#RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY GOTH FACE BEAT….

[puckpocketed]

get out of our lobster’s tank <3 right now <3

[sigilslvt]

HOW DEEP • SUGURU GETO

☣︎ Summary: It’s rush week at your college and your boyfriend chooses to put his prospective fraternity above your relationship. When you find out, you’re left devastated and, well… in need of a SERIOUS cover-up considering you’d gotten his name tattooed on your ass just two months ago. Good thing famed tattooist, Suguru Geto, has a shop by campus.

Pairing: Tattoist Geto Suguru x Fem Reader

Tags: modern au, pierced geto, tattooed geto, smut, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v, cam sex, squirting, creampie, marking

WC: 7.6k

Art: yoroz_roz on Twitter!

A/N: This was a lot longer than I intended, you’re welcome!

Rush week. You’d prepared yourself for this week to be stressful given the fact that you’re in a new state, far away from your family and friends for the first time in your life. You had decided to commit to the same university as your long-time boyfriend, Ryōmen, and so far, you guys have kept to yourselves and relished in the lack of parental hovering. The problem is, since rush week started, Ryōmen’s been busy with all things fraternity related and you’ve been stuck trying to figure out college life on your own.

Normally being away from him wouldn’t be so bad, it was always as simple as hanging out with friends from home or just cruising around your home state, but you’ve got no friends here and no idea where to go to keep busy. Hence the dilemma at hand and the reason you’re in sweats and a sweater sitting cross legged on your bed in your dorm on a Friday night, of all nights. Your music plays loudly in your headphones, a soft vibration playing against your skull every time the bass thumps just right, your body idly bouncing with the beat. You don’t even notice a voice sounding out until you feel a firm nudge against your shoulder, which makes you look to your side in surprise to see your roommate, Yuki, sitting next to you and waving to get your attention. Your fingers find the pause button on your phone and you slide your headphones down to wrap around your neck.

“Damn, girl, I was beginning to think you were in some sort of trance while praising the devil, jeez. What kind of music is that, anyways!?” She asks, her brows knitting together in both confusion and amusement as she looks at the song cover on your phone, shaking her head.

“S-sorry, sometimes I just need to drown the world out, y’know?” You sheepishly respond, chuckling and flipping your phone around, a bit insecure. Normally, you wouldn’t be so nervous— back home, you had your clique and your tastes aligned perfectly. There was never a worry about being an outsider when in a group of a bunch of goth-grunge addicted teens. But, this was different. You’re in California, now, and there’s nothing but sun, bright colors, preppy girls all around you. You were the odd one out, now.

“Girl!” Yuki snaps in front of your face, making you realize you’d drifted off in thought while she was talking to you.

“Sorry, sorry! What were you saying?” You ask, shaking yourself out of it and rolling your shoulders back, showing her you’re actively listening to whatever it is that she’s trying to say.

“I was saying that you CLEARLY need to get out and what kind of roomie would I be if I didn’t help you get what you need, hm? Get up. There’s a party at Phi Gamma tonight and you, my sweet shut-in, will be coming. No questions asked.” She tells you, already standing and grabbing your hand, dragging you to your closet and planting you there while she opens it.

One thing you’ve learned since getting here and meeting Yuki? Arguing with her is futile. If she doesn’t convince you to do something she thinks is for your own good the first go around, you bet your ass she’s gonna take you by the neck and make you do it. It’s sort of endearing, because you know she means well, it’s just not the type of personality you’re used to.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve go— oh? You’ve been holding out on me, I see! What’s with the constant sweats and sweaters when you’ve got style like this!?” She asks after opening your closet, her eyes wide as she sees the amount of clothes, most being pre-made outfits, you have in there. You’re grateful she doesn’t mention the amount of black in your wardrobe that’s only separated by bits of white and grey. “Here, this should be great, go shower and get ready. We leave in forty-five!” You feel the outfit being shoved against your chest before you even see it, making you chuckle at her eagerness before you head to the bathroom.

Thirty minutes later and you’ve showered, done your hair, and perfected your makeup. You’re wearing a black and grey striped sweater that stops mid-rib, dark denim shorts with torn fishnets beneath them, and Gaya 10-Eye Alt Doc Martens— your favorites. You layered some chains, a choker, and a long belt atop your outfit to top it off and switch your two nose studs and septum piercing to silver jewelry to complement the outfit. You do the same with your earrings, nearly forgetting to. Your makeup is dark and sultry, as per usual, a black lip paired with black eyeshadow and liner save for a pop of dark purple in the center of your lids and your under eye. Your hair is down, a black bandana keeping it back save for two strands of hair you keep out in front of your face.

You make your way out of the bathroom and Yuki turns to you, her mouth falling open at the sight of you. “What… the… fuck? Ok I see why your boyfie kept you cooped up here for two weeks after move-in. You’re hot, bitch! And these tattoos? They fuck. Hard.” She compliments you, making you chuckle. She gets closer to trace the cybersigilism tattoo that dawns your neck and collarbones, all the way down to the start of your cleavage. You raise your brow, a bit awkward given how comfortable she is, which she seems to realize, prompting her to step away. “Sorry! I’ve just never seen tats like that before! The ones on your legs are insane, I’d never cover up if I were you.” She shakes her head.

You shake your head and chuckle, but it does prompt a nagging voice in the back of your head asking you why exactly it is that you’ve been covering up head to toe. Was it because you’re scared of being an outcast? Is the weather too hot? No, that’s not it. You think back to a conversation you had with Ryō about being more tame while you were sat on your bed in your dorm. Something about not wanting to seem like the average college e-girl who gets around freshman year. You frown at the memory and shrug at Yuki. “Just haven’t had a reason to get dressed up yet.” You reason, making her shake her head, eyes still wide as she looks you over.

She stops ogling you to finish her own makeup, popping some lip gloss on before clapping once, turning to you. “‘Kay, let’s go!”

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The walk to Phi Gamma isn’t bad in the least and you’re grateful for the California heat persisting through the night. If you were back in Washington, you’d have icicles dripping down your nose right now given it’s ten at night in the beginning of October.

You walk into the frat house with Yuki and you’re immediately suffocated with the smell of hookah smoke, ear-ruining loud music, and so many people. Too many to fit in the house, that’s for sure, but that’s never mattered when it came to parties.

“C’mon, let’s get you loosened up, first!” Yuki screams close to your ear so you hear her over the music, taking your hand to lead you to the kitchen. She pours you a cup of something dark before grabbing a coke and moving to pour that as well, but you hold your hand up to stop her.

“‘M okay, I don’t like mixers or chasers.” You tell her, making her raise her brows and hold her arms up as if to tell you to suit yourself, making you smile widely. You both down your drinks at the same time and she pours another with you both downing them again. With that, she leans close to your ear, speaking loudly enough for you to hear over the music.

“I’m gonna go see if I can find some weed, you smoke?” She asks and you shake your head.

“Not weed.” You respond, reaching in your pocket to show her your pack of Marlboros, scrunching your own face up in disgust and shame. You’re slowly quitting, though, so you give yourself props for that.

She shrugs and heads off, leaving you to yourself. You look around, trying to find a good spot to hang out in before you head to it only to be stopped by a soft pair of hands. “Hey! You’re in my Neurophilosophy class!” You hear the girl say, making you shrug with a nod. “I didn’t think I’d see you here! Didn’t seem like the type to like frat parties! I’m Utahime.” She shouts, clearly a little tipsy judging by the red tint of her cheeks.

You offer her a kind smile and your name before you start heading toward the spot you’d sought out, but she catches your hand and stops you. “Wait! Wanna dance? It’s just that… you’re the only one here I know besides my dumbass friend who’s probably off somewhere bragging about being ‘The Honored One’ because he caught the Phi Gamma chicken for initiation. Apparently that warrants a parade in his name or something.” She says, rolling her eyes at said friend’s antics. When you raise your brow in confusion, she chuckles. “Every year during rush week, Phi Gamma lets out this cursed looking demon chicken from Hell for their pledges to catch. They say it never gets caught before making it back to its coop, but leave it to him to do it. First time in seven years. It’s silly, really.” She explains, waving the conversation away. “So, will you?”

You don’t know if it’s the alcohol, you pitying her situation, or just the fact that you’re happy to meet someone else who actively wants to hang out, but you find yourself saying yes and following her into the crowd of unbelievably sweaty frat boys and sorority girls doused in pink. Literally. Body paint everywhere. You’re sure to avoid stains as you dance with Utahime, chucking as she does the robot to get you to crack a smile. As time passes, you find yourself dancing so close to her that you’re sure you’ll merge into one being soon.

You let a bit more time pass before you decide on another drink, leaning forward to shout in her ear so she hears you. “I’m gonna get another drink, want one?” You ask, earning a head shake from her. Shrugging, you push through the crowd and find yourself in the kitchen again, pouring yourself another red solo cup full of alcohol. You sip on it, smiling to yourself because even though you miss Ryo, you’re still having a better time than you thought you would. That’s when you hear it.

“Bro, have you seen this shit!? No fuckin’ way did Zeta Nu initiate their pledges like this!” A guy shouts to his friend, your ears tuning into the sound of your beloved boyfriend’s frat name. You turn to see him showing his friend a video on his phone and you smile to yourself, happy the initiation is over and looking forward to being told whatever silly thing they had Ryo do.

“I fuckin’ WISH Phi Gamma would make us bang some sorority thot to get in! You think it was to count out whoever came first? Damn, look at bro with the pink hair going in like his life depends on this shit!” You hear the other voice speak up and your heart drops. A knot forms in your stomach and your hand gets clammy around your cup. Of course your mind is going toward the worst case scenario and before you can even think, your feet have carried you to the two guys, your other hand reaching for the phone the first one is holding.

“Lemme see this.” You say, the douche saying something about adding your number while you’re at it, but it’s drowned out into the background noise because you’re zoned in on one thing. Your boyfriend banging a sorority girl and smiling at the camera while flexing his fucking bicep. Flexing. He’s fucking living for this.

You feel bile creeping up your throat and you shove the phone against the guy’s chest, making your way to the door. The second you get outside, you hunch over and puke in the bushes, sobering up by the second. Your hand grasps at your chest and you feel it hammering so hard as though it’s trying to escape. Your other fishes your phone out of your pocket and you flinch seeing Ryōmen has texted you.

Him: I love you <3

You fight the urge to throw up again, your fingers typing back quickly.

You: I love you so much, Ryo. Miss you and wanna see you. May have drank a bit too much, hehe :3 Can I come see you?

You hit send, not even bothering to wait for an answer before you push yourself to head to his dorm, ready to use the excuse that you’re drunk and wanted to see him when you show up. Your phone pings and you open it faster than you thought humanly possible to see another text from him.

Him: Come to me, baby.

Before you know it, you’re at his door, knocking rather hard, if you were being honest, but you don’t care. Not seconds later, he opens it and pulls you into him, immediately moving to kiss your neck, which makes you want to shed your skin. When he doesn’t feel you reciprocate, he pulls away and frowns, eyes searching yours. “What’s the matter, hm?” He asks, head wobbling as the smell of alcohol hits your face. He’s drunk.

You walk into his room with an annoyed sigh, closing the door behind you and pacing for a moment before stopping in front of him. “Ryōm–”

“Y’look so hot, baby. Why were you out drinking looking this hot without me?” He asks with a frown, making you scoff unexpectedly.

“You really don’t wanna bark up that tree right now, Ryo. I need t–” You start, but he interrupts you again.

“And why d’you keep using my name?” He asks.

“Jesus fuck, Ryo. Let me talk!” You shout, your hands flailing for a second. He nods, mocking you with a stupid look on his face silently, making you seethe. “Tell me it isn’t true.” You say, earning a confused look from him. “Tell me you didn’t fuck some random girl to get into a fucking FRATERNITY, Ryo. Tell me you’re not that fucking insane.Tell me you didn’t just throw away YEARS with me after I came all this way to be with you.” You say, your voice firm. You surprise yourself with the fact that no tears have formed in your eyes just yet, the anger far more overwhelming than sadness.

His look of confusion turns to pure shock and it’s like a cold pitcher of water has just been flung in his face. “Who told y– babe. Babe, it was just a stupid fucking initiation thing, it’s not like I actually cheated. You’re my girlfriend, you should be happy, I’m in! I made it because I did what it took and that shows drive. Why the fuck are you even upset right now?” He asks and you have to do a double take to confirm what you thought you saw in his face. He’s genuinely pissed and confused that you’re upset right now.

That does it for you. “Are you saying… you didn’t cheat… because it was for an initiation? You want me to be HAPPY that you stuck your dick in someone that isn’t me? Fuck you, Ryōmen. I don’t know you at all. The boy I fell in love with would have been a man and turned the stupid fucking initiation down. This frat? Would have only mattered while here. Us? We were supposed to be together until death. Fuck you for choosing something so stupidly temporary. We’re done.” You spit out, rage bubbling in your core like you’re made from it. He grabs your wrist as you make your way out of his room, but you tear it away, every part of you in utter disbelief that you ever let a man like him touch you at all.

You make your way outside, your phone pinging again and again, no doubt messages from him trying to gaslight you into believing he did what he had to do for his future. You ignore them, sucking in the fresh air like your life depends on it and taking in your surroundings, still hoping in the back of your mind that they’ll all melt away and you’ll wake up from this nightmare. You, someone who’s always been mindful of your future and who has always taken care to do what’s best for you, are now in a new state so far from everyone you love all alone because of a boy. A fucking boy.

You take off the promise ring he gave you for your five year anniversary and toss it as far as you can, hating the idea of having a symbol of what you thought was true love with him on your body… and then you roll your eyes as you facepalm. Your fucking tattoo. Against the advice of literally everyone you know, you’d gotten a tattoo of his name on the top of your ass. “Fuck me…” You mutter to yourself, immediately googling a tattoo studio near you.

“Cursed Ink Studios…” You read the top result out loud, seeing it’s only a thirteen minute walk from here. With an annoyed shrug, you start making your way there, silently cursing yourself for assuming it’d stay warm all night. The cold nips at your practically exposed thighs and your nose turns its familiar shade of red quickly. You pick up the pace, hoping to find warmth in the studio.

A cigarette and a half later, you find yourself in front of the studio, snubbing out the last half of your cigarette and flicking it into the trash can. The bell above the door chimes as you make your way in and you’re greeted by a brunette woman who looks… worn down, to say the least. No doubt from the loads of drunken college students who’ve wandered in here tonight.

“Welcome to Cursed Ink Studios, my name’s Shoko. How can we help you tonight, babe?” She asks, leaning forward on the reception desk. You appreciate the fact that she doesn’t comment on the fact that you’ve thoroughly been done in by the cold wind that’s whipped your hair in every direction and kissed your nose until it’s red.

You shift on your feet, scratching your head. “I, uhh… I need a cover-up done.” You say, making her sigh as though she feels sorry for you.

“I’m sorry, babe, but cover-ups need an appointment ahead of time.” She says, earning a face palm from you. You nod and turn to head out, but a voice stops you.

“Wait. It’s fine, Shoko. I have time.” A smooth, deep voice sounds out from deeper within the studio and you turn toward it to see quite possibly the hottest man you’ve ever laid eyes on. His skin is like cream, hair half tied up letting the rest fall down his back and shoulders, his eyebrow is adorned with a piercing, and gauges are sported on his ear lobes. He’s wearing a black tank top that hangs loose on him, his arms both covered in tattoos, the most notable one being a large dragon on his right arm. He’s carrying keys, which lets you know he was likely about to head home and you feel guilt pooling in your stomach.

You can’t help but clam up at the sight of him and you gulp before shaking your head. “N-No, it’s okay, really, it’s late and I should have known I’d need an appointment. Y-You probably wanna get home, seriously, it’s okay.” You say, trying desperately to keep your voice steady. He chuckles, eyes closing as he shakes his head and you look to Shoko, who gives him a knowing look, rolling her eyes.

“Nah, you’re good. What’re you needing covered up, angel?” He asks you, making your heart flutter. You don’t know if it’s the alcohol in your system making you so flustered, but it’s a welcome feeling compared to the anger you feel when thinking of Ryōmen. Which reminds you…

“So, and I’m prepared for all the judgment you’re probably gonna throw my way, I got my boyf— EX boyfriend’s name tattooed on my ass cheek a couple months back. Turns out he’s a cheating dickhead, so I need to get it covered up. Preferably with something similar to my current tattoos. Maybe… uhh… maybe a—“ He chuckles and interrupts you.

“I got you. And I’ll spare the criticism of your choice to tattoo his name. Just fill out the forms with Shoko and I’ll go get set up in my room. I’ll sketch something out, too. Cybersigilism, huh?” He asks, smirking as he nods at you while walking backward to give you a once over before he heads to his station.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

After filling out the forms, you slowly walk to the room you saw the man head to and you find him working on an iPad, drawing. “You can sit down, angel, I’m just finishing up.” He says, gesturing to his tattoo bed. You take the opportunity to look around his room, gawking at all of the drawings and photos of tattoos he has splayed on his walls. The decor matches your tastes, goth-grunge styling everywhere. It looks like he specializes in cybersigilism and neo tribal tattoos, which helps to reinforce your confidence in him.

“Geto Suguru, by the way.” He says, suddenly towering above you. You hadn’t even noticed he stood up and looking up at him from this angle makes your heart race. You tell him your name and his face takes on a look that you can only assume is curiousness, but he quickly changes his expression to a smirk. “So, here’s what I’ve got. Noticed the hearts you’ve got around your knees and the eyes you’ve got on your neck, so I decided I’d go with a sword. Figured it’d be fitting.” He chuckles as he shows you the iPad, which manages to draw a quick laugh from you.

“Fitting is exactly the word I’d use. I love it. Let’s do it.” You say, genuinely surprised he could even come up with something so quickly.

“Alright, I’m just gonna need you to take those shorts and fishnets off, angel. You can leave your underwear on, I’ll just keep them out of the way with some paper towels. Stay standing after so I can put the stencil on, ‘kay?” He asks. You know it’s what he needs you to do in order to do the tattoo, but your face heats up at the thought of being half naked with him. He closes the door to his room and turns away to prepare the stencil, leaving you to do as asked.

Slowly and tentatively, you take off your shoes and then undo your shorts, pulling them down and stepping out of them carefully. Next is your fishnets, you’re careful not to rip them when you take them off and lay them on top of your shorts. You’re thankful you wore a thong tonight, knowing it won’t get in the way of the tattooing.

He turns around, eyeing you as though just trying to see where he needs to put the stencil, but you can see something else in his eye. Maybe he pities you? You sure fucking hope not.

“Alright, ‘m gonna place the stencil and then I’ll need you to just stand for a bit while it dries.” He says and you nod. He’s methodical in stepping forward, disinfecting, shaving the area, and then placing the stencil on you, being sure to perfect the alignment so the sword covers Ryōmen’s name entirely. His long fingers press down for just a second before he removes the paper and steps back to see the alignment from afar. “Fuckin’ perfect.” He hisses under his breath, but you hear. You tell yourself he’s just proud of his work and try not to acknowledge the pooling between your thighs. “How’s it look, angel? Don’t be afraid to let me know if you want anything changed.” He tells you.

You move to step in front of the mirror, turning to your side so you can see your ass better. It plumps up as you flex and you nod at the placement before looking up to see him with his eyes shut and his head up at the ceiling. “Y’know, you really don’t have to do this if you’re tired, I can make an appointment.” You say, feeling bad.

“Trust me, I’m very much awake. Made me question if I was dreaming when you walked in, angel, but I’m awake.” He says, your eyes going wide and your mouth falling open, but just as casually as he said that, he moves on. “Alright, ‘m gonna have you lay on your side facing away from me. Just poke your,” he grunts “poke your ass out toward me and I’ll get started.”

You do as told, your body hot and exposed and your mind reeling from how casually he’d just said that. Surely it must be for tips, you can’t imagine he’d want you. Not just because he’s built like a God, but he must be taken, right? There’s no way on Earth someone like him could be single.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod, breaking from your thoughts. With your confirmation, he smirks and leans forward, beginning to tattoo you. Him being so close to your ass makes you want to tense up, but you steel yourself and rip your eyes away from him so you can attempt to stop the wetness pooling between your folds like a bitch in heat.

“So. ‘M guessing this was recent, hm? The whole cheating thing. Not trying to pry, just curious. We don’t have to talk about it.” He says as he focuses on the tattoo, dipping the needle into the black ink he’d set up.

“Mhm. Couple of hours ago. Ran a train on a sorority girl as some fucking frat initiation. Piece of shit.” You spit, hearing him scoff and looking to see him shake his head.

“Ouch. Yeah, he’s a fucking idiot, to say the least.” He responds and you bite your lower lip, blushing and looking forward again, at the mirror.

“I’m the idiot. I moved from Washington all the way here with him so we could go to the same college and I had no idea he was capable of this. Now I’m away from family and friends and just… stuck here.” You roll your eyes, huffing.

“We can be friends. I mean, it’s contingent on you coming around more often, though. Think you can do that, angel?” He says, an undertone you can’t quite discern in his voice that makes your mouth go dry.

“Y-yeah. I mean, I plan to get more tattoos. If you do a good job, I mean.” You respond, nearly choking on your words because of that damned pet name he keeps calling you.

“Mmm, trust me, I’ll do you right.” He says and this time the undertone in his voice is so painfully clear that you feel yourself clenching around nothing, your eyes fluttering closed for just a moment. You decide not to respond, scared your voice will come out shakier than intended.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The next few hours go by in the same fashion. Small talk with him lacing in subtle compliments or flirtations. That goddamned pet name falling from his perfect lips. By the end, you were sure he’d feel the way your body was pulsing with need for him, all thoughts of Ryōmen out the fucking window.

“All done, angel. Tell me how you feel about it. If it’s good, and it looks damn good, I’ll put on some second skin and cash you out.” He says, standing up from his chair and stretching. Your eyes don’t miss his v line peeking out from his lifted shirt and you have to tear them away to instead look at your tattoo.

“Fuck, it’s perfect. God, yeah, I love it! Lemme just take a picture so I can post it and piss this asshole off before you wrap it.” You say and he chuckles.

“Mind if I take a few, too?” He asks.

Before you even realize what you’re saying, you respond, “What? For your spank bank?” By the end of the question, your eyes go wide and you mentally curse yourself out, about to apologize when he gives you a genuine laugh.

“No, angel, I won’t need a picture to remember an ass like that.” He quips back and you almost lose your breath. Without missing a beat, he picks up his phone and motions for you to take your picture before he takes his.

Once you do, you open your Lightroom app as he moves to take his pictures. It opens to a nude you’d put a filter on and you suck in a sharp breath, trying to exit quickly before he notices to no avail. He whistles and sucks his teeth and you immediately start to explain. “Sorry, I just like aesthe—“ He cuts you off.

“He’s definitely missing a few brain cells. You’re as good as it fuckin’ gets, angel.” He says, making your heart clench and stomach knot. “Y’know…” He leans forward. “There’s another way you can make him upset. I’m sure that picture’ll do the job, but don’t you wanna go above and beyond? I can help with that.” He says. You don’t miss his hand coming down to rest on the apple of your ass, making your core throb.

“I— how?” You ask, surprised your voice made it’s way out at all with how dry your mouth and throat are.

“Atta girl. First, you can let me bury my face between those pretty thighs of yours so you can take a picture, if you can even hold your phone steady, that is. Then, if you can think straight enough to still be thinking about him, I’ll make sure you can only think about how good I feel inside you. Maybe I’ll even record so you can send that, too. How’s that sound, angel?” He asks, thumb gently brushing the skin of your ass, voice smooth and sultry. You’re sure that with his voice alone, he could run a cult of people who’d do his bidding with no questions asked. And you’d be in it.

You nod at his suggestion, biting your lower lip and looking up at him through your lashes. He chuckles and leans forward, face inches from yours. “I don’t speak nod, pretty girl. Y’r gonna have to tell me out loud.” He says, his hand moving from your ass to grip your chin firmly enough to keep you looking up at him.

God, that statement alone makes your stomach do flips and, yet again, you’re breathless. “Yes, please yes.” You manage to get out, squeezing your thighs to try to alleviate the pressure between them.

“Good girl, using your manners.” He purrs before his lips mash against yours, earning a choked moan from you instantly. He tastes of cigarettes and mint, a flavor you find yourself more addicted to by the second. You feel his tongue flick against yours for just a moment before he pulls away and chuckles. “Been wanting to do that since you walked in. Been wanting to taste you, more, though.” He says, so you move to lay on your back, but he stops you. “Mm mm, don’t fuck my work up. All fours, angel. All fours.” He says, the command emphasized by him patting his hand on your thigh twice.

Doing as told, you rest your stomach against the cold leather and prop your ass up for him, your hands holding onto either sides of the chair. Your embarrassment at the knowledge that your thong is most definitely soaked is washed away when you turn your head to look back at Geto, seeing a prominent bulge straining against his jeans.

His large, ring-adorned fingers splay across your ass cheeks as he squeezes them, grunting. “Such a pretty ass.” He hisses, moving one hand to thumb at where he knows your hole is beneath your thong, pressing in just slightly to tease you, making you mewl out. “Shh, sweetheart. Unless y’want everyone outside to hear you, hmm?” He warns and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth to shut yourself up.

His fingers curl around the waistband of your thongs and he slowly peels them from your sopping wet pussy, leaving them down by your knees. The cold air hits your core and your eyelids flutter closed as you try to stop yourself from shuddering. “So fuckin’ pretty. You this wet already, angel? All for me?” He asks, chuckling as he slips a finger between your folds, teasing you as he soaks his it in your syrupy slick.

“Mmph, yes… fuck…” You moan out, feeling the pad of his finger press against your clit, rubbing in small teasing circles. Your eyes open and you look back to see him palming himself over his jeans. Your brows knit together in a needy frown and you pout. “Suguru, please!” You whine, needing more from him.

“Please what, angel? Please taste you? Please fuck you? Please finger you? Gotta tell me what y’want.” He murmurs and the look on his face tells you he loves this. Loves playing with you like a toy. To your surprise, you love it, too. He smirks at you and circles your achingly empty hole when you take too long to answer. “Hmm?” He hums.

You try to push back on his fingers, hungry for more, but he withdraws them, instead sucking your slick from his fingers, his eyes rolling back into his head at the taste. “Oh fuck, w-want all of tha— hnngh!” You cry out when he plunges a thick, ringed finger into your waiting hole. He shushes you and clicks his tongue, reminding you to keep your voice down. Nodding in response, you press back into his finger.

“Greedy girl. You’re gonna regret that later.” He says, beginning to pump his finger in and out of your cunt as he bends over and kisses all over one of your ass cheeks, then moves to get on his knees behind you. You can feel his breath on your slick folds and you want desperately to feel his tongue, your clit throbbing in need of attention. As though he reads your mind, he presses one quick kiss to it, grunting as your slick coats his lips. One swipe of his pierced tongue through your folds is all he needs to know he wants more. Much more.

You’re about to beg for it, too, but you feel his finger slip from your hole, being replaced by his long tongue, the muscle curving up and down and then swirling as if he’s trying to consume all of the slick you have to offer. Your fingers tighten on the chair, the leather squeaking in response. “Oh my God, S-Suguru!” You moan out, body shuddering in pleasure.

He pulls his tongue out to spit messily on your pussy, moving to finger you again, but this time adding two fingers. “M’gonna need to get you ready for me, ‘kay pretty girl?” He murmurs against your clit, earning a drawn out moan from you. You feel him remove his fingers and he replaces his lips with a harsh smack to your pussy that feels like pure electric pleasure. “Use your words.” He orders.

“Y-Yes! Fuck, yes…” You speak up immediately, eyes rolling back when he plunges his fingers back into you. You hear him hum in approval before his lips surround your clit again, sucking it into his mouth and caressing it with his tongue. He eats you out like a man starved and the sight combined with the pleasure makes your core tighten. His moans are muffled by you pushing back against his tongue. “S-Suguru, m’gonna—“

“Mm mm, baby, take that picture first. Gotta stay on task.” He tells you after breaking away from your clit to press sloppy open mouthed kisses on your thighs. You cry out a whine while your trembling fingers find your phone, lifting it to point it toward his mirror. You make sure to catch his face buried in your cunt when you snap the picture, making him grunt at the sound of the camera shutter. “That’s it, pretty, c’mon, cum… you can do that for me, right?” He coos and you feel him quicken his fingers inside you, the noises coming from your pussy absolutely fucking dirty as he does. His tongue starts flicking against your clit and the knot in your stomach snaps, your orgasm being clawed from you by this greedy man who pulls his fingers from your twitching hole to bury his tongue in it, lapping up your release.

You’re left panting when he finishes, eyes closed to stop the room from spinning around you. You feel his hands rub from the bottoms of your thighs up to your ass and he groans. “Fuck it, fuck the tattoo, need to see that pretty face while I’m inside you.” He grunts, flipping you around roughly and pulling your thongs off the rest of the way, tossing them to the side, making you yelp.

You open your eyes to watch as his deft fingers unbutton and unzip his pants, his other hand finding your mouth, pushing between your lips. “Taste.” He tells you and you suck the slick off his fingers happily as he pulls his cock out, your eyes widening at the sight. Suguru’s long and thick. Your expression is obvious to him and he winks, pulling his fingers from your lipstick ruined lips to grab you by the chin. “You can take it, right? You’re a big girl.” He taunts you by running his length between your folds, his tip nudging your clit deliciously.

“F-Fuck I… I can take it.” You say, lying, but knowing he’ll make you take it. Thanks to your orgasm, his tip is coated in your slick and he presses it against your entrance, making you wince. His free hand grabs one of yours and he intertwines his fingers with your smaller ones, pinning your hand above your head while he kisses you hungrily, tasting of you. At the same time, his tip slowly pushes past the first ring of muscles inside of you, a shaky moan coming from your lips and flowing into his mouth.

He grunts as he invades your cunt inch by torturously thick inch until he bottoms out, your legs shaking in response. He moves to kiss your neck before bringing his lips to your ear. “That’s my fucking girl, so goddamn tight. Gonna fuck you so good angel, be good f’me, okay?” He whispers in your ear before he sucks on your earlobe, withdrawing his cock to the tip before his hips snap forward in one sharp movement, making your mouth fall open in a silent cry.

He sets an unforgiving pace, his free hand holding one of your thighs up so he gets in at a better angle, his tip bullying your sweet spot with each thrust. Good was a fucking understatement, he was making you see stars. “Please don’t stop, ohmyfuckinggodddd!” You moan out, your bodies connecting violently, plap, plap, plaps echoing through his room.

His movements are so hungry, like he’ll never get enough of you as he moans at the feeling of your cunt trying to suck his soul from him. You feel him pull his fingers from yours and he stands straight, not letting up on his thrusts. You notice your phone now in his hand and the video capture sound plays, your face reddening. You can’t stop the way your pussy flutters knowing he’s recording now and he doesn’t miss it. “Such a slutty fuckin’ pussy, fuck! You like being on camera, don’t you, angel?” He asks, and you hide your face, nodding. That earns you one harsh thrust before he stills. “Mm mm, what’d I say about nodding. Thought y’were gonna be a good girl f’me?” He asks, making you whimper.

“Fuck, y-yes I like being on camera! Please keep going, please don’t stop, please don’t fucking stop!” You beg, snaking a hand down to try and relieve the feeling between your legs by rubbing your clit, but he smacks your hand away with the one that was holding your thigh before resuming his punishing pace.

“There you go, pretty, there you fuckin’ go. God, that ex is a fuckin’ lunatic, you’re SO. FUCKIN’. TIGHT.” He praises you, the last three words being delivered with snaps of his hips that push his cock so impossibly deep inside you that you were sure he’d rupture an organ. “Loo— ngh look, pretty girl. Look at me bulging you out like this.” He instructs, his hand moving to point at the spot below your navel that juts out every time his length is fully sheathed inside you.

You look down to see and your head immediately falls back at the sight, eyes rolling back, back arching off the seat. He rewards you by moving his hand back down to your clit, using the whole of his fingers to play with it in harsh motions back and forth and back and forth. “Mmm’fuck! Sugu, gonna cum, gonna c-cum!” You warn him, no longer giving a flying fuck if anyone hears you, you were too fucked out to think about it at all.

“Right behind you, angel. Where d’you want it, hmm?” He asks, earning a look of confusion on your dazed, fucked out face. “My cum. Where. Do. You. Want it?” He asks, accentuating the words with thrusts.

“H-hah! In-Inside! Please fucking cum in me, I’m cumming!” You moan, arms flying up to grip the head of the seat as your cunt clamps down onto his cock, loud squelches sounding out as you squirt all over him, making him groan and throw your phone on his counter, not bothering to end the video.

“Fuckin’ hell, m’gonna fill you up so good, shit!” He hisses, leaning forward and propping himself up on body fists, rolling his hips into you sloppily as his orgasm hits him and he shoots cum spurt after spurt into your greedy pussy that continues to spasm and milk him for everything he’s got. You notice strands of his hair have come free of his half bun and they tickle your face as he hovers above you, sweat beading on his forehead. “Fuuuck…” He groans, pulling out after a while of being buried inside you. It leaves you feeling painfully empty.

He watches as his cum starts to spill from your swollen cunt with a smirk, moving to finger it back inside of you, making you whine. He chuckles and grabs your thongs, bringing your legs back together so he can slide them back on you, patting your pussy when he’s done. “So you have something to remember me by on your way home. Actually… you trust me?” He asks and you’re too far into your mind to say anything but yes.

Before you know it, you hear him wash his hands and put on gloves before his tattoo gun buzzes to life. “M’gonna mark you so you don’t forget how deep I get. That okay, angel?” He asks and you almost nod until you remember his earlier commands.

“Mhm…” You hum out, earning a smile from him as he bends forward between your spread legs, tattooing a thick line under your navel with the initials ‘G.S.’ Next to it. You shake your head, still too blissed out to even realize that you traded your ex boyfriend’s name for a stranger’s initials. He wipes it clean and puts second skin on it, too, before he stands straight.

“Think you can stand well enough to get dressed?” He asks and you scoff, rolling your eyes. You stand from the chair, wobbly and definitely sore, but capable enough to put your fishnets, shorts, and Doc Martens back on. He marvels at you while you do so. Once you’re done, he grabs your phone and ends the video, going to your contacts and adding his number. He hands you your phone back with a grin.

You take it and follow him when he opens his studio door, suddenly feeling all of the eyes in the shop on you. You recognize a face there, now. Utahime’s standing, mouth agape, with Shoko and some white-haired drunk guy who’s also staring at you two with his piercing blue eyes. You find yourself hiding a bit more behind Geto as you walk to the cash register.

“Ring her up for seventy-five percent off. She already paid for the rest.” He tells Shoko as he winks at you. With that, he starts to walk away, but not before he turns to you one last time. “Remember, angel. We’re friends, now.” He smirks before heading back into his room, leaving you to pay.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The next morning, you wake up hungover. You’re wearing your favorite Kuromi pajamas— a crop top and booty shorts. You walk into the bathroom, scrolling on your phone and starting to brush your teeth when you see a text to Ryōmen with three attachments. A picture of Geto eating you out, the video of him fucking you, and lastly… the new tattoo. You look at yourself in the mirror to see the line with his initials and your memory becomes clearer as you look at yourself in disbelief. “What… the fuck?”

[whiskeyghoul]

She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid X Goth!reader]

A/N: self indulgent little fic here. I have been in a writing slump for a few weeks and needed to do something just a little self indulgent. So we have this which has been on my mind for ever. I love Abby Sciuto from NCIS and thought how fun it would be to see our little nerd fall in love with the alternative lab rat of the FBI. This is not proof read or anything so it might not be the absolute best but I just wanted to put something out here again.

WC: 1737

Tags: fluff, crush, first meeting, love at first sight possibly, multiple parts, opposites attract, self indulgent fic, reader is described as female, reader is alternative

Warnings: Mention of human remains.

Read part 2 here, read part 3 here

The music coming from the lab was muffled. Even through the closed door Spencer could hear the barely legible lyrics as he got closer and closer. As he reached the door and knocked there seemed to be no answer. Certain his knocking wouldn’t be heard over the noise that he now recognized as Siouxsie and the banshees. He opened the door. As soon as the barrier between him and the music was lifted it sounded so clear. It was turned up to 11 and he wondered how anyone could even focus with music that loud.

That was until he saw you, swaying along to the music, the white coat exaggerated the movements. Swishing from side to side as you reach for a pasteur pipette while bobbing your head along to the music. You seemed absorbed in the music, focussed on your work leaning over the bench and carefully dripping a clear substance on a piece of paper while still perfectly on beat with the music. Spencer cleared his throat loudly, hoping to make himself known before he interrupted you in whatever you seemed to be doing. Though it didn’t quite reach the decibel level to alert you. “L/N” he called out your last name but once again no response. So he took a few steps closer. Once Spencer was close enough he reached out and softly tapped your shoulder. You jumped in response, whirling around in shock with the pipette in your hands raised like a weapon. Like somehow you would be able to defend yourself with the lab instrument. A yelp falling from your lips. 

“Oh my god! Can’t you knock!” You accused, eyes wide as you placed your free hand on the top of your chest, taking a deep breath. “I did. I also tried to clear my throat to not scare you.” Spencer retorted, his voice raised a little louder so you could hear him over the music. You twirled around, placing the pipette in the holder. “I’m Doctor Reid, from the BAU.” He continued loudly. You turned, holding your left hand up to shush him. Your right fishing the remote from your coat pocket. It gave Spencer some time to look you over. 

Your lab coat was about the only light thing you wore. The outfit underneath was black on black on black. A band tee with illegible writing that peeked over a corset, layered with a ripped fishnet top underneath. The abundance of necklaces of all different lengths, cascading down your neck like silver waterfalls. Ripped jeans he wasn’t quite sure were safe for the lab environment, but the skin of your thigh caught his attention. Something inside of him stirring. He fidgeted with his hands in front of his body.

“So… you were saying?” You spoke. Spencer’s eyes snapped back to your face. You looked up at him with big eyes, a small smile accompanying them. The music was turned down now giving him room to think. Though your eyes still made it difficult to really focus. “Oh, I am Doctor Reid, from the BAU.”  He answered after swallowing for a moment. “Ah! You are here for the clothing analysis, right? Penelope mentioned one of the team would come pick it up. Normally it's her or Derek, though I think Derek has complained about hearing loss.” You whirled around while rambling on, pony tail waving behind as you turned, bounding over to a table with scattered papers. Spencer followed close behind, not focussing on the words rather just the tone of your voice, a slight intrigue towards you. He didn’t even know your first name, yet somehow your mannerisms, your unconventional style, it made him want to know more. “Right.” He said, realizing he hadn’t technically answered your questions. 

Spencer looked over your shoulder as you picked up a stack of papers neatly stapled together. He thought he might be a bit too close as he could smell the subtle perfume wafting off of you. Though he also strangely enjoyed it. It was sweet but not overly so. A hint of cherry that was fitting in his eyes. The color of the fruit matching that of your lipstick. As you looked over the paper and began to talk again, “So, the substance that was on the clothes seems to be turpentine. Commonly used in oil painting. The vapors can already cause irritation to the eyes, skin, and airways if exposed to them for longer periods of time.” you rambled off the words as you read them. “There were some other things found on the clothes that coincide with the oil painting. Different pigments and paint residue.” You turned, eyes still on the paper nearly bumping into Spencer as he had been standing so close. When you looked up at him surprised he could feel a tightening in his chest. “Oops, sorry.” You apologized, a small smile on your lips.

You apologized to him while he was the one in your way. “Oh it was my fault. Shouldn’t have stood so close. Sorry.” He muttered. The words falling from his lips unceremoniously. He felt like half of his intelligence had up and left his brain as he talked to you. Not really knowing what to say at that moment. His hands fidgeted at his sides again. His left hand playing with the hem of his cardigan sleeve. He cursed himself internally for being reduced to a stumbling mess in front of you. You kept standing there though. Clearly you had turned around to go somewhere and Spencer had been in your way. Yet he was nailed in place and so, it seemed to him, were you. “Did you know they used to make oil paints with human remains?” You spoke excitedly. Like you had been waiting to tell someone, anyone, that little fact. He knew that. He knew that for a long time yet seeing you, tell him a fact with such delight, made him want to lie. “Now I do.” He answered, his smile matching yours.

“It was called mummy brown. They ground up mummies, both human and animal, and put it in the paint.” You continued. Your voice trailing off slightly after the word animal. You held up the stack of papers to him. “Everything you need is in there. If you need me to clarify something just give me a call. Or stop by whenever you want.” Spencer nods after your sentence. Taking the papers from you his hand touched yours ever so slightly. His brain short circuited for a moment before the neurons started firing accordingly again. “I eh- I don’t have your number.” he stumbled over the words.

As if you realized that in that moment you took a step aside and walked past him. Walking over to a desk and rummaging through a drawer. Spencer walked a bit closer to your desk. No longer being nailed in place by some unspeakable force. You pulled out a thin sharpie, and Spencer raised a brow ever so slightly at that. You walked back over, holding out your hand to grasp his. Spencer placed his hand in yours. His mouth felt incredibly dry for a moment. His tongue was uncomfortable in his mouth. His heartbeat raced faster. Nothing like he had ever really felt before. You could have done it on the papers, or maybe even a sticky note. Yet you decided that his hand would be the perfect place to write down your number. He thought about it for a moment, your hand was soft and warm. You twisted his hand, writing down your phone number along with your name. Once you finished you let go off his hand. Spencer looked at the black numbers, committing them to memory, and your name. God your name would be bouncing around his head for days. “Y/N.” He said, testing the name. It felt right.

“That’s me, you better put that in your phone. These markers are not nearly as permanent on skin. It’s the oils.” You went on, capping the marker as you spoke. “I will. Thank you.” Spencer said and smiled. He stayed standing in place for another moment. Trying to commit you to memory just in case his eidetic memory failed him. He realized he was staring a little and cleared his throat. “I eh… I have to go.” pointing his thumb to the door. You giggled a little, a sound that made Spencer’s cheek heat up a little. “Right, pretty boy, head on out. I need to get back to work too.” You smiled casually. Spencer’s face was only heating up more. He swallowed. The nickname the others used for him sounded so much better when it came from you. He turned around to hide his ever heating face from your sight, walking over to the door quickly. Once in the opening he quickly looked back, giving an awkward wave that you returned with a smile. 

When Spencer entered the bullpen his face had calmed down a little. Not feeling nearly as hot as before. He was able to think clearly again, but when he looked at your number and name on his hand he felt giddy inside. Reaching his desk he sat down, placing the analysis file on his desk. “That took you long enough, pretty boy.” Derek called out from his desk, humor in his voice. The nickname had no effect when he said it. “Sorry, the lab tech… she was explaining some things to me.” Spencer quickly lied. “Alright, can I get the file?” Derek had his hand already out. Spencer gave him the file and Derek’s brows raised at the number scribbled on his hand. “You got her number?” He smirked. Spencer pulled his hand back covering the numbers and your name with his other hand. “If something needed more clearing up.” He retorted. Derek merely chuckled at his awkwardness, “She’s friends with Garcia, you wouldn’t have needed her phone number.” He added with a smirk. Spencer felt his face heat up a little again, embarrassed. He knew that. He knew that he had known that. But in that moment he couldn’t think.

He looked back at his hand. Your name on his skin. A little flutter in his chest kicked up when he did. Derek cleared his throat, making Spencer look up again. Derek pointed at him with his pen, before opening his mouth. “You better call her soon.”

[waiting-for-motivation]

doc martens

summary: Carlos loves to spoil his girlfriend, especially with accessories for her gothic lifestyle.

pairing: Carlos Sainz x Goth!Reader

warnings: fluff, breaking in doc martens :)

words: 1302

a/n: looks like I‘m obsessed with writing drivers with their gothic girlfriends :) check out my max verstappen version here <33

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

Nights of his return are her favorite time of the day, mostly because Carlos gives the best welcome hugs and kisses. The only thing he cares about right now is to have his girl back in his arms. The moment (Y/n) heard his key unlock the door, she leaps from her spot on the couch and races towards Carlos. Their bodies collide, taking their breath away. His luggage is long forgotten in the doorway. With ease, he lifts (Y/n), her feet dangling just above the floor.

“Car“, she whispers his nickname excitedly, her arms wrapped around his neck while her voice gets muffled by his hair. The familiar scent and warmth of Carlos immediately soothe all her worries and anxieties. His loving presence makes up for the three weeks he had to leave her for racing.

“I missed you so much, mi amor“, Carlos reveals with an unsteady voice, pressing a kiss to his girl’s cheek. Without breaking their hug, he places her back on the ground, causing her face to get pushed against his chest. (Y/n) does not mind at all. “I will never leave you for so long again, I promise.“

They stay like this for some time, Carlos resting his head on top of hers, her arms tightly wrapped around his torso. Their hearts beat against each other, in full sync.

Only when (Y/n) starts to shiver because the front door is wide open, Carlos takes a step backwards to have a good look at her, his hands still resting on her waist. Unlike her usual dressed up self, she is now wearing comfortable sweatpants and one of his shirts, which is way too big for her. (Y/n) looks so cute in his clothing that Carlos can‘t hold back anymore and presses a kiss to her lips.

In his eyes she is the most precious and beautiful being in the whole universe. It doesn‘t matter what she is wearing, although Carlos really loves to appreciate her dark and gothic outfits. Missing her very much in the past racing weeks, her being always on his mind, it is no surprise he bought her a few things.

“I have some presents for you“, Carlos announces as he parts from his girl, grabbing his luggage and the black shopping bag he left behind in a rush. With his hands now full, he closes the door with a kick. His bright smile freezes the second he lays eyes on his unimpressed girlfriend, her arms crossed in front of her chest.

“You know I don‘t need this to love you, Car“, (Y/n) says with a pout, a sense of guilt rising in the pit of her stomach. The couple talked about this many times, yet Carlos seems to forget about it every now and then. Something inside him almost forces him to spend money on his girl, maybe because his past girlfriends expected exactly that behavior from him. Another big reason is the glee in (Y/n)s eyes whenever she unwraps his presents.

“Don‘t worry, mi amor, it‘s not much“, Carlos responds as he hands the black bag to his girlfriend. There is still a frown in between her eyebrows. With a deep sigh, he wraps one arm around her waist and carries her towards the living room with ease, all while still holding his luggage in his free hand. (Y/n) complains up until she is set down on the couch, the bag placed on her lap.

“Besides, it‘s not just from me, also some bracelets from the fans and some stickers from Lando“, Carlos adds, taking a seat next to his girl and watching her every movement. After one last glance towards him, (Y/n) finally takes a cautious look inside the bag. She giggles, pulling a few dark-colored bracelets from the bag with their shipping name woven into. Carlos helps to wrap a black and dark red bracelet around her wrist.

“That‘s so sweet, and here I was believing they all hate me“, (Y/n) says with a treacherous glint in her eyes. Before she can even place the other bracelets aside, Carlos wraps a comforting arm around her and presses a sweet kiss to her temple.

“They adore you just as much as I do, mi amor“, Carlos whispers, taking the bracelets from her and encouraging her to look at the other presents hidden in the black bag. Ignoring the biggest one, a simple carton box, (Y/n) pulls out an envelope with her name. It looks like the messy handwriting of Lando. Inside are various stickers, from memes to skulls covered in flowers. The couple appreciates this gift together, laughing at one particular picture of a confused Charles.

“Now open mine“, Carlos pleads after putting the stickers back into the envelope. The only thing left inside the bag is a carton the size of a shoebox with a very familiar logo. (Y/n) presses her lips together, already suspecting what she will find inside said box. A high scream escapes her as she reveals a new pair of doc martens.

“No way! Car, you are the best!“, she laughs, jumping straight into her boyfriends awaiting arms. The new boots fall to the ground, but they both couldn’t care less. They were separated for so long, this hug is only the beginning of an almost endless time of physical affection.

“You had them on your wishlist for so long“, Carlos explains after they part and (Y/n) picks up her boots from the floor, admiring every inch. Once again, there are tears in her eyes at her boyfriend’s mindfulness. Carlos always manages to catch her off guard with his sweet gestures.

“Thank you so much“, (Y/n) whines with a smile, placing the doc martens back in the box. Then she bounces on top of Carlos, tackling him to the couch and pressing kisses all over his face. He can only laugh and hold her waist, till their lips finally meet, and he can deepen the kiss to show his girl just how much he missed her.

She loves the boots Carlos bought her, yet they cause her more pain than anything else. Although (Y/n) wears them every chance she gets, she still struggles to walk properly in them. The plateau as well as the hard leather cause her feet to hurt after a few steps. Most times she manages to smile through the pain, but wearing them to a race weekend might have been a mistake.

“Are you okay, mi amor?“, Carlos asks concerned, finally finished with the many questions of curious reporters about his podium position. Celebrating with his team filled him with excitement, but what really makes his day is reuniting with his girl. She clearly attracts attention on the paddock, clothed in her black gothic outfit and the heavy plateau boots. Her makeup is perfect as ever.

Knowing Carlos will tease her, (Y/n) nods with a wide smile, still staying seated on a crate to give her feet some rest. Carlos steps between her legs and kisses her carefully, not wanting her lipstick all over his face. Before he even realizes, (Y/n) wipes away the small black spot on the corner of his lips.

“Let‘s go home“, Carlos announces happily, taking his girl’s hand and turning towards the exit. Stopping in his tracks because (Y/n) won’t cave in. With a confused expression, he sizes her up and down, finally focusing on her heavy boots.

“Do your feet hurt, bebé?“, Carlos asks. Although (Y/n) shakes her head no, her gaze dropping to the floor gives away the truth. Without a second thought, Carlos lifts her up, causing a giggling (Y/n) to wrap her arms around his neck. Together they find a way through the crowded paddock, not minding the cameras at all. After all, Carlos is the one who gave the boots to her, he has no problem to bear the consequences.

[dragonfirerogue-writes]

One Chance More

Wednesday x Reader

Part One

Eyes flutter open, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. You sit up, confused. Last you remembered, you were dying with a bouquet in your mouth. You give yourself a cursory pat-down but notice nothing abnormal. Standing up, you take a glance around.

It seems like you were in some sort of forest clearing, not unlike where you last ended up. Trees and fog block your sight after several feet. Past that, it's like an endless void stretching out into the ether. It feels like you're in a dreamscape, like nothing feels quite real. When you move to look forward again, there's a sudden figure in front of you.

"GAH! JEEZ!!" You yelp and fall back, landing back on the ground. Looking up, you see a blonde figure in an outfit reminiscent of Pilgrim World. As you stare longer, you notice the similarity to someone you once held dear.

"Wednesday? No... You can't be." You take a moment. "Definitely an Addams, though. It's uncanny."

The figure holds her hand out to help you back to your feet. "You are correct. I am Goody Addams. The one you speak of is of my bloodline." She continues to speak as you stand. "You are tied intrinsically with her. Though she views it as a weakness, you are her strength."

You let out a scoff. "That's a lie. Wednesday doesn't need me. She doesn't want me. Not anymore, at least." You look around, refusing to keep Goody within your sights. "If I'm here with you, that means I'm dead. That's proof enough.

"Not quite." The spirit enters your view once more. "You are in between the Veil. There is a chance for you to return."

"Why would I want to? I'll just suffer again. I'm not keen on coughing up flowers while the love of my life frolics with someone else."

You suddenly feel someone grab your wrist and you find yourself in a familiar clearing. When you find your bearings, you see Wednesday sitting with your body. Her knees are drawn close to her and she has a hand hesitantly holding yours. You glance at Goody and she brings a finger to her lips, gesturing you to watch.

"Is this my fault then?" You hear Wednesday say in a quiet voice. "Because I..."

The goth wasn't audibly crying but tears were streaming down her face. Her eyes stay on your face as if she wanted you to be the last thing she ever sees.

"When did you draw your last breath, my love?" The pet name makes you frown. "Was it right when I kissed him? Did you feel it in your heart?"

You turn away. Reliving your death wasn't an appealing idea. Especially when it was tied to getting your heart broken.

"Or did you remain for a moment longer?" She continues. "Did you feel my guilt and regret after?" That piques your interest. "Tyler is the Hyde. I saw it in a vision. When I realized that, I went straight to you. And now we're here.

"I'm not even certain you would want me here. I certainly couldn't blame you if you didn't. I've been horrible to you. You suffered while I strayed. Now, you're gone and I'm alone. The emptiness you left me is near unbearable."

A single sob escapes from her mouth and it startles you. You watch as she grasps your hand desperately and you swear you feel it yourself. Goody watches your reactions with interest.

"Mi amor... Mi vida. If by some miracle you return to me, I promise to show my devotion to you. I will turn into my parents if it means I'll feel your beating heart once more." She brings your hand to her lips. "Even if you want nothing more to do with me, I will love only you..."

You look away once more. This intimate moment felt too private to intrude on. The emotion Wednesday was releasing was almost too much.

"Have you heard enough?" Goody touches you once more and you appear back into the wooded void. "You have the choice now. Will you leave and doom the Raven with her sorrow or stay and live with her once more?"

A sigh sounds from your lips. "How do you know that I'm tied to Wednesday? Is it really so clear that we're to be together?" The spirit stands before you and places a hand at your heart.

"I can see the connection you share. It's strong, even now. Look past your doubts and you can feel it too."

You let your eyes close and focus on your heart. Its strong beats resonate through you and when you follow the pulse, it leads to Wednesday. When your eyes open, you're smiling at Goody.

"Thank you."

The outcast fades away with a smile, followed by your surroundings. With a deep breath, you close your eyes once more and prepare yourself to live once more.

-----+++++-----

A loud gasp and coughing draws Wednesday's attention. The sudden movement of the formerly still body left her stunned. You had drawn in a breath, only to take in the flowers in your mouth. You flip over and hack up the flowers, clearing your airways. As soon as the assault was over, you let your gaze fall onto Wednesday.

"One more chance, yeah?"

Almost immediately, Wednesday draws you close, keeping your face in her hands and your foreheads together. "The only chance I'll need," she replies. She stares into your eyes with conviction. "I love you. You will never suffer like you did again." She pulls you close and presses her lips to yours. The passion was so intense that it almost overwhelms you. "I will be with you like a shadow. You will never feel loneliness again."

You grin and kiss her again. "I look forward to it."

[grandestheart]

chapter one - tig boarding school au

My mother died two years ago today. Growing up, she would invent games all the time, almost anything could be turned into a game, packing cleaning up? No that was the which-room-can-be-cleaned-the-fastest game. One thing mom would always say to me was “one day avery, one day you will be something special.“ so when she died, that was all I strived to be. Special. Not because I wanted to be, not for money, but for her.

I was in the middle of doing my english homework in spanish when a voice crackled through the speakers, “May Avery Grambs report to the office, that is Avery Grambs to the office.“ I lifted myself from the chair and made my way to the front of the classroom, I heard a couple of gasps and murmers behind me, I didn’t have friends, I wouldn’t be surprised if this was the first time these kids had even heard of me.

Principal Altman was waiting for me outside the main office, he was practically jumping with excitement, “Avery, Avery, come in please.” He moved towards me and placed his hand onto my back pushing into his office. I took a seat on the cold leather seat facing his desk, a chill tan up my spine. “I have the best news for you.” His grin grew wider, I was not in the mood for this today, “you have been invited to one of the most prestigious private schools in America,” my jaw dropped, like physically dropped, “I would be surprised aswell Ms Grambs!” Principal Altman, reached into his desk, “I’ve sent over your information, grades, reports etc..” he pulled a pamphlet out. “This is all the information you should need, we’ve contacted your sister and your flights will be provided for you.” My head snapped up, “flights?, and by who? The school.” Principal Altman looked up at the clock, “The school said that an anonymous person has paid them for you, they wouldn’t disclose who when I asked, but I assume it was the board of directors?” Principal Altman rushed me out of the office, leaving me with nothing but a pathetic leaflet and a million questions.

On my way home that night, I briefly skimmed the leaflet, the school was called heights country day and in Dallas, Texas. The tuition was $100,000 a term, so basically only millionaires attended. Great, I’ll fit right in with my worn clothes and tattered shoes. Libby was waiting for me in the living room when I got home, holding a plate of cupcakes, “celebratory cupcakes!” She jumped up when she saw me. My sister, Libby, is probably the happiest goth to ever exist, “Why are you all dressed up.” I was suspicious, Libby had baked chocolate cupcakes, she was wearing a tight black dress adorned with chains, and had curled her bright blue hair and he eyeliner looked more precise. “Libs…” I sighed, Libby looked down. “I’m sorry ave, he won’t do it again, I swear.” Libby had been in an on and off borderline abusive relationship with a guy called drake for about a year, he’d constantly try and turn her against me, and made me out to be the worst kid around. “If he’s here I’m leaving.” I gripped my phone angrily and stormed out, Drake was stood at the door.

“Hey jailbait.” He smirked, I shoved him out of the way and ran outside to my car. I didn’t really have anywhere else to stay. So I climbed into my beat up ford and layed down on the cold leather backseat. I knew I’d upset Libby, but she knew how much I hated drake. I couldn’t sleep that night, In less than two days, my whole life would change, forever

. 🏷️ @sophiesonlinediary @emelia07 @mrswarnerxo @heqrtlcss (lmk if you want to be added)

[satanstruemistress]

I don't go here (aew) but I am so intrigued as to what's going on bc I've been seeing posts about it all day where I almost never have before 👀 👀 👀

That’s probably because of me lol. I’d apologize but honestly it’s so good.

Honestly, AEW is my favorite wrestling promotion right now, but people don’t seem to want to give it a chance, because they’re ride-or-die for WWE. And WWE is good! But it’s geared more toward kids, where AEW is geared more toward adults. Idk how much you know about wrestling in general, so I’ll explain the whole thing as thoroughly as possible :)

My favorite storylines right now are: Deranged Blond Cowboy and Afro-goth Vampire wannabe (Hangman Adam Page and Swerve Strickland, respectively) hate each other but are inexplicably unable to free themselves from each other. There’s been stabbings, breaking and entering, blood drinking, body stapling, hanging the cowboy with a chain, and the cowboy stabbing a needle into Swerve’s face.

They’re the fandom’s OTP somehow. (They deserve it). We want them to be tag team champions. They’re wrestling soulmates. (They work together super well, no matter if they’re feuding or a team.) There’s a whole playlist I’ve watched a few times on YouTube, that goes through the whole storyline so far. It’s fantastic.

And: “Blackpool Combat Club gets Poly Divorced, violently.”

There’s a lot of history there, but what it boils down to now is: Bryan Danielson, one of the best wrestlers in the world, ever, needs to retire. He’s got a neck issue that needs to be addressed sooner rather than later, but the owner of AEW wanted him to have one last hurrah, so he basically dragged him kicking and screaming into the storyline where he won the World Title from Swerve (my beloved Afro goth vampire). Danielson said he’s not going to just give up the title, he’s gonna fight until he physically couldn’t anymore, and THEN he’d retire from full-time action.

Danielson has a group he’s in, Blackpool Combat Club (BCC for short) with dudes he’s been friends with for a long time, that was started by their mentor, William Regal who is no longer with AEW. (His irl son is in WWE’s “developmental territory - the proving grounds before they actually go in front of approximately half a zillion people).

Danielson’s BCC buddy Jon Moxley came back from some time off and was like “Hey this isn’t your company anymore” and confused the shit out of fans and coworkers alike.

But anyway, the night Danielson successfully defended the AEW World Title for the first time, his BCC team mates Moxley, Claudio (they’re hard to tell apart at first, both tall bald white dudes) and their protégée Wheeler Yuta, along with “new recruits” The Bastard Pac, and scary lady Marina Shafir. They were celebrating. Smiles, kisses, and hugs all around. Pac even hugged Wheeler.

Which is when we knew something was going down. Pac is, in fact, a Bastard. He’s not a lovey/huggy man. He was holding Wheeler back while Claudio uppercutted Danielson which shook fans EVERYONE. And then Mox grabbed a plastic bag and tried to suffocate Danielson while Wheeler sobbed and cried out for Bryan whilst being held back by Pac and ineffectively comforted by Claudio.

Danielson was escorted out on a stretcher that night.

Blah blah blah, a week or so passes, and we see Wheeler…not doing well. At all. He’s dead-eyed, almost catatonic, but he’s using Danielson’s finisher to win matches.

BCC tries to get through to him, but he’s not interested. He’s sided with Bryan.

OR SO WE THOUGHT.

Last night, Mox won the title but wasn’t actually all that interested in the Big Prize. He shoved it into a bag. He and the rest of the BCC started beating the shit out of Danielson. But here comes Wheeler Yuta and another man named Darby Allin, to the rescue.

Darby and Wheeler chase them off, but Darby’s back is turned, and when he turns to check on Bryan, who was sitting in the corner behind Yuta, Yuta hit Darby with one of Bryan’s finishing moves called the Busaiku Knee.

I’m a little fuzzy on the direct actions, because I was busy staring open-mouthed at the screen, processing, but Darby ended up taped to the ring ropes, and Wheeler suffocated Danielson this time.

As he’s suffocating his mentor, his childhood hero, Wheeler is BEGGING him to stop fighting it. Just let go. Then a bunch of faces (good guys) run from the back, and finally help get them off him. Namely three dudes named Orange Cassidy, Hook, and Daniel Garcia.

Danielson was taken out on a stretcher. AGAIN.

Here’s fan theory: Mox, Claudio, Wheeler, and the rest of them still love Bryan Danielson. They’re doing this to protect him from himself so he doesn’t end up seriously hurting himself or worse. That’s how they got Wheeler to do what he did. None of them are happy about it, they’re not enjoying it. They just think it’s their only option.

But this is a story, it’s not real, so obviously we’re thinking that this is all Bryan’s doing. He’s KNOWN to be a devil who thrives on his fan’s horror. (Which is a positive thing in this business). We think that this, not the title, was his last big hurrah. THIS is how he wants to go out, setting his irl besties up for a MASSIVE heel (bad guy) run, while simultaneously setting up the guys that came running out to help him, to be the next big faces of the company.

…Anyway, yeah. AEW is fantastic. I highly recommend it. There’s also a lot of silly and fun storylines that won’t leave you traumatized lol.

ALSO TEN YEARS A MUTUAL HOLY SHIT.

[xsister-serpent]

Sickness Inside

Summary: A goth female reader!soulmate AU with the King Of Curses himself. Based off a character AI and this song (Kudos if you seen Queen of the Damned) I found MDNI 18+! Warnings: Blood, Gore, 18+ MDNI, Cussing,

What was supposed to be a normal night out soon turned to be a bloodbath. You had left my home to go to a goth bar hoping to find some sort of normality in your life. Being that your soul mark was that of the King of Curses your life had been on the run. Finding jobs whenever you could, saving every penny in case you had to go back into hiding. You never stayed in one spot for too long; that was your rule.

You hid your tattoos in a black turtleneck discreet enough for everyday wear. The pulsating music coming from the band speaker, the red lights glowing to the beat. You slowly nodded your head to the beat trying to lose yourself into the thrashing of guitars and the singer’s voice ringing into the dark club.

Why won't you die?

Your blood in mine

We'll be fine

Then your body will be mine

You felt it once more, a familiar lingering threat in the crowd. You glanced around the bar and stage looking for that face that haunted your dreams. There was a hard brush from behind you causing you to jump in startlement. Before you could get a word your mouth had gone dry in horror. 

It was Him. 

The king of curses smiled cruelly as he disappeared into the crowd of bodies unnoticed. 

“No!” You gasped in confusion as you felt your soul mark slightly burn, “No!”

You saw him looking at the crowd with cold malicious intent like a wolf among sheep. That's when you knew what he was going to do. “Move!,” you urged, making your way through the crowd, “Move!”

 You saw Sukuna watching the crowd as the red light pulsed around him. You tried shoving your way through the crowd not caring about the glares and vile comments from the concert goers. 

“Sukuna stop!,” you tried to shout over the music, “STOP!”

 His set of eyes glanced at you as his smile grew cruel with fangs. You were now within arm's length as you reached for his robe, only to miss it by a few inches.

“No, God, no," you spoke in terror, seeing him disappear once more.

 Sukuna’s laugh echoes in the club, hoarse and deep. It makes your stomach turn into knots and sends chills down your spine. You try your best to shove down that feeling of continuous peril of his presence. Suddenly, you felt him inches behind you. Sukuna stepped closer.

His face close enough to your neck to be able to breathe your scent, “Have you finally given up the inventible sweetheart?”  

There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes that unnerves you, like a game of cat and mouse. You turn your gaze away from him, unable to deny that you were, in fact, running from him. He can feel your fear... he revels in it.

“You end this madness, and you end it now! ” You defended with what courage you had facing him.

His voice became firm and sharp, as he spoke with a dangerous glint in his eyes, his lips pressed together firmly, “It’s time to stop running from me Y/N!”

 Within an instant he’s gone from your sight. Your eyes scanned around the club searching for him frantically. There’s a blood curdling scream ripped into the air causing you to look around the club. Immediately there's more screams of terror ringing out through the bar with the smell of blood. Your eyes spot him from his hand, he produces a dagger. In the crowd, people are panicking, trying to run away or to hide somewhere, but some of them are caught by him losing a limb or a head, and he kills them right in front of you, showing absolute indifference to your terror. And after each killing, he smiles, a cruel, empty smile.

 And he laughs.

"He's killing them. Jesus Chirst he’s -" You trailed off in disbelief. Immediately your flight kicks in and you push yourself through the

crowd running towards the exit. A smell of smoke and heat began to linger in the air, but the crowd was in mid-panic.  You glance around the madness seeing patrons covered in blood and others some even as charred bodies. The club was flooded with blood causing you to trip over your own footing. With a hard fall you found yourself on the floor with a smack. 

“Y/N..,” Sukuna calls out to you like a lover, “Y/N…”

Through the panic you stare off into the distance seeing only one still man. His blood drunk gaze finds yours and in that moment you can feel the whole world hold its breath in dread. With one finger he points. 

Directly. At. You.

He approaches you with a calm and confident walk. For him, this killing is no more than a sport... and now he wants the main prize to have fun, to feel that euphoria of claiming something precious. Something a part of his soul he knew he desired, no, needed.

  He moves through the flames unhurt with not a drop of blood on him. You feel his gaze on you. 

Sukuna's eyes blazed with fire and his voice rose in volume, "Run."

With what strength you had you pulled yourself from the floor and bolted out the door. You felt the rain pouring down seeping into your jacket as your feet hit the pavement. You hear people screaming and running in terror along with far off sirens.

“Don’t look back,” you said to yourself, “Keep running, keep running!”

He's like a predator, just following his prey, walking slowly, but with no rush, with complete calm.

Sukuna smiled in the night air, "What a glorious game this will be beloved Y/N."

Part 2?

Author's Note: It's been a while since I posted any fanfic let's be honest. I've tried countless times to write and nothing came through till now. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did.

[letitrott]

Bower Gang x Goth Reader Part 3

Henry + The gang poly Route - Choose your own story

OPTION A. TALK TO BEVERLY

PART 1 Intro (CLICK ME)

PART 2 Sports class "With Henry (FOR THIS POST)

PART 2 (CLICK ME) Mother link all story options

Part 3 (CLICK ME) Mother link all story options

Warnings: Trauma, Smoking, Coping mechanisms, Slightly Violent, anger problems, shitting on religion (I'm sorry!! please don't come for me)

Reader: *you sigh before forcing a smile* I'm fine don't worry..I haven't seen you around before. I'm Lilith... *you smile at her as you bring your hair to your shoulder covering the mark Henry had left*

Beverly: My names Beverly Marsh I'm surprised you haven't heard about me from one of the other girls. *She walks over to you*

Reader: I prefer to keep to myself for that reason... Doesn't stop them talking tho *you quickly picked up things from your bag that fell on the floor earlier. Beverly: Ha True that *she studies your expression, taking in the full picture before brushed your hair aside* Reader: Hey! *You snapped a little swatting her hand away* Beverly: Sensitive I see *she smiles gently* Reader: It's fine *you say sternly* Beverly: Well It clearly isn't, I saw him walking out... *she turns around walking into the same stall Henry had just almost assaulted you in...* Reader: *you watched her a sorrow filled expression hanging around*

Beverly: I won't tell anyone. We are more alike then you may think. *sitting down as she pulls out a packet of cigarettes.* Beverly: Whadya you know, want one? *She thrusts the packet at you. Revealing one lucky last ciggy* Reader:*Walking into the stall, you closed and locked the door behind you before grasping the ciggy. Beverly hands you the lighter as you leaning your back against the door.* Beverly: He's the type of guy who's hard to stay from... *she states puffing out smoke. Reader: *you stay quiet taking a deep drag as a lump starting to form in your throat, looking down at your feet* Beverly: *Beverly looks at you it woah filled eyes* He won't let you go... Around here you're an odyssey..like candy that rots kids teeth. Reader: Haha I already know I look and dress a little different can't be that bad *you smile trying to keep down the unwanted emotions* Beverly: Oh but it will, Trust me it will...there is already talk

Reader: ... I'm guessing you've had your fair share *the ciggaret smoke was starting to fill the cubical. The smoke burned through your nostrils. You enjoyed it..the burning sensation Beverly: I can tell you from experience the girls are just as bad as the boys here... *her legs squeeze together a little* Reader: Guess it's the sad part of growing up...guys and girls alike don't wanna just be friends...its just not that simple... Reader: Does he ever do that with any of the other girls.. Beverly: I'd rather not say *she looks down at her lap* Reader: Hey! All that "wait till marriage" is Bullshit! Guys just don't want to feel insecure bout their weiner on date night.

Beverly: *flashing a bright smiles as you both laugh loudly* Haha Yeah I guess your right. Beverly: There is a roamer going around that his father beats him and thats why his mom left... Reader: *you contemplate for a moment* Well that explains a lot..oh shit..I'm actually starting to feel bad for him.

*WWAAMMM*

Greta: *slams the soul of her shoe on the cubical door jolting you forwards* "I know your fucking in there Beaverly, talking to yourself or crying over your mom again. Not even she could love a little whore like you." *she stood in front of the cubical, her face red, wearing an ugly expression*

Reader: *You turn around slowly facing the cubical door* Watch your fucking mouth... *you hiss*

Greta: WOOOW *claps her hands* Finally got yourself a girlfriend... the guys not interested in you anymore...Beaverly

Reader: *you look over your shoulder at Beverly quickly grabbing her hand and opening the door. Reader: Your lucky these doors close inwards *you hissed*

Greta: *her eyebrows raised and eyes widened before a smug smile appeared on her face* Your the new girl...aren't you.

Reader: *you quickly leave the bathroom shoving past her goons, tugging Beverly close behind you.

Greta: *exchanges glances at her goons before following after you both*

*You hold Bev's hand tightly, it was warm and soft ,looking back as Bev did in unison. Looking out for Greta and her goons.Reaching the court yard where all the students gather, crossing pathways to different classes*

"I HEARD YOU FUCKING BOWERS IN THE BATHROOMS" *You heard her cocky smiles before you saw it...* "You have that mark on your neck to prove it" *students stopped gathering around watching the scene play out.*

Reader: You fucking dumb bitch *you cuss under your breath, letting go of Bev's hand only to feel her desperately grasping at it*

Beverly: Lilith WAIT!

Reader: *You turn around your eyes shot a glare that could pass through anyones soul as you swiftly approached Greta*

*SLAP*

Greta: AAHH *she squealed crouching over on the growned holding her cheek as her eye started to water*

Reader: DON'T THROW DIRT ON MY NAME *you shouted for everyone to hear*if you can't handle a little slap...*you crouch down in front of her looking eye to eye exchanging an almost dead animalistic stare. A look at could bring Death. Glaring beside her head at bowers and his gang watching from afar*

Patrick: I see why you like her Henry.. *he licks his lips watching you*

Victor: Do you really do it?

Henry: Yeah she couldn't get enough of me *he states glancing at his mates as they chucked.

Patrick: What was it like? Did her coochie have sharp teeth, did it try to bite your dick off *the boys continued cackling*

Reader: I didn't transfer to this school cause I was some lonely outcast...*you stated coldly to Greta before getting up and walking towards bowers*

Victor: *freaks out stepping back a little* Oh shit...guys

Patrick: *Gets up in your face* Hey there hottie...what are you trying to do? *a cheap intimidation tactic*

Reader: *grab the collar of his shirt tugging it down and slaming your forehead into his face busting his lip and shoving him out of your way. You eyes burned into Henry's a blaze of hate that would never be extinguished, Belch interviened*

Belch: *he stands between you and Henry placing his large hand over your shoulder and another on Henry's cheset* Hey I am not above hitting a girl...

Reader: *You gaze still stuck to the shitty smirk on Henry's face*

Henry: *smirk widens as he brushed off Belches arm* *Suddenly you felt a warm soft hand grasp your wrist tugging you away fast. You see Patrick licking the blood for his lip smirking at you as they watched your figure slowly fading away. You flip them off with a scowl*

Beverly: *Didn't stop till you were both away from any prying eyes* Lilith! You can't be doing shit like that!

Reader: What do you mean..I'm not a push over *you said in a heated tone*

Beverly: I get it! You're upset! but this is what he wants!..

Reader: *you let the words sink in*

Beverly: He's just gonna push back more, he wins, Henry always wins...

Reader: SHIT I'm such an Idiot! It's my first day at school and I'm fucking shit up again *you hold your head in your hands*

Beverly: Damage is done... Lets just try and stay away from him. *She lets go for your hand placing it on your shoulder* Come on if we fail to get to class we will get detention!

WHAT WILL YOU CHOOSE

A. Skip to Beverly's class B. GO to your intended class

[ughtumno]

Saw somone post their fancast of Silm characters so here's my own casting starting w lord visine and his husband, evil incarnate.

and with my hand upon your shoulder just as a trusted friend would do, I ask you to hear me tf out

Sauron/Mairon: Eamon Farren

he has the PERFECT evil lil smirk, his pretty nose, and he's how I picture Sauron would look in front of Melkor and day-to-day.

His overbite is SO CHARMING and adds to the uniqueness of his face. Just look at him. I do like to imagine Charlie Vickers as a form Sauron would choose tho, hopefully he does justice with what he's given in s2 lmfao

I also see this guy as Mairon as well, much younger looking and corruptable

Annatar/Tar-Mairon: Stahma Tarr (Jamie Murray)

I am head over heels. I have a particular weakness for peeps w white hair.

I like to imagine that as Annatar, Sauron presented more androgynous (to get as many ppl he could to trust him lmfao. Public Universal Friend? More like Public Universal BITCH slaps knee)

dadd- i mean momm- i mean my liege LIKE COME ON look at her, you'd trust that face to benevolently rule an entire civilization of Men, right? No evil strings attached to those eyes.

Post-Alkallabeth: Prince Nuada (Luke Goss)

after he got his ass beat in Numenor and thrown out of his girlboss bod, that's when he started to lose the ability to appear as beautiful as he used to but still conventionally attractive to middle earth standards.

No matter what form he chooses each time he gets injured, it remains on his body to represent losing strength. The flame in his hair is nearly gone and as he loses his power but before the War of the Last Alliance and the Eye, his hair smoldered to grey and black. Mirroring Melkor like dis:

Melkor: Peter Steele and Keith Lee Castle

as a goth, peter steele is such a muse for me and I'm so glad other ppl agree that he's perfect for Melkor.

That being said, I see Melkor's face as a blend of these two.

They both have strong features and Peter Steele's eyes and eyebrows scream disgraced Valar and that's the form he would use in front of enemies and anyone he's trying to impress or intimidate. Keith Lee Castle brings a softer, friendlier presence and for me, captures how he appears in front of Sauron and in "recruiting and manipulation" mode in Valinor and wherever else he's trying to look more friendly.

If you got this far, my apologies LMAO

I wrote way more abt Sauron (rip Melks) I'll do more Silm characters whenever I remember to :P

[vvienna03]

Mishanks

An idea I posted on twitter <Irissvv> I wanna share it here too so…. Okay…This is my fantasy abt mishanks of this… canon divergent au? 

: this takes place in the canon after Luffy becomes pirate king where he beats Shanks,I imagine Zoro and Mihawk duel later. Mishanks reunited,figuring out abt settling down together on red force.

: and Shanks starting to thinks abt what he really WANTS to be with his life with Mihawk, them being domestic-which they can do it now-his desire to make a family. Shanks is totally satisfies how his life is going n he can still just fantasizing abt his breeding kick right?

:well so, one hot night happened n everything peaceful n all until the symptoms starts like Mihawk’s mood swings but that’s still not new- being around shanks for long term time. And morning sickness where he throw up in the dining hall?on red force where they’re having breakfast

:this goes on with Shanks worrying n but still just hovering around then Mihawk pass out and founding out the pregnancy -shocking the red haired pirates like -CAPTAIN KNOCKS UP HAWKEYES!!?- okay so I imagine how he do it is smth that have to do with his celestial dragon blood like➡️

:➡️Shanks blood has a curse or smth abt securing the bloodline no matter what.<shanks origin is so mysterious and interesting I have to do something with it> But also a lil angst because Mihawk’s not suppose to be able to carry a child so that’s his body-oragans changing into a womb can drains out his haki connecting his soul and —

—so haki making a womb but also the child’s life is forming from its mother’s soul which threaten Mihawk’s life.Shanks feeling guilty abt it but Mihawk telling to stop because he wants their baby too of course— ( I can’t do the characterization😭) but my Mishanks is soft bec I’M SOFT

: And Mihawk’s suffering from the pregnancy, he becomes so weak, his body’s thin, cheeks hollow, dark circles under his eyes, having to spent most of his days in bed -breaking Shanks heart and Shanks and his crew set out to find a solution that can make both the baby and Mihawk survive.

:I’m also imagine along the way Zoro coming to red force with perona-he tells his crew to wait while he challenges Hawkeyes by himself they respect it ofc-to navigate him and when he gets there to the news that he couldn’t believe even seeing it in front of his eyes—

:Zoro and perona can’t believe what’s they’re seeing -Hawkeyes is PREGNANT!?- and with Zoro’s protectiveness he goes lurching towards Shanks with his swords until Mihawk stops them ( I love goth family❤️🤧)

:and for the drama -the organization that are still loyal towards world government after their fall because of Luffy n Shanks hears abt Mihawk n the baby and wants to get their hands on them to revenge -nearly got Mihawk (My brain can’t think more🥲)then gets swing by yoru n going into—

:—Labor in the middle of the battle which ends up and giving birth with Shanks beside him. The baby is born but Mihawk stops breathing, the baby’s crying in the background, there’s no solution abt making both of them to survive and Shanks-he’s between the emotions

:—Shanks is torn between happiness for his newborn and devastation of losing the love of this life, crying out Mihawk’s name holding and rocking his body near his chest,face in the curve of his neck…Then the body shaken up,short breaths and Shanks took his face off of the neck—

to see his lover’s golden eyes.

( Because as much as I hate hurting them ,angst/hurt make them and their bond and love stronger eternally. Also I can’t handles sad endings, it’s fine how painful the stories may be —the endings I can’t handle🤧😭 I’m soft and sensitive.🥹)

Oh I forgot to mention why Mihawk stop breathing ,his heart stopping… well his haki and soul make his body to be able to carry a baby so when the baby is born his body is like shuts down, recondition and transform back into his old body which took a few moments.

[raymans-boyfriend]

Can we start over? (Goth Teensie X Mister Death)

Desc: After 1000 years of marriage, is it too late for a fresh start?

A/N: Soooo.... i posted this on DA for @raygirlramblings 's Year of Rayman 2025, the theme for this month is "Fresh Start"... and i thought, since in this fic Goth and Death are married in this... wouldnt there be some conflict with Goth slacking off at his job and Death having to take all the blame? So i took that and made some Hurt/comfort! Anyways, enjoy lol.

(Also sorry the reason this isnt posted on my main is cuz im shadow banned... its been 2 weeks and Support still hasnt responded to my ticket...)

The air of the glade was thick, after all it had just been invested by Livid Dead members who just wanted their peace back. However this had caused mass destruction of the landscape around them. Several trees were on the ground, covered by left over bones.

Now, the main group were making their way to the entrance of the Land of the Livid Dead, a land where the dead were supposed to rest in peace for the rest of time... but they ended up being disturbed, causing all of this.

All the fault of one Teensie... who decided to slack off instead of doing his job. Which let Ales set up his evil plan of world domination.

He was all the way back of the line that was led by Rayman. Goth felt his heart beat faster and faster as they approached the door... and he saw... Mister Death.

He and Mister Dark had been married for 1000 years... 1000 years of Mister Death having to deal with Goth's slacking off, 1000 years of having to take the blame because of Goth... it freaked Goth out because it was now that he realized that he had been ignoring Deaths feelings for the past 1000 years.

Goth felt so dumb, how did he not notice? How did he not notice that his love was clearly unhappy?

Nonetheless, their current mission was to save the Death Fairy, or Persephone. Ales had fought her, but ended up defeating and transforming her.. But Goth kept overthinking about his marriage.

"I don't think hes gonna forgive me after this..." Goth Teensie sighed.

"Nonsense!" The Grand Minimus spoke up suddenly and loudly. "He forgives you time and time again, I'm sure he'll do the same this time..."

That didn't seem to calm the Teensie one bit.

It was too late however.. they were right in front of the portal.

...And there he stood.

The skeleton was covered in bandages and bruises, seemingly from trying to fight off the dead... and failing.

Goth froze when he saw the sight.

"Are you-"

"HOW COULD YOU?"

Goth jumped slightly at the sudden yell from his husband.

"Babe, calm down..." Goth attempted to go in and comfort Mister Dark, who just slapped his hand away.

"NO!"

Tears ran down the normally calm man's face as it got more red. His hands clutched the wooden scythe in his bone'd hands.

He then walked away.

"Wait-" The Goth Teensie attempted to chase his lover, before being grabbed by the Grand Minimus suddenly.

"Not now! We have to save Persephone first."

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

The group of 4 stood before the newly saved fairy, who smiled at all of them.

"Thanks for saving me!"

The other heroes basked in the glory of having saved the glade and all the trapped rulers... except for Goth.

They all started to make their exit out of the door... but Teensie was stopped by Persephone.

Oh crap. This is Goth's boss.

"Hey... what's going on?" She had a raised eyebrow, as her bat wings let her land gently.

"I... I messed up."

Goth... just broke down. He didn't care that this was his boss, or if others could hear him... he couldn't think straight. The years he had spent unknowingly ignoring his lover's feelings, pushing him aside so he could slack off... now he was facing reality.

"For years.. i ignored Mister Death's feelings.. he..."

He couldn't finish his sentence before he fell to his knees. He felt so bad, how couldn't he have seen it?

"How do i fix this? You know about feelings!" Goth looked up at Persephone, pleading for advice.

"..L'll help you..." She sighs, leading Goth to her office.

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

Mister laid on the grass above the land he guarded, looking up at the sky. This was the exact spot where he and Goth had first gotten together all those years ago. He remembered it like it was yesterday.

The sweet words... the hand holding, everything. It did really seem that their love would have no flaws.. but that's impossible. Nothing is perfect after all.

Death then felt someone lay down next to him, and he looked over to... Goth?

"...What are you doing here?" Mister Death moved his gaze away from the other man.

"..." Goth sighed.

"I owe you an apology... you don't have to forgive me."

The Teensie took the skeletons hand into his own, intertwining their fingers together. Goth took a deep breathe in, trying to lower his heart beat to a reasonable speed.

"I'm sorry..." He choked back tears. "I'm sorry for hurting your feelings... or even considering your feelings. It was a jerk move to leave my responsibility to you, including making you take my shifts. I was always 'too busy' to go on dates with you. I promise, that if you forgive me, i will try to improve. I will take my job more seriously, i will take you on all the dates you want."

His apology seems sincere, the words coming from the deepest parts of his heart. His tone of voice was loving, and full of regret. He didn't need the forgiveness from him, he just wanted to say sorry for all the years of ignorance.

"...We'll get a fresh start, set some boundaries... just..." He was stopped when Mister Dark hugged him tightly.

"I forgive you." Is all the skeleton said.

Goth hugged back and they cuddled for a couple seconds before continuing the conversation.

"...I need to apologize too." Mister Death sighed. "I should've told you why I've been so quiet and distant instead of letting all the emotions bubble up."

"...It's not your fault babe.. I should've noticed." Goth started to gently caress Death's rough face, who smiled back at him. "From now on l'll do my job, and treat you right!"

"You've already said that!" Mister Death snorted.

"I know. Just... I just wanted to make sure you REALLY knew."

The two then laid there for the rest of the night, the fresh start they needed for the past 1000 years. How will the future look for them? Not sure, but this is a promising new beginning.

[oldiesstationlover11607]

hiii i have a parx request!!

i am in desperate need of reader dying awstens hair or doing his makeup for when he goes on stage 🧎‍♂️

Banana Peels - Awsten Knight x Reader

Word Count: 1158

A/N: Rahhh so cuteeee I need more parx requests hehe

The air backstage was a whirlwind of energy—roadies rushing around, cords tangled in impossible knots, and the muffled sound of the opening band leaking through the walls. Awsten was pacing, as usual, rattling off a string of nonsense that alternated between hyping himself up and full-blown existential dread.

“What if I trip onstage?” he blurted, mid-stride. “Not like a little stumble, but, like, wipe out so hard the crowd collectively cringes? Do you think they’d throw stuff at me? I’d throw stuff at me.”

“Awsten,” I said, holding up the box of hair dye I was trying to wrestle open, “are you seriously spiraling over a completely hypothetical and impossibly unlikely situation right now?”

“First of all,” he shot back, pointing dramatically at me, “yes. Second of all, that box is winning. Need me to—”

“Don’t you dare touch it. Sit down.”

He sighed theatrically but obeyed, plopping into the folding chair in front of the mirror. His reflection smirked at me as I finally conquered the box, gloves already snapped on and the dye tube at the ready. It wasn’t the first time I’d done this—probably wouldn’t be the last either—but the way his face lit up every time we did these pre-show rituals made it feel like a first all over again.

“I’m just saying,” he said as I started parting his hair into sections, “some people have banana peels thrown at them as, like, a metaphor for life. Mine are real, and they’re waiting for me out there.”

“You’re so weird,” I muttered, unable to suppress a laugh. He tilted his head back to grin up at me, and for a second, I forgot what I was doing. His smile had a way of knocking the wind out of people if they weren’t prepared—not that I ever could be.

“That’s why you keep me around,” he said smugly.

“No,” I corrected, running the comb through his hair to spread the dye evenly. “I keep you around because you’d look like a hot mess onstage if I didn’t.”

“Rude,” he replied, but his eyes sparkled with amusement.

It was moments like these—him sitting still for once, the chaos outside reduced to background noise—that I cherished. I got to see a side of Awsten that felt raw and unfiltered, like all his bravado and stage presence melted away under the fluorescent dressing room lights. He was just Awsten, the boy with half a brain cell and a knack for making my chest ache in the best way.

“So,” he started after a beat of silence, “what’s the vibe tonight? Am I going full-on alien prince? Goth vampire? Surfer dude with emotional baggage?”

I cocked an eyebrow at him in the mirror. “Do you even know what surfer dude with emotional baggage would look like?”

“No,” he admitted, “but I feel like you do. You’re, like, freakishly good at this.”

“Thanks,” I said, softening. Compliments from Awsten were rare—when he wasn’t deflecting with jokes, he was usually too busy roasting everyone in his vicinity. “But I was thinking more along the lines of chaotic neon dream. Something that’ll make people’s eyes hurt, but in a good way.”

“You’re a genius,” he declared, as if I hadn’t heard it before.

The hair dye was setting by the time I pulled out the makeup kit, and that’s when the real fun began. Awsten leaned forward, elbows on his knees, watching as I rifled through the mess of palettes and brushes. His knee bounced restlessly, and I placed a hand on it without thinking, steadying him.

“You’re gonna vibrate out of the chair,” I teased.

“What if I’m just excited?” he countered, but his voice was quieter now, almost shy. He straightened up, tilting his head as I approached with a brush in hand.

“Close your eyes,” I said, and he obeyed. For once, he didn’t argue or make a joke—he just let me work. I traced the brush carefully along his face, the closeness of it all making my pulse race. His skin was warm under my fingertips, and his breathing was slow and steady.

When I stepped back, he opened his eyes and looked at me instead of the mirror. “How’s it look?” he asked, his tone softer than I expected.

“Like a rockstar,” I said, clearing my throat. “The hottest mess out there.”

His laugh was loud and sudden, and it broke the tension like a bubble popping. “You really know how to hype a guy up,” he said, shaking his head. But his smile lingered, and I caught him glancing at the mirror like he couldn’t wait to see what I’d done.

The finishing touches were the hardest part. As I dabbed the last of the makeup onto his face, he leaned into my touch just slightly, his eyes closing again. I told myself it was nothing—that he was probably just tired or zoning out. But the way my hand lingered longer than necessary gave me away.

“Thanks for this,” he murmured suddenly, breaking the silence. “I’d be a disaster without you.”

I laughed, trying to play it cool. “You’re a disaster with me. I’m just damage control.”

His eyes opened, and he looked at me—really looked at me, like he was searching for something he couldn’t quite name. “No, I mean it. You’re… you’re the only one who gets it. Gets me.”

My hands froze mid-motion, brush hovering near his jaw. The air felt heavier all of a sudden, like the world had shrunk down to just the two of us. “Awsten…”

“I’m serious,” he said, leaning back slightly but keeping his eyes on mine. “You’re… kinda my favorite person, you know that?”

My chest tightened, and I fought to keep my voice steady. “You’re just saying that because I’m the only one who’ll do your makeup without poking your eye out. He grinned, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Maybe. Or maybe you’re just really good at being… you.” I didn’t know what to say to that, so I focused on finishing the highlighter and stepping back to admire my work. He turned to the mirror, and for a moment, the room was quiet except for the faint sounds of the opening band still playing.

When he looked back at me, his smile was softer, almost shy. 

“You’re a miracle worker.”

“Go knock ’em dead,” I said, shoving the makeup kit aside and peeling off my gloves. My voice sounded steadier than I felt.

Awsten stood, bouncing on the balls of his feet like a kid hyped up on sugar. But before he walked out the door, he paused, glancing back at me. “You sure you don’t wanna come out and take a bow? You deserve some credit for this masterpiece.” I rolled my eyes, shoving him gently toward the door. 

“Get out there, rockstar.”

And as he disappeared into the chaos of the stage, I let myself smile, the weight of his words still lingering in the air.

//

REQUESTS OPEN

[artzychic27]

Witch Izuku

After not getting his quirk, and with the horribleness of discrimination, quirkless statistics all over the Internet, and middle school, Izuku embraced the darkness since there was no light for him

Inko is a great mom and does whatever she can to support her son, even selling all of his All Might merch to buy some new furniture for his room that fit his tastes

His choice of dress is gender neutral, often wearing corsets, ankle length skirts dresses, black Sun hats, and tops with lace sleeves

He started ignoring his classmates when he was eleven. He reads enough hateful news articles, that their words don’t sting anymore. And he began wearing padding under his uniform when they try to beat him up

Any spider lilies they put on his desk, he cuts the stem a bit and places the flower in his hair

Izuku just spends his days reading pre-quirk era books and conversing with spiders he finds on the roof of the school

One day, after a particularly tough day at school where his teacher decided to punish him for no reason, he had his lunch thrown in the toilet, his favorite book burned, and one of his spider friends killed right in front of him, Izuku goes home early that day, crying for the first time in years

While walking home, a black butterfly blocks his path and seems to beckon him to follow it… To an abandoned shop. It looks like an old curio store, and then the butterfly leads him to an old book, just sitting on a counter

Even though the shop appears to be abandoned, Izuku leaves a few yen on the counter before taking the book and when he leaves… It disappears. Ooo~

Upon returning home, Izuku discovers that he bought a spellboook. While he doesn’t really believe in magic, he decides to try on out and casts a spell on his teacher

The next day at school, when Izuku’s teacher is once again reprimanding him for some stupid reason, a colony of bats suddenly fly in through the window and attack him

That’s gotta be a coincidence, so he tries out another spell on a few students. This one is to make them suffer a great loss

Cue one losing his girlfriend, the other losing the hair he took such great pride in, and the other’s old nose growing back in place of the one from cosmetic surgery

Izuku: Okay. Magic is real.

Now Izuku’s a witch, and he’s going to have some fun all throughout middle school with no one being none the wiser

Inko knows he’s been using magic to get back at everyone, and has no problem with it. It’s about time those assholes got what was coming to them

Their last day of junior high, Izuku is once again ignoring the idiots who surround him when the teacher goes on about the hero course, and by that time, he’s got his ear buds in

Bitch teacher: Oh, Midoriya! Didn’t you want to go to Yuuei?

Izuku: Maybe, maybe not, but that was not your information to share, you quirkist bitch. Now, pick your jaw up off the floor and kindly explain to your demon students that quirk usage is forbidden on school property.

He gets sent to the principal’s office, but not before casting a spell to make his teacher’s hair catch on fire and for his principal’s clothes to restrict him

Izuku goes home with a bright smile on his face… Then he runs into the sludge monster. Using his powers, he turns the monster back into his human form, and the man, Akatani Mika is eternally grateful

When All Might arrives, he only sees a young goth boy and his “uncle”, and takes off to look for the sludge monster

Mika: Kid, I-I owe you my life.

Izuku: I accept tablespoons of blood only.

Mika: … What?

Izuku: What? I need more ingredients. It’s hard to get blood these days.

Mika becomes sort of a father figure over the months, often helps around the house, buys groceries, and even buys Izuku some books

Oh, and Izuku is going for Yuuei, the hero course, since society needs actual competent heroes

Using the hundreds of spells he memorized, he creates a black hole to suck up only what he wants it to- The robots piece by piece

When he comes across Uraraka, he just touches the debris, and it crumbles into bits, then he fucking possesses the Zero Pointer and has it destroy the other robots

Eraserhead/Vlad King: … I WANT HIM!

And after a brutal combat between the teachers, Izuku gets into 1-A where he becomes fast friends with Fumikage and Dark Shadow once the former senses his inner darkness

Fumikage: We shall revel in the dark, my black hearted brother.

Izuku: I look forward to it, bringer of despair.

Katsuki: Fuck! Now there’s two of them!

Izuku gets through the quirk assessment tests pretty easily since he’s spent the past couple of months with Mika going to the gym and building up his strength and endurance

He ends up in fifth, and is pleased to see that the grape got last… BUT ‘TWAS ALL A RUSE!

Izuku, Fumikage, and Dark Shadow spend most of their time together and even attract two new members to their little cult, Reiko Yanagi and Hitoshi Shinsou

It takes a few weeks before Izuku feels he can trust them enough to show him his spell book, AKA, his “quirk”, and they still accept him

After looking through the rules, Izuku sees there’s nothing about dying his uniform jacket black… So he does

Let’s see, what else? Oh yeah. Izuku’s hero costume makes him look like a necromancer, he teleports the villains back to wherever it was that they came from and puts a protective seal over the USJ, he comes in second at the Sports Festival, gets only ten work study from the heroes who weren’t little punk bitches, his hero name is Salem, he does his work study with the Witch Hero, Crimson, and the training camp goes wrong because Izuku forgot to put a seal over it

Katsuki gets kidnapped and now the goth squad has gotta save his ass, incognito

They manage to get him back without getting caught before the heroes can even get there, and Aizawa- who saw everything- promises not to say anything. Goths (plus an emo) gotta stick together

Cue Dorms!

Izuku’s room is similar to Fumikage’s, completely submerged in darkness with a Victorian charm to it. He, Yanagi, Shinsou, Fumikage, and Dark Shadow hold weekly seances there and convince the spirits to mess around with Katsuki and All Might (Who didn’t retire, by the way and still hasn’t passed down One For All)

Quirk Provisional License exam, the Goth Squad all pass, Katsuki and Shouto don’t, on with the show!

Instead of leaving Eri at the hands of that bastard, Izuku uses a spell to freeze Overhaul, drag him back to Crimson’s agency, and then use a truth spell to force him to give over any information he has

They infiltrate his base, arrest everyone, and Eri gets adopted by the Yamazawas

Eri clings to Izuku like a lifeline since he was the one who saved her. He doesn’t mind one bit and even takes her to a seance to meet one of his ghost friends

So now, Eri is a baby bat goth

[troublcmakcrs]

{ ⊾ } —- favorite rp memory? / { ⋎ } —- favorite thing about the rp community? ( forces you to be nice because its funny ) / { ⊿ } this was talk about your favorite character but amma add spice : talk about your favorite sim character <3

wahhh, i had to leave the mysims rpc after a huge stupid drama blew it up (part of my decision to leave was due to me being busy with school anyway, plus it was just boring to continue in that fandom when half of my rp partners (2 people) suddenly blocked me) but my time in that fandom will always hold a very special place in my heart. it was the first tumblr rpc that i really got into, and it was back in the days of people actually interacting and sending out random asks and tagging their mutuals in random starters. even with only 5 people, a pet rock, and a shoelace in the fandom, the dash felt so vibrant and alive.

i had one ship that i really loved, travis & crystal, wherein i wrote crystal and my friend (at the time) joey wrote travis. they were high school sweethearts, the dumb blond jock boy & the bitchy sassy goth girl riddled with teen angst. and they were sooo cute 💕 i struggle to listen to songs about summer love without going back to them

i do wanna bring my mysims muses back someday, but i'm worried i'll never be able to recapture the magic that was The Thems, i'm sooo :(

     *     *     *

fuck you

my favorite thing about the rpc community is... honestly... just existing as a community. i love seeing everybody's writing and posts on my dash and being able to get inspired by those! while i write entirely for myself (and you should, too!) i find that my writing is better when i'm faced with other writing. there's just something about getting a really good reply from your partner, like when eli hit me with the line "an ouroboros of narcissism" or something like that, that gets me.

you know when you read something so good that your fingers get twitchy and you feel compelled to put them on the keys yourself? i live for that feeling, and it's something i don't get as easily in the fanfiction community. but in the rpc, that feedback loop is pretty much constant

     *     *     *

AGH... how could you make me pick a favorite sim?? :( all of the residents of sunset valley (not you, thornton wolff) have me in a fucking vice. (i'm jk, even thornton gets me, but goddamn he is terrible, but that's what's fun about him. pretty much every time i play with thornton, i make him the biggest bitch imaginable)

but ig... my favorite sim out of all of them is probably mortimer goth. he's definitely gotten the most playtime out of all of the sunset valley townies. i love going against established canon and making him marry the ghost, lolita goth, in his backyard instead of bella bachelor like he's ~supposed~ to or whatever. sb pointed out that that was very twilight-ish, and i'm like. fuck it, idc, maybe twilight has a point. it is kinda freaky, but i think it's cute. weird but cute. let me live, goddamn!!

a very close second is agnes crumplebottom, mortimer's aunt. without player intervention, she will pretty much always die loveless and alone, despite having the "hopeless romantic" trait, and that breaks my heart :( so i intervene as often as i can bc i can't stand to see her die lonely :((

she's a recurring character from... i believe the very first sims game, although she didn't come in until one of the expansion packs. and she made her debut as a crotchety old woman who beat happy lovers who committed pda in front of her with her purse, which ok.......... queen...

but also with sims 3 giving us the backstory that her fiance died right before their HONEYMOON and the implication that she's only bitter about happy couples bc she feels she lost her chance at love... she got me like :(((

(also i just looked it up and i was right. agnes was first introduced in the expansion pack for the sims, "hot date." mortimer has also been in all 4 sims games released so far, in the very base versions of all.)

[rhavensnook]

My unnamed Short Story.

Help me choose a name!!

Chapter 1

Ring Ring!

Ring Ring!

My phone's ringing off the wall. I pick it up to hear…

"OH MY LORDS, SERA!" squeals Runa, my best friend. "You have to come to this party tonight, it's at an abandoned building outside of town!"

"Fine fine, I'll be there. Just don't expect me to stay too late." I, Seraphim, sigh into the phone.

Later in the night, Runa had picked me up in her black 1967 Chevy Impala.

As we arrived at the abandoned building, it seemed to glow against the night sky with colored lights shining through the round Gothic windows.

The bass from inside vibrated through my bones as we approached the entrance. My platform boots clicked against the concrete, echoing in the night air. The full moon hung low and heavy above us, casting everything in an ethereal silver glow.

"This place used to be some kind of church," Runa explained, her dark lipstick gleaming as she grinned. "They say it's been abandoned for decades."

Perfect for a goth party, I thought, taking in the gargoyles that still perched on the corners of the roof. Their stone eyes seemed to follow us as we made our way to the heavy wooden doors, where music and laughter spilled out into the darkness.

We approach the front steps that lead up to a thick wooden door with a metal door knocker. Once we open the doors, the lo-fi music drowns out the silence of the night.

Everyone is dressed in black and white, with plain white masks covering their faces.

Is this some type of masquerade? I think to myself.

"Hey, over here, Sera!" Runa hollers while pointing at a table that has more masks for those to take upon arrival.

I grab a mask and slide it over my long, flowy black and green hair. The mask fits my face perfectly, letting my vibrant blue eyes appear through the only holes.

The crowd moves like a dark ocean around us, their white masks creating an eerie contrast in the dim lighting. I turn to Runa, but she's already disappeared into the sea of masked figures, leaving me alone in this haunting atmosphere. My heart beats faster as unfamiliar eyes peer at me through identical masks.

In the corner of my eye, I see a fluid-moving figure, movements so smooth, it's almost like they are floating above the ground. As I approach this figure, I notice the gargoyles' eyes look as if they are following his every movement. When I look back, he is gone...

Am I just seeing things like I did when I was a child? I don’t know if this is just a figment of my imagination or not but his aura seemed so familiar.

Since he disappeared I decided to push my way through the crowd to try and find Runa. Damn girl just disappears at parties like her safety don’t matter.

As I approach the back of the room I see a figure walk into the hallway, a glowing silver figure. I was seeing an aura.

I start to freak out as this has not happened since I was a young child and I had an imaginary friend. But that’s the thing, he, was Imaginary. Which means not real right?

I decide to follow my instincts and head towards the hallway. The silvery light turns right and walks through a door way. I follow….