#I obsess so much over tiny gestures and careful interactions that it's perfect for me

[hedonistbyheart]

I talked about Twofs with my friend who doesn’t like it recently and she had the most hilarious description of why it didn't work for her. She was like:

"Reading it is like if something really exciting was happening in front of you, that you desperately wanted to see, and then suddenly a little watchmaker and a pianist walked in front of you and sat down to have tea. You're trying to see what's happening behind them, but they won't budge and they're just having tea!"

Somehow that's very spot on, but as I explained to her, I really enjoy watching the watchmaker and his pianist have tea.

[wandering-travesty]

Call Me By Your Name

    You weren’t sleezy. That was just a word idiots used to try and pull you down to their level. Yes, your hair was slicked back. Yes, your eyeshadow was dark as the night. Yes, your suit jacket barely covered your chest. Yes, your nails were painted black and sharp as daggers. But, no, you weren’t sleezy. You were dressed for your job. What was your job? Well, that was a bit more complicated….

 “I need you to get close to him.” Erwin said coolly, stubble covered chin resting on his strong hands.

 “I’m sorry?” You asked, genuinely hoping you had too much wax lodged in your ear canals.

 “You heard him.” You met the glare of the midget standing behind your boss.

 “Okay, smartass, I did. But you can’t be serious, boss! He’s beyond dangerous. Shouldn’t someone like,” you gestured in Levi’s direction, “one of the Ackermans take care of this? I’m not discounting myself or anything, but fucking with a Yeager is basically a suicide mission.” You were actually shocked Erwin asked you to do something so important. More so, dangerous. You weren’t exaggerating when you said it was a death sentence. You’d lost enough comrades to know that.

 “Listen, he’s the key to taking down the Marlian Syndicate.” You knew that, but still, this seemed out of left field. “The Ackermans are strong, yes, but they lack a certain…”

 “They’re not ready to whore themselves out. Just say that, Smith.” You understood now. The Ackermans were cold blooded killers ready to strike at any moment. However, they were awkward and completely inept at things like lust and heated and frankly revolting rendezvous. That was how he wanted you to get information for him.

 Erwin wanted you to fuck the leader of the Marlian Syndicate.

 “I wouldn’t use that wording exactly, but your assumption is correct.” Levi couldn’t seem to meet your gaze, but Erwin continued to stare straight into your soul. He was the leader of La Peste Eldienne (The Eldian Plague) for a reason. Strong, debonair, charming, and slightly insane. He could down a beer in one swig, sip a martini all night long, or abstain from alcohol completely. Whatever he needed to do, he did. He murdered, sent the idiotic young and the hopeless old to their deaths just the same, and could absolutely wine and dine a stranger until their clothes practically flew off their body if it was for the cause. You needed to be like that. Especially at a time like this.

 “I’ll do it. And I’ll do it well.” You assured your boss and his partner. Yeah, this would be easy. You could go low as the scum you were about to completely fuck over. You had been climbing up the ranks as of late, so this would be easy as pie.

Before going on your little date: you made a mental note of the main players you would have to deal with. The list you had went something like this:

Porco Galliard: Complete idiot. All brawn, no brain. Basically a bouncer with a fancier jacket and a higher salary. No worries about him doing anything funny.

Pieck Finger: The sweet little thing they kept around for good reason. Part of you wished you had to deal with her instead. She was witty and had a surprising amount of control over the shipments of cocaine and ammunition that went on about the city. Her pretty face and calm demeanor hid her true genius. She was one of the more concerning figures at tonight’s gig, but also one of the one’s more willing to hear you out before killing you.

Colt Grice: Basically a smarter but weaker version of Galliard. He was really only part of the Syndicate to learn from the best and become a great mafioso one day. You had high hopes for him, despite yourself.

Bertholdt Hoover: A freakishly tall mix of the last three members of the gang. So sweaty and shaky he wasn’t allowed to handle guns under any circumstance. That told you all you needed to know about his threat level.

Annie Leonhardt: Tiny, quiet ball of rage and skill. Could murder you in an instant, but would only do so if ordered. Not a concern unless someone else found you out, or you didn’t like being glared at all night.

Reiner Braun: His personality changed with the passing minutes. Could be calm and almost kind, or could snap your neck like a twig in his giant ass hand. He was a wildcard, and a dangerous one. Though he was obsessed with following orders and being the perfect little soldier boy, so you didn’t need to worry about him if no one told him to start shooting.

Yelena: Even more freakishly tall than Hoover. Also freakishly obsessed with the gang leader and his “master plan”, whatever the hell that was. Maybe you would find out tonight. Anyways, she would only do anything if you threatened the boss in any way. If you did your job right, that wouldn’t be an issue.

Eren Yeager: Easily the most brash and idiotic member of the gang. His problem was that he was trigger happy. In this business, trigger happy meant dozens of dead innocents piled up on the club floor in an instant. You had to be careful around him. Unlike most of the others, he would kill you without thinking.

And the top dog. The man of the hour. The man you had to seduce:

Zeke Yeager: Think Erwin but with more wit and charm. Not to mention more of a sadistic mindset. His favorite game was cat and mouse, seeing how long it took before he had a good excuse to have someone drawn and quartered. His expertise was slow torture that the victim didn’t even really know was happening before the barrel of the gun was already pointed to their temple. And you had to fuck him so stupid he leaked confidential information.

 The only other issue with Zeke was his habit of sleeping around. Yes, he was a tramp by most standards. A harlot with exotic tastes. You had heard stories of him seducing women and men alike, and god only knew what they did once he succeeded. What that meant for you was he would be hard to impress.

 So, you were here to beat him at his own game. And if you were found out, his younger brother would most likely shoot you on the spot. That was, if one of the others did it first. Or even worse, Zeke decided to be a tried and true asshole and torture you to death. The options were endless, and you hated them all.

 So there you sat, ass perched on a bar stool, sipping on a gin rickey and waiting for your opportunity. The room smelled strongly of tobacco, rum, and cinnamon. At least you would die surrounded by what you loved, you thought, laughing grimly to yourself. Men and women danced to slow songs you faintly recognized. The air buzzed with haughty laughter and upper class small talk. You barely had any idea how to interact with high society shitheads as high and mighty as the ones Yeager surrounded himself with. You weren’t often sent out to jobs like this. You were like Levi, born in the slums and never taught how to properly behave. You knew what you had to, much like your knowledge of the goings on of La Peste Eldienne. You knew your gang traded drugs, ammunition, and whatever else was a hot commodity at the time, but nothing other than that. You were actually quite glad to know nothing, since that made you a pretty unimportant person to rival gangs. Not as many death threats and kidnapping attempts came your way, unlike the ones Erwin, Hange, and Levi got every day. You were quickly pulled out of your thoughts on the gang hierarchy.

 “Excuse me, miss. The boss wants to chat with ya’ real quick.” A man with greasy hair and green, catlike eyes softly gripped your shoulder. Considering what you knew of Galliard, you figured that grip wouldn’t be soft for much longer if you didn’t do as he suggested.

 “Oh, alright. Did he happen to mention why?” You were genuinely curious. Porco didn’t offer you any solid answer, but there was a reasonable explanation.

 Zeke wanted to get his rocks off. Parties could be interesting, with the right people, of course. The right people hadn’t happened to show up that night. You, on the other hand, seemed interesting. To be frank, you were gorgeous. Even from a distance, he could tell there was something behind your eyes that spelled trouble. He loved people like you. Vicious, cunning, witty, all hidden behind an uninterested and bored demeanor. Those were the people he wanted around him. The best examples were Pieck, and surprisingly, Levi. They seemed to be completely different people than the ones hiding behind their eyes, and Zeke loved to see how long it took to break them down. Well, he was a bit kinder to Pieck, but you and Ackerman got the rough treatment.

 “Zeke, what the hell’re you doin’?” Eren pulled him out of his rather disgusting thoughts of…things better left unsaid.

 “I’m going to talk to a woman, Eren. What does it seem like I’m doing?” Zeke had a sharp tongue and quick wit, which he didn’t spare even his brother from.

 “I get that, but why that one? She seems…shady t’me. I wouldn’t let ‘er get too close, y’know?”

 “Eren, please be rational.” Zeke held a palm out in front of Eren, as if to physically stop his train of thought. “You and Yelena will shoot at the first sign of danger, so inviting this lovely woman to join us for a harmless chat isn’t a danger in the slightest.” Zeke reassured his brother, neglecting to tell him his true intentions. He was sure that would just make him more upset and skittish, which was dangerous for everyone there.

 “’Kay, boss. Got the dame ya’ asked for.” Porco trudged to the brothers’ secluded table with you in tow. He had kept one hand on your shoulder and the other right above your ass. The two main reasons being: one, he didn’t want someone so seemingly important to escape his grip, and two, you had a nice ass.

 “Ah, thank you Galliard…you can let her go now.” He gave Porco a knowing smirk. He let you go immediately and walked away, cheeks slightly reddened. Zeke didn’t want someone else touching his new toy.

 “I’m sorry if this comes off as rude, but did you need something from me? That man made me leave my gin at the bar and I would like to finish it at some point.” Oh, Zeke was going to love you. You weren’t flighty or scared in the slightest. He knew you had seen some serious shit. Not to mention how you cared more about your alcohol than a dangerous mafia boss and his younger brother ordering you over to their table. You were attractive and relatable. What a catch.

 “My apologies, Galliard tends to be a bit, how do you say, brutish. Feel free to order something new and sit down with us.” He gave you a smile that told you it wasn’t a suggestion. This guy was already just as bad as everyone had told you. He hailed a waiter over to the table. You knew that wasn’t some kind gesture, rather a show of how much power he had over everyone there. His long, thick fingers and suave smile also showed you how easily swayed you could be by dashing looks and raw power.

 He held himself like a king but talked like a philosopher. At the same time, he was down to earth yet still slightly condescending. You never knew where you stood with him, and he liked it that way. His flaxen hair was parted down the middle, and unlike most of the men there along with yourself with their hair hardened with pomade, it was fluffy and moved as he gestured wildly when he spoke. He tended to talk with his hands, once again drawing attention to just how attractive they were. His face was indescribably beautiful. His eyes were like stormy oceans cascading with passion and intrigue. His lips looked soft and plush with a wonderful roseate hue. His beard was well groomed and framed his sharp jaw perfectly. His gold rimmed glasses had a habit of hiding his eyes when thrown into direct light, which often happened with how he talked with his whole body. The way he constantly made direct eye contact with you had you lost in a daze of desire and fear. Was this all some sick ploy to get you to slip up and get everyone you loved killed along with yourself? Or was he seriously that interested in you?

 Eren was quiet most of the time, unless Zeke spoke to him. He didn’t like you. You were too similar to Zeke for his tastes.

 “Say, Eren, could you pass me a smoke?”

 “Oh, so you do have vices. See, you never ordered a drink for yourself, so I assumed you were a man above pleasures of the flesh.” You flashed a toothy grin at him, signaling that it was just playful banter. You two were both rather good at that.

 “My dear, the more you get to know me, the better you will understand just how enthralled with earthly pleasures I am.” He winked, and it sent you to the moon with want. How could a man be so gorgeous, charming, dangerous, and sadistic all at the same time? And why did you have to deal with it? You needed him out of his right mind, but it seemed like that could never happen. Whether it came from alcohol, drugs, or sex. You planned to use a mixture of all three. As you continued your playful jabs and taunts at each other, you found your opportunity to seal the deal. One sniff of the white stuff and he was putty in your hands.

 “Now you know, Mr. Yeager, gin isn’t my only vice.” You kept your usual sly tone.

 “Oh really? That is quite the interesting thing to say.” He matched your energy perfectly. This was too good.

 “Have you ever happened to try, well, what do they call it these days? Well, I tend to call it blow. Snow, stardust, snort, sugar, crack, whichever you prefer, I suppose.” Oh, how brave of you to mention your own trade to your top competitor.

 “Why, yes, I have indeed partook in snorting blow. Is there any reason as to why you’re asking me that right now, darling?” You wished he would stop with the pet names. Or rather, you wished you would stop loving them so much. It felt dirty to enjoy your enemy’s company to this extent.

 “Well, I was wondering if you might like to sneak off and try some of my personal mix.” You leaned in close, covering the side of you mouth with your hand. Eren wasn’t a bad kid or anything, but he’d mess with your plan, and you couldn’t have that. Especially not with his slippery ass trigger finger.

 “Your own personal mix, eh? Don’t tell me you’re involved in the trade, now.” He leaned in just shy of touching your lips. “That wouldn’t be very good for either of us, sweetheart.” That’s it, you were fucking this man if it was part of your plan or not. The entire thing could go south, and you’d still want this man’s dick in your mouth. You didn’t really care anymore. He was too hot to handle, and you were this close to cracking under the pressure. Zeke was right, you were fun to play with.

 “Not at all, I just happen to know the right people.” You grinned at him, knowing you technically weren’t lying. It was your own little inside joke, or so you thought.

 The next thing you knew you were in Zeke’s penthouse, smashed up against the wall with a hand around your neck. By all accounts, this is what you wanted, but it was also quite the opposite.

 “Dearest, I find it insulting that you think I would fall for that pitiful act.” He had you figured out from the moment you walked in. Zeke Yeager never forgot a pretty face. He’d wanted to have you naked in his bed for months, and here you were, all helpless and needy. You were adorable, thinking you could get whatever you wanted from him.

 “Smith was a fool to send anyone, let alone a little minx like you.” You hated how good being insulted by this bitch felt. How did he make it so that your panties got wetter every time he called you a different synonym for whore? It was so awful and so amazing.

 “I’m the slut, yet you’re the one actively trying to fuck me? Do I have that right?” You quipped the best you could from under the pressure of his strong hand.

 “Alright then, we’re both sluts. But the difference between us is that I admit it, yet you pretend to be this perfect little princess in order to fuck powerful men like me.” His grip on your neck tightened as if to add injury to insult.

 “Don’t insult me,” you had to catch your breath between each word, “I fuck men ten times more powerful than you.” But, god was it worth it. You figured he might slap you or otherwise reprimand you, but no, the bastard just smiled wide. What a fucking asshole.

 “Maybe to you.” He widened his cheshire grin. “Maybe you think Erwin’s more powerful. That he has a bigger cock and sucking it will get you further in life.” He pushed you further into the wall. “Or maybe letting Ackerman smack your ass will earn you some cash. Or having Zacharius sniff around your cunt instead of your neck will rise you up the ranks, hmm?” You just grimaced at him, knowing none of it was true. “Or maybe,” he let out a chuckle, “letting Zoe do whatever the hell they’re into will get you more coke and gin.” He was mocking you, ruthlessly, with no signs of stopping, and without letting you get a word in. You were starting to see black spots in your line of vision.

 “Well, fucking with me will get you much more, angel.” He finally let your neck go, letting you fall to the ground, left to look up at the devil in front of you.

 “You fucking suck.” You glared at him, not necessarily trying to hide how much you were enjoying this. As it happened, you weren’t some innocent angel. No, you weren’t a sadistic maniac like Zeke, but you knew what you wanted, and it wasn’t necessarily vanilla. As if reading your earlier thoughts, he bent down to your place on the floor.

 He slapped you, and it wasn’t gentle.

 “You’re a sloppy whore on your best days, now get up and strip.” Well if worst came to worst, you could say that you got him where you wanted him…just not exactly how you wanted him, or with a guarantee you would get what you wanted out of him. Honestly, you felt kind of flattered by his attention and apparent need to fuck you.

 “God, do I have to do everything for you, sweetheart?” Apparently you had been standing around catching your breath too long for his liking. He had made quick work of his own jacket, shirt, and dress pants, leaving him in a black pair of boxers. You hated admitting how magnificent he looked. He was muscular, but not in the same way someone like Reiner or Erwin was. Every single limb on him was lengthy and wiry, thus the bruise marks forming on your neck. While on the subject of length, from what you could see, it applied to his cock as much as it did his other appendages. If it looked that good through the black fabric, you couldn’t even dream of what it would look like out in the open, slapping against his defined v-line and abs.

 You hadn’t even noticed him getting closer to you, completely forgetting about his earlier demand turned complaint.

 “Not only are you a harlot, you’re a useless one, as well.” He came close enough for you to smell the hints of smoke, pine, and black tea that wafted off of him. He started playing with the collar of your shirt. “But damn if you aren’t a pretty one…” He said that more to himself than you, clearly not being comfortable complimenting you. He saw you as a toy, a pawn in his game of chess he was playing with the rest of the world.

 You decided that would be your last deep thought as he began to undress you. Nimbly moving his fingers down each button of your dress shirt, until it came completely undone and bore your chest to him. You were by no means flat, which seemed to entertain the man in front of you.

 “I knew you’d be the perfect slut for me.” He groped your breasts through your bra, hands greedy with the clear goal of making you yearn for him. “Perfect tits, soft skin, pretty face, nice ass, strong will. Yeah, you’ll be fun to break.” He gave you one of his signature smirks, making you want to crush his windpipe and deepthroat his dick at the same time.

 You shrugged your top off your shoulders and let him snake his arms around your chest to undo your bra and expose your tits to the cool air of the room. He didn’t waste time kissing your filthy mouth, and instead skipped straight to your sensitive neck. He slowly dragged his soft lips down your throat, kissing his way over to both sides and under your jaw. He licked and sucked at any area that made you gasp or let out some embarrassing little noise you tried to desperately to hide. He hated how you hid, he needed you to need him, to want him at a level beyond human comprehension. He wanted to destroy you, do break you down to your most animalistic and pitiful form. You were strong, that was for damn sure, but he wanted to fix that.

 He took all this into account as he began nipping at the tops of your breasts. He moved from one to the other with no clear pattern. He dragged his tongue down to your right nipple, only touching the tip of his tongue to it, making you shiver in anticipation and let out a small whine. Yes, that was the progress he wanted to see from you. He swirled his tongue around it, slowly making his way to the center, harshly sucking it into his mouth. He pulled his sinful mouth away from you, leaving a trail of saliva connecting him to you. He quickly made his way to your other nipple, doing the same and driving you just as wild.

 “You know, it wouldn’t hurt you to make more noise, darling.” He teased, sounding genuinely annoyed with you.

 “Well, maybe if you did a better job, I would be louder.” You had discovered your talent of keeping up with his smart mouth, and you used it to your advantage. You wanted to rile him up; to get a rise out of him. As previously stated, you didn’t want a vanilla little love making session, you wanted to fuck.

 “Alright then, if you’re so keen on keeping quiet,” he put his rough hands on your bare shoulders, pushing you back onto the ground, this time on your knees, “how about I stuff that mouth?” You hated how good he was at turning you on.

 He pulled his dick out right in front of your face, letting it lay on his toned abs, just as you had envisioned it. It was easily 10 inches long, 5 inches thick, with a slight upturn that could drive you insane if it hit the right spots, which it would. It was flushed pink and dripping pre-cum; it was pretty.

 “Well, are you just going to gawk at it or are you going to make yourself useful, slut?” The sweet pet names were out the window, swiftly replaced with the most debasing insults he could think of. To avoid any more of his smart ass remarks, you took his thick cock in your hands. You slowly stroked it, taking in exactly how big it was. You moved your plush lips closer, giving it a few small kitten licks to test the waters. You kissed the head and gave longer licks up the side, earning a grunt or two from the man above you. As you began to swirl your tongue around his tip, his strong hand came down and pushed on the back of your head. It wasn’t gentle, forcing you to take him down your throat. Considering his size, it was no shock that you choked on it at first, but he kept his hand on your hair, forcing you to stay on him.

 “That’s it, sweetheart, keep that dirty mouth on fat cock.” Tears starting pooling in your eyes as you struggled to breath around his length. “Aww, are you actually crying?” He cooed, taking sick pleasure in mocking you. “How pathetic of you, darling.” His words send shockwaves of shame and pleasure down to your core. You abhorred how badly you needed him inside of you. As he let out a low moan, he pulled you off his cock, tugging your hair just enough to make you even wetter.

 “Alright, angel. I’m not a big fan of blowjobs, so we’ll leave it at that.” You coughed a little as he bent down to your heaving form.

 “Really? That’s a shock.” That was your genuine reaction. You were far too fucked out to be a smart ass at this point.

 “Yeah, you’re not the first to make that observation.” Much to your surprise, he picked you up bridal style, barely breaking a sweat in the process of getting you to his bedroom. Though the lights were on, you couldn’t take in many details, your cock drunk state making it difficult to process anything other than the warm, bare skin of the monster you tried so hard to vanquish.

 “Now, lets get these cute little panties off, hmm?” You had forgotten him taking off your pants in the heat of the moment. His menacing figure loomed overtop of you, slowly sinking down to your thighs. He placed licks and kisses all over them, leaving a few bite marks along with them. You moaned louder than before, feeling too blissed out to care about your pride. You felt large, tepid fingers hooking themselves between your legs and into your panties. He pulled them to the side, wanting to really take you in. Despite his lust for power and dominance, he much preferred giving head to receiving it, especially when it came to women and their soft, tender pussies. You were no exception to this rule.

 “Goddamn you’re fucking wet.” You looked up at you, making you lean your head back to avoid his gaze. “You must like me more than you care to admit, sweetie.” Just after saying this, he ran one long finger up your dripping slit, coating his fingertip in your slick. He looked at it shimmering in the low light of the room, grinning before taking it into his mouth and tasting what your cunt had to offer.

 “You taste like heaven. Surprising, considering what a nasty girl you are.” Unlike you, he could keep that smartass act up for hours on end, no matter how lost in your sex he was. He landed a chaste kiss to your throbbing heat before flattening his tongue to lick a fat stripe up the middle. He began to devour you, making the lewdest noises you had ever heard in the process. You felt amazing, and disgusting, and just about every other emotion you had ever felt in your life. He was a god at eating your pussy, feeling no remorse in having his lips and beard dripping with your juices. To hell with the burn marks he left on your thighs and the burning sense of guilt you had for moaning so loud and creaming all over the face of your greatest enemy. Shame and guilt were for foolish children with no place in the world, Zeke wanted to enjoy every last second of destroying you.

 As he continued to lick and suck at your most sensitive spots, you began to feel your stomach tighten, signaling your closeness. Zeke noticed as well, taking note of your erupting moans and groans and tugs at his silky hair. He moaned on your clit, the vibrations sending you over the edge. You came all over his face, arching your back of the soft sheets and making you scream his name. He kept his lips attached to your clit as you came down from your high, keeping you ensnared in his trap of bliss.

 “God, you moan like a fucking whore, you know that?” The way he insulted you felt disgustingly good, especially coming from such a obnoxiously handsome man.

 “And you eat pussy like a god.” The veil of hatred came off in one foul swoop. You couldn’t hold back how you truly felt about Zeke Yeager. You were in love with the way he treated you, and spoke to you, and ate you, and soon enough, fucked you. He was so damn good, and you just hated to love and loved to hate him.

 “Oh, do I now?” He let out a low chuckle, taking pride in how helpless and stupid he had made you. “Does that make me your god, pet?” It wasn’t a real question. He knew the answer, and he loved that answer: yes.

 “Now, how about I partake in some earthly pleasures and fuck your brains out, sweetheart?” He questioned, moving his arms up to rest on both sides of your head. His face was right above yours, lips hovering over your breathless, panting ones.

 “Yes, please.” Your eyebrows scrunched together as you grew impatient and needy as all hell. Zeke had a sinister idea. God was a nice term, but he could think of a better one.

 “How about you beg daddy for it?” He was such a disgusting pervert, and he relished in it. You mustered all the strength you could in order to speak.

 “Please fuck my pussy, daddy.” That was all he needed to push himself inside your tight heat. Your walls clenched as he thrusted balls deep inside of you, not caring if you needed to adjust or not. Luckily, you didn’t, despite his size.

 “Fuck yes, angel. You’re so goddamn tight.” He thrusted into you with reckless abandon, using you more than making love to you, which is exactly what you both wanted. Your walls clenched and throbbed as he brought you to orgasm once again.

 “Cumming all over my cock, sweetheart? Such a dirty whore.” He teased, continuing his motions, hitting your g-spot over and over again without much issue. His dick was perfect, reaching every inch of you that made you scream out in pleasure and overstimulated bliss. All of this for a few bags of cocaine and bullets. You weren’t even thinking of that as he pounded into you, getting rougher and sloppier than before. He was getting close to his own high just as you were about to reach your third. No one had ever made you feel like this. You never wanted to let him go. Fuck everyone you cared about, this was too damn good to throw away.

 “Where do you want my cum, slut?” He asked seconds before climaxing.

 “Wherever you want it, daddy.” That was exactly what he wanted to hear. You had been molded into the perfect toy for him, even if it was just for the moment. He had debased and perverted you, like putty in his hands. You thought you could just waltz in there and take what you wanted from him. But no, instead you were writhing around on his bed with his fat cock filling up your pussy while you screamed for your daddy. You were filthy, slutty perfection. He quickly pulled out of you and shot his cum on your stomach and chest. Noticing you were still squirming around, he pushed his thumb to your clit and rubbed circles as two of his fingers entered you and hit your sweet spot.

 “Come on, slutty girl, cum for daddy.” This time felt different than the others. You were completely out of your mind with pleasure and lust, and he was hitting just the right spots. You came around his fingers, squirting your juices and ruining his sheets. As if he could sense it, he had moved his face down just in time for it to reach his mouth, coating yet another layer of your cum on his beard. He licked his lips, savoring you taste and the blissed out, fuck drunk look on your face. He wished he could keep you like this forever. No, he would make sure to keep you like this forever. You were going to be his for the rest of time, no matter what it took. Even if he had to play the long game and pretend you had a choice in the matter.

 “Well, sweetheart, I’m afraid you have to go home empty handed. I’m sure those tarts will just pat you on the head and congratulate you for trying your best. That’s why they’ll never surpass me, and that’s why you will come crawling back to me.” You couldn’t respond, too disappointed and drained to say a word.

 “I have a shower that I recommend you use.” He looked down at you, your eyes hazy and barely focused on him. You were completely exposed to him. You looked beautiful. “In an act of civility, I’ll let you sleep here tonight. On a different bed, of course, considering the damage you’ve done.” You laughed at that, and he followed suite.

 “You know Zeke, for a monster, you’re not too bad.” You looked at him, admiration clear in your eyes.

 “You’re not too unbearable either.”

[thebigbadbatswife]

The Witching Hour - Chapter 1 - All Hallows’ Eve

Summary - When her friends dragged her to Gotham’s old cemetery for some Halloween ghost hunting fun, Y/N really didn’t think her life would end up changing like this.

Chapter Warnings - referenced/implied character death

Word Count - 3.3k

The cell phone on your nightstand buzzed incessantly as your friends continued to spam your messages. They had been doing so for the past hour or so. You were surprised that the damn thing hadn’t vibrated off of the nightstand yet. When it finally stopped, when you finally thought they had given up, you returned your attention to the document you had open on your laptop. Just as you were about to start typing again, your phone resumed its buzzing.

Huffing, you shut your laptop’s lid, placed it on the bed next to you, reached over and grabbed your phone off the nightstand. Over eighty messages both from your friends individually and within the group chat, begging you to come along with them to the old cemetery that sat outside of town. They wanted to go because it was Halloween and that meant it was the best time to go ghost hunting! And they wanted you to go along because of how you were usually drawn to this type of stuff. As well as how this type of stuff was also usually drawn to you.

Come on! For old time’s sake? Plus we’re going to have a much better chance at actually catching something if you come along!

The message was from your friend John, the ringleader of your group. The reason you and your friends had always gotten into trouble at school. Now he was trying to work his magic once again.

Only because I’m a meta with an uncomfortably close relationship with death…

As far as you knew, your powers were genetic instead of being caused by that arc reactor explosion that had given a lot of metas their powers. You were able to look past the “Veil”, as it was called, and see and interact with spirits on the other side. Not that you did so often or even liked to do. It creeped you out and you sometimes saw things that would certainly traumatize most people if they saw them. Not to mention the strain on your body and mind each time you did it. 

Why the obsession with the old cemetery now?

It had been years since John had mentioned ghost hunting, let alone the old cemetery. Back during your last year of high school, it had been all John could talk about. He was convinced that it was where the “cool” ghosts would be hanging out. None of you had ever actually gone because your last year had passed surprisingly quickly and before you all knew it, you were all moving to different parts of the country for college. In all that time it had never been mentioned again. Until now.

Ha! She finally replies! I knew you wouldn’t leave us to scream into the void forever!

The next message was from Tom, your oldest friend. Unlike the others, you two had known each other since kindergarten. If anyone was capable of talking you into going, it was probably him.

It’s been years since all of us were in the same place at the same time! Not to mention it’s Halloween and a full moon! I don’t think it could be more perfect!

Well, he wasn’t wrong about that.

You know you want to come! And don’t you dare lie!

He wasn’t wrong about that either. You were a little curious. The cemetery was on the outskirts of Gotham City. According to the internet, the cemetery had members of Gotham’s oldest families buried there. If you were to use your powers there to look past the Veil, there was a chance some of those people could still be hanging around. It would certainly be an unique opportunity to converse with them and, perhaps, attempt to help move on. Or maybe you would find inspiration for your next short ghost story. You certainly had been struggling with inspiration recently so maybe this was exactly what you needed.

Okay! Fine! I’ll come!

You scoffed as you hit ‘send’. Once again, Tom had talked you into joining them. A small part of you was convinced he was a meta with some sort of manipulation power.  

That’s great! ‘Cause we’re already outside your house!

John replied, causing you to roll your eyes. Of course they were already outside. Why wouldn’t they be?

You locked your phone, got up from your bed and slipped your phone into your pocket. You grabbed your jacket from your wardrobe and made your way out of your bedroom and down the stairs. You grabbed your keys from the bowl on the table, near the front door.

“Y/N? Where are you going at this hour sweetheart?” your grandma called from the living room.

“I’m going to meet up with some old friends. I’ll be back soon!” you replied. You didn’t tell her where you guys were going since you knew she would most definitely disapprove.

“Stay safe!”

“Will do!”

After your parents’ death, your grandma had not only raised you, but helped you learn how to use your abilities so that, should you choose to, you’d be able to use them. Not that she would approve of you constantly using them. Looking through the Veil could sometimes draw the attention of extremely unwanted creatures that were looking for a route to the physical world. You knew how to defend yourself from them, but that didn’t mean you really wanted to get into that situation to begin with. If you were going to use your abilities tonight, you were going to have to be extremely careful.

The entire drive there, your friends excitedly talked about what they could potentially capture on either video or audio. John was driving, Tom sat in the passenger seat next to him and you were sitting in the back with Rebecca.

A couple of hours later and the car finally pulled up in front of the cemetery. John turned off the engine and you all got out. Since it was pretty much pitch black out here, you all got out your phones and turned on your flashlights.

Tall stone walls covered in moss and vines surrounded the cemetery and an old rusted iron gate stopped the car from going any further. Threaded through the bars of the gate was large rusted chain with an equally rusted padlock. Even if you guys had the key, you seriously doubted it would have worked anyway.

“Are you kidding me?” asked Tom, as he useless pulled against the chain. “This is so unfair!”

“Uh, maybe we could try to scale the walls or something?” Rebecca suggested as she walked over to where the vines seemed at their thickest. She gave them a gentle tug. “Looks like it might hold our weight, if we go up one by one.”

Tom shook his head. “And get covered in spiders? Yeah, no thanks!”

Rebecca frowned as she used her phone’s light to have a closer look at the vines. “I can’t see any spiders.”

“That’s because you’re not looking in the right spots,” he replied as he walked over to her. He shone his own light up at the vines.

While you walked over to them, to get a better look at what Tom was trying to show her, John shook his head and walked back toward the car.

“See all of those tiny turquoise dots shinning back at us?” he asked her as he pointed above where there were a lot of tiny turquoise dots sparkling in the light.

“Yeah, they’re like little drops of moisture right?”

“You would think, but they’re not! Those are the eyes of all those horrid little spiders!”

Rebecca squealed and immediately backed away from the wall. “Tom! Why the fuck would you tell me that! Fuck! There’s probably going to be so many of them inside the actual cemetery! And now I know how to spot them!”

“I don’t think that’s going to be much of an issue considering we can’t get in anyway,” you said as you gestured toward the very locked gate. This whole thing was starting to feel like a massive waste of time.

“Oh! But we can!” John announced as he strode on over to you three with a large pair of bolt cutters in hand. He also had a backpack slung over his shoulder. As he cut the chain, John explained how he had swung by here earlier to see if there was anything that would stop you lot from getting in. When he saw the chain, he had gone to the hardware store, that was located in the worst part of the city, and bought these. “Only place I could find that had bolt cutters big enough for a chain like this!”

“Aren’t we like breaking the law or something right now?” Rebecca asked just as the cutters snipped through the chain and it clanged against the gate.

“Probably,” John replied very nonchalantly. “But we’re pretty much committed at this point now. Besides, look at this place! No one’s been here in years! I seriously doubt we’re going to get caught.”

The iron gate creaked loudly as it was pushed open and you all headed inside. The others walked ahead while you trailed behind. The way they were talking, discussing who was buried here and therefor who they could potentially “contact”, made you feel like you had time-travelled back to high school.

When you all got to the centre of the cemetery, John took the backpack off and opened it. It was filled with all sorts of equipment that was used in modern day ghost hunting. Voice recorders, emf meters, even a couple of high end night vision cameras. Damn, he had really gone all out for this. After the gear had been handed out, John began to give everyone directions as to where they were off to investigate.

Tom and Rebecca were going to be investigating the southwest of the cemetery, which was the newest part, John was headed up to the north, where some mausoleums were shaded by an old willow tree and you:

“And Y/N, you get the oldest part of the cemetery which is toward the east!”

“Right, of course, send the meta to the creepiest part of this place,” you said, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Well, you said it, not me! Good luck and we’ll meet back here in a couple of hours,” John replied. With that, you all split up and went your separate ways.

The cemetery was vastly overgrown. Most of the headstones were buried beneath the long unruly grass, brambles and vines. Every now and then your flashlight would catch a glimpse of the grey stone underneath. You also caught more glimpses of those glowing spider eyes and were doing your best to ignore them. You really hated Tom sometimes.

Thanks to all of the plants, you could barely see the path. The only thing that indicated you were walking on one was every now and then you could feel a stone slab shift underneath your feet.

The further east you walked, the darker and darker the cemetery seemed to get. It also seemed to get creepier and creepier, which was strange to you because you never really found cemeteries creepy. Instead you had always found them peaceful. A lot of people found you weird for that. There was also the feeling that something was watching you. The uneasiness that came along with that feeling was enough to prevent you from using either your recorder or your abilities. If there really was something watching you, you got the feeling that the last thing you wanted to do was attract its attention. After all, who knew what truly lurked here? Especially on the other side.

You eventually reached a group of mausoleums. Much like the rest of the cemetery, they were covered in bramble, vines and other plantlife. They were tall and the parts of them you could see, you could tell were certainly made of far more expensive stone than the rest of the place. This wasn’t just the oldest part, this was also the richest part.

You approached a few of the mausoleums and managed to clear away some of the plants covering the name plates. The majority of the names had been erased due to the elements, but not all of them. The names that were still readable were also names you recognised. Kane, Elliot, Crowne. Three of the First Families of Gotham.

You were about to approach another when you saw something large and black move, out of the corner of your eye. You spun around and shone your flashlight in the direction of the shadow, but there was nothing there.

“Hello?” you called out, which was probably a terrible idea, but it was the only thing you could think of doing. “Who’s there?” You waited for a reply, but no reply came.

Was your nerves making you see things? It couldn’t be a spirit; you weren’t using your powers. Unless… Throughout your life you had heard of non metas who had “seen” things in their peripheral vision. Sometimes they were spirits that had briefly broken through the Veil, other times it really was just people imagining things. Until now you had never experienced it before and you hated how impossible it was to tell which one it was.  

Turning on your phone’s screen, you looked at the time. You still had an hour before you had to head back to meet back up with the others. Turning the screen off again, you looked back in the direction you had seen the shadow move toward. Did you follow? It sounded like an awful idea, but the only other thing you could do was head back early and then wait around for everyone else, and that sounded incredibly boring.

‘ Okay, guess I’m doing this then,’ you thought as you began to head down the path, in the direction the shadow had gone.

You had previously thought that there was no way this cemetery could be anymore overgrown than it already was. This new part you were now walking through proved you wrong. Extremely wrong.

Branches hanging low off of trees and thorns from the brambles tugged at your clothing as you passed them. You had to keep an extra careful eye out on where you were stepping so that you didn’t trip over and injure yourself. There were more mausoleums, but you could barely make their shapes out through all of the greenery.

As you walked, that feeling that something was watching you increased tenfold and you found yourself constantly glancing back. Each time you looked you were met with the same result. There was nothing there.

‘ It’s just my overactive imagination ,’ you told yourself, but that did nothing to soothe your growing fear. What if the thing you had seen had been an actual person? And not a good person at that. This was Gotham after all and for some reason Halloween was when most, if not all, the psychopaths suddenly came out to play. Were you about to become another notch in some serial killer’s knife hilt? Oh, you really hoped not. That was not how you wanted to go.

Before your mind could lead you down a dark path of all the vivid ways you could be brutally murdered right now, the path came to an end. At the end of it sat a lone mausoleum. This one didn’t look nearly as old as the others nor was it as covered in plants like the rest. As you walked over to it you saw one of the large iron doors had fallen off its hinges and now laid on the ground.

Cautiously, you approached the entrance. When you were close enough, you shone your light on the name plate. The name ‘Wayne’ was engraved on to it. You got a feeling that that was somehow important, but you really didn’t know why. Nor why you were so drawn to it. Almost as if you were now on autopilot, you stepped inside the mausoleum.

The first two names you saw were Martha and Thomas Wayne. Even years after their deaths, you knew the names well. Before their untimely deaths they had been trying to use their fortune to help the city and its more vulnerable citizens.

The next name you saw, you didn’t recognise. Jason Peter Todd. You were shocked when you saw his death date. “Fuck, you were barely sixteen years old,” you whispered. That was... that was not fair at all.

The last name was Bruce Wayne. It stood out to you a lot more than the others had. Almost as if it was…. Glowing? What? That made no sense. Okay, you were definitely just seeing things now. To prove that to yourself, you turned your flashlight off. The name continued to glow, in fact now it was a hell of a lot brighter.

“What the fuck?”

You peered closer to see if there was any small lights or something similar causing it to glow, but there wasn’t anything. The name was actually glowing! Freaked out, you took a picture of it (without the flash of course), and sent it to Tom. A few agonising minutes passed before he finally replied.

Why are you sending me a completely black photo?

What? You checked the picture you had sent and, yeah, the name was definitely visible.

Can’t you see the glowing name?

If Tom couldn’t see it, then what did that mean?

What are you on about? There’s nothing there. Are you okay?

Was this somehow related to your powers? Is that why Tom wasn’t able to see it? If that was the case, and with each passing second it seemed to be, then he or the others couldn’t help.

Yeah, I’m fine. Nevermind.

Sighing, you checked the time before you shut off you phone and slipped it into your pocket. Thirty minutes before you had to head back. You were on your own. If this was related to your powers then what exactly did you do with it? Your grandma had never mentioned anything like this before, so you had no clue. You still felt uneasy and this new discovery had done nothing to help so you really didn’t want to peer through the Veil, unless it was absolutely necessary.

Would anything happen if you reached out and touched it? You sometimes got flashes of memories or feelings when you touched some items. Maybe this could be the same? You supposed the only way to find out would be to touch the stone. Cautiously you reached out and pressed the palm of your hand against the cold stone.

Images flashed through your mind. Movie tickets, a pearl necklace, a gun. There was the sound of the gun firing, a child’s blood chilling scream and the loud wailing of police sirens. Then it was over and you were brought back to reality, with far more questions than you had previously started with.

Before you were able to question or make sense of what you had seen, your phone vibrated. Taking it out, you saw a text from John, as well as several others.

Are you nearly here?

We were supposed to meet up fifteen minutes ago. Where are you?

Did your phone die?

It did, didn’t it. Unless you’re currently doing one of your meta things?

So what had simply been mere seconds for you in reality had been forty five minutes for everyone else. Which wasn’t all that unusual for you, but could certainly make people that didn’t deal with it daily worry. With that in mind, you fingers flew across your keyboard as you typed out your reply.

Yeah, meta thing, sorry. I’m on my way back now.

You turned your flashlight back on and walked back to the entrance. Before leaving, you looked back to where the glowing of Bruce Wayne’s name was now slowly fading away. Whoever he had been, he was asking for your help. You were sure of it and that’s exactly what you were going to do.

[who-ever-said-i-was-nice]

Hello there ~ Congrats on 100! 🎉💕 I'm so happy for you!! I was wondering if I could request a match up for Ikevamp. I'm fairly new to Tumblr and this is my first match up request so I'm a bit nervous since you are literally the first person I will have interacted with on here 😅 but I love your writing! If you are busy or have a lot of requests or anything please don't worry about it or overwork yourself! It's a lot of work and I totally understand!! Also edit, I'm really sorry in advance. This was way longer than I intended.

I am a bi female. I am an Aries but I am close to the cusp (April 18th). I don't typically associate myself with most Aries traits outwardly though since I am really shy and reserved, but internally I can see it as I am competitive with myself and a major perfectionist. But I'm low-key chaotic as can be like I'd identify myself as chaotic good since I'm just a mess with good intentions 😂 I am an INFP-T personality (which is scary accurate to me) if that helps any!

I am very short, only 5' tall and I am slim with overall small/petite features and frame. I have medium/dark, warmer toned brown eyes and auburn wavy/loose curly hair. I am very pale but have a lot of small freckles on my face and body. I've been told I look a lot younger than my age I think since I have a round face and am overall a small person. I'm very friendly and smile a ton but I am shy. I get big "eye smiles" whenever I smile and tend to blush a lot cause nerves. I've been told I tend to smile a lot and because I'm a shy, vv awkward person, my go to whenever I meet up with literally anyone is to smile out of nervous habit so people tend to think I'm overly friendly or approach me but in reality I'm a nervous boi.

I study landscape architecture and wildlife biology in college rn so I really love art and nature! I want to do habitat restoration after college. I especially am interested in plants and often go hiking and identify plants as well as do botanical drawings.

I am interested in both math and science as well as art. I enjoy watercolor painting as well and I am interested in illustrating children's books if landscape architecture doesn't pan out 😅

Besides that I have an obsession with extreme love for cats. I'm not ashamed to say my cat is my best friend, she is perfection 😂 I love anything living though thats not a person. Plant, animal, insect, they're all so wonderful to me and I tend to feel more comfortable around animals and nature than people.

My favorite color is a pale pink, I really love light, cutesy things. But my personal style is very retro academia. I wear a lot of clothes from the 60's and 70's or inspired by then. I really like fashion and fashion history.

My favorite food is spaghetti with just cheese. I may be an adult but oh well,, some plain ol spaghetti just hits the spot every time. I love baking and cooking though and have a sweet tooth. I used to decorate cakes in high school and I enjoy creating my own recipes and desserts.

I like to daydream, play video games, drink tea, sketch, read, and listen to music as well. I also spend a ton of time outdoors enjoying nature. I love trivial and fun facts. I want to gain as much knowledge as I can about the world.

I don't like things that are too loud I suppose. I'm a pretty easy going person but I am very nervous in crowds or places that are too loud. I'm also afraid of storms and I'm not fond of extremely dark places either. I don't like failing/faltering or embarrassing myself, especially in academics. I am extremely nervous talking to large groups or meeting new people as well, I prefer small, more personal interactions. While I enjoy talking to people it's just really hard so I don't usually unless they reach out to me first. I also hate conflict and drama (unless I'm not involved, then bring the popcorn). But any conflict is a big oof for me.

In a relationship, I really like surprise hugs and signs of affection. Sudden surprises create a sense of excitement which I really like to have. I like the idea of a relationship feeling new, passionate, and exciting, despite being together for awhile. I don't like gifts necessarily since I feel uncomfortable receiving things, I prefer sharing special memories. I'm not huge on PDA, I feel uncomfortable if someone is too clingy around others, especially my family or someone I know since my family is pretty conservative. But if we are alone, I love tons of affection and little acts of love. Hugs from behind, a small brush of our hands, holding pinkies, light kisses, and lots of smiles just make me melt, ugh tiny gestures are so cute. Communication is very important to me but not my strong suit, I tend to shy away from issues and trip over words I don't mean, but body language is very important and I think can be better for me and for my partner to understand.

I would like to be able to enjoy a comfortable silence with someone while we both read or do something while holding hands or just touching in some subtle way. I would love to be able to escape my perfectionist front that I have around others when I'm with my partner and be able to make really silly, dumb jokes and have lots of laughs. I love the idea of joking around while loosely holding each other. I present myself very seriously but I'm a big goof and rather dorky and like to have fun but romantic interactions.

Also it would be a plus if they love or at least tolerate kitty cuddles with me and my cat. My cat is such a baby, she's constantly in my lap or following me around so we are a package deal basically 😂

I'm sorry this is so long, and I hope it is enough for you as well!! Thank you so much for opening up match ups too! If you need anything else let me know! Take care of yourself and congrats!! 💕

It’s perfection don’t worry. Thank you so much for sending the request. I hope you are taking care of yourself too and everything is good.

Anyway I matched you with.....................

                                                            ............Isaac

HA BET YOU DIDN’T SEE THAT ONE COMING!

oh you did?

ok I’ll stop

Isaac is a very curious person much like yourself

he loves discovering and learning new things

and that is the first thing Isaac noticed about you to be honest

sure he saw you and was like Damn she gorgeous but that was about it

however when he discovered that you are also a curious but little nervous bean he started opening up to  you

neither of  you like crowds and loud people who disrupt your concentration, so usually you spend your time in the library

sitting together in silence and reading

loves that your cute and blushy

even tho he’s exactly the same

as you got closer he started noticing more and more things about you

how your eyes would lit up when you passed certain plants in the garden

how you would hum to yourself and dance around thee kitchen a little when you thought nobody was looking

he loved everything about you from your adorably freckles to your reserved yet charming personality

it too him a long time to confess to you

a long time and a lot of pep talks from Leo

in the end he forgot everything Leo said and confessed to you in his own way

after that oh boy

you are the definition of inseparable

he’s new to this so you have to give him a little time to get used to it

after he’s comfortable he’s very affectionate

more in private but still

will give you surprised  hugs all the time

whether it’s that he walks up behind you and hugs you while turning apple red God if Isaac was here he’d kill me for that pun or him walking and scooping you up and plopping you in his lap in the library as you both get into some book

totally gets that you don’t like going to very crowded places

BOOM your wish is my command Isaac will almost always take you to fields of beautiful flowers so you can hang out, goof around, have a picnic and the stargaze

Isaac will pull you close or just hold your hand while explaining a few things about the constellation, after you will just enjoy the silence as you bask in each others company, while gazing up at the starry sky

he holds you pinky

finds it super cute and usually blushes harder than you even though he initiated it

holding your pinky is a personal thing for him

he finds it reassuring

you’ll just be walking and all of a sudden Isaac intertwines your pinkies

he’s anxiety on legs and holding your pinky is his way to tell you that in that moment he’s scared, anxious or just extremely nervous

you usually hug him and kiss his cheek

holding your pinky can also be that he loves you and hopes he’ll be with you forever

it depends on the situation, but he likes telling you he loves you like this

he has a surprisingly good sense of humour and likes to goof around with you

loves your cat

he wasn’t much on a cat person before, but your cat likes o play with Harry and he thinks that’s really cute

all in all you guys have a really good relationship

Ok now i have to pour some water on my head

CUTENESS OVER LOAD

Lia .exe has stopped working

That’s it! I hope you enjoyed and I hope you are well! Once again thank you @uwu-catlin for the request and the compliment. Love you 3000!

[petitetiddiez]

Favourite of your own characters.

Oh that’s really hard! It changes a lot, but as of right now I think it’s this:

1. Preeti - She’s honestly like the world’s hottest lesbian to me??? This gorgeous, outdoorsy musician who’s just a little big egotistical, but has a soft side. Kind of stereotypical, but I just love it. I’m a sucker for that kind of oc. Plus, she’s really cute with her girlfriend (who was almost on the list but JUST BARELY missed it)

2. Helen (who is now latina/indian like she DESERVES) - A huge brat that I’ve owned for many many years and who has been through MANY different fandoms (including some original work set in medieval times). She’s my baby--she’s complicated and deep and has one of the most in-depth backstories of any oc. She’s fun to ship and I can always think of good interactions for her. I just. Would die for her.

3. Tiffany - She’s new, but she’s another stereotype I really like: bimbos who are smart, but just unconventionally so. She’s obviously based really heavily on Elle Woods from Legally Blonde but also has developed her own kind of thing. She’s girly, but knows how to speak her mind; she’s privileged, but tries to be aware of it and put other people in the spotlight; she’s gay, but wants what most girly teeny-boppers want out of a relationship. She’s just fun to write, and I really love ocs that are just NICE FUCKING PEOPLE. Plus, her hair is super fun to draw!

4. Phaerie - I love old school Punk and other counter-culture movements, so that is what Phaerie encompasses. I also used to have a HUGE fixation on Drow (dark elves, a race in Forgotten Realms and other fantasy settings) and that’s originally what Phae was. She’s wild and fun and impulsive, she’s hilarious, she’s EVERYTHING I WANT in an oc! She’s so fun to rp as well. She has her soft side, her talents, her flaws, but they all feel like the most sensible ones? Like her actions are wild, but her motivations and development is simple and relatable. She struggled and felt like she had to force her way into the world, so she forces her way into EVERYTHING and fuck anybody who doesn’t like that. Plus, it’s fun to draw super punky or glam rock outfits for her to wear AND she’s based on Pizzazz from Jem and the Holograms so where can you go wrong??

5. Xander - So he’s uh... Also based on some existing characters. But, he’s become enough of his own oc to where I feel comfortable sharing.

My favorite game EVER is Baldur’s Gate, and there’s a certain mod that makes you able to romance the character Xan... Who I totally love and always end up romancing even though I’m a lesbian. This is Xan

MY Xan has developed into a super depressed bartender. He’s Jewish and anxious and has an insanely huge family that constantly picks on him because he’s anxious and easy to pick on. He grew up into a mess of an adult, especially since his only real skill is cheap magic tricks. He can’t keep a relationship because he’s so cynical and self-sabotaging, but he REALLY wants one and is a freak for romantic comedies. Whenever he manages to date a girl for long enough (and he usually picks girls who treat him badly because he doesn’t think he deserves better), he tries to make some big romantic gesture and fucks it up. He’s a mess and a slob. I adore him.

6. Xanthe - Yet another anxious wreck of a person, but this time the MOST anxious wreck there is. She’s agoraphobic, overly-critical, and her entire life is online. She’s a lesbian, but hasn’t figured that out yet and instead thinks she’s aro/ace. She’s very good with details and complex problems, which manifests in her being a talented programmer. SHe’s also a hacker by trade, paid to hack into company servers and point out their flaws so the company can patch those up. She also likes models and dolls--anything with lots of tiny parts and details that she can obsess over to pass the time.

7. Jules - First of all: he’s Helen’s half-brother and I love him. Jules was a really dramatic character back in the day, but after meeting his future wife he’s developed into more of a comedic character. He’s a loser musician--not UNTALENTED but also lacking any of the motivation to do what he needs to do to make a living with music. He’s... basically a slutty bisexual bard who has settled down and chilled out. Idk, he’s just funny. I love him. He also has the MOST detailed backstory of all my ocs--it’s about 20 pages long if written out. It’s. Whew. A lot.

8. Manda - Based on one of my best friends, she’s another extremely detailed oc (probably #2 behind Jules). She would’ve been my favorite, but since I’ve kind of ‘finished’ her story I find myself not using her much. She’s the spoiled child of a shady ass celebrity lawyer and doesn’t care about much of anything EXCEPT her skill as an actress. She struggled in relationships, thinking she was bi pretty much until she met her wife and NEVER UNDERSTANDING WHY she got so attached to the women she dated. She met her wife on a reality show, they dated long distance, and then Manda flew her to California to be together forever. Her story is crazy (she was married to her weed dealer for a while??) and I think her becoming the head of a production company after a successful film career is the perfect ending for her.

9. Nia - Not a lot to say about Nia, but more I love her design and I’m excited to develop her more? Mom friend lesbian ballerina twin. Love it. Really outspoken and direct. 

10. Rae - I have a huge soft spot for Rae because I think she’s the most similar to me?? Creative young girl from a small town who desperately wants to go somewhere more accepting. Spent most of her time online, and when she finally goes to college she goes ALL OUT trying to join every club, befriend all kinds of people, follow all the trends, and be the ‘It Girl’. It’s exhausting and she ends up crashing a lot of the time, but her optimistic/bubbly personality keeps her going. I said before that I love perky nice characters and that’s Rae to a T. Also she’s poly/bi so that makes her fun to work with when it comes to shipping

[bobabangtean-blog]

coffee & crushes (i like you a latte) yoonkook au ; part 1

➵ part 1: “i’ve caught coffeels for you”

   ↪  ılı.lıllılı.ıllı now playing: would you be so kind by: dodie clark

“a change of scenery might help you out, hyung.”

namjoon’s words run through yoongi’s head as yoongi steps out of his tiny apartment and into the real world. he sneezes, a small squeak, as soon as the sun hits his eyes. he’s reminded of how much he hates summer. squinting, he makes his way down the sidewalk, staring down at his toes and counting his steps. when he sneezes the second time he curses internally at namjoon for suggesting he leave his safe haven and go to a (probably generic and wannabe hipster) coffee shop down the street.

bells jingle when yoongi enters the cafe. it isn’t as bad as he thought it would be, if he’s being honest. the walls are painted a rich cream, and the atmosphere is nice and quaint. he plays with the leaf of a snake plant as he waits in line for someone to take his order. he is only slightly aware of the permanent frown that has been etched onto his face due to sleepless nights doting over every detail of his mixtape. rubbing his eyes lightly, he steps up to the counter when the barista gestures that it’s his turn. did he leave his light on in his bedroom before he left?

“what can i get you?” a silky voice breaks through his thoughts, and soft doe-like eyes stare up at him.

the man is unfairly pretty (not that yoongi’s looking or anything). that’s the first thought yoongi has in his mind. yoongi subconsciously stares at the boy’s face for longer than probably socially acceptable and takes in that the barista looks like an actual angel.

the barista, now decorated with flushed cheeks, clears his throat.

“what?” yoongi asks, two days of sleep deprivation seeping into his voice. yoongi doesn’t realize he sounds rude until five seconds after the word leaves his mouth, and notes that his face doesn’t exactly scream “hi, i’m having a great time”. he opens his mouth to apologize before cute barista boy beats him to it.

“if you stopped openly ogling me for two seconds, you’d know i’m just trying to do my job and take your order,” the cute barista boy, which yoongi just now notices has a name tag, snaps back, and immediately widens his eyes as if he’s surprised himself.

“u-uh,” yoongi stutters intelligently, as barista boy, named jeongguk, glares at him through tired looking eyes. the glare ignites something in yoongi, and suddenly he’s pissed off too. “i’m sorry. if i’m going to be honest with you, i’ve probably gotten, like, a maximum of three hours of sleep in the span of two days. i didn’t mean to come off as rude but that didn’t mean you had to be rude back. i literally said one word. so. but y’know, service with a smile and all that, right?”

yoongi cringes internally at his harsh words but keeps up his best pissed off expression.

“so i’ll just take a cup of kilimanjaro with as many shots of espresso as legally allowed, thank you, the name is min yoongi just call it out when you’re done,” yoongi hurriedly says and makes his way to a table, cringing at the way the screech of the chair draws more attention to him. he resists the urge to bang his head against the wooden table. yoongi leaves his apartment for the first time in a month and has managed to get on someone’s bad side in less than an hour. lovely.

ears burning, he pulls out his laptop from his bag and refuses to look up in the general vicinity of where jeongguk is stationed. he takes his phone out from his back pocket and texts namjoon for comfort.

yoongi:

help

joon:

? hyung are you okay ??

yoongi:

please kill me. just end my suffering right now. that would be much appreciated. thank you so much in advance

joon:

okay the last time you told me to kill you it was because you told a cashier “love you” instead of “have a nice day”

yoongi:

i had just recently suppressed that from my memory i really needed that right now thanks

joon:

okay but seriously, whats up?

yoongi is about to text namjoon back before he hears his name being called out by jeongguk. he mentally prepares himself for the social interaction.

when he makes his way up to the counter, he notices that jeongguk is looking at him with an apologetic expression, rather than pissed off. shortly after jeongguk hands yoongi his coffee, and offers yoongi a smile, he notices that jeongguk scrunches his nose up like a bunny when he grins, and also notices how he would do anything to see it again.

he plops back down in his chair, the coffee warming his hands up, and sets the cup down on a coaster, opening his laptop lid and clicking on his unfinished mixtape. he quickly texts joon back and updates him on the tragic ordeal that unfolded minutes ago. after joon texts back three laughing emojis and one crying face emoji, yoongi decides he needs better friends, ones that don’t laugh at their other friends misfortunes, and also ones that don't use emojis unironically.

(namjoon and yoongi had actually met through an extremely awkward situation, joon finishing a philosophy 101 lecture and while leaving through the double doors of the university hall, quite literally ran into yoongi and dropped all of his carefully balanced textbooks right on top of him. and then somehow tripped. landing right on top of yoongi. upon making eye contact with him, namjoon blurted “i think you know my boyfriend”, and suddenly jin-hyung’s rambles about a cute tall dork that is too clumsy for his own good made sense. but yoongi loved joon to death, not that he’d ever admit it aloud).

sighing quietly, he moves a few tracks around in his mixtape folder, titled “a messtape”. knowing that all of the songs need to be polished and that yoongi is never truly going to be entirely satisfied with any of the music he produces, he tries to distract himself with a sip of coffee. and then proceeds to burn his tongue on the hot liquid, glaring at the beverage before noticing something else scrawled beneath his name on the cup.

i’m sorry i was rude. hopefully the coffee makes up for it :)

the corners of yoongi’s lips quirk up and he peeks up at jeongguk, finding him staring back. jeongguk grins shyly, and winks when yoongi doesn’t break eye contact. yoongi forgets how to breathe.

-

yoongi tells himself he won’t go back to the coffee shop. he really does. public places never usually help him focus on anything, and quiet chatter coming from people around him does more harm than good. yet he finds himself going back everyday, burning a hole through his wallet with $3 coffees that have cute pick up lines written on the side.

yoongi tells himself he comes back because the coffee is really good, the espresso being the perfect balance between bitter and sour, and not because of the cute barista that writes cheesy jokes and winks at him every time they make eye contact.

yoongi tells himself that jeongguk’s friendly banter doesn’t make his day five times better, because not only is jeongguk a pretty face but he’s also unfairly talented and funny, and tells himself that he doesn’t want to hold hands with jeongguk and cuddle and kiss him on the lips all the time.

yoongi also tells himself that the coffee doesn’t taste sweeter after he reads the notes on the side of his cup (it does). because min yoongi is not developing a crush on his barista (he is).

-

“yoon-ah,” jin randomly starts, chopping scallions in yoongi’s kitchen because quote, you don’t ever take care of yourself even though you’re literally 24 and no matter how much you say it i know you don’t actually want to die, so if breaking into your apartment and making you tteokbokki all the time is what keeps you alive, i’m going to do it, end quote. yoongi appreciates jin a lot. “i’m starting to worry about you.”

yoongi looks up from his laptop, sipping his (probably) 4th espresso loaded coffee of the day, eyes twitching. this cup has “i think i’ve caught ‘coffeels’ for you” scribbled onto the plastic in red ink.

“why’s that hyung?”

“i know you’re addicted to caffeine and all, but i think you’ve been overdoing it these past couple of weeks,” jin stares pointedly at the coffee in yoongi’s hand. “don’t get me wrong, i’m glad you’re getting out of your apartment, but are you sure that coffee place isn’t fuelling an unhealthy obsession?”

“i think he’s been there once every day this week,” namjoon helpfully chimes in, bookmarking his page in the singularity is near, and walking over to jin to give him a back hug. “no, scratch that, i think he went twice on monday.”

“i think that’s perfectly healthy,” yoongi replies, unconfidently.

jin raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment further.

-

(it’s around this time yoongi finally admits to himself that the coffee at the cafe is honestly decent at best, and that he definitely doesn’t return day after day for it.

also he realizes that he should probably stop asking for so many shots of espresso in each cup, because he really isn’t a jittery person so why can he suddenly not stop bouncing his knee up and down. it’s annoying. hoseok likes to compare him to a jackhammer.

it’s also around this time yoongi realizes he has a crush on jeongguk.  he realizes it when jeongguk smiles and yoongi’s heart does an entire gymnastics routine.

he realizes it in the coffee shop when his heart beats about three times faster, not caused by the mass amount of espresso he now consumes. it’s because jeongguk somehow found his way into yoongi’s heart, entering in from the aorta and stealing all of the oxygen in yoongi’s bloodstream away. especially when yoongi looks up at him from his usual seat at the cafe and finds the boy unknowingly humming to himself, or sketching quickly on a napkin. when yoongi stares at jeongguk taking orders and memorizes all of his little quirks, sitting at his table with a fond expression plastered on his face. like how he tilts his head slightly when he’s thinking about something. or how he pokes his tongue into the side of his cheek when a customer is being rude. or how he bites his nails when he’s nervous.

he realizes it everytime he steals a glance at jeongguk.

it’s around this time that yoongi realizes he needs to confess, because if he doesn’t, all of the adoration he feels for jeongguk might accumulate so much he’ll explode).

-

yoongi’s ball of nerves feed the frenzy of butterflies dwelling in his stomach. the familiar jingling above the door do nothing to quell the tingly feeling, and yoongi beelines for jeongguk once he sees him working behind the counter. yoongi then curses at the gods because how the hell can someone look so good in literally a black apron and a white dress shirt.

cue flashbacks to yoongi’s previous internal dilemma that ended with an argument with himself stating “he writes cute pick up lines on your coffee cups every time you order, he obviously likes you”, versus “but like what if he just does that so i buy more coffee”.

“hey hyung!” jeongguk’s eyes crinkle in happiness when he sees yoongi. yoongi’s heart beats faster. “same as usual?”

“yeah, thank you guk,” yoongi says, smiling, all gums, at jeongguk because how can he not. “i actually have something to ask you.”

“what is it hyung?” jeongguk looks up and his face holds so much concern it’s overwhelming. then, his face morphs into something of humor. “if you’re going to ask me something dumb like you did last week with, what was it again? oh right, i fed holly a grape and now i’m scared he might die, do you know what to do?”

“you know holly’s my actual baby,” yoongi rolls his eyes, nerves calming a little as jeongguk’s small talk relaxes him. “but no, it’s kind of important. and i’ve been thinking about it for a while.”

jeongguk’s hands falter slightly as he’s packing coffee grounds. he raises an eyebrow as a nonverbal go on.

“so, uh,” yoongi starts strong, the butterflies back and in full force. he didn’t expect this to be so hard. “would you, maybe, want to go out with me sometime?”

jeongguk’s eyebrows raise, almost comically if in different circumstances, and he nearly drops the measuring cup he’s holding. yoongi swallows thickly, and his hand subconsciously goes to scratch the back of his neck.

“with you?” jeongguk asks in disbelief, and yoongi interprets jeongguk’s facial expression as complete and utter disgust, and winces. yoongi looks down at the stone tiles. “of c-”

yoongi finishes that sentence in his head with “-ourse not”, and he dashes out of the cafe doors, face burning and heart sinking, espresso long forgotten.

-

yoongi doesn’t go to the coffee shop for a while.

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a/n: hello lovelies! i hope you enjoyed the fic so far, i wrote it mainly for self indulgence bc im a slut for yoonkook (oops) and also bc i had a random spurt of “oh wow i haven’t written for fun in years lets try writing fluff”.

-tea 🍵

©bobabangtean

[talesmaniac89]

Fatherhood

Summary: Dad!Crowley & Daughter!Reader - Crowley comes home to find his daughter playing hide and seek.

Word Count: 1877

Triggers: None, just father/daughter fluff

Y/N = Your name ¦ Y/E/C = Your eye colour ¦ Y/H/C = Your hair colour

Note: So, as promised, a little fluff after yesterday’s angst in Phone Call. This was fun to write so might do more little one shots featuring this duo!

—

Crowley had been called a lot of things through his well over 300 years alive, or well… Somewhat alive. Demon, sure constantly. Bastard, pretty much his middle name. Vindictive, who wasn’t? Son of a bitch, well, they’d clearly met his mother. King of Hell, soulless, heartless, crazy… Hell the list went on and on… But father, that was not a title he’d ever thought he’d hold again.

Fatherhood never suited Crowley. Therapists would likely say it was his own issues with his wench of a mother, or possibly his lack of a father figure or some similar obnoxious bullshit. He himself however just believed there wasn’t room for children in his existence, more now than back then. Emotions were chains and children were an extra weight on those chains made to slow you down on your rise to greatness. And he wanted to be great. Roman emperor level great, except of course without the backstabbing, iron poisoning and inevitable loss of power.

Plus, as all the stupid souvenir t-shirts said… He’d been there, done that, and completely screwed up his first child. His philosophy was simple, really. Child-rearing wasn’t one of those get back up on that horse kind of moments. If you failed the first time around you shouldn’t try again.

So, when Juliet, his favourite trusted hellhound, brought a crying infant back with her after reaping the ripe soul of a dealtaker, Crowley was clearly… Well, in a bind was putting it mildly. The hellhound was somewhat smitten with the baby girl. Taking a protective stance in front of the child if anyone but Crowley tried to come near and curling up around her to calm her hiccuping sobs.

Having just had pups Juliet was still a bit… Motherly. Which was probably why she brought the baby with her. The child had been the only family of the latest soul added to his collection. So, with her motherly instincts, and having just claimed the soul of the baby’s single mother, Juliet had probably been unable to help herself. Honestly, considering the woman had squandered her deal and sold her soul on a wish to be in a very specific TV show, which didn’t really pan out for her career wise… She clearly didn’t have the knack for planning ahead, and from what Crowley knew, which was a lot more than he often let on, she had been a horrible mother.

Still, bringing the child back to hell… It was more than he’d expected from his hellhound, but as always, she constantly surprised him.

And so, Crowley had been faced with a dilemma. It wasn’t just a pup. It was a baby, a human baby. A living, breathing, innocent child that really didn’t belong in hell, not even in his more… Luxurious private slice of it. Yet, he didn’t want to leave the kid with the Winchesters. They weren’t really the poster boys for a healthy upbringing and he doubted they could provide the kid with the apple pie life of a perfect made for TV family.

Sure, he could leave her at some stranger’s door in a some strange version of ding dong ditch… But he’d been there himself, the traded for three pigs type of been there. And though that might have been back in the 17th century in rural Scotland he knew for a fact, seeing some of the poor sods that walked past his not-so-pearly-gates, that the “modern” foster care system wasn’t all daisies and teddy bears either.

Crowley was evil, sure, and cruel, definitely, but he wasn’t a monster. At least not past the tiny little fact that he was a literal demon. So he had taken it upon himself to raise the child. After all Juliet had seemed like she would rip the head off anyone who tried to take her new human shaped pup away from her. And Crowley very much preferred his head where it was.

It was like something out of a rejected sit-com script. Crowley, King of Hell, leader of the crossroads demons, and now a single father. And that, that was how hell got its princess, a full five years ago, though only those closest to the king knew of her existence.

—

“I’m home,” The words that over the last few years had been coming easier each time he spoke them now rolled off Crowley’s tongue as if they were the most natural words in the world. As if hell had somehow, after hundreds of years, actually become his home due to the little girl who waited for him there whenever he was out on business. Loosening his tie he raised his eyebrows in slight confusion when he didn’t hear the distinct sound of tiny feet rushing to greet him.

“(Y/N) where are you hiding now you little chipmunk?” Crowley fully lost his patented king of hell tone as he looked around the hallway, knowing the little princess couldn’t be far away. A warmer smile than he ever offered to anyone else easily lighting up his face and deepening the smile lines around his eyes to make the man truly look like the father he was trying to be for the small child that had turned his life upside down.

“Hmmm… I know she’s hiding somewhere,” He said to the room, pretending he wasn’t able to sense her presence behind the decorative curtains further down the long hallway. The small childish giggle he was rewarded with better than any amount of riches he could possibly wish to get.

Walking toward her he made a show of looking under tables and behind pictures on the wall and teasing more poorly suppressed high pitched laughs out of the apple of his eye. Adding a few small surprised noises and confused head scratches to the mix for comedic relief he slowly made his way over to where his little girl was hiding. The bulge in the curtain larger than her little shape should have been, which meant she’d once more dragged Juliet along with her. The hellhound was practically her domesticated house pup by now and seemed to have taken well to the role as nanny.

“I wonder, could the little chipmunk be hiding behind the curtains?” He asked the empty hallway in front of him when he was only a few steps away from where the five-year-old was doing her very best to stand completely still. Which, for a five year old was the equivalent of rocket science.

“Nooo,” The laughed denial only making Crowley beam brighter at his little ninja before playing along.

“Oh really? Well, then she must be in the other room,” The King of Hell pretended to take a few steps forward and did a quick turn back towards the curtains with a shocked gasp as (Y/N) gleefully laughed at his little performance. She was the only audience a father would ever need. Even if the Winchesters didn’t appreciate his little jokes, she always laughed and played along.

“Wait a minute,” Crowley said as he tip-toed over towards the expensive velvet curtains. “I’m pretty sure curtains can’t talk,”

“This one can! It’s Mr. Curtain!” The small darling voice of his little girl was shaking with laughter and as he looked at the movements in the curtain it was easy to tell the whole girl was shaking right along with it.

“Really now, well Mr. Curtain, but… What’s this lump here then?” He reached out of the curtain with a curious gesture and his princess squealed in her hiding place. “It kind of looks like it’s (Y/N) shaped. You didn’t eat my little girl did you Mr. Curtain?”

“Noooo, I jus’ had ice cream,” The small voice giggled as Crowley placed his hands on the curtain, pretending to measure up the part of the curtain where she was hiding.

“Ice cream before dinner?That doesn’t sound like something Mr. Curtain would do. No, you know what I think?” Crowley let his hand reach for the side of the curtain with a warm smile as he crouched to be at the same height as his baby girl.

“What?” (Y/N)’s voice had that cute little lilt it always got when she was truly curious. And she was always curious… Ah, the struggles of raising small children.

“I think this little lump is actually my princess!” Crowley said with a laugh as he pulled back the curtain to reveal his adopted daughter. Her surprised squeal automatically brightening the room and Crowley’s day as he caught her up in a big hug whilst Juliet nudged at them both with her snout. A bit jealous of the interaction as she felt as if she was just as big a part of the tiny little family as the two other members and just as entitled to a hug or at least an ear scratch.

“Daddy!” (Y/N) squealed as her little arms went around his neck to hug him back as hard as she could. Which honestly wasn’t very hard at all, but she always put all the strength in her little body into it.

“What have you been up to today pet?” Crowley said, standing up and lifting his princess with him as he focused on her brilliant (Y/E/C) eyes and her slightly messy (Y/H/C) hair from her time behind the velvet curtain.

“Walkies with ‘Ette!” She said, arms still around his neck as she looked down at the hellhound which he had yet to understand if she could see or not. Children all had a bit of magic in them, so it wouldn’t surprise him if she could. “Then Mr. Curtain ate us,”

“Really, did he gobble you up on your walkies?” Crowley asked with over-acted shock as he shifted the little girl so she was against his side like a little monkey. Teasing out another little laugh with a small tickle before carrying her easily towards the living room to ensure she got her dinner and possibly rewatch Moana, or whichever Disney movie she was obsessed with at the moment.

“Yes! You saved me from Mr. Curtain daddy!” Her big bright eyes widened as she nodded profusely, happy that her father was playing along with her little story.

“Did I? So is daddy your hero then?” Crowley said, his heart swelling like it always did when he held his world in his arms. Because shortly after Juliet had brought the little ray of sunshine into his life that was exactly what she’d become. His world.

“Yes! My daddy is the bestest hero!” Her little smile beamed up at him with so much love and admiration is nearly made the demon’s no longer beating heart burst. Her little hands holding onto each other as she gave him another big hug whilst he opened the door to the colorful and warm living room where he was just a father, and never the King of Hell.

To think he could love someone so much. With his little princess, his darling (Y/N), around everything was always fine. No matter what the world threw his way during the day.

It didn’t matter to him if the whole world saw him as a villain. Because to his little girl, Crowley was a hero.

Please do let me know if you wish to be removed from the tag list

Tags:  @auszimbo @upon-a-girl @gallifreyansass @mogaruke @skybinx-blog  @delisp @jensen-jarpad @supernatural-jackles @deathtonormalcy56 @27bmm @wildfirewinchester @just-another-busy-fangirl

Also tagging a few Crowley fans I know ‘cause I’m shameless that way: @roxy-davenport @crowley-you-sinnamon-roll @scheherazades-horcrux, @ajacentlee, @chelsea072498 @annabellerosemasters @alangel1895