve taken a sexual enhancement.

Warning: Smut, language, you know the deal. Minors DNI (do not interact)

Word Count: 3.5k

Song: Lights On by Fka Twigs. There’s no specific reason I chose this song, other than I thought the lyrics could be in Bruce’s perspective if you squint hard enough. It’s just a bop in my opinion, don’t think too much about it lol

Disclaimer: Pictures and dividers are not mine. Nor is the gif.

Dr. Hubby: You know I don’t enjoy surprises. They stress me out.

You: Well you’ll enjoy this one, if you know what I mean ;)

Dr. Hubby: Just tell me what it is.

You: Just be here at 8 Bruce 😒

Maybe telling him you had a surprise wasn’t the best idea. You knew he’d be anxious about the thing all day. But all was well, because you didn’t plan on telling him what it was now.

Speaking of what it was, you rustled through the plastic bag that clung loosely around your wrist. It was solid black for what you imagined was for discretion since the contents weren’t so innocent.

The little pink box you pulled out was decorated with a fancy purple font and a tiny white cat, whose eyes were electric. Menacing the thing was, but the pink pussycat guaranteed pleasure.

“Take one hour before intercourse. Drink at least 16 ounces of water…” You mumbled, as you read the instructions aloud.

Not that you two needed the aid of the supplement, but after the promising reviews and not to mention your best friend swearing by it, you wanted to give it a try.

After all why wouldn’t you, after this comment you saw on their instagram page,

Littytitty420 commented My pussy had its own heartbeat shortly after I took this pill. My sheets were drenched, and I drained my partner of every bit of energy they could offer. The only bad thing I have to say is that it is crucial to drink plenty of water. Ignore that 16 ounces shit, you’ll need to hydrate consistently throughout the day. Trust me: it will save you the trouble of water breaks between your fuck sessions. So start chugging now, sis. Also WARNING: DO NOT take this pill if you are not prepared to fuck for your life. IT LASTED 68 HOURS FOR ME, and my partner was spent after two! So be warned, that bullet will not satisfy you, you’ll need a human sized bag of meat!

“I’m sold.” Was what you said, shortly before deciding to make the trip to your local adult toy shop.

If I were to ask you to describe your sex life with Dr. Banner in one word, you would say “relaxed” in a heartbeat.

Banner took his time with you. And for good reason too. It took a lot of convincing on your part, for him to even consider the act of sex. But with a lot of time, patience, communication and trust, you two eventually made love. A lot.

With perfection comes practice, you always said. Suffice to say, you two practiced a lot. Every time you “practiced” you took it a step further than the last. And now, you were convinced that tonight was the one that you had spent all this time practicing for.

You had a detailed agenda for the evening:

7:25 Take Pill

7:30 Prepare Dinner

8:00 Eat Dinner

8:25 Have Bruce eat me.

Dinner, quality time, and mind-blowing sex: that’s the plan, you thought to yourself.

But sometimes things don’t always go according to plan. For instance, Bruce arriving two hours ahead of schedule, was not a part of the plan.

“Damn it B! I told you eight o’clock!” You complained after he hurried inside of your door, placing hasty kisses on each of your cheeks, and one on your lips.

“What?” He whined, sporting that puppy dog look you always loved. “I was too excited to wait that long.”

How could you stay irritated at that? Still you whined back, “I haven’t even made dinner yet. I was gonna give you your surprise after that.”

“Aww muffin, let’s just make it together. You know I like helping you do that.” He replied, turning his back to you and fumbling with his phone as he paired his bluetooth to your speaker. Before long the familiar sound of his favorite Bossa nova playlist flooded your ears.

“No you like eating the ingredients, then complaining later because we never have enough sausage.” You say over the soft jazz.

“I can’t help that you never prepare enough! You have to take into account that your boyfriend is a very hungry man!” He expressed passionately.  You chuckled at how sincere he sounded. “I’m constantly eating for two, and I always tell you this. ‘I need more meat Y/N. Prepare six servings instead of’ two—”

He interrupted himself when you shot him a disapproving, but playful, glare.

“—Joking. Joking.” He finished, throwing up his hands in a defensive manner. Then he quickly added,  “Where do you want me Captain?” scurrying to the sink to wash his hands.

“Peel the damn potatoes Banner.”

“Anything you say, boss.” You heard him say, as you tucked the pink pussycat into your apron pocket, before slipping away to your bedroom.

Another thing that was not a part of the plan, was the pill taking effect a full 30 minutes earlier than you thought it would.

You grossly underestimated the effects.

It didn’t help that you had engulfed a glassful of wine. Alcohol and a sexual enhancement was not a good mix.

What also didn’t help , was Banner taking it upon himself to give you a very intimate lesson in chopping veggies.

You felt his presence envelope yours. An earthy aroma mixed with lemon and ginger overwhelmed your senses as he pressed his front against your back. Placing his hand over yours and the knife, he guided your movements slowly.

“I read in an article once, that the way you cut an onion can impact the taste.” He told you, his whole body softly reverberating through yours and raising the hairs on your neck. “There’s an enzymatic reaction in them that produces the flavor. And the finer the slice, the more enhanced the taste. ”

Your reply to that was, “Fuck baby, I love it when you talk nerdy to me.”

Your breathy moan caused him to abruptly halt his actions, cough and stumble backwards. “I’m sorry what?” He asked you, eyeing you incredulously, an amused glimmer shining through his eyes. Had he heard you right?

You cleared your throat, trying to recompose yourself before you say, “It was just a joke. Haha. I’m so funny!” You awkwardly squawked, hoping you didn’t scare him too bad with your forthrightness

“Right.” He agreed, skeptical mug still painting his features. You didn’t joke like that. But he decided to let it go. You were so embarrassed that you tried to as well.

Good thing your embarrassment didn’t last long. Over the course of the meal, shamelessness took its place.

It was the little things. The everyday things that were innocent on any other occasion.

The way his teeth lightly grazed the prongs of his fork, made you jealous of the silverware. How you wanted him to tease your nipples the same way.

The jet black and gray fluffy strands of hair that shook when he spoke, would feel heavenly right about now if  they were tickling at your thighs.

It was sinful the way his long fingers encased the small utensils. You could just imagine them tangled in your hair or pulling at your hips as he pounded into you mercilessly.

His lips wrapping around his wine glass, had you whining in more ways than one. It was hard work trapping those whimpers in your throat. Hard work taming your ass from bucking forward in your seat.

“Mmm” Banner groaned (a little too erotically in your opinion), “Fantastic job as always! Dinner was delicious.” His compliment went ignored, as your focus was zeroed in on his chin.

He noticed of course and asked, “Is there something on my face?” Immediately letting his hand hover over the area.

“Yeah there’s a bit of sauce on your chin.” You softly answered.

“That’s embarrassing. I’m such a messy eater sometimes.” He shared. You could practically hear the drip from your panties that spilled onto the mahogany dining stool. It was caused by the innocent innuendo. But what was worse was his next action. He let his finger collect the substance, then his tongue darted out to clean the thick creamy mess. “Every drop counts right?”

“Do you have room for dessert?” You chimed. He had barely finished his sentence, but his ears perked up at the offer.

“Depends on what you have in mind?” Was what he replied.

“Me.”

Tongue now in cheek, impish grin and cloudy eyes overtaking his features, he leaned back in his chair and asked “Is that right?

“That’s right.”

“Why don’t you come a little closer then?”

And you didn’t need to be asked twice. Before you knew it, you had leapt out of your chair and  straddled yourself over his waist. The action almost tipped you both over,  but before he could say another word, your lips were over his.

You couldn’t decide if you wanted your hands in his hair or on his neck, but the decision to plant one on each came quickly.

And then you kind of ungracefully invaded his mouth with your tongue. “Mm. Slower baby.” Bruce pleaded between kisses.

“Sorry” You mumbled into his lips. Rocking your hips and lightly digging your nails into the sides of his neck, you went slower but as a consequence your actions became a bit more rough.

He pulled back a little before commenting, “That’s a little rough, angel.” when you bit his bottom lip a little too harshly. This time you didn’t reply, and instead decided to capture his neck between your teeth. Sucking and bruising the skin harshly, you pulled back to completely ruin one of his favorite shirts.

When you ripped it open, the clatter of little plastic buttons connecting with the floor rang through his ears, while going unnoticed by yours.

“Geez Y/N!” He all but hissed. “What’s gotten into you tonight?”

“I can tell you what I’d like to get into me. I can even tell you how to make it happen. You can start by taking those pants off.”

He had never seen you act like that before. To say it turned him on would be an understatement. He was no longer in control of his actions from this point forward.

He stood so quickly you felt dizzy, as he placed you on the edge of the table. He reconnected with your lips and firmly squeezed your breasts through your shirt. His kiss turned rougher. His touch was firmer, and he even let his thumbs scan your chest as they more than lightly grazed your cloth-covered nipples.

And though Bruce was now on board with your eagerness, he still couldn’t quite match your enthusiasm. You threaded your fingers through the bottom patch of hair on his neck, and let his happy trail guide your other hand to the button of his jeans.

Bruce mirrored your action, letting his hand slip under your dress, then panties at the same time that you released him from his jeans.

You swallowed his groans as your wrist repeated its slow up and down motion on his shaft. He swallowed yours as his fingers massaged your swollen clit.

“How are you already so wet?” He groaned to no avail, because you were too busy fucking yourself on his fingers to answer any question he could think of.

Seeing you so vulnerable yet so shameless as you took your own pleasure, sent welcome shudders down his spine. The combination of you undulating your hips up and down to meet his fingers, whilst you massaged his dick had him slightly leaking onto your hand.

Not yet, he thought. He still had to taste you. Still have to feel you around me, before I cum.

Keeping one hand connected to your heat, Bruce gently pushed you back, so your body could lie flat on the surface of the table. Then he hiked your dress around your stomach, removed your panties, and took a seat. He needed to: he made up his mind that he wanted to be here for a while.  Then he pulled your body closer to the edge, wrapped your thighs around his neck and buried his face into your sex.

He relished the burn he felt in his scalp as you pulled and tugged at his hair. Took delight at the lack of breath from your thighs closing in on him. Felt proud of the deafening wails you let out as you vibrated against his face.

Stiffening and relaxing his tongue in a repetitive cycle, was how he had you convulsing around the muscle. His fingers were both delicate and determined, as they moved in and out of your weeping hole.

Don’t get me wrong, Bruce never had trouble in the orgasm delivery division, but never had he experienced such an intense display of pleasure. I mean you were shaking long after you had cum. Not that he was complaining. He was curious, but uncomplaining.

“Ready for more?” He asked after a second (and I mean a second) of letting you calm down.

“Yes, please.” You relayed, but he had already begun the process of lifting your legs. With one ankle hooked over his shoulder, and the other dangling behind his waist, Bruce was able to sink deep into you; a sigh of pleasure escaping you both, as your body welcomed him with its warm hug.

“Fuck, baby” He groaned after one excruciatingly slow thrust. “What did you do?” But he didn’t really need to know the answer now. Not as if you were in the right mind to give it to him anyway. Not as if he was in the right mind to comprehend it. He was too busy focusing on the soft jilt of your tits as his sharp thrusts sent your body up and down the table. Too busy focused on the impossibly wet, impossibly warm feel of you. Entirely too busy concentrating on  the sound of your moans mixed with the lewd sticky wetness that rang through his ears when he slowly inserted himself in and out of you.

One, two, no three strokes later, and your hot juices are already washing over him. Your tight pussy already growing tighter. “Shit!” he all but yells, when he too almost cums right then and there.

Pulling out completely he wasted no time in helping you to your feet. “Bedroom now. And this,” his gruff voice spoke lowly, in reference to your scantily clad dress, “this better be off when I get there.”

Your wobbly legs almost gave way when he released you. It was part due to your recent activities, and part due to the tone of his voice. Mostly due to the look in his eyes that you had never seen until now.

Still you did as he said, rushing, ungracefully might I add, to your bedroom.

You pulled your dress over your head, followed with your bra, and you had it mostly off by the time you felt his presence at your bedroom’s entrance.

“So this is what I can give my blame to.” You turned to see what he was going on about, when you saw him holding the same little pink package you held not an hour earlier.

He was silent as he read the carton. Silently brooding.  “Bruce—”

“Hands and knees, Y/N. And don’t make me repeat it.”

Is he upset? You thought, but still you climbed onto the bed. Much too turned on to worry. What have you gotten yourself into?

You heard the whipping of his shirt as he pulled it off, followed by the rustling of his pants as they too fell to the floor. Then you felt the bed depress as he climbed on behind you.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” He asked. He lined himself up at your entrance, and gripped your hips as he awaited your answer.

He never said the word fuck when he referred to sex with you. Partly because he never fucked you. Nevertheless you softly answered, “Hard.” To which he replied,

“Tap out if you need me to stop.”

“I won’t want you to.”

“I sure hope not.”

And then the only coherent word you could form after, is the strangled yes that escaped your throat just after he rammed his dick into you.

It’s hard to keep your balance with the way he’s abusing your cunt. Your nails are clenching at the sheets, in a similar fashion to the way Bruce’s nails are digging into your skin. The sting it produces would be painful on any other day, but now it only riled you up. Suffice to say your pain and pleasure receptors were blurred and royally fucked up right now.

You began whimpering his name, and throwing your hand back in what he thought was to lessen the impact of his blows.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” He grunted, staggering in his pace but snaking an arm around to roughly massage your chest.

“No, fuck me harder!” You screamed, the words leaving your mouth quicker than you can think about the consequences.

And though his voice (now much, much deeper than normal) warned, “You’re playing with fire, Y/N.” He gave you what you asked for.

Quicker sharper thrusts in and out of you made your arms collapse beneath you, as Banner set a brutal pace. And the new angle created by your arched back allowed him to sink deeper, and deeper into you.

“This feels so fucking good!” You cried into the sheets. And before long, you felt that familiar coil in the pit of your stomach threaten to snap as pleasure washed over you. “Don’t stop, baby!”

And he didn’t. No he didn’t even let up. Didn’t even falter, when your whines turned into screams. It was the same blend of merciless yet accurate strokes, even when your pussy began contracting around him again.

No, the milky glaze you left around his dick allowed him to slip in and out of you even quicker.

And though your body was sore and spent, it was far from satisfied. You moaned, and cried his name, lazily  trying (and failing) to push yourself back onto him to meet his hips with yours. But you stopped when you caught a glimpse of his hand as it fell beside yours.

His normally olive-toned fingers slowly began turning a shade of green. But before you could tap out, his pace staggered as he spilled his cum into you, letting out an almost animalistic groan.

He bought his hand back to your waist, and glued his hips to yours, forcing all of his cum into you. He slowly rocked his hips into you as waves of pleasure rippled off of him and into you, while he rode out his high, shamelessly moaning and whimpering just as you did earlier.

“Bruce?” you hesitantly called, “Baby you still with me?” but he didn’t answer. Instead after a few moments of hearing nothing but his steady breathing, you felt his lips on your spine, as he planted kisses down your back. His warm breath, and sweaty forehead lingered at the base, as he continued trying to catch his breath.

And though you were relieved, his lingering kisses on your spine had you wet all over again.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you were thinking?” He hissed through gritted teeth, as he laid down to get a better look at you. His eyes were hooded from exhaustion.

“About what?” You innocently asked, through a labored pant, a little too focused on other things to think about what he could mean.

“Geez, I don’t know. Maybe when you decided to take,—fuck,” He moaned out, before finishing his thought with, “a sexual enhancement.”

You smirked down at him, as you swayed your hips back and forth onto his dick. “You think it was a bad idea?”

“I didn’t say that” He retorted quickly, grabbing your hips to match your movements with his, as he rolled himself up into you. “I’m just saying…” He started slowly, a little too focused on other things to organize his thoughts, “Maybe you could give a guy a heads up next time.”

And as you took in his words, and took in him, you found yourself cumming again before you could ask, Where’s the fun in that?

Grinding down onto him slowly, you rode out your climax, with the aid of him fucking you threw it.  A sweaty, shaky mess you were, (your body not exactly equipped to lose so much water, on top of the strenuous activities) as you came undone on him, for what had to be the...well you don't know, you lost count.

Your body was hot to the touch and your throat was sore from all the moaning. So was your jaw, and even your mouth was dry from having it open for so long. Simply put, you were fucked out, and were finally ready to give it a rest.

As you laid down beside him, he draped his arm around your limp body, pulling you closer to him as he held you tight. The feeling of him was nice. His scent, much like it was earlier, was intoxicating. And he was warm and soft. The heat of his body just about coaxed you to sleep. But,

“Oh no, angel. We’re not doing this again.” He protested, when he felt your lips on his skin.

And then you chuckled when you recalled, “That’s what you said last time” before dragging your body on top of his.

A:N// Hi babes, tell me what you guys think :)

[libertybri]

Can I request a Benny x f!Six oneshot? Basically, the route where Six screws Benny, doesn't kill him, and he gets captured by the Legion and they tell Six to kill him. Six is like "Fine, but we do this my way", meaning taking Benny near Good Springs, shooting him twice in the head with Maria (his gun) and burying him in a shallow grave just like Benny was going to do to them. Two of the Legion go with Six, but instead of killing Benny even though he's made his peace with it, Six uses the two shots on the soldiers and frees Benny. Six grabs him by the collar and growls "You owe me a date".

+

mini title: “IOU”

pairing; Benny x female!Courier

warnings: Benny speaks

word count; 641

tldr; Courier pretends to shoot Benny after sleeping with him when he gets abducted by Caesar, but shoots legionnaire guards instead, sparing him because he owes her a date

Where he sat now, kneeling in the shallow grave that formerly belonged to the courier, he knew his luck had officially ran out. She stands above him with Maria aimed at his head and a grimace on her face. He hurt her more than once, but walking out on her after their night together pained him equally. This fact was mentioned several times along their route to Goodsprings, but she pretended as if she didn’t hear him. The two legionaries made comments about how pathetic he sounded and laughed at his predicament.

Benny didn’t play her for a fool, so why she would ever want to join Caesar’s Legion was beyond his comprehension. From what he heard, the things they did to women were just foul; Aside from that, he’s never even heard of a woman being of a solider-status in their league. Perhaps she was playing them just to get her petty revenge on him. Caesar may as well have put a big red bow on Benny’s head and gave him to her with a leash, because he was just their pawn in an alliance. She accepted on her terms of course, that’s what he found that he liked most about her.

“Baby, we can talk about this. What I did to you was just foul—“

“The time for talking is over, Benny. I think you know how the rest of this goes.” She cut him off sharply. As she clicks the safety off, the corners of her lips rise into a wicked grin.

He closes his eyes, beginning to accept his fate. Before he knows it the gun fires two quick shots. Benny releases a jagged breath when he finally realizes that he is, in fact, still breathing after all. His eyes slowly open to face the crazed courier, gun raised slightly above her shoulder as it was still smoking from the quick fired rounds. Finally his sight trails to the two bodies behind her, the skirted men now laid dead in the graveyard, as oblivious to her true actions as Benny himself.

“Baby, w- what was that?” His eyes go wide with realization.

She pockets the gun and steps towards him, leaning down and taking a firm grip of his collar. “You think I’m letting you off the hook that easily? You still owe me a date, mister.” He would be a downright liar to say he wasn’t just melting at her sultry tone and being handled in such a way.

“You are one wild pussycat, I’ll tell ya that much, babydoll.” He hums out, milliseconds away from kissing her before she releases her vice grip on his collar and sends him falling back into the grave. “Hey, you can treat me rough all you want, kitten. I’m still the man that’s taking you out for dinner and a show tonight.”

“Dinner and a show? How do you suppose you’ll be doing that all tied up?” At her teasing words, he can’t help but to let out a chuckle and send her a pleading glance.

“I’ll beg if you want me to, baby. Don’t think I won’t.” He winks, “Besides, a man’s gotta look nice for his lady. I’ll take you back to mine and we can shower up, get you some real nice digs, baby. Red suits you, so long as it’s not theirs.”

“I just started a war in your name, so there’s no more fretting about that.” The courier sighs dramatically and hops into the grave, cutting Benny’s binds and helping him out.

“This is one we’ll win, with you at my side– er, uh, me at your side, baby. Whatever works. You know what’s good for Vegas, and I know what’s good for you.” Benny suavely moves an arm around her as the two trek back to New Vegas the long way around.

[yoursweetdenial]

The 4 Lords decided to pass the evening by playing "spin the bottle". Of course, Alcina couldn't leave you in the Castle Dimitrescu alone, so she brought you with her (her daughters were VERY busy with something in the basement if you know what I mean, ha ha).

Heisenberg, Moreau, and Donna Beneviento didn't know you, and they looked at you in surprise but didn't say anything. All evening, everyone was doing different tasks and having fun. But when it was your turn and the bottle pointed in your direction, you were visibly embarrassed. Your task was to kiss the most attractive person in the room. Heisenberg grinned at your embarrassment.

"Come on, pussycat, don't be so shy! We all know who you're going to kiss!" he looked at you defiantly, cocky as ever.

"Oh, well, of course, no one will remember about the existence of poor Salvatore," Moreau croaked sadly.

"Same thing, mate," Donna told him. "We are no match for the great heartbreaker and macho Heisenberg!" she added jokingly. "Hey, Alcina, what do you say?" Beneviento turned to the tall vampire.

Lady Dimitrescu had been suspiciously quiet all this time. Her face was expressionless. It's kind of amazing...

"Hey, Y/N, how long do I have to wait?" Heisenberg smiled impudently. "Come on, come to me!"

You rose abruptly from your seat. The man has already opened his arms to you. You walked slowly to the center of the room, closer to him, and... quickly sat down on Lady Dimitrescu's lap. Without hesitation, you pressed your lips to Alcina's, and she returned the kiss with all the passion, while her right arm confidently wrapped around your waist, as if to let everyone know who exactly you belong to.

"Wait, wait! What is this?!" Heisenberg yelled indignantly. "Alcina, I don't understand... What's that supposed to mean?!"

"What did you expect, honey?" you answered while a smug smile spread across Lady Dimitrescu's face.

Heisenberg was beside himself with indignation. Donna Beneviento exchanged a glance with Moreau and they began to smile.

"Babe, I think you're a little confused!" Heisenberg told you.

"Oh, not at all!" you smiled innocently.

"But WHY?" Heisenberg flatly refused to understand.

"Who should I kiss if not my beloved wife?" you asked reasonably. Then you glanced at Alcina and noticed how fondly and proudly she looked at you.

"Your who?" Heisenberg asked again.

"Your... WHAT??!!!"

[evita-shelby]

Searching for three words prompts i found this one: "She was mine."

It has all the potential to be a dark fic and I'm here for it. But I'd like a Eva-Luca-Aveline. An ot3 that ends bad somehow? Eva and Linnie tired of Luca's bullshit 👀🤭? I'm here for it.

Only if you want, of course!! No need to say it ❤️.

thanks @justrainandcoffee 🖤🖤🖤

because its set in the Hunger Games au, uts gonna be dark

Party for Three

cw: sex trafficking, abuse, age gaps(older man/younger woman, older woman/younger woman) drugging, manipulation and attempted murder

Aveline Young x Eva Smith

“She was mine; you know.” Luca looks at the Victor from 11 with desire as he holds court at some rich fuck's villa. “You never forget your first.”

Victors were invited, even the ones with owners like Eva. A weekend full of depravity where the only rule was not to get between Luca and the ones he owns.

Eva was spared the worst part of the horrors even if Luca loved showing off his toys. While he no longer needed drugs and booze to keep Eva complacent, the nightmares of what Everett and his people did to her were enough to make her thankful for the gangster’s existence.

And he also satisfies her, something incredibly rare in this shithole. So, her time is spent with Luca, who chooses what she wears, what she does and even who she talks to.

Like now that instead of dancing or talking to her fellow prisoners, she is on Luca’s lap with the gangster teasing her because he’s not above fucking her in public to show his dominance. He’s done it before, its why she only wears skirts and dresses, hell, its why they are only allowed to wear things that give their clients easy access to the parts they buy.

“She’s unclaimed, I saw the roster for tonight. Would you like me to claim her for you?” Eva played the compliant yet slightly jealous lover to perfection. The right touches, the right tone and Luca was putty in her hands.

“She’s a hard nut to crack, no one’s been able to claim her since I had her.” He smirks and loosens his hold on her knowing Aveline Young wouldn’t say no to her. “If you can make her come to me, pussycat, I’ll let you have her too.”

Luca knows she’s attracted to women, even if she hadn’t been before Eva had no real choice about it. Sometimes it was Cashmere, or another girl avoiding a worse client, and sometimes it was his Capitol born lovers.

Linnie liked her, liked her enough to fool around when she wasn’t working the night. While no rule existed to keep mentors and victors from fucking each other, Eva was off limits lest they want to push daisies.

Aveline had no such fears, and their game continued over the years.

So, taking advantage of that, the Victor from 10 plays up the act of seducing the older woman to give Luca a good show.

“I know you don’t do this sort of ‘work’ but just this once.” The younger woman whispers mere inches away from her secret lover’s lips. As far as everyone knows, Eva’s putting on one of her shows where she entices her partner and butters them up for Luca.

Eva’s a jealous woman, but she toes the line just like the rest do. Or so she's had them believe.

“Anything for our darling Luca.” Aveline says the right words and winks at Luca before kissing Eva on the dance floor.

The kiss while exaggerated for effect, was perhaps the most genuine form of affection she’s been given this weekend.

They make quite the pair, while Eva was not as tall as Linnie, they were both stunning women with a fire in their blood the Capitol couldn’t extinguish no matter what they tried. Hence why Luca was so enamored by them.

It’s not long until they are back in Luca’s suite desperate to get the night over with. While she’s come to physically enjoy being with him and the others, Eva will never feel anything but disgust for him.

But she gets to have Linnie, touch her and kiss her even if they have Luca between them. It would be fun either way, if Luca keeps his word then both victors can be together on their own.

They’ve barely gotten to the bed, removed the last of their clothes but not their jewelry ---for Luca had gifted it to them--- before Luca goes out like a light.

“What, do you think I’d let him touch me again?” the black woman reveals the empty pillbox in her ring with a chuckle. “The only one I want, is you.”

Eva feeling that sweet sweet freedom was within reach gets one of the pillows and places it over his head. She could do it, she knows the avoxes will cover for her and unlike last time she won’t have to lie and say it was because she was curious about erotic choking.

But Aveline stops her.

The older woman warns and makes her remove the pillow before he began to suffocate. “Your tongue is one of your best features, sweetheart, if you behave yourself we’ll have our own party here.”

Even with Luca dead to the world in the massive bed, it’s one of the best nights they’ve had.

[astrolaurical]

Hey

It's the same girl who asked about your opinion on my 10 year old cousin thinking Jungkook will marry her

I just wanted to ask

Is it normal that Every ARMY(some non-ARMYs too) around me thinks that someone from BTS gonna marry them? Or is it just people around me???

Everyone are delulu omg😭

I have too many stories about these girls

I (forcefully) checked what they were talking about and checked your Tumblr and I was so thankful someone was normal. I almost thought Everyone were like that

And Yes I told her to stay in School

I think everyone has a secret fantasy about marrying their favorite celebrity. That’s why celebrities and idols exist and why boy bands are so successful. I’m really showing my age but omg the frenzy in the 90s and early 2000s around NYSNC and The Backstreet Boys and Britney Spears?? Unparalleled. Then in the late 2000s we saw it again with Justin Bieber and One Direction. The Josie and Pussycats film (SLAY) makes fun of the entertainment industry the entire movie by even parodying boyband obsession, product placements, and the trend cycles. The movie went over so many peoples’ heads when it was released so it bombed at the box office but it’s a cult classic for a reason. Highly recommend to watch!!! Also aging myself again by admitting I had both the dvd AND soundtrack as kid bc the songs are bangers. Honestly the 90s-2000s in general just rocked. This is the only meme I have of the film but see the product placement and the mockery of boy bands? Genius.

The 1D documentary is a perfect example of the boy band frenzy that JATP film was mocking bc they even had a small scene where they had a neuroscientist or someone similar in that profession (I haven’t seen the movie in a few years so I’m not 100% sure but I was a hardcore 1d stan and have the dvd bc their live vocals honestly slap. Their concert cover of teenage dirtbag in the movie?? Still waiting for the actual recording bc chefs kiss). Anyway the neuroscientist was saying that corporations/ music companies have these formulas to create the perfect idol down to a t after studying the phenomenons of rabid Beatles and Elvis fans in the 50/60s. It has to do with the happiness chemicals in the brain. Combine those with good looks and music? You can’t help but fall in love. The entertainment industry then purposely directs their carefully molded artists to vulnerable audiences (preteens, teens, women) because they will buy more products. Casey Aonso (another fellow 1d stan wassup girl) YouTube video describes their XFactor era HILARIOUSLY. War flashbacks. The clips about HOW BAD each individual one direction members auditions were but you could see the $$$ in the judges eyes bc the boys were good looking and you could tel the judges were plotting how to sell the boys good looks. And they did.

And boy do we know that formula works. Hybe overprices bts products on Weverse shop and y’all eat it up and sell it out every time. $200 for a REPACKAGED cd. Weren’t they selling like a $1000 product recently? But even Jin had to be like “nah for my Astronaut comeback yall not gonna be selling hella expensive pajama pants like last time tho. We don’t price gouge in this house”. All hail jin.

I’ve talked a lot about parasocial relationships and media training, etc. While I think it’s fine to have a secret fantasy about marrying *insert celebrity crush name here*, I think it’s important to realize it’s a FANTASY. Fun to think about and daydream to, but NOT REALISTIC when trying to plan a future around or with. Go play the childhood game of MASH or make a SIMS family with Jungkook as your husband. That’s fine and normal. But don’t be going around telling people he’s your boyfriend. That’s delusion. I’ve included a perfect real life example of healthy young fangirling in the tags.

EDIT JUNE 11 2023:

I happened to come across this tik tok video yesterday that also explains delusion and obsession. I think it applies to “fangirling” especially well. TW for trauma.