#Why have the gods left me to my own devices????

[hyun3hk3y]

Symbolism in "Portrait of Lady Edelgard Von Hresvelg"

This is something that I’ve usually never really felt comfortable doing. If you ever wonder why some artists are a bit more reluctant to actually *talk* about the “meaning” of their work, its because it strikes the same tenor as having to explain why a joke is funny.  If I have to actually lay it out for the viewer why certain decisions were made in the execution of a work of art, the magic of the whole experience may be lost.  Moreover, many artists avoid making definitive statements on their work because they do not wish to deprive viewers the opportunity to derive their own unique explanation. 

While I chiefly view myself as a fine artist, most of my artistic training was as an illustrator.  As an artist, this can lead to an interesting dichotomy when it comes to creating paintings.  During my studies, I was told that the job of an illustrator is to solve pictorial problems for people often by making pictures that tell a story or convey an idea.  Fine art’s definition, in contrast, tends to be more nebulous.  But I digress, on to the painting…

A number of people on reddit and Tumblr have remarked on the candle with the snuffed-out flame.  No interpretations on it have been offered, the mere presence of a candle with a smoldering wick is a strong enough implication.  However, this is one instance where I drew inspiration from art history so I believe it is worth elaborating on.  The animus for the candle originates in the Arnolfini Portrait by Jan Van Eyck.  Below is an image of the painting with the pertinent candle circled.

Art history scholars have a number of different readings about the candle’s presence, but the one I was taught in Art History is that the lit candle indicates the presence of the holy ghost or the watchful eye of God.  Three Houses draws from a number of religions for its world building, in the case of The Church of Serios, the developers took the majority of their cues from The Catholic Church.  If a lit candle would suggest Edelgard’s faith in the Goddess, then an extinguished one must imply Edelgard’s *loss* of faith. 

In addition to the extinguished candle, I would also like to direct viewers to the reflection of the candle in the polished wood table surface. In the reflection the candle is still burning very brightly, almost down to the base of the candelabra.

The purpose of this image is to recall a saying from old Taoism Philosophy in China: “The candle that burns twice as bright burns half as long.”  Those who are familiar with Edelgard’s back story in Three Houses will find its relevance obvious.  I doubt I am the only one to make the allusion.

This brings me to the next major piece of symbolism I employed in the painting, the dagger and the drapery on the table.  The dagger’s significance should go without saying, but its application as a device will become more apparent after I explain the table cloth.  To put it succinctly, the majority of the dark shadow shapes made by the tablecloth are arranged to evoke the shape of the crest of flames.  Below is another visual to help illuminate this detail. 

The immediate implication here is the detail of Edelgard possessing the crest of flames.  As for why I decided to depict it in a more concealed way…When I first got the idea for this painting, the whole concept was that if a person saw this painting in a gallery, they would be looking at an actual artifact from Fodlan, one that created by an artist who actually lived there.  This is why the second row of the inscription reads “In the Imperial Year” on the left side and “1179” on the right.  This means the painting would have been completed just before Edelgard starts attending Gareg Mach, and long before the greater public would know she has the crest of flames.  How the artist came to know this would remain a mystery.  I like to imagine it as a detail that Fodlan’s historians would debate over for years after the game’s narrative.

There is also a second message that I have intended with the dagger’s placement cutting (heh) across the crest…Gripping the dagger over the crest of flames is a statement about what the path is that Edelgard will take, especially when the crest is examined as representing the Goddess Sothis.  In fact, there are two (technically three) lines of dialogue from Three Houses I had in mind for this symbolism.

That about sums it up!  I may do a couple more posts in the future where I show how the painting evolved from thumbnails, to studies to the finished image if theres interest in that sort of thing.

[1hav3m3ntalissu3s]

Soo rn I'm working on a new chapter to my pjo time travel story, but I'm suffering. I don't know feel like editing, but I'm already using this as an excuse to not study! AHHH!!!! I hate it here.

[bibiana112]

Everyone's always so mad over unsolicited criticism but you know what makes me furious? Unsolicited comfort. Me simply not expressing myself the same way as you is not a sign that I'm depressed and in desperate need for you to come to my rescue, it is not an invitation for you to act like my one pillar of reliability or to act like my friend when you do not know my life, do not know wether I do have support, do not know I chose to be in this position you feel so uncomfortable looking at and on god you just don't get to pity me for living my fucking life the way I want to

[bombsonboard]

metal arm brrr

Summary: Every problem needs a solution. Bucky just isn't the biggest fan of yours.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1k

Tags: Fluff in the highest degree, old married couple, Swearing (It's Bucky, duh)

A/N: I just needed to give you guys something, it's been too long since i've written on here and you guys are the best :) I've barely checked this over so I apologize for any typos.

*****

“Can you stop moving, please?” 

Bucky Barnes half asleep is not someone you want to mess with. The first time you shuffled he had hardly made a sound, the second you were met with a low grumble (a warning you knew well) and the third strike, he was thirty seconds from kicking you out of the bed. 

When Bucky had finally learnt to sleep in a bed again, mostly thanks to you, he steadily became a big fan of his beauty sleep and god help anyone who ended up disturbing him. He had a lot to catch up on. Once, you had violently shaken him awake because his phone was ringing and when he heard Sam on the other line, you were deemed a ‘sleep thief’ for a week and a half after. Bucky Barnes was a bitch when it came to his sleep. 

You usually wouldn't have any complaints about being in his vice grip but it was January and the nights were still cold and having a boyfriend with a metal arm meant that you were held to him with an ice cold grip around your waist. When the Summer came, it was a life saver, your own personal refrigerator but you still had a good few months to go before you were hanging off his arm everyday. 

“Sorry.” You mumbled and tried to convince yourself you were comfortable without another word.

Nope, can’t do it. You shift again. 

“You’re kidding- what is it?” He pulls away from you and sits up on his elbow, glaring, he dares you. “Go on.”

With the most innocent doe eyes you could muster you slip your bottom lip between your teeth and debate the argument you could spark when your gaze slips to his vibranium arm in the semi darkness.

He doesn’t miss a thing, you’ve come to realize.

“I swear if you say-”

“-It’s cold! I’m cold! It’s just too much cold!” You burst, arms flailing in desperation. 

“It’s my arm! You said you wanted to sleep on my left, this is my left arm, nothing I can do. Okay?”

“There has to be something.” You search the room for solutions, briefly lingering on the sock drawer. 

“Oh yeah, sorry, let me just take it off.” Bucky grunts, dripping with sarcasm. 

“...If you could?”

“Seriously, fuck you.” 

Bucky falls back into his beloved pillow, eyes shut and wishing he has chosen a partner that let him sleep peacefully, then again, why would he want that when you exist?

“Look, either come to the other side or deal with it.” 

Silence finally reaches your bedroom and Bucky is deeply in dreamland while you lie awake, scheming away. 

In the early hours, you slip out of bed without a sound and make a beeline for the sock drawer, knowing you had some old pairs of slipper socks stuffed at the back. Scissors in hand, you snipped off the toes and smiled at the D.I.Y leg warmers. Oh, he was gonna be mad. 

With nearly medical precision, you held out the slumbering Bucky’s arm in front of you and one by one, slid the fluffy socks up the freezing metal until it was sufficiently covered. Thanking the universe, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, you shuffled back under the covers and happily wrapped the soft arm back around your waist. 

You slept like a lamb after that.

*****

When the morning came, you woke up before him like usual and briefly left him to his own devices as you made coffee, two mugs sitting on the counter beside each other. 

Through the wall, you faintly hear the rising of the soldier before heavy footsteps quickly storm in your direction.

“The fuck is this?”

You look up to see him in the doorway, and find yourself the subject of a stare that would send millions running. Not you. The multicolored socks lined up his arm kind of softened his hoped effect and you had to stifle your laughter. 

“A solution?” You shrug.

“No.” He points at you with his flesh arm accusingly “Nu-uh. This? This is not how we solve things.”

“Is it not? I’m really digging the rainbow on you.” The giggle you had tried to push down had spilled over.

“You’re a fucking menace.” 

The giggle now a full bodied laugh that had you clutching at your chest as you were overcome with the image of your big, scary, ‘world’s most deadly assassin’ boyfriend glaring daggers at you while donning the most fluffy and most colorful socks up his arm.

Bucky was fighting a grin with all his might, your laughter was like an ugly disease, incredibly contagious, hard to avoid, and annoying.

Something soft hits you in the face and you halt your hysterics as you peer at the slipper sock now at your feet. Lifting your gaze, Bucky is smiling smugly, and working a second sock off his arm. 

“Bucky!” You yelp and duck under the counter as the rainbow sock flies in slow motion over your head. 

You probably shouldn’t poke the bear but-

“Y’know, for the best shot the United States army had ever seen you sure do miss a lot.” You taunt from your hiding spot.

When there's no response, you make a break for the couch and get shot squarely in the forehead.

“Say that again.” He dares with narrowed eyes.

“Okay, truce. Truce!” You raise your hands in surrender. 

“Say sorry for last night.” The pink ball of fluff in his hands, a deadly fate, and you’re consigned to concede

“I apologize for last night.” You sigh, approaching him with caution “Now, it’s been ten whole minutes and you still haven’t subjected me to your obscene morning breath.”

He beckons you with his head and you happily plod over, throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss is sweet, and full of promised mornings to come.

It’s welcomed by you. Until you feel the coldest thing known to man, his left arm, writhing under your shirt and sending immediate shivers down your back. 

“Bucky!” You screech and his strong laughter descends on your morning with malice.

Desperately wiggling out of his hold, you escape to the bedroom and yell from your stronghold:

“That was an act of war James Buchanan Barnes!”

[venuzasmuse]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐂𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄, 𝐞. 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬

— the holidays are meant to be festive, free of heartache and solemnity, but odds are forever not in your favor as you spend the holidays with your best friend alongside her sister, that broke your heart.

[rockstar!ellie au, best friend’s sister!ellie, kinda mean!ellie (for a few parts of the story)]

previous, next

warnings: reader is afab, not proofread, mature language, mentions of substance abuse (drugs), ellies a dick in this chapter srry guys, WHOLE LOTTA ANGST. smut & fluff in later chapters. POC FRIENDLY !!

this chapters kinda long because it’s still introducing the reader & ellie’s relationship dynamic so bare with me pls pls pls

upon arriving in texas, a wave of nostalgia washes over you as you peered over the horizons of the buzzing city streets.

the traffic was still— as long as you could remember— terrible. pedestrians raided the roads as if they had enough lives for the people on it and tenfold. you can recount the amount of days you'd be late for school because your brother, simon, took obnoxiously long in the bathroom. you could almost still smell his putrid sauvage cologne from here. the strong scent filling your senses— your head spun nauseatingly so.

you grapple with the map in your hand, flipping it every which way trying to give yourself a sense of reassurance as you and sarah navigated through the intersections. you loved your best friend but you couldn't sugarcoat the fact that her love for detours affected her driving skills poorly.

she'd listen to her gps for the first few hours and eventually get fed up with the alterations that emitted from the older device, completely tossing the given routes out of the window and using her intuition as a sense of direction instead.

"jesus, has texas always been this confusing?" the blonde exasperated, a heavy hand coming down to the steering wheel as a blare emitted from the vehicle.

you shoot her a glare that goes unnoticed and the car jerks as she overpasses the poor old lady in front of her.

"does it hurt you to have any patience?" you groan out. you slump in your seat and throw your head back against the headrest tiredly.

"patience never did anyone any good before." she declares sheepishly, a playful smile spreading across her pretty face.

your head lolls to the side to face the side of her head and you give her a playful eye roll.

"i swear to God, if we ever get caught in a drive by, i'd never let you live it down. even in hell."

she laughs a throaty laugh. sarah grabs your hand giving it a squeeze and shake, her demeanor excited.

"come on! don't be so grim. aren't you excited to be going back home? i mean it's been years." she switches to another lane, eyes trained on the rear view. "my dad is super excited to have you back. he said you're welcome as long as you need to be."

"that's only because we never gave him a choice before." you prompt. the two of you giggle.

"you know what i mean. i'm so hungry— maybe we can hit up mel's diner when we get there. i'd kill for their cheeseburgers right now."

you glance at the gps. "2 1/2 hours left" before y'all were to reach your destination. you groan, pulling your hat down to shield your face away from the blaring sun beaming down on your skin.

you'd be lying if you said that you had gotten any shut eye the night before. too plagued with overthinking, the dead of the night was filled with the sound of tossing and turning as you fought against yourself at an amateur attempt to soothe your own nerves.

trepidation dripped down your soul. you weren't sure how finally seeing ellie again for the first time would enfold. you had a plan to simply just avoid her but you knew you probably weren't going to keep up with that very long.

ellie was persistent and if she had any plan to resolve things, it wouldn't go unnoticed by a long shot. no matter how hard you tried to steer clear of it.

sarah knew about the reason why the two of you broke up. she was sympathetic enough to take your feelings about seeing her sister again after 2 and half dreadful years.

she witnessed first hand the aftermath of what ellie did to you. a brutal 9 nine months of you trying to build yourself high enough on a pedestal to be able to move on completely. she listened to you every step of the way, her ears open and her arms empathetic with every tear shed.

it was even worse when the media coverage began getting ahold of their band. 7 months after you and ellie had stopped talking completely due to your nasty breakup, her band rose to stardom and you could still remember how much dread washed over you to hear the sound of her playing on the radio for the first time.

you avoided her, in every way you could. if that meant no music for months until the hype of her album died down even just a little bit, then so be it.

but the limelight wasn't always as glamorous. you alongside of her family, despite not having heard from her in years, knew about how she'd been living because once the tabloids got a hold of her, the only thing plaguing the media coverage was about ellie.

who she was spotted with, newly sparked dating rumors as she was seen with a different girl nearly every month, and even the downfall of her newly acquired fame.

in pure janis joplin fashion, the height of her success came crashing down as people started suspecting ellie to be abusing drugs. it started when people began to notice how blasted she was in a few interviews. her nodding off didn't go unnoticed by a long shot.

in the spotlight, instances like this weren't uncommon.

you watch a talented person rise to the top, their talent evident as day as they showed it off to the word come plummeting down in a wave of wasted potential due to drugs and or alcohol. it was tragic and despite being as angry as you were with her, seeing the girl you grew up with live the way she was, created a moggy feeling in your chest.

eventually, the band made an announcement that their tour would've had to gone on a break due to "complications" but you and everyone else knew it was because ellie was in rehab.

as soon as she was discharged, the ongoing scarcity of contact between her and her family came to a brusque halt when joel offered for his daughter to come back home, at least until she was ready enough to face her new life again.

so when you found out that she'd be spending christmas with y'all, there was no doubt in your mind you'd have to brace yourself for whatever outcome would emerge from it.

"i'm gonna try and get some sleep. we still have a long way to go."

sarah boos at your resignation, exclaiming a few declarations about how you're leaving her to die of boredom. "you suck!"

you don't respond, simply smiling and turning your head as you're inevitably wisked away into a state of slumber.

❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀ ❀

a somber tune draws out a melancholic melody on your record player, filling the corners of your cavernous room. the night breathes life through a soft breeze that grazes past your curtains. yet, as the sun sets and the cicadas begin to shriek, no amount of words in the english language can drown out the bitterness that sits in the pit of your chest.

no amount of rephrasing could rewrite the sorrow that consumes you whole, in this moment or the next.

you sit with the grief as your gaze lingers on the girl in front of you. ellie sits on the edge of your bed. she's faced away from you, as always, as she stares ahead at the neon lights that seep through the crevices of your room.

clouds of smoke forms around her figure with practiced cinematic effort and your eyes take her in with taut admiration.

you usually dread when the room grows quiet like this. the silence is blinding and tension is permeated in your walls. it leaves you high and dry and guts you with cynicism.

you wait for the moment for her to slip back into bed with you but it never comes. the thought of not being the placeholder of such intimacy rings in your ears like a bad case of tinnitus.

at least not this time around.

you sit up crawling towards her in desperate attempt to get her to look at you. you wrap your arms around her neck, resting your chin on her bare shoulder. empty viridescent eyes scan your face yet you can't seem to deconstruct any love tucked away behind them.

you knew deep down that what once existed fondly between the two of you was stripped away, little to nothing— a scarce void of recognition.

“what’s going on?” you hum out lovingly, as you press a prolonged kiss to her shoulder. “been quiet all night.”

the auburn headed girl heaved out a sigh as she dropped her head in her hands. she braced herself to face you, taking your wrists in her callused palms as she brought your hands to her mouth, pecking the backs tenderly.

“i.. i think we should talk.” she finally vocalizes. the words shoot fear down your spine, goosebumps arising were her lips once resided.

“about what?”

she gives you a look as she turns her body to face you, straightening her back a little bit more. “so you know how i’ve been getting to practice with the band lately? because their guitarist ended up quitting?”

you watched her for a moment skeptically before nodding.

her words are caught in her throat momentarily as she looks down once more. “well, cat and them asked me to join their band.” a glimmer of gleam passes across her face as she breathes out a breath she was holding.

you furrow your brows, a smile breaking onto your face. “that’s great! i’m so happy for you!” you exclaim, grabbing her chin in between your finger to press a proud kiss onto her cheek.

you knew how long ellie had wanted to be apart of something like this. after years of supporting her, you were filled to the brim with joy that she was finally reaching a steppingstone to where she wanted to be in life.

yet, you could tell something was still bothering her as she tensed up in your embrace. “well, they offered me to join but..”

“but..” you trail, eyes still held with hope.

“cat said she knew someone in los angeles that knew someone that could get us signed to a record label. the only downside is we’d have to move over there.”

your face fell as her words fell on sensitive ears.

“move?” you let out a nervous chuckle. “but.. los angeles is across the country.”

capturing her bottom lip in between her teeth, you watch as she gnaws down on it regrettably.

of course, you were elated for her. over the moon.

hell, you would’ve done anything for ellie to make this happen for her, one way or another. but hearing the catch of finally being able to pursue her dreams had you feeling selfishly opposed to the idea.

surely, she wouldn’t have made such a rash decision without taking it up with you first. ya’ll had so many plans that were already set in stone. all you wanted was at least a heads up if they were going to be altered to accustom to ellie’s new schedule pertaining to her band.

“so, what did you say?” your tone faltering from ecstatic to one that could’ve fell on deaf ears if not attentive enough.

“i said yes. i agreed that i’d go with them.” her word vomit rushes out like a fountain and your hands drop from her face as you turn away from her in shock. she grabs your smaller face in her hands, as she tips her head down to meet your avoidant gaze. you shut your eyes, muttering out a “shit” as you felt the pathetic rush of tears burn at the back of your eyelids.

“baby, i couldn’t pass this up. this is my chance to finally get out of this town. i’ve wanted this for so long.” she pleads, dropping down to her knees in front of you.

“why didn’t you wait to at least talk to me about it, ellie? three months ago, we were just planning on moving in together! and what? now you’re just about to dismiss any say that i had in this?”

she lets out an exasperated sigh of defeat as she bargains with her response.

“this is about my future! this is something i’ve wanted for years!” she encompasses her bottom lip back in between her teeth, scavenging her scattered brain to make this situation better.

“you can come with me! didn’t you always tell me you’d follow me anywhere?”

you scoff, shaking your head. “i can’t just pack up my things and run away to los angeles like this with you. it’s expensive there and with the money we have saved up, we wouldn’t last a year in a place like that with just the two of us. we’d need more time.”

don’t cry. don’t cry. you think to yourself as you feel the waterworks begin to churn.

“we could figure it out! cat mentioned a bunch of-”

you scoff at the mention of the girl’s name as you stood up from your place on the bed, walking over towards your window as you dug your fingers through your unkempt hair.

“i can’t believe you made a decision about this with cat before you even mentioned it to me. i should’ve known it was deeper than that.”

ellie stops in her tracks, an expression of hurt painted across her face at the idea of you believing she had concealed intentions between her and cat. but could you really blame yourself ? it would’ve been hard on any girl to see that her significant other’s time was consumed by another girl. especially with the considerable amount of times they spent alone together.

you would’ve been a fool to not suspect anything at all but your love for ellie ran too deep; you didn’t think you could handle it if you lost her to another girl. so you kept quiet, giving her the benefit of the doubt and begged venus herself for the girl to not prove you right.

“it was never deeper than anything.” her tone was stilled as she stared at you with accusatory.

“can you blame me ellie? i mean seriously. you’ve been alone with her more in these past few months than you’ve even talked to me! some days, i don’t even hear from you at all because you’re with her!” your voice goes up an octave as tears begin to spill from your eyes.

“it’s because of—”

“what? the band?” you cut her off, not wanting to hear her myriad of excuses. “i see the way you look at her. you look at her like she’s the only thing you see.” you brush past her to grab your shirt, pulling it over your head hastily.

“the lingering looks, the canceled plans, the way you never tell her to stop fucking holding onto your arms the way she fucking does!” bitterness begins to overpower the solemnity paying homage to the pit of your heaving chest as you jostle her scroll of excuses back to her.

“i mean, god, ellie. has it ever occurred to you that you still have obligations to set boundaries in this relationship?” your tone is constraint from going back to normal.

“are you fucking serious?” she snaps, the pitch of her voice blending with yours in a chaotic cacophony. “i’m trying to tell you about how big of a deal this band is to me, trying to make up solutions, and you’re accusing me of leaving for fucking cat?”

“i mean it was her idea, wasn’t it?” you countered. you were at your breaking point with ellie. you felt like nothing you said would ever change her perspective so you gave up.

you no longer wanted to fight for someone that couldn’t care to think twice about how their actions inflicted hurt on you.

maybe this wasn’t about her leaving anymore. instead, as the conversation became more clear, the realization settled when you realized you were losing her.

“i’m not doing this with you.” you watch as ellie gathered her things in fit of rage, throwing on her flannel and slipping her feet back into her converses as grabbed her bag, ready to walk out.

a feeling of dread quickly dissipates all of the fury you momentarily had as you rush towards her, wanting to resolve this before the two of you went to bed upset.

“ellie. come on, please.” you grab her face, pleading with eager eyes for her to not leave when things began to get bad.

you knew your girlfriend was stubborn. often alternating between fight or flight when reality began to corner her. but you knew, this time was different. no matter what the two of you chose to do, it would change the trajectory of your lives together.

she avoids your eyes and you feel the warmth cascade down your face heavily. “don’t walk out on me. please. not like this.”

she finally looks at you and it’s hard to read her.

“i need to do this for me. not for anyone else. i’m not going to wait for you to change your mind if some ulterior motive you think i have will always be in the backside of your mind.” she asserted, planted in her obstinance.

“if you leave now, i’m not gonna wait for you to come back.”

her eyes scanned your own down to your lips back to your eyes before grabbing your wrists to pull your hands away from her.

“that’s up to you.” was the last thing she said as she turned to walk out of your empty house. the moment you heard the door slam shut, you dropped to your knees as the tears began to pour.

if there was one thing ellie was good at, it was keeping her word. ever since the the two of you were puny little teenagers, she still managed to keep ahold of all of her promises, even the smallest most frivolous ones.

it was something you loved about her because it showed her resilience and firmness. her ability to stand her ground. but as you sit with your hot head in your hands against the comfort of your bed that still smelled like her, you wished so desperately that the one quality you admired so much, wasn’t something she attained.

you knew there was no use in trying to change her mind or waiting for her to. she was set in her ways and held no exemptions, not even for you.

it was a thick pill to swallow but you knew, the moment she walked out that door, it was over.

the next few days were filled with no contact. your phone was sparse of any calls or messages except for one from your mother asking you to defrost the chicken or the occasional check up from your friends when they learned about what happened.

your room was a ghost town. her presence haunting you as a constant reminder in every corner. you couldn’t run away from her even if you wanted to.

you wished you were stronger in your ways. it would’ve saved you your dignity if you were prideful but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to be. you were the worst at staying mad— just wanting to fix things with your girl.

you even racked up some ideas about how ya’ll could make this arrangement work in a heap of desperation.

so when you rendered yourself enough courage to face the situation at hand, you made your way over to her house. you were hopeful that she wasn’t completely set in throwing it all away.

but when you reached her front door, all you were met with was a note that joel gave you that was left to him by ellie. his eye bags were deep showcasing his worry and lack of sleep and you saw a few more grey tendrils in his salt and pepper hair.

ellie had left a few mornings after the fight between the two of you. she left no trace of her behind to be gotten ahold of and you, joel, or sarah hadn’t heard from her since.

taglist: @bready101 @st4r-b3rries @vqxen

[princessbrunette]

brother’s best friend!rafe is on my mind every minute of every day 😵‍💫 fucking in the most obvious places & reader is trying her absolute best to not make a sound, but rafe isn’t having it - he literally goes to POUND TOWNNN & the moans just pour out her poor mouth !!! :(

also, can i be clawdeen wolf anon? (i love monster high❤️‍🔥).

i misread the request i know i know pls

🎀🩰♡🌸୭

“i swear, you wanna get caught, don’t you? yeah, that shit gets you off, doesn’t it?” rafe pants, his dresser banging against the wall rhythmically from where you’re sat on top of it, his hips thrusting into you. he hadn’t even shut his bedroom door.

you’d been outside with sarah all day, lounging by the pool. rafe wasn’t that discreet about his attraction towards you, wandering out onto the the porch to stare you down in your little bikini. sarah had quickly shooed him away, yelling something about him being a perv which he didn’t deny — turning back around in disinterest with an eye roll, sipping his drink as he meanders back inside. but now, after you’d told her you had to grab something from your bag in her room — she’d left you to her own devices inside tannyhill.

“no! we — we can’t, i feel— mmph— feel terrible!” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he destroys your little cunt, bikini bottoms pushed to the side, toes curling at his lower back.

“really? really. ‘cos to me it seems like you feel pretty good.” he whispers, smirk threatening to twitch at his lips as he switches over to rolling his lips languidly instead of thrusting incessantly. your jaw drops, forehead falling to press to his shoulder and you watch him fuck into you, whining as quietly as your body will allow you.

“she can’t know.” you reiterate in a shameful whisper, trembling when his hand presses between you, thumbing at your clit.

“wont know unless you tell ‘er.” he pants, speeding up again chasing his own high. “hey, you’re the one that likes sneakin’ around so much maybe we should tell her huh? — oh saraaaah!” he calls fairly loudly, turning his face to the open door knowing his sister was outside, likely not to hear him.

you gasp anyway, slapping at his chest making him lose his rhythm and he chuckles boyishly, grabbing you a little tighter so you stop fighting him. “you’re fine.” he reassures, lips hovering over yours as he continues to fuck you, about to kiss you.

“the fuck do you want rafe?” sarah’s voice is suddenly not far at all, half way up the stairs and your eyes widen in panic, shoving him away and jumping off the dresser. he presses his lips together in irritation, yanking his shorts up, sure to tuck his erectjon the right way, so that it wasn’t apparent. as her footsteps draw closer to the already open door, rafe grabs you by the shoulders and stuffs you behind it — opening the door fully to conceal you. she arrives, and he comes up with some bullshit excuse, saying he didn’t need to ask her what he was going to ask before.

she asks if he’s seen you and he shrugs, probably way too exaggerated and theatrical with his mouth turned downwards.

“why the hell would i know where she is, huh?”

sarah’s eyes subconsciously glance around his room. “she said she was coming upstairs to get something from her bag. did you say something to her? it’s bad enough you stare at her all the time like a total creep, but i swear to god rafe if you said anything to—”

“the fuck are you pointing fingers for? i said i haven’t seen her.” he argues back, more convincing this time. “last time i did see her in the house, she was saying she didn’t feel too good. maybe you just missed her.” he explains slowly, calmly. you barely breathe behind the door.

the explanation wasn’t quite adding up, and sarah’s brows furrow, eyeing her older brother. he stares back, knowing if he looks away it’ll be a cause of concern. she’s distracted by his overall appearance, the usually well groomed boy stood before her a little sweaty and red in the face, hair dishevelled and stuck to his forehead.

“whats up with you?” she asks in disgust and he rolls his eyes, waving her away.

“nothing is up with m— get out of my room, go.” he walks her back and she rolls her eyes, storming away.

“i’m not in your room, idiot.”

“shutup.”

he watched her disappear before slowly closing the door, turning to you with a growing smirk.

“i’m going to hell.” you whisper.

“well until then, she thinks you’ve headed home so… guess i got you to myself for the rest of the evening.” he closes in on you, pressing your back to the door and cupping you over your bikini bottoms once more, free hand pawing at your tit. “gotta be quiet though, alright? stakes are higher now. don’t wanna ruin all the fun.”

🎀🩰♡🌸୭

[itsjaywalkers]

a little silly jegulus for my darling @veryinnovative !! happy birthday ino MWAH <333 (very very light nsfw)

"What the fuck did I just walk into?"

Regulus doesn't even bother to look up from where he's sitting on the floor, head between his knees as he waits for God—or whoever is up there, really, he isn't fussed—to fucking smite him. He does, however, let out a pitiful sound, both in acknowledgement and as a response. It doesn't explain much, he's aware of that, but Barty knows him enough at this point. He doesn't require anything else from him.

"Yeah, I can see you're having a bit of a breakdown," Barty huffs out, and Regulus hears his steps, light and careful, getting closer to him. "What brought it on this time, though? I literally just went to the corner shop to grab some Redbulls. It's been 15 minutes since I left and you were fine."

Regulus makes another pathetic noise, still refusing to raise his head. This one is a bit more petulant, because Barty has a talent for bringing out his pettiest side, even when he's experiencing unknown levels of distress.

"Babe, I'm gonna need you to give me something else," Barty insists, before sighing heavily. His walking comes to a halt, and Regulus doesn't need to check to know he's standing right in front of him.

He groans, but decides to be merciful, despite being aware that Barty knowing about what's upsetting him this much won't do him any favours. Barty can be a surprisingly supportive friend when it matters, but he's insufferable when he's right.

Regulus lifts his arm and points to his left, hoping he's being accurate enough, considering he isn't even looking. He keeps the position for a couple of seconds before dropping the arm back down, going back to hugging his legs tightly.

Barty begins moving once again, but stops after taking a few steps. "And what the fuck does that mean?" Barty exclaims, and Regulus can picture him throwing his hands up in the air. It almost drags a smile out of him. "You pointed at the couch. Am I supposed to believe our couch attacked you?"

Regulus exhales loudly through his nose, but doesn't deign that with a response.

"Because even if it did, Reg, I'm sorry to say you're gonna have get over yourself and your cute little breakdown. That couch cost us a fortune, and it's where Rosie first kissed me, so I refuse to—"

A sudden buzz interrupts Barty's train of thought. It makes Regulus' blood go cold, and he attempts to bury his face even deeper between his legs, a pained moan escaping his mouth as his face burns.

"What was that?" Barty mumbles, pacing around their living room. "Was it your phone? Why don't you have your phone on you?"

Regulus lets out a grumble, burrowing himself tighter in his own embrace while he listens to his best friend search for the origin of the sound.

It buzzes again, and Regulus is this close to grab the stupid device and throw it out the window, when Barty clicks his tongue, some ruffling following the noise.

"There it is," he says quietly. "Why the hell did you bury it under all the cushions? I know you're not a big fan of it, but this is simply—"

Realisation dawns on Regulus way too late, and by the time he snaps his head up, clumsily trying to get back on his feet as fast as possible but only ending up on his knees, Barty already has his phone in his hands. His eyes are wide, lips slightly parted, and he seems to be reading Regulus' notifications.

He's never regretted giving him his password as much as this instant.

"Barty, that's not—" Regulus starts, strained.

"Oh my fucking god," Barty murmurs, gaze fixated on the screen of the phone. He's not even blinking, and the stupid thing buzzes again, lighting up with a new message.

"Shut up," Regulus says, the blush on his face worsening by the second, as if it knows what's coming.

"I told you," Barty responds, still not looking away from Regulus' phone. "I fucking told you, dude—"

"Shut up!" Regulus repeats in a hiss, pushing himself up a little shakily but managing to regain his balance, not even hesitating before beginning to make his way towards his friend. "Give me my phone back!"

"No way," Barty snorts, dodging Regulus at the very last second, barely avoiding getting tackled into the couch. "This is too good, Reg, I can't believe you fucked up this badly. I would've killed myself if I were you—"

"Shut the fuck up!" Regulus snarls, cheeks aflame while he follows Barty around their apartment, attempting to get his phone back. "As if you're not completely shameless—"

"At least I've never been caught screenshotting my crush's thirst traps—"

"He's not my crush! I literally cannot stand him!"

Barty barks out a laugh, and it makes him falter enough for Regulus to get ahold of the hem of his shirt. However, his grasp is too loose, and Barty breaks away from it before Regulus can tighten it and finally take back what's rightfully his.

"Tell that to the dozen screenshots of his shirtless pics you have in your gallery."

Regulus makes an outraged sound, doubling his efforts, the heat in his face becoming almost unbearable as he chases his annoying best friend.

"That's an invasion of privacy!" he yells, grabbing one of the cushions and throwing it at Barty's head. He hits him right on the face, and it makes him feel considerably better, especially when Barty gives him his most deadpan expression. "Why are you in my gallery?"

"Well, Reg, after reading Potter's texts I got curious. I thought 'it can't be that bad, Reg is subtler than this' but it definitely can be that bad—"

"Stop! You're making such a big deal out of it, there's barely any—"

"Reg, babe, you have a folder just dedicated to James Potter's snapchats."

"It's for better organisation—"

"You must've been blowing his phone up with all those screenshots. Honestly, I don't understand how he hansn't blocked your creepy ass yet—"

"I know you aren't lecturing me about being creepy. You just aren't. Or do I have to remind you the kind of shit you pulled back when Evan wasn't giving you the time of day—"

"The joke's on you, idiot, Rosie is very much into my creepy shit," Barty retorts, stopping for a second just so he can put his hands on his hips and stare down at Regulus. "Although, I suppose Potter must like your freak behaviour too, considering how desperate he seems to be about getting you to reply. Not like I'm surprised, it's gotta be a boost to his massive ego—"

"Stop. Stop. Stop fucking talking—" Regulus lunges at him once more, but Barty is prepared every fucking time, avoiding him without breaking a sweat. "This is all your fault!"

Barty gapes at him. "How is this my fault? I warned you, dude! I told you people get notifications when you screenshot their stories—"

"Well, you didn't warn me hard enough!" Regulus schreeches, burying his hands inside his curls and pulling frantically. He feels like he's a breeze way from losing his shit. "James followed me back out of fucking nowhere, even though I was on my secret account, and then he began texting me all these things. Teasing me, making fun of me, always so fucking full of himself. And as if that weren't bad enough, then my brother also texted me just to sent me a voice note of himself laughing his ass off for two minutes—"

"I don't blame him," Barty snorts with a shake of his head. "Doesn't he live with Potter?"

"Yes. Yes, he does," Regulus mumbles, nearly hysterical. "And I really didn't need the reminder—"

"Sorry, sorry." Barty doesn't sound sorry in the slightest. "Listen, it might not be as bad as you think. Potter will get tired of you ignoring him soon, and then he'll give up and drop it, and this will just become an anecdote that we'll all laugh about in a couple of months. I mean, I'm already laughing."

Regulus stops trying to tear his hair out for a moment, narrowed eyes focusing on his best friend as he squirms in his place, shifting the weight from one foot to another. "You think so?"

"I know so," Barty assures him, and his confidence is somehow relieving, even though Regulus knows better than to trust anything that comes out of his big mouth. "You can finish having you breakdown, if you want, but you have nothing to—"

Another buzz cuts Barty off. The noise makes Regulus tense up almost unconsciously, because after today, he doesn't think he'll be able to listen to the bloody sound without having a heart attack. His shoulders relax slightly a second later, before going stiff once more when the buzzing doesn't stop.

"Oh," Barty whispers, eloquently. "Someone's calling."

"Don't—"

"Potter is calling."

"Fuck," Regulus says, with feeling. "Fuck."

"Yeaaaah," Barty drawls, gaze jumping from the vibrating phone in his hand to Regulus' panicked face. He's wearing that irritating shit-eating grin of his. "Forget what I said. I was lying anyway. You're fucked, dude."

"Shut your fucking mouth and hang up," Regulus snaps, heart beating so violently he can feel it in his fucking throat.

Barty tilts his head to the side, considering. Regulus gives him a warning look, getting mildly sick at the way in which Barty's smirk only appears to spread even wider. "Where's the fun in that, though?"

Regulus feels himself go pale, bile climbing up his throat. He swallows it back down with some struggle, his insides burning.

"You wouldn't," he mumbles, his phone still ringing.

"Wouldn't I?" Barty questions, arching in an eyebrow.

"Barty—"

His best friend is picking up the phone even before Regulus has finished uttering his name. Barty presses the device next to his ear a second later, and there's an almost manic quality to his grin.

"Hey, Potter," he greets, voice filled with glee. Regulus almost screams. "Yeah, yeah, he's here, why?"

Regulus shakes his head furiously, hands moving widely and forming cross after cross, despite Barty ignoring every single one of his signs. His best friend starts walking towards him, and Regulus retreats hastily until his back meets the wall.

"Oh, you wanna speak to him?" Barty is saying into the phone, gaze never leaving Regulus. "And it's urgent? Hm."

Please, Regulus says inaudibly, the perfect picture of desperation.

There's a pause, and for a brief moment, Regulus thinks Barty is about to take pity on him. Put an end to the joke before it ruins what's left of Regulus' dignity.

But Barty is Barty, and considering he seems to feed on Regulus' misery, he ends up smiling big, showing all of his teeth, before he gives James another affirmative reply and then he's handing the phone to Regulus.

He's convinced that Barty has never spoken this politely to James, but Regulus supposes that Barty is more than willing to put his hatred aside when the goal is to take the piss out of him.

Regulus clutches the phone and slowly, his hand shaking, he presses it to his ear. He doesn't say anything, but he lets out a shuddery exhale.

"Regulus?" James murmurs at the other side of the line, and the sound of his voice is nearly enough for him to drop the phone.

"Yeah?" he responds after a beat, the word coming out surprisingly calm.

"Finally done ignoring me?" James questions, and Regulus closes his eyes tight, turning away from Barty's figure. If he has to keep staring at him poorly repressing his laughter, he'll end up murdering him.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Regulus sniffs.

"Oh, don't you?" James chuckles, amused, and Regulus hates the havoc that that mere noise wrecks inside his guts. "There's nothing to be ashamed of, love. I'm very flattered, you know?"

"I bet you are," Regulus bites back, glaring at nowhere in particular. "It really isn't what you think—"

"No? You haven't been taking screenshots of all my shirtless pics?"

"Not all of them were shirtless pics," Regulus complains weakly.

James laughs again, louder this time, and it fill his chest with warmth. "True. I think there was a couple of selfies, too."

"And that one pic with your little cousin," Regulus adds, because he hates himself, apparently.

Barty's cackles turn unbearable, and Regulus' fingers twitch around his phone. He's making a run for his room a second later, slamming the door right behind him, even though the walls are so thin he can still hear the faint sound of his best friend's laughter.

"Ah, yes," James hums, seemingly deep in thought. "That one threw me off a little."

"How so?"

"You see, I assumed you were just collecting wanking material—"

"James!" Regulus hisses through gritted teeth, so ridiculously flustered he feels mildy dizzy. "Don't be disgusting!"

"Nothing wrong with that," James rushes to say, and Regulus hates how sincere he sounds. How pleased.

"Really? You wouldn't find it weird? Knowing that I—that someone has masturbated to your pictures?"

"Well, have you?"

"You wish."

"I do," James retorts without missing a beat, always so shameless. "It'd make me feel better about all the times I've jerked off to the thought of you."

Regulus sits down on the edge of his bed, knees failing him and ears ringing. He swears he can feel his soul leaving his body.

"What?" he says, voice embarrasingly high-pitched.

"What?" James repeats it with a laugh, as if this is all very amusing to him. "Say, love, what are you wearing right now?"

Regulus pulls his phone away from his ear momentarily, blinking at the screen. The call is real, and still ongoing, even though Regulus is certain he must be imagining this whole conversation, because there's simply no way.

"No," he retorts robotically as soon as the phone is back against his ear.

"No?" James inquires, some hesitance slipping into his tone.

"We're not doing this," Regulus insists.

"And what's 'this', hmm?"

"You know what! I don't know what game you're playing, Potter, but I want no part in it."

"There's no game, love. I mean this."

"No, you don't."

"No offence, Reg, but I think I know what I want better than you do."

Regulus laughs, but it's nervous, and shaky, and forced. "And what do you want?" he asks, trying his best to sound as mocking as possible. Regulus isn't sure he does a good job. "Me?"

"Yeah. Yeah. I want you so bad it's actually driving me insane."

Regulus lets out a choked off noise, and the urge to throw his phone against the wall is so strong he has no idea of how he manages to supress it.

There's a moment of silence, and then, "Regulus," James calls him again, and he straightens up as a reflex. "What are you wearing right now?"

Regulus rolls his lower lip between his teeth, pressing his thighs together. "Just some shorts and one of Barty's shirts."

There's a sharp inhale of breath.

"I hate that," James grumbles, and Regulus can feel himself frown.

"Well, I'm sorry it's not anything sexy, but I wasn't expecting—"

"No, no, it's not that, love, you look gorgeous in everything."

Regulus puts the back of his hand over his mouth, despite the fact that there's no one to see his smile.

"Then?" he questions.

"I just—you're wearing his clothes."

"Who's? Barty's?" Regulus blinks a couple of times. "Yes, of course, he's my friend—"

"Just that? Just your friend?"

"Why, Potter? Are you jealous?"

"Reg—"

"Yeah, James," Regulus sighs, probably sounding more pleased than he should. "He's just a friend."

"Good. Good."

"You know, this talk isn't really turning me on."

James chuckles softly, and Regulus' cheeks hurt from how big he's smiling.

"Aw, man, really?" he whines, almost making Regulus laugh. "That's such a shame. I've been half-hard since we started talking."

"James!" Regulus scolds him, but it probably doesn't have the desired effect, considering his grin is basically audible.

"I'm serious!" he laughs, and Regulus shakes his head, leaning back until his back touches the bed. "It's not my fault your cock is so fussy—"

"Don't have a cock," Regulus answers without thinking.

James falls silent, and Regulus is about to take it back, laugh it off or even hang up without an explanation, but then James is speaking up again.

"A cunt, then," James says, and he sounds okay, casual, even if a little stiff. "Is that—are you comfortable with that word, or...?"

"Yeah," Regulus tells him softly, almost in a sigh. "I don't really mind that much, I just—I didn't want you to think—"

"It's completely fine, love. Really. Doesn't make any difference to me. And I know I shouldn't have assumed—"

"You're fine, James," Regulus reassures him, endlessly endeared by this ridiculous man.

"I'm glad, because I genuinely want to do this," James says quietly, like it's a secret. A confession only meant for Regulus' ears.

"And what's 'this'? Phone sex?"

"That, and a date."

Regulus stops breating. "A date?"

"A date," James affirms. "More than one, hopefully, but I'm trying not to push my luck."

"Aren't you doing this a bit backwards? Considering you're already attempting to get in my pants."

"Maybe. But I'm very impatient, and I've been waiting for this a while, love."

Regulus goes silent, pretending to think it over. James' tension is palpable even through the phone, and he delights a little in making him squirm for once.

"Okay," he ends up saying, hoping his enthusiasm isn't too obvious.

"Okay?" James repeats dumbly.

"Okay, I'll go on a date with you."

"Shit, really?" James sounds so excited it drags a giggle out of Regulus. "That's—fucking amazing, we're gonna have so much fun, Reg—"

"And about that phone sex," he goes on, casting a glance at his closed door, "you can call me again tonight, and then we'll see.

James' breath hitches on the other side of the line, and Regulus presses his legs even closer together. He hasn't felt this giddy in quite a long time.

Horny, too, but he thinks the wait will be more than worth it.

"Yeah?" James exhales.

"Yeah."

Regulus is already counting down the minutes.

[frenchgremlim1808]

Why Midori is such a breath of fresh air or how to actually write a Villain.

So the awaited essay, the winner of the FrenchGremlin polls of laziness finally has come! It took some time but it’s finally over. If your choice didn’t get chosen that’s okay! I’ll repost a new poll with old and newer options. Please reblog this one i put a lot of time in it, it's like, five pages long over a silly goose. Also sorry for the grammar i sucks and i'm not native. So let’s begin:

(also here is the link to the video format)

So first let’s make things clear, What IS a villain?

“A villain is a character whose evil actions or motives are important to the plot.” That is why I do want to make a difference between a villain and an antagonist, an antagonist is a character who are a plot devices that creates obstruction to the protagonist. That means that a villain is forced to be an antagonist while an antagonist is not forced to be a villain. For example shin is an antagonist but not a villain, he is driven by selfish desires which are themselves fueled by fear anger and loss, he is the protagonist of his own story and is a sympathetic character despite it all, and Midori is just a bitch. Midori falls under multiple stereotypes of villains. Such as “the mastermind”, “evil incarnate” (lmao),”related to the protagonist” etc. Midori is evil, there is no denying in this, he is purely evil, and he doesn’t have a sad weepy backstory, he doesn’t feel empathy towards other, he is a despicable piece of shit who ruined so many lives. I won’t list everything but here is a list of his crimes, murder, assault, domestic abuse, grooming, verbal abuse, and torture, crimes against humanity lmao, stalking, violent crimes, and participation in a cult. And his worst crime is being a pussy bitch of course. So now that we have put the bases up let’s really begin.

Hollywood has a hate boner against villains and I hate them for that.

Recently Hollywood decided that pure evil bad guys is actually a bad thing, so now they decided to do stupid side story with them, to give them ”””depth””” since I guess how could we like those villains since they are bad. A great example of this is the Disney remakes which I loathe so much oh god I hate them. So first they did a maleficient it was okay honestly, then they did a freaking cruella movie where her mom gets killed by Dalmatians, that’s not a joke, in the peter and wendy movie that nobody saw they decided to have made the captain hook be a lost boy who was abandoned by the lost boys and peter, oh also they decided that PETER CUT HIS HANDS OFF AND LEFT HIM TO DIE BECAUSE HOOK WANTED TO SEE HIS FAMILY. They are going to do a freaking mufasa movie, in no time I can’t wait to have a Ursula movie where it’s discovered that ariel killed all of her family in cold blood or something’s. So you might say what’s the problem? I mean isn’t that supposed to make the story more interesting. No, no it doesn’t, because first they take all of the character personality traits and throw them in the bin, second they are supposed to be the vilain in a musical animated movies, I am not against complex villain, I love them, but by doing this, the original character doesn’t exist anymore. Just create original content with new interesting characters instead of doing stuff like this. Also it’s kind of funny than in all of those interpretation they take all the fun and sucks it out, what do I mean by fun, the gayness, Disney vilain are fun because they are camp, they are fabulous extravagant extra in all the ways possible, and that’s the reason we liked them. Not every character needs something super deep, like “my family was burned down at the stake and my dog was eaten by my ex”, sometimes we just like bad fun people, they are the story, and Hollywood hating them so bad just bothers me a lot. Also now the new thing is to not have a villain at all which can works in some narrative but not all of them, it gets boring after a while. In the past people were angry that villains are bland, but now I kind of miss it. While I will critique villains who have no purpose outside of being evil that’s dumb, like for example Voldemort is bland like white bread because his only motivation is being evil, but evil people do exist compared to what some Hollywood writers think, they should know. So that’s why I will put a difference between evil villains and villains whose only purpose is being evil; we loved Disney villains but they still had motivations, goals, reasons that to them a least were worth everything. World domination isn’t enough, why do you want world domination, what is the true reason deep in your heart, is it an inferiority complex, is it a savior complex fuelled by xenophobic beliefs.

That is how to write a pure evil villain, evil people exist all over the world, but I have never seen one who doesn’t have they own reasons to be so bad, it doesn’t excuse their actions nor really explains them. We do not want justifications we want explanations. If you are justifying evil behavior then do it, but don’t claim that it is a pure evil character. A pure evil character can be fun, can be interesting, he can be deep, it’s all about balancing all of their traits to truly make them greats. Which is why midori succeeds while current villains fail. Current stupid remake/spin off try to justify the behavior because they feel like this is what the audience wants, but it’s not what we need. So I will defend to the grave evil villains.

Creating an evil villain doesn’t make them boring guys.

Why the heck does big budget movies have either the blandest protagonist or the blandest villains sometimes both, like I said evil people do exist but comically evil character only works in satire not in a serious multiple millions of dollar movie. Example that boring ass avatar movie, the one with blue people, none of the characters are interesting the villain is one note. The lords of the rings also suffers from that, but I don’t care because the protagonist are so awesome that sauron being personality less doesn’t matter. Also sauron is more of a force of nature villains so it’s not the same. The recent kingsman movie has a bland one note villain, there is nothing entertaining, funny, about him he’s just evil, borrrrring. Every Disney remakes depiction of the characters are boring. I just feel bored out of my mind. Atla one of my favorite shows of all time has a main villain that’s kinda one note, Ozai, but he is actually intimidating guy, azula is the superior character, but I wouldn’t consider her a villain she is an antagonist though. I honestly don’t get why Hollywood thinks that just creating a character with no personality and whose only goals is to be evil is good.

So back to midori for a second, here is my question, when midori was on screen did you ever feel bored? Never right! Because despite midori being an evil character he has an actual personality, he’s fun, you want to punch him in the balls. Because midori has other personality traits than evil, midori is petty, childish, extremely intelligent, controlling, a natural manipulator, he is a trickster, he doesn’t seem to get some social norms, he is narcissistic, easily angry, and fears death etc See how I counted a lot of traits, traits that in other character would works, midori has positive traits, and I think that is the best thing nankidai could have ever done, midori has traits that a regular person could have. Which is why if I put midori in any settings his character would work.

Example, instead of a death game the cast is under the sea to discover the insane wildlife and supernatural stuff happening, what would midori do in this situation? Well he would very passionate about finding all of what’s happening, he’ll do anything to find out, even sometime sacrificing others, not only will he try to find what’s happening, but he is also going to try to find a way to make this discovery favour him in the end. Or let’s imagine it’s a vampire situation, where a vampire attacks  the city, midori would try to stop it, not because he cares, but to experiment on them to get their biology and finds the real secret of immortality since he fears death.

Here is my second advice, after creating your character try to imagine them in another completely different situation, like normal life, or a fantasy world, ask yourself the question what would they do in that environment? If you can find a real complete explanation of their actions then yes your character has multiples dimensions if not try thinking about it again. Some example of questions I do want to point out are some like “if my character had all the power in the world what would they do first or”, “if my character had only a day left to live what would they do”

Why is Current media incapable of creating good threats like bruhhhh.

Okay so first of all let’s talk about stakes in a story, let’s say you are watching a slasher movie, slowly the cast gets slimmed down and people die in horrible ways, that should set stakes right ? Well if the villain is an absolute buffoon who makes the stupidest actions and decisions in the world, you wouldn’t feel intimidated at all because despite what the filmmaker might try to say the plot armor will NEVER make a character intimidating. It’s just like a detective character who just seems to know everything without a thought, well you won’t really fear the character failing. Worse is the the final girl, who is for some reason always escaping the slasher guy by pure luck every time, she is shown as incompetent but still she survives, which make the villain seem completely incapable so now you feel nothing.

To avoid this filmmaker often use techniques such has unpredictability, I mean good I mean good ones, for example instead of immediately seeing whose going to survive because the black guys always dies first and the virgin white woman is the last survivor, change the status quo, make us think that this character is obviously safe while they actually aren’t at all. Or actually make them menacing by SHOWING to the audience how horrible dangerous they can be. Which is why SHOW DON’T TELL is so important, telling us how dangerous someone can be only to see them get beaten to death at the end of the movie makes us feel nothing.

Midori felt like a impossible person to beat, he is smart, had twenty plans in advance, even in situation where the cast felt like they might have a chance he was always armed, just like the gun he promised to use or the rocket punch. When they felt like they were finally advancing, he put obstacle in their ways, such as the collar game or the moment he put the collar on explode mode for  ranmaru. The entire point in the murder game was to make time pass, it took a long time for the cast top realize that this whole time they were losing precious time not realizing that the dummies were the real problem. The characters that made you feel the most hopeless were the dummies, if you won by killing midori they would die, but if you lost you might lose people you love (keiji or gin). It felt hopeless because they were no solutions in the end. That creates tension so that creates stakes. If we were told how dangerous unpredictable sou was then it wouldn’t hit the same, we are shown that he is that terrible. There is a scene ingame where bbg shin ai tells us that midori tortured and like to destroy people. That’s exposition so TELL, but do you why it works, because we are SHOWN before his behavior. Midori felt unbeatable, so the fact that we were shown his weakness such has his petty behavior, hatred of minors, and fear of death, for the first time it feels like there is a chance that we might survive this. And still after he isn’t shown has an incompetent buffoon, he is one, but the narrative doesn’t show us that he is.

What is also consider is good to make the audience feel actual stakes is to first really develop well the main characters, how can we feel worry for a character if we don’t know them, the audience need to feels emotional connection to the main cast to actually care. You can use things such has moments where there is nothing special happening just character talking getting to know them. Make us feel why we need to care about them possibly losing, instead of being indifferent. Or I don’t know maybe make an entire spin off game where we get to have the cast talk to each other and seeing dynamics between character that died early to get them a chance to shine and make their death even more tragic, or even make mini episodes of characters who only got a single chapter to show off their characteristic, to get us to know them better? But that’s just a silly idea of course, wink, and wink.

My favorite thing about Midori is that he is actually pathetic, like really pathetic, but weirdly realistic?

Midori is the most pathetic character in the cast, yes more than shin, shin is leagues less pathetic. No I’m not saying that midori is not intimidating or scary, I would piss myself if I saw him. He’s a scary guy. But if you look at him more closely you can see that he is a baby brat in a big boy suit.

So let’s start by something clear, Sou Hiyori clearly displays antisocial behavior, or in common terms he is a psychopath/sociopath, this illness is very badly seen in medias, I am not saying that people who lacks empathy like him are inherently bad, he is, a lot of people with antisocial behavior actually suffers a lot and have a difficult life. Sou real issues is not his antisocial behavior, it’s his narcissism and god complex. Sou feels the need to HAVE CONTROL over others, he like the feeling of being in power, he sees the rest of the world has beneath him, toys for his pleasure. He says that he “really like humans” because despite it all he seems to put himself in a different categories than regular people, they are beneath him. When he loses control his calm and cool behavior disappears and we see his true face, a grown man who has throws a tantrum like a baby. One of the best representation of this is midori views on the cast:

Midori hates kanna, like no jokes he has beef with her, a fourteen years old, actually he has beef with a lot of people in the cast. Midori views emotional people has weak, people who are loving optimistic as beneath him and useless. He preferred when sara was cruel and horrible, that’s what he loved about her, he liked seeing her scary emotionless side. But Kanna, kanna is everything he hates. A crybaby who not only puts the group in harmony, is a source of hope in general, is the reason he near got to have closure with shin (killing him), he views kanna as “not fun shin”. We have many proofs for this, if you type the word kanna kizuchi he says this: “Poor Kanna'd weep! I think a more worthless name would be better for someone like me” He mocks her, but also himself (I’lll come back on this later), he calls her worthless. Also in the electric charge minigame, when he can choose who to shocks he chooses two people in particular, kanna who he hates and hinako who ruined his fun by giving the cast a chance in saving ranmaru. But he does also says mean spirited stuff to other people, qtaro and gin. He also says some sarcastic comments about nao and joe, saying that it’s such a shame that they died so young. But you might say why kanna especially? Because he is a petty baby who is jealous of kanna, Yes jealous, of kanna, a fourteen years old. Because he feels like she stole his hubby wubby shin away from him…. God I hate him. And you know what that make him a pathetic idiot, after the scene where kanna beats his ass, he’s all mad and like “uhh I’m going to pout I wanted you to cry like a lot, now I’m gonna cry”. An that’s actually god, because it humanize him, he wants need thoughts, he isn’t one note, and that’s the most important!

Sou is a villain but before that he is a character, a fully developed character, and THAT’S WHAT MAKE HIM GREAT, Sou works because he works realistically, I mean if you forget the robot part, it’s easy to imagine a narcissist man child who needs to feel in power towards other, so his main prey are young vulnerable people.Which leads me to my next point:

Sou is a failure like really, and we aren’t sad for him.

Sou failed everything he worked on, he failed to get the paper from alice, he failed whith shin since he had to leave earlier than he thought he would leave, because of his mistake he lost his position in the death game, then he failed to kill gin or keiji, and then he died like an idiot losing his cool and acting like a toddler. And he knows it that why he is a bit self-hating (he should be). And yet none of us feel any sympathy towards him, why? Because sou is one of the most despicable guy in existence. He is a disgusting pervert, sadistic asshole, and abusive narcissistic cunt who thinks he is better than everyone. From the bottom of my heart I hate him sooooo much he is literally the character I hate the most in existence. He abused shin, ruined keiji’s life, traumatized the entire cast, literally assaulted sara like he physically assaulted her. He mocked nao and joe and kugie life as useless. He is an obsessive jerk AND I HATE HIM. And you know what…… It’s good. Like I actually feel a lot of emotions when I think about him, he fuels me with anger and disgust, and if your characters can make me feel that much rage then you did it, you created an actual perfect character. Hiyori is such a shit person that I think about him a lot, writers shouldn’t be scared to make a character such hittable assholes, example bojack horseman in bojack horseman is the vilest man on earth and I love it, because I genuinely hate him. Just like I genuinely love kanna, like really I really love her, I in the same time despise midori so bad. We hate him because he is horrible to good people that WE KNOW AND CARE ABOUT, not random npcs. There is a lot of… disgusting implications in his story with shin that I will not talk about it makes me really uncomfortable right now. SO HERE IS A VERY TACKY TRANSITION TO TALK ABOUT WHY I HATE JUNKO FROM DANGANRONPA.

Junko is boring, that’s it, she is boring, not funny not interesting, she is a fetish, she is the biggest Mary sue on earth, she is a gross character made to make fun of people with disabilities and queer people. Her only traits is being crazy, that’s it. I wouldn’t call midori that crazy actually, he’s methodical calculated, and precise. Crazyness is a term for people who aren’t in control of their actions and delusional about reality, sou is not crazy, he knows what he is doing, he is in full control, while characters like shin should actually be consider crazy, like shin is actually crazy but sou isn’t.

Conclusion:

Sou is a breath of fresh air, because nankidai had the balls to write an actually interesting deep and threatening character AND make him a villain. He didn’t fall into the trap of making him have a sad backstory or good motives, sou is just selfish, that’s all he is. He make him a fun entertaining guy who you absolutely hates, he made him threatening and at the same time a complete doofus. He made him humane and pathetic.

But the thing that make me love nankidai the most is this

The fact that he actually killed him that takes courage as a writer to just end a character THAT WAY, which is why midori will never come back alive he is forever dead. And that take a lot of talents as a writer to just take one of the most important characters and just get him drilled to death in the anus, like dammn nankidai you are a savage. That fact alone makes him one of the best characters in game, I hate him as a person, but has a character he is a masterpiece.

Though Kanna could solo him

this was posted as a video on my blog this is mainly so people who don't want to stay there reading a 24 minute video of my stuttering can have a bit of quiet

[gremlinmodetweeker]

An Ant Among Men Among Gods Among Cosmos

You have summoned one of the most powerful summons in centuries. You have done the impossible, and yet, nobody will take you seriously. Envy bubbles beneath a surface of back-handed compliments and cruel trickery. Some fellow summoners think that you are unworthy of your summon, and thus, they try to win over your mate. König is not too impressed by their attempts.

This story is 18+, MDNI. Please read TWs before continuing to story.

TW: Body horror, ableist language, graphic descriptions of disturbing imagery, bullying, horror

Story below the cut

An Ant Among Men Among Gods Among Cosmos

The other summoners watched with hungry eyes as you timidly shuffled into the room. The higher ups had decidedly left you to your own devices after they had tried to take your summon from you, and as such, your peers spread whispers like tree roots through clay, each time rooting deeper into their twisted psyches. The higher ups seemed to be amused by the turn of events. Since you'd rejected their offer to join them, they seemed keen to find a subtle way to do away with you. It seemed that leaving you as a trapped rabbit in a room of wolves was the best punishment they could bestow upon you without fear of König's wrath.

Their punishment proved to be most effective. You shied away from any social outings, becoming something of a recluse in your dormitory. Even the weakest summoners among them still had better control and potential than you could ever dream of. It was humiliating. By all means, you should've been torn apart the moment König laid eyes upon you. The fact that you lived seemed to be a corruption of the natural order. It seemed that the moment you became an anomaly, all the other summoners turned their eyes to you. You withered like a sapling in sand under their eyes.

Whenever you left your room, it was like a battlefield of feet outstretched to trip you and sneers painted on indifferent masks. You trained your eyes to your feet as you moved through the catacomb-like hallways instead of facing those you once considered your friends.

Once, they had taken pity on you. The weakest summoner from a family of greats, you'd been taken in by others and nurtured. Some would invite you in with open arms. Some would pat your shoulder when you stumbled in training. Others would watch you with eyes washed in pity and grief. They all stood by you, though. At the end of every time you'd been made a mockery of in front of the class, your peers would gather around you with soft smiles and hopeful cheering. Everyone was on your side. That was, until König came into the picture.

Some still tried to be nice, but they kept it hidden in empty hallways and late night training rounds. They told you they felt sorry for you, but they were at mercy of those above as well. If the higher ups demanded a blood bath, a blood bath there would be. Little mice like you could scurry to and fro as they pleased, but you could only be prey for so long.

You slipped back to your room as quickly as your mousey feet could take you.

The constant harassment had reduced you to a quivering whelp, hiding in your dorm while listening to the others laugh as they passed by your door.

A knock had you reeling back into your closet. The doorknob jiggled lightly, then twisted as the door creaked open.

You held your breath, shivering with fear.

"Summoner?"

You relaxed.

"Come out, Summoner. You need not hide from me," König gently ushered you out from the closet and to the living room table.

You gently put your meal down before taking a seat.

"You seem displeased," König sat across from you, "why?"

"Can't you read my thoughts or whatever?" you snorted as you picked at a plate of overcooked peas.

"Yes, but I suspect you would consider it an invasion of privacy if I were to always finish your sentences for you," König drummed his claws on the table, "and I believe that you are worth that respect, if nothing else. My mate deserves the world as their oyster, no?"

"I don't really care," you speared a lonesome pea aggressively.

"Your mind says otherwise," König's eyes crinkled with mirth, "I will treat you as you wish. And as such, I will ask you again Summoner, why are you so encumbered by your sorrows?"

You took a large mouthful to avoid his question, but a being born before time itself had more than enough patience to wait for you to reply.

"I just don't feel so great," you decided to say.

König tilted his head, mimicking a curious cat in an unsettling manner.

"Is that so?" he asked with a maliciously playful tone. Usually, König was a fun being to talk to, but sometimes his games were insufferable.

"Sure is," you slurped up a noodle.

"I suspect, dear Summoner," König leaned in on his elbows, "that there is more you have not expressed. Do you believe it wise to hide from me?"

Your eyes slowly crawled up the table, up further along his forearms, and landed on his face, chin nestled in his palms like an amused school girl. A snort left you as you took his present position in.

"I guess I just haven't been getting along well with the others," you finally admitted as you dropped your gaze back down to your barely-touched cafeteria meal.

"Hm..." König drummed his claws on what might have been his chin, "I do think that you may find that they have no weight to their words. Their actions are akin to younglings. I've seen maggots with more maturity than I've seen in your entire... Barracks, did you call it?"

"I know you keep trying to put me at ease when you ask me to clarify things for you, but it's pretty weird," you jabbed a fork in his direction before twirling more pasta.

"Apologies for being considerate," König rolled his eyes before leaning in close, "I think, Summoner, that your fear is unfounded."

You shook your head and took a sip of water, "I think you're too big and powerful to realize just how awful things are here."

König stilled. All the air in the room seemed to be sucked into a vacuum as his pupils thinned into crescents.

"You think I cannot empathize with you because you consider yourself below me?"

When you tried to open your mouth, you could feel your lips begin to tear painfully before your jaw was forcibly shut.

"My, I think you underestimate my capabilities. I assure you, when you have been beaten, when you have been taunted, when you have been ignored like a dog in the rain, I have felt your pain," König's eyes stared down at you like a cat playing with a mouse between its paws, "Summoner, you must understand that though your stars are like playthings to me, you are the fulcrum that my existence hinges upon. Your pain is of grave importance to me."

The food on your plate was even more unappetizing than before. The air returned to the room, and your jaw loosened. Instead of hurtling into rabid defence of a hollow argument, you took a moment to take in his words. It seemed that König had struck a nerve you didn't realize you had. It figured he'd find a way to find a chink in your armour.

"I don't know what to do about it," you admitted quietly.

"What have you tried to do?" König's tone was soft and low.

"I tried speaking to the higher ups, but they told me to deal with it myself," you put your utensils down, "and the only people I trust have been either transferred or are too scared to talk to me anymore."

"Do you consider those that remain to be traitors?" König interjected.

"Not really," you shrugged, "I mean, why would they be?" You thinned your lips into a line as you added, "I wouldn't want to be close to me either. It's too dangerous now."

"So you consider your existence a threat to those who might care for you," König concluded.

"I mean, I guess."

"Do you want to see your friends again?" König pressed.

You didn't say anything, knowing that the ache in your chest spoke volumes that words could not possibly voice.

"So mote it be," König leaned back into the chair with an affirming hum, "I will make it so. Tomorrow, Summoner, do not flee from the cafeteria. Instead, eat with your friends. Once you have settled, I will ensure that you will be safe."

Chills consumed you.

"I don't want you to do what you did to the higher ups again," you shivered faintly.

"So you wish to be alone?"

Your tray had never looked so interesting before.

"I understand," König's words echoed, but when you looked up to try and argue, he was gone.

You hated when he did that.

____________________________________________________________

The next day was a blur. You realized that König never clarified what time of day to sit at the table, and he'd only come to your side after you'd fallen asleep and the next morning there was nary a trace that he'd been there. If it weren't for his honesty about his nightly visits, you'd think he was but a ghost. You hoped that ass you slept, he kept his hands to himself, but there were no signs that he'd done anything beyond what you permitted of him. Then again, why would you expect someone who can warp reality with a snap to be so careless as to leave a clue?

Either way, his nebulous requests had you staying in the cafeteria at all eating times, much to your sorrow.

In the morning, your friends were surprised by your presence, but they'd been delighted to see you. You could see the fear in their eyes as they greeted you, eyes darting all around you before giving you shaky smiles. A small nail drove into your heart as you sat and they leaned back.

"So, how's your summon training going?" one summoner smiled over a glass of what could only loosely be described as orange juice.

"Pretty alright?" you chuckled nervously, "I'm mostly focusing on meditation and endurance training."

"Oh, are you doing meditation with Sergeant Lars?" another friend piped up, "I heard that he can be pretty intense. Supposedly, he studied in Tibetan monasteries for years before coming here."

"I heard that too!" you agreed, "but he's probably the nicest person here."

"His summon is super cool," the first friend added in.

"What is his summon again?" a third friend asked as they held up a cup of water for their summon to drink from.

"I think a follower of time," your second friend nodded, "it's not usually around, but during mediation it extends the class sessions so the students get more time."

"So that's why he doesn't have clocks..." you muttered irritably.

The rest of breakfast went by easily, but you could feel eyes burning into you. You did your best to ignore them, knowing that any acknowledgement was simply inviting in misfortune. Of course, it would come to you anyways, but there was no need to hasten the inevitable. Misfortune had it's way of making its way towards you anyways.

By lunch, you were back to dodging callous shoves and scooting around 'misplaced' belongings that were thrown into your path. In mediation, you had imp summons tugging on your sleeves and whispering vile rumours into your ears. You'd swat them if Sgt Lars wasn't there with you. You wondered if he was allowing what was happening to you, or if he was lost in his own meditation.

During physical training, you had the unfortunate luck of having to do obstacle courses.

The mud soaked into your shoes so that they felt like lead boots. The rain pelted down, and though most summoners managed to get their summons to give them a shield from the weather, König seemed to be uninterested in responding to your calls. Of course, the commanding officer chewed you out for not being able to control your summon, and for the rest of the lesson you were given a wide berth. You felt like a leper in an ancient city, or some harlot in an alleyway. The sheer disgust the others felt around you was palpable, forming in sweat, rain, tears and chilling winds.

Lunch was a miserable affairs. Your friends were in no better shape than you. A few of them sat away from you. You didn't blame them in the slightest. You wished you could keep your distance, but sadly you were in the eye of the hurricane. Your face was shoved into a plate of burning hot chili, and the rest of lunch was spent cleaning yourself.

The final task of the day was sparring.

The gym was a vast space, with the centre devoid of any and all equipment to make room for the class.

The sergeant in charge was a stout man named Sgt Hanson, who carried with him a variety of summons for new recruits to spar against. He had you all pitted against one of his summons, but you were putt against the greatest one of all.

The charge of war was a furious creature, pulling at the chains that bound it to the floor with the ferocity of a raging bull. Its bulbous molten eyes burned bright with bubbling embers and sparks, smoke billowed from its gaping maw. Sgt Hanson simply snorted at your pathetic attempts to defend yourself.

"Why don'tcha call on that avatar of yours?" he laughed as you narrowly doged being gored by one of the summon's numerous horns.

"I'm trying!" you called back, but no matter how often you chanted his name, König would not come. You suspected he found your struggle to be amusing. You vowed that the next time you saw him, you'd strangle him.

The entire two hours was spent ducking, diving, dodging and praying for König to appear. Instead, you were a laughingstock among the class. If you weren't at risk of being torn apart, you might have laughed at the entire situation yourself. Such a luxury was beyond your fate.

The class only ended after Sgt Hanson's summon had been recalled to the other world, and you were left a panting mess on the floor. You wanted to cry, but the worst of the day was yet to come. You couldn't bear to think of it.

König had abandoned you the entire day. It made your stomach churn painfully. You didn't want to think that König had just left you to suffer for his own amusement, but it wouldn't be beyond his nature. An avatar of chaos had no reason to bend its knee before a lowly summoner such as yourself. It still was insulting in how he refused to appear and make your life any easier. A part of you had started to loathe him for it. At this point, you feel like you summoned a ghost rather than an avatar.

As dinner rolled around, so too did you roll through the cafeteria doors. You hadn't even made it to the line before you were pulled aside to a lonely corner.

"Did you even try to draw your summon?" a man, David, sneered as he loomed over you.

"During sparring?" you asked dumbly.

"What else would I mean? Yeah during sparring, you fucking tard!" he spat in your face.

You wiped the thick saliva from your face with your sleeve. As you reached up, you were shoved harshly to the ground. You smacked your head against the concrete limply.

"I just don't get it," a woman named Christina snorted, "you're the worst summoner this place has ever seen, but you summoned an avatar. How did you make a deal?"

You tried to scramble to your feet but a foot was planted on your chest, grinding the heel into your thorax mercilessly.

"I just-" you wheezed as the heel stomped down.

Christina bent down and narrowed her dark brown eyes.

"You're a fucking whore, aren't you?" she laughed, "you whore yourself out to him?"

You shook your head furiously, but the thought of being intimate with König had you blushing red. You cursed yourself as she laughed heartlessly.

"Wait, I'm right?" Christina's face was split ear to ear in a grin.

"Actually?" David eased his foot off for a blissful moment.

"I mean look at their face," Christina's laugh was like acid on your ears.

"Fuck you're right," David marvelled, only to drive his foot into your chest again.

For a good ten minutes, you were ridiculed and spat upon, kicked and stomped on like nothing more than a bug. You hadn't felt this low in ages. You cursed your body's reactions to the allegations Christina made, knowing full well that tomorrow the barracks would be abuzz with new rumours.

You dragged yourself into line with shackles on your feet. Every step exhausted you, but you couldn't give up. You didn't really think König would actually show up now, having given up on that sometime during the sparring session. It probably amused him to see you struggle like this.

Slop was piled onto your tray and then harshly slid across the counter. You barely caught it before you were shuttled out of the way and to your friends' table in the back.

You sat down limply. Not a word was said, all conversation exchanged through morose looks and downcast eyes. What could be said? You saw how beaten down your friends looked. You regretted choosing to sit with them. You knew that by sitting here, they were just targets being lined up for slaughter. You felt as though a poisonous black cloud billowed out from you. Guilt welled up within you like infected blood, spilling over in the form of bruises on your friends' arms and their trepid silence.

You brought a bite of macaroni to your lips listlessly. You'd barely gotten a bite in when you felt a sudden weight on the bench to your side.

"Hey, wait, summons aren't meant to-" König reached over and slapped a hand over their mouth, but the damage was done.

Silence descended upon the entire mess hall. You withered in your seat while König stood and stretched.

"You are my Summoner's friends?" he drawled as he looked over his shoulder at your companions.

One of them nodded mutely.

"Good," König rolled his neck, "Summoner, I apologize. To your friends, close your eyes."

Before you could say another word, the lights flickered as ozone crackled through the air. Other soldiers began to run, some screaming in terror as the lights burst one by one, showering the room in shards of glass.

"Those of you who have not harmed my Summoner may rest at ease," König called out over the cacophony of terror, "I urge you to watch and learn from your colleague's mistakes."

You watched in horror as König lazily raised one arm, drawing up a small handful of individuals as he did so. Christina's eyes bulged as she grabbed at her neck while David only hung limply, seemingly accepting his fate.

"You crawled like insects, spreading your lies like a plague," König's voice darkened, "there is no loss here."

And with that, the room was plunged into darkness.

The individuals raised up glowed from their orifice like glowing green jack-o-lanterns. Their mouths opened wider and wider until their bones cracked and their skin stretched unnaturally thin. You shivered as their stomachs bulged with writhing worms only visible by their glowing broken maws.

You could see König by his silhouette, stark black against the brightening glow. A light began to glow in each of their stomachs, thrumming ominously like the beating of a heart.

By this point, the screams had muted to mere whispered prayers and hushed pleas for mercy.

König turned to you with glowing blue eyes.

"I told you I'd be here for you," he laughed, then snapped his fingers.

Instantly the victims' distended bellies purged themselves of clouds of glowing flies. They filled the upper level of the room as endless flies poured from out their gullets. You couldn't look away as the flies began to crawl out their noses, and in a couple of cases, their ears.

König turned to look back at the sight, then shrugged.

"Not my best work," he admitted, "but it should be enough."

The flies dissipated as the glass rose back up to the ceiling, and the fluorescent lights above flickered before turning on. The bodies of the recruits slumped to the floor, their jaws now back in place and looking like they were in blissful sleep, the only indication of their status being their rapidly rising and falling chests. A couple of spare flies buzzed about before evaporating into a thin mist.

König finally sat down at the table and looked at your friends.

"You are all good. But you," he pointed at one friend with a paling face, "need iron supplements. That is why you are tired. Go ask the nurse for some."

And he was gone. You looked at your friends with a haunted expression, but they could only stare back at you blankly.

AU Masterlist

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

A Moment's Silence

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Oral (f receiving). unprotected sex, marking, praise, Loki got a dangerous mouth but this isn't too bad.

Genre: smut & fluff

Summary: Loki hates when you touch him, and you thought you knew exactly why. // A moment's silence when my baby puts her mouth on me ~ Moment's Silence (Common Tongue) by Hozier

***

The first thing Loki learned about you when you moved into the Avengers Tower was that you are touchy. Not in the 'you're too sensitive' way but in the you're very affectionate way. You're always greeting people with hugs and you cuddle whoever sits next to you during movie nights and whenever you're going somewhere with someone you're either holding their hand or linking arms with them. It's pretty different from the rest of the people living here. Except for Thor, no one here shares your affinity for touch but everyone loves you so they take it in stride. Welcoming your hugs and cuddles and hand holds to the point that most of them have become accustomed to it, expecting it more often than they want to admit.

Except Loki. Loki doesn't do touch and no amount of seeing you do it will make him more comfortable with it. You're no fool. You recognized early that although the others complained when you hugged them there was no real fight in their objections, with Loki it's different. He'd go as far as to disappear on you if you tried to hug him so you stopped. You don't hug Loki, or sit by him during movies, or try to grab his arm on the rare occasion that you're going somewhere with him. Honestly, for a while you didn't spend much time with Loki in general, you weren't sure how to. He was clearly a loner and you assumed you didn't have much in common. He didn't seem eager to bond with you either so you left him to his own devices.

Until recently. You've started spending a lot of your free time in the tower library and evidently, Loki is quite fond of the space too. So you kind of just share it. If you find yourself in there at the same time as him you say hello and pick a corner to do your reading. Sometimes you talk to him a bit and other times you just share each other's company. It's becoming a kind of lovely routine, at least in your eyes. You have no idea if Loki enjoys it as much as you actually but he can be pretty conversational on occasion, usually as long as you're not too close to him.

"Hello Loki." You say when he walks into the library. You've already been here a couple of hours, you honestly didn't think you'd see Loki today.

"Hello y/n. How are you today?" He asks.

"Pretty good. How are you?" You set your book face down in your lap as you watch him walk out of sight to one of the shelves.

"I'm alright! What are we reading today?" Loki's voice carries through the room to you.

"I've picked up a romance for now."

"Not legends and myths for once?" You can hear the teasing in his voice at his question.

"Fuck off I read other stuff." You laugh.

"News to me."

"And what will you be reading today god of mischief? Sifting through spells as always?"

"I was thinking poetry actually." Loki finally appears from beyond the stacks with a book in hand.

"You're a poetry fan?"

"Don't sound so surprised." He rolls his eyes as he sits in the armchair across from the couch you're lying on.

"Well, it's not like you use that silver tongue of yours to recite sonnets." You snort picking up your book.

"Some would say this silver tongue of mine has quite a way with words."

"And I'm sure it does but weaving together lies isn't the same as poeticism. No one will be mixing you up with Robert Frost or William Shakespeare." You muse, your attention drifting back to the story you were invested in before he arrived.

"Your midgardian bards are of no competition to a god you know."

"I'm sure Asgard has its own famous poets of which I'm sure no one would compare you to either." You mutter as you read.

"Now that's harsh." Loki says. You mumble an affirmative dismissively as the drama picks up in the chapter you're reading. Loki takes the hint and leaves you alone as he opens his own chosen read for the afternoon and you spend the rest of the day in silence. Until dinner.

"I'm making dinner and it's movie night. Are you joining us or will you stay here?" You ask, standing up.

"Do you want me to join?" Loki asks.

"I mean- not if you're going to be miserable. I'm just headcounting."

"The others aren't usually as welcoming as you can be."

"Well I w-" You stop yourself. You've only just started to form a friendship with Loki, as much as you enjoy spending time with him you can't outwardly say it. Well maybe you could but you have a feeling the skittish animal approach is best. "I wouldn't be... disappointed if you decided to join us."

"I'll think about it." He hums.

"Alright. See you, maybe." You leave with your book intent on finishing it after movie night. You drop it in your room before going to the kitchen to make dinner. Meatballs, mashed potatoes, and broccoli. It takes almost an hour to make enough for everyone and by the time you're done, most everyone's gathered in the living room.

"Dinner's up! Stevie, Bucky come grab the potatoes and broccoli please." You say grabbing the bowl with the meatballs.

"Coming!" Steve says as he and Bucky hop up from their seats and carry the other serving plates to the big table in the living room where the others are waiting.

"And Sam can you get plates for everyone hon." You say.

"Oh sure." Sam says.

"Get the soda from the fridge too! And the solo cups!" Tony calls after him as he heads into the kitchen.

"Man you coulda just got up and helped out like the rest of us." Sam rolls his eyes but he gets the soda and cups anyway in addition to the plates you asked for. You catch movement in the corner of your eye while everyone is serving themselves and your gaze pops up in time to see Loki strolling into the main room.

"Loki!" You smile before you can stop yourself.

"Brother! Will you be joining us for our moving picture night?" Thor asks.

"Yeah sure." Loki says.

"Brilliant!" Thor nods getting up to clap a hand on Loki's back.

"I made meatballs and broccoli and mashed potatoes if you'd like some. We were just getting settled before we start the movie." You tell him. To your surprise, Loki takes the empty seat beside you and you can only hope your shock doesn't show on your face.

"I haven't missed anything then?" Loki asks.

"Not really." You shake your head. Loki nods and serves himself food.

"Whose pick is it tonight?" You ask once everyone has food in front of them and a few of the boys have already started eating.

"The kid." Tony says, shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth.

"Yeah! I uh decided on Now You See Me." Peter says.

"Nice." Natasha nods.

"What is that?" Loki asks you.

"It's a heist movie." You tell him. "Peter, have you seen it before?" You ask.

"Uh-"

"It's not like the baby spider's gonna be attempting anything like this." Clint scoffs.

"That's not why I asked. I'm just wondering if he picked it because he wants to watch it for the first time or because it's a favorite." You roll your eyes.

"I've seen it once. I just thought it would be a fun watch." Peter says.

"Well let's start it then. Yes?" Wanda prompts. Peter sets up the movie and soon everyone's attention is on the screen as they eat. It's about halfway through the movie that your usual habits kick in and you lean over to place your head on the shoulder beside you- until you remember it's Loki by your side and Loki doesn't like being touched. You lull your head back and around to tilt the other way. Wanda's on your other side but she's cuddled up with Vision so you'll just chill with your head against the back of the couch. No biggie. One movie bleeds to the next though and apparently at some point you start drifting off. Not for long, maybe 5 minutes but when your eyes flutter open again your head has made its way to Loki's damn shoulder. You pull off when you realize, surprised he didn't shove you away whenever you landed there.

Loki had held his breath when he felt your head on his shoulder. He was reluctant to admit the weight felt- oddly comforting. If anyone asked he'd deny it to high heaven but he was pretty content with you leaning against him and when you'd woken up and abruptly moved he almost wanted to protest. Almost.

When the second movie ends, most of the others start cleaning up the living room. Since you made dinner, this part isn't your responsibility so you get up and excuse yourself from the group.

"Goodnight everybody." You say to the room. "And Loki, thank you for coming." You add just for him to hear. Before you can think better of it your hand runs gently through his hair when you speak to him but by the time he's reacting to it you're already disappearing down the hall to your room. Loki spends the rest of the night thinking about your hand in his hair, your head on his shoulder, the way you so casually thanked him at the end as you left- it was something so unfamiliar that he didn't know how to deal with it. And how insufferable to be up all night over this.

The next day when you enter the library after breakfast Loki is already there sitting on the couch in your usual shared space. You're almost done with the novel you picked up yesterday and your plan is to finish it now.

"Hello Loki." You say to him as you take a seat on the opposite couch.

"Hello y/n." He says. You don't notice the way he looks at you over the top of his book for a moment. He's not sure if he should talk to you about the night before or not. How would he even bring it up? The two of you maintain your usual quiet company for a few hours while you finish your book. When you've read the last page you return the book to the shelf you found it on. While walking back to your couch you almost crash into Loki who at some point stood up when you were looking for a new book.

"Oh shit- my bad Lo." You say.

"You dropped your bookmark." Loki says holding up the flat dragon-shaped metal. You gasp and pat your back pocket where you thought you'd put it.

"Fuck- thanks. It was a gift so- would totally suck to lose it." You say, throwing your arms around him. Loki doesn't feel the urge to magically escape your grasp and he almost stops you when you let him go. Almost. "Sorry- impulse." You mutter grabbing your bookmark from his hand.

"You're usually much better at not touching me." He points out.

"I guess we've been spending so much time together that I kind of forg- sorry man. Won't happen again." You mutter.

"I wasn't- I know that's what you're like. It wasn't a complaint. Just an observation."

"You can say it wasn't a complaint but I know what you're like too. You hate being touched." You scoff.

"That's not totally accurate."

"What?"

"Usually you're right- I do hate being touched but with you I don- it's not that I hate it but I still can't stand it just- in a different way than I'm used to." Loki says carefully.

"What does that mean?" You chuckle.

"I'm- not entirely sure." He frowns.

"Well, what if I- do you mind if I touch you now?" You ask carefully.

"That's- fine." Loki says, hesitation clear on his face. You lift your hand to his cheek gently and his eyes close when your skin touches his. You let your thumb graze him softly as his brow furrows. Loki's hand snaps up around your wrist moments later and he moves your hand just enough to break the contact. "I can't-"

"What is it?"

"Too much- it's too much. I feel- entirely too much when you touch me, I can't-"

"Can't what?" You tilt your head curiously.

"I don't know how to handle it. I want- I want more than I can have."

"Say more, please."

"When you... do that. When you touch me it- I don't know how to explain it I just want more from you. Like- like I could devour you whole and it would still not be enough and I- I can't, we can't- so you can't touch me."

"Why can't we?"

"What?" Loki's eyes widen at your calm question.

"You're saying we can't but- why? Is it- is it that this is a desire you have but wish you didn't or-"

"No. That's not it."

"Then- why... can't... we?"

"Please don't say things like that. Not if you don't mean them. I cannot take it."

"I wouldn't say it lightly. I don't understand why you're so adamant that I wouldn't want- that you couldn't have more from me if you asked."

"If I asked?"

"Yes. Tell me what it is you want from me Loki."

"Why would you make such an offer?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"Nobody wants-" Loki pauses, his gaze dropping as if the floor is more interesting to look at than you. "I just wonder how this is advantageous to you in any way."

"Do you think yourself that undeserving?" You frown and his eyes snap up to yours.

"I never said-"

"You don't always have to. Sometimes it's what we don't say that ends up being the loudest." You say. "I'm going to touch you again Loki. This time when it gets too much just- give into that feeling."

"You have no idea what you're signing up for." Loki's eyes are wide.

"I trust you." You whisper and his features melt into a soft grin, as if your words settled something within him. You place your hand on his cheek again, watching his eyes flutter shut as he leans into your touch. The moment stretches for a while until Loki's hands settle on your waist and pull you against him to bring his lips to yours.

The kiss is soft, hesitant, at first- as if he's expecting you to withdraw, but when you drape your arms loosely over his shoulders and deepen the kiss all manner of shyness seems to leave him. The kiss becomes harsher, more desperate, as if he's trying to devour you and give you all he is at once. You match him moment for moment, tongues dancing, hands roaming as you pour everything into that kiss. Loki lifts you and you wrap your legs around him. You pepper his face with sweet kisses as he carries you to one of the couches.

"Are you sure you want to give yourself to me?" Loki asks quietly.

"Are you sure you want to give yourself to me?" You turn the question back to him and he drops to his knees in front of you.

"I have given myself to you a thousand times over, long before now. I belong to you without question." His eyes pierce yours with their intensity as you allow his words to sink in. You almost can't believe he's said it but there's no denying the truth in his voice when he stares at you so earnestly. You clutch his face in your hands, meeting his gaze with equal candor.

"Then you may have me Loki. I am happy to give myself to you." You tell him and he lets out a deep breath. He says something to himself before tugging at the waist of your shorts. You help him take them off of you along with your panties before he speaks again.

"I have wondered for too long how you would taste on my tongue." Loki mutters as he spreads your legs. Before you can fully process the sentence to come up with a response, Loki buries his face at the apex of your thighs. He licks a stripe along your entrance, collecting the evidence of your arousal, letting out a groan as the essence of you floods his tastebuds. You gasp, threading your fingers into his dark hair as his tongue plunges into you, caressing your inner walls, lapping at your juices.

"Oh- oh god." You breathe out, your back arching towards Loki's eager mouth. He groans against you, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure as you squirm against his face. Loki brings his hands up to your thighs, holding you still and open for him as he switches focus, dragging his tongue against your clit in the most delicious way. His movements are sharp, calculated, his eyes on you as he watches what pulls the strongest reactions from you and focuses on those things until your body tenses beneath his hands. Loki pushes two fingers between your walls and curls them as his mouth latches onto your button. The combination is deadly and you can't stop the cry you let out as your orgasm hits you full force. Loki gently works you through it with his fingers and tongue and only when your breathing goes from harsh pants to shuttering draws does he sit back. He makes a point to link his fingers clean when your eyes flutter open.

"Even better than I expected." He says.

"What?" You ask with a breathless chuckle.

"How you taste, the sight of you in pure pleasure, the feel of your skin against mine- all of it, even better than I imagined." Loki punctuates each item on his list with a trail of kisses until he's hovering over you. 

"Yes well, how nice to learn that silver tongue of yours is good for more than smart remarks." You smirk and pull him down into a kiss, tasting yourself on his lips and not caring, you simply want to be connected like this forever. Your hands trail down Loki's abdomen, freeing him from his own pants which he shoves the rest of the way off when you can no longer push them yourself. His kisses drop to your neck as he does so.

"You'll have plenty of time to learn all that my silver tongue is good for." He mutters against your skin. You giggle at his words a bit though it's shortlived as Loki chooses that moment to rock his hips into yours and the stretch of his length turns your giggle to a gasp. He takes his time working himself between your walls, allowing you to feel every single inch of him as he pushes deeper and deeper until he eventually bottoms out with a groan. "Stars above you're so- warm." He pants out. He's not moving, you realize, waiting for you to adjust so you tilt your hips forward, grinding against him impatiently.

"Loki please- move." You mewl and that's all it takes. Loki's hips knock back and he drives into you with full force, setting an even pace of deep thrusts meant for you to feel every drag of his dick against your walls.

"This- I'm sure, is Valahala." Loki pants out as he's fucking into you.

"So good- Loki it feels so good." You slip your hands into his shirt, dragging your nails across his back.

"I know my darling. I know." Loki hisses at the sweet sting from your claws. His rhythm doesn't falter as you cling to him, in fact, the feel of your hands against his skin sets Loki alight. You moan breathily, relishing in the way Loki fucks into you almost wildly. The heat of your walls is dizzying and Loki can already feel his release creeping down his spine. He slips a hand between your bodies and finds your clit, rubbing circles against the bundle of nerves. Your back arches as a whimper falls from your lips, the extra stimulation quickly bringing you closer.

"Loki-" You whine.

"Let go for me love. Show me how good I make you feel. Let your release coat my dick." Loki coaxes as his fingers dance along your clit as if he's already worked out all your right buttons to push.

"Oh my g-" You gasp out as your orgasm hits you like a wave crashing.

"Beautiful." Loki breathes. "I could watch you do that a thousand times and never tire of the face you make in ecstasy."

"Your turn now sweetie, show me what face you make in ecstasy Loki." You say gently, one hand threading into his hair. With your encouragement, it doesn't take much more for Loki's hips to stutter as his orgasm means the flooding of your walls in liquid heat.

You both lie still for some time, Loki only half holding himself up to avoid crushing you on the couch. You really can't believe the grumpy god that would straight up disappear if you so much as tapped his shoulder is currently lying in your arms. He can hardly believe it himself, but it's as soothing as he could have hoped. Not that he'd- ever admit that.

***

[weneepie]

missing hours w/ wolverine rules | m.list

note. hiii it's my first time posting in here so please be nice with me :( I had this idea with logan for a while so, I hope you'll enjoy it!! please feel free to request <3

The Wolverine. He was a legend, one of the XMen ; actually, he was the XMen. A rude man who lived thousands of years and who seemed to not care about anyone or anything. And there he was, completely pathetic at this bar. Sitting at the counter, he was drinking and making himself miserable. The reason was simple : you weren’t here anymore. It was more than enough to drink until he couldn’t think straight anymore. 

Logan never thought he would care enough about someone to go this far, but apparently he was wrong. God knows how many times he laughed at Scott’s face because of his relationship with Jean ; and yet he was no better himself. A long sigh left his lips as he closed his eyes, your face almost immediately coming back to his mind. You were like a virus invading his brain. 

You were sleeping when you heard your phone ringing. You cursed silently at your own stupidity for not turning it off, grabbing the device to answer the call without even looking at who was calling. “What is it?” You asked, voice half asleep, slowly rubbing your eyes to try to emerge a little. 

When he heard your voice from the other side of the phone, he felt his heart pounding in his chest. He almost forgot how soft you sounded when you were waking up. He stayed silent for a while, maybe a bit too long because you started to talk again, waiting for an answer. 

“It’s Logan,” he said, and it made you stop in a second. A sigh left his lips before he kept on explaining himself. “I don’t have a reason… Guess I needed to hear your voice, bub.” The silence after his words made him feel a hint of embarrassment. He felt a bit stupid right now ; maybe calling you wasn’t a good idea. Well, of course it wasn’t but… 

“You shouldn’t be calling me,” you started, and it broke his heart. He knew you were right. It was more than obvious that he should not have called. Not tonight, and not ever. Yet, he wasn’t able to forget you. You were occupying his mind all the freaking time and it was driving him crazy. He cleared his throat, to make clear that he was still on the other side of the phone. 

“You’re drunk, Logan,” you said, way too softly for him to handle it correctly. “You’re going to regret this in the morning.” This time, your words hit him like a truck. Regret? No, it was impossible. It was the last thing he could ever think about it towards you. “Never. There’s no way I’d ever regret talking to you.” 

It had no sense, all of this. This situation was far from making any sense. How did you end up with your ex boyfriend sitting on your couch, drunk enough to do any stupid decision passing through his mind. You were sitting next to him, the air thick and the tension more than present between the two of you. You didn’t even know what you offered him to come so late. 

Logan cleared his throat before his eyes met your profile, taking a look at you. It’s been so long since he saw you from this close, it was almost like a fever dream for him. “Listen, I…” He started but, when your eyes met his gaze, the words got caught in his throat. 

“I miss you. Every single day, and every single night. No matter what I’m doing, I just miss you all the time.” You started to say, and he felt a hint of hope inside of his chest. So he wasn’t the only one with those feelings? You were living it just like he was himself? So why does something felt so off? He couldn’t understand it. 

“But we can’t do this anymore. We’re hurting each other Logan, and you know it,” you slowly grabbed his calloused hand between your two delicate ones. He could tell how you felt just by looking into your eyes ; he was reading you like you were an open book. It was way too obvious for him, so hearing those words coming out of your mouth was a pure torture. 

Logan seemed to be searching for his words. The so confident Wolverine was a mess when he was trying to make up things with you. “We were too young, and…” You didn’t give him the opportunity to finish his sentence, a slight chuckle leaving your lips. “Young? You know damn well that the problem isn’t here.” Oh yes, he knew itt. You yelled at him more than enough to understand where it was ; but he wasn’t able to do anything about it. 

“Nothing makes sense if you’re not here. Come on bub, don’t tell me I’m wrong.” Of course he wasn’t wrong. In fact, he had never been more right in his entire life. You came a little bit closer, not thinking too much as you left a kiss against his cheek. The moment after, you were standing up from the couch. You looked at him, and the soft smile on your lips destroyed everything in his chest.

“You can sleep here tonight,” you told him, and Logan understood that the conversation was done for the night. He took a sip of water from his glass before looking back at you for a moment, the corners of his lips slightly rising in a discrete smile.  

“Good night bub,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Good night Logan”, and at those words, you disappeared from his vision in a second. It was easier that way. He was way too drunk to have any serious conversation anyway. So you left him on the couch without saying anything more. 

He thought about it, about you until he fell asleep. He didn't know where it would be going, but he had this hint of hope in the heart. Who knows, maybe tomorrow was another day.

thank you for reading!

[gothgleek]

could i maybe request angus x female reader blurb where they are both the last left holding over and are left to their own devices after sharing a infirmary room with no privacy for 2 weeks?? maybe someone walks in on the other or something

Omg this is my first Ask request💕 I hope you enjoy, I finished this while wrote it while I was stuck in traffic because I wanted to finish it before my birthday. Also this is a little longer than a blurb j hope you don’t mind 😅

Notes: Minors DNI, AFAB/cis girl reader, Angus is a munch, overstimulation, oral sex, ignoring religious guilt, minor religious kink, reader can be interpreted as a virgin, mentions of toys, getting caught, both parties are 18+

You never considered yourself to be a terribly horny person, not when St. Agatha’s Boarding School for Young Ladies kept your schedule busy and your roommates always around. But staying there over the winter break with only yourself and the hitachi toy your roommate gifted you as company? Yeah, you might as well have possessed by a lust demon.

But then Mother Superior had to go and break her leg, forcing you out of your masturbation marathon and take shelter at the boys’ school on the other side of town without your new best friend. (If you were a god-fearing woman, you would blame yourself for her accident.)

Unfortunately, even while rooming at Barton you could not escape your constant state of arousal. The unexpected attractiveness of your new roommate. Angus Tully did not make it easy either.

You tried numerous things to keep the monster at bay- sneaking off to the laundry room, using the shower head, your own hands- but nothing felt as good as your hitachi. Heck, you even started to have sex dreams about Angus but even that didn’t help your state of arousal. You were beginning to see why the nuns said the ongoing sexual revolution is a mistake.

That was until he walked in on you masturbating.

The both of you froze, him in the doorway, you on your bed humping your pillow.

“Um…” Angus swallowed. “Do you need a hand with that?”

You blamed your constant state of arousal and the fact that Angus wasn’t terrible looking (damn your weakness for his big eyes, nose, and curly hair.)

Your eyes grazed down to his broken arm. “I guess one extra hand wouldn’t hurt.” You said jokingly. “But you need to get me dinner after this, I can't have you thinking I’m easy. The nuns would kill me.”

You leaned back on your bed, your pillow under your hips and nightgown bunched around your waist. Rather than take his pants off, Angus knelt in front of you.

“I was actually sent here to get you for dinner but I think I’m gonna just have you instead,” Angus said while slowly peeling off your panties with his good hand. You made a sound of confusion and he looked up at you. “I don’t have a condom on me. I can’t have the nuns get mad at me.”

With that, he moved forward and gave your pussy a curious lick. You jumped at the foreign feeling. You didn’t know boys did that.

You closed your legs on instinct but Angus used his good hand to keep you open. He didn’t look strong but his big hand holding you open, you couldn’t help but melt.

Your moans were muffled as you held your hands over them but Angus was able to hear you well enough to navigate between your legs, giving extra attention to the spots you moaned the loudest. With days of pent up arousal and interrupted pillow time, it didn’t take long for you to cum.

Angus let you relax into the bed before speaking up again. You recognized the look on his face as a combination of cockiness and curiosity.

“You know you talk in your sleep?”

“Huh?” Your brain was still under that post-orgasm haze. “I do?”

“Quite a lot actually.” Angus told you with a smirk as he began fingering your sensitive pussy. You tried to close your legs but Angus used his shoulders to keep you open. “Just last night you were moaning my name. Wanna tell me what you were dreaming of?”

“I….” You said distractedly. “I don’t remember.”

“I don’t believe you,” Angie smirked. “You don’t have to be shy anymore, I already ate your pussy. Tell me.”

His fingers curled inside you and you let out a strangled moan. He seriously expected you to think under these circumstances?

“I…fuck… I just dreamed you had me bent over in the confessions booth,” You managed to choke out. “One hand was around my throat.”

“That’s certainly very sinful of you,” Angus mused as his thumb began rubbing your clit. “What else?”

“I woke up before I could finish.”

“Well you’ve had other dreams, like I said you talked a lot these last few nights.”

“I…” Your hips began bucking. “I’m getting close again.”

Was this really all it took after all these days?

“Keep talking and I’ll let you cum,” Angus said, rubbing a little harder.

“Oh um… fuck…” You tried to search through your memories as you felt your orgasm build up. “I dreamt of the two of us at the… fucking… the fucking spring fling.” You fisted the sheets in frustration and he pressed a gentle kiss to the inside of your knee.

“Go on.”

“I dragged you to a classroom and I was wearing… I was wearing a lavender dress… you pushed it up and started fucking me…”

“How did I fuck you?”

You let out a groan. “Please I’m so close!” You protested quietly.

“I wanna hear more first.” He added another finger.

“My legs were over your shoulders and I was lying on the teacher’s desk…You were grabbing my boobs…” His thumb was moving faster and that pressure in your stomach was reaching its peak. “Frank Sinatra was playing… is that enough detail for you?”

Angus didn’t respond, simply moving faster. With his brown eyes staring you down with a cocky smile, you couldn’t help but buck your hips up and cum with a moan.

Angus slowed his fingers and began pressing kisses down your thighs.

“What are you doing?” This bastard wanted to go again?

“I just wanted to see what you looked like before I tasted you again,” Angus disappeared between your legs and you felt him lapping at the wetness between your legs.

“Angus,” you hissed and you tried to push his head away. You couldn’t take more of this. You were about to melt into the mattress. Then you felt his tongue lapping up your wetness from the source. You moaned loudly and pulled your hands away from his hair to cover your mouth.

You bucked your hips up and tried to push him away but Angus just grabbed your thigh and pulled you back to him. He didn’t look strong but your body also couldn’t decide if it wanted to run away or run towards his mouth.

“Don’t run away from me,” Angus warned with a lustful look in his eye. He returned between your legs.

Angus pressed his tongue into you, as deep as it could go until his nose began rubbing against your clit. You began grinding against him, one hand leaving your mouth to pull him closer by his hair.

It took you a little longer to cum again but somehow Angus managed to pull a third one out of you. Your hand gave a final tug of his hair as your hips lifted upwards and you grabbed the sheets to let out a loud moan. To his credit, Angus didn’t cease his movements, letting you ride his tongue until you collapsed against the mattress.

While the two of you caught your breathes, someone knocked on the door while opening it. Angus shot away from between your legs and you did your best to sit up and cover yourself.

Not that it did much to convince Mr. Hunham, who walked in and immediately raised a brow at your guilty expression. Then he looked at Angus and saw the state of his hair and the mess you had left on his face. Mr. Hunham rubbed his face in an attempt to calm himself.

“Go to dinner,” Mr. Hunham gestured for you to get out of the room.

“Mr. Tully, a word.” He said sternly.

——

Two hours later, Angus comes back to your room, cleaned up with a small smirk on his face.

“I think it’s time for you to return the favor,” Angus rose told his feet and unbuckled his belt. His hard, weeping cock popped out and you couldn’t help but gulp.

“I’m not getting any sleep tonight,” you thought with tired glee.

[babygorewhore]

Unrequited Love

You’ve been best friends with Rafe Cameron since childhood and you have deep feelings for him you can’t control. But when you tell him, it goes horribly wrong.

So I was in a car accident today and this idea hit me. Warnings! Angst! Hurtcomfort! Car crash! Injury and violence! W.C over 2k

Rafe Cameron only had a soft spot for one person. And that was you. Unfortunately, he only saw you as a friend. His best friend at that. You had known him since you were in kindergarten and grown up together. You were in college now while he ran the Cameron empire. So he didn't have as much time for you. But before then, you were always at his house. At his parties. At the beach.

And you were madly in love with him.

You loved his personality as insane as he was, his charm and his protectiveness. You felt like you were the only one he liked. His ray of sunshine. Or figuratively sometimes.

But he never seemed to meet your emotions. The times where he had stayed over, he slept on the floor or the couch. Or vice Versa when you pretended you wanted a sleepover with Sarah, he left you to your own devices.

He was hot and cold. Sometimes he was affectionate. Slinging an arm over your shoulder. A hand on your back as he moved past. Or right now. At this party. He wasn’t paying any attention as he entertained a girl feet away from you. She swayed her hips as she threw her head back in a laugh. Everyone was having a good time. Drinking. Snorting something in the corner while you were standing alone watching him be with someone else.

You had dressed up in his favorite colored dress and heels. Your hair was down and makeup accentuated your eyes that you hoped one day he noticed. But he didn’t.

You gathered your purse, deciding to go home and you ignored the ache in your chest and turned. But you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Rafe stood in his shorts and black and white shirt. His hair was mused and you noticed lipstick staining his lips. “Hey, are you leaving already? What’s going on?”

You didn’t know what overcame you but tears pricked your eyes and you cleared your throat. “Yes. I’m going home.”

“What? Why? Are you sick?”

“No, rafe. I’m not sick.” You gritted out. A slew of emotions hitting you. Anger. Jealousy as you watched the girl impatiently look at you both from the corner.

“Then-“

His hand went to touch you when you moved away. You remembered all the times you comforted him while he talked about his father and the weight of being the eldest. The times where he felt burdened and where he would sometimes sweep you into his arms whenever the roles were reversed. Even as a Pogue, he still treated you fairly.

The necklace you wore, it was a small gem of your birthstone that he got you as a high school graduate present and you actually accepted the expensive token. You subconsciously touched it and moved away from him. “Rafe, I can’t pretend anymore.”

Rafe eyebrows moved together as you cleared your throat.

“I can’t pretend that it doesn’t bother me that you’re with her. When I’m always here. And you ignore me sometimes. It hurts my feelings. I mean you’re my best friend. We’ve always been around each other-“

“Whoa, why are you being so clingy? It’s not like you’re my girlfriend. This isn’t anything more than that. You know I don’t date.” Rafe’s words cut you like a knife as you clutched at your stomach.

“That can’t be true. You can’t tell me it’s never crossed your mind. Rafe, come on. Please at least hear me out-“

“I can’t fucking do this right now. It’s a party for god's sake. Why are you being so dramatic? So what? It’s a crush. You don’t need to do all of this.” Rafe snapped and started to turn. “Now I’m gonna go back and let you clear your head.”

“It’s not a fucking crush, I love you!” You yelled at him before clapping a hand over your mouth with wide eyes.

“Then you’re an idiot.” Rafe realized too late what he said as people faced your direction with pity in their eyes before a few snickered at your expense.

Your chin trembled but you refused to cry in front of all these Kooks. “Fuck you.” You said slowly and turned.

You ran out to your car after kicking off your shoes and he didn’t even bother calling out to you as you reached your car. You slammed the door and immediately felt hot tears staining your cheeks. You set your phone down and started playing music as you drove through the incoming storm. You started crying harder as a favorite song of yours came on. That perfectly describes your feelings for Rafe and the time he saw a guy messing with you.

He saw him grab your ass. Rafe had beat the shit out of him telling him to stay away from you. He was always doing that. Telling you to stop being around men who were beneath you. And now you completely humiliated yourself with his harsh words. Of course he didn’t love you back. He never said that.

As you drove through a green light, you saw another car speeding through a red one through the intersection. You froze knowing that he wasn’t going to stop and you felt the crash first, slamming against your car as you felt yourself slam against the door, hitting your head. You saw stars as you slid across the road, your entire body on fire as your seatbelt snapped and the strap cut against your skin. The passenger window shattered and you felt glass hit your body as you were pushed against a tree.

Your vision went dark briefly as another car came to a stop. You could barely move. You didn’t know if anything was broken as blood dripped from your head and nose from your face hitting the steering wheel airbag.

“Ma’am! Oh Jesus! I’m calling the police right now!” A female voice was by your window and you lucidly looked at her.

“I’m in-im hurt.” You managed and glanced at your shattered phone. Rafes contact was ringing but you couldn’t move your arm to reach.

The pain hit you as the other car sped off, leaving you in a heap as you waited.

“Yes. She’s a young woman. It was a hit and run. Yes. She’s hurt. Badly. I don’t think she can move. Please hurry! Should I get her out?”

The woman’s voice faded as you passed out.

“Get the fuck out of my way!” You snapped awake at the sound of a booming voice. “Of course I know her. She’s-she’s my best friend. She doesn’t have any family here!”

It was Rafe.

You were in the hospital bed, a cast on your arm and a gown. You had a few bandages on your face as you blinked. You had dozed on and off as the police came and took your statement and insurance information.

They gave you a few mild pain killers for the broken bones as they tried to find you a ride home. The sweet older woman who had called stayed with you. Her name was Julie as she rushed into your room, pulling the curtain back.

“There’s a man demanding to see you. Says his name is Rafe Cameron.”

You tensed and shook your head. Tears streaming down your face from the horrors of your accident and heartbreak. “No. Tell him to go away.”

“Go away?” He came in then, moving past Julie and he looked horrible. His eyes were a blaze of rage and fear as he took in your state. His clothes got wet from the rain.

“Oh my god, he could have fucking killed you.” He rushed to your side as you looked at him with cold eyes.

“And why are you here?” You snapped. He pulled back.

“You were in an accident. Of course I’m here. She answered the phone for you when they pulled you out. And I’m-“

“Get out!” You yelled at him, sitting up despite the pain. “I’ve heard enough from you today. I don’t have time to get my heart broken again.”

“Wait-“ Rafe held his hands up.

“NO! I’ve waited already. I’ve waited for years for you to admit you felt the same way when you embarrassed me. You completely hurt me when you said I was being clingy. If anything, you are. I have been by your side for years. Always putting you first. Because I love you. And that’s why I did everything. Why I put up with your bullshit. Your fighting. The way you’ve treated people. I can’t deal with it. I could have died rafe and I would rather sit here alone in pain than be near you.”

Rafe’s own eyes welled with tears. “Please. I’m so sorry-“

“I don’t care.” You whispered icily. “Get. Out.”

And he did.

He left.

“Oh sweetheart…” Julie said. After being silent during the entire exchange. “I’m sorry, my dear.”

Hours went by as you wept into your pillow. Hating yourself for telling him off but you had to have self respect. You had to stay strong. You couldn’t let him think it was okay to speak to you that way. Even if you loved him.

What you didn’t expect was the man you loved to come back in, it was well past visiting hours but you didn’t doubt he probably paid someone off. Rafe held a pair of clothes, one was his shirt and your pair of pants. He had been in your apartment. He set them gently on the chair. He had changed and he interrupted you from fully losing your temper.

“Listen. I am so sorry for what I did. There’s no excuse for that. But I can’t leave you. Not again. I’m gonna fight for you just like you’ve always done for me. When my shit dad hurt me and you threatened him. The way you slapped rose in the face. You’ve alway been there for me. And-“ Rafe moved slowly over to you.

“I never said because I felt like I didn’t deserve you. I’ve never had someone love me and I was selfish. I never said how much you meant to me because I was afraid I would always end up losing you. It’s not an excuse but-I love you too.”

You sniffled as you processed what he said. Your heart was still broken as you laid in the hospital bed. Broken arm but something about him made you resist screaming at him again. But you couldn’t let him off the hook so easily.

“What did you do when you left?”

“I found that motherfucker and had him arrested.” Rafe said unapologetically. “I also beat the shit out of him.”

“Rafe!” You cried out and he held a finger to his lips.

“He deserved more, baby. For hurting you. I’d never let anyone get away from that. Even myself.” He sank to his knees on your side of the bed. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I swear to god, I’ll never do that again. I promise.”

He was fully crying now, something he never did in front of anyone. But you were still so tired. Tired of getting your hopes up.

“Rafe-you know I love you. But I’m scared you don’t mean it.” You said thickly as you tried to reel in emotions as he took your uninjured hand.

“I do mean it. I know I fucked up. But I won’t ever do that again, baby girl. I love you. And I’m so glad you’re okay. I was so scared you were going to, I can’t even say the words.” Rafe pleaded with you.

Finally, you nodded. “It’ll take some time but I do forgive you.” Because you always would. He was everything to you.

He breathed a sigh of relief and leaned forward. He pressed a gentle kiss to your head a few times.

“Ouch.” You giggled and he gasped.

“Sorry. I got a little too excited.” You leaned up and kissed him on the lips gingerly.

“Come here.” You made room and he laid next to you as best as his large body could. You ignored the discomfort as you felt him lightly as he possibly could stroke your hair.

It wasn’t perfect. And he would have to prove it.

But you did believe him.

@xxbutdaddyilovehimxx @xxhellfirebunnyxx @drewstarkeyslut @slvt4jamesmarch @marchsfreakshow @lesservillain @take-everything-you-can @emsgoodthinkin @redhead1180 @imyourdaninow

[heavenlyhischier]

can we get Z discovering Mark and reader please, I love reading traumatized Trev

honestly this was loosely inspired by something that happened to me so enjoy ahahahah.

kinda sucks but here’s a lil blurb of trev accidentally finding out about you and mark 🫢

Your fingers dragged across Mark’s chest, delicately tracing over the bruises splotched across his skin. You had a mischievous smile on your face as you admired your work, Mark’s hand staying on your hips while he watched you. Typically, you would try and avoid leaving any sort of mark on him because you didn’t want the boys to say anything about them in the locker room. Mark didn’t care about that, constantly telling you that no one was going to know they were from you, especially not your brother, and you finally let loose today.

“Take a picture. It’ll last longer,” He teased, squeezing the flesh on your hips.

“You know what? I think I will,” You moved your gaze up to his face, giving him a playful wink as you leaned over to grab your phone.

You were straddling his thighs, so you slightly leaned back and held your phone up and away from your own naked body as you snapped the picture. Just as you went to save the picture to your my eyes only in snapchat, Mark was tugging you back towards him and capturing your lips with his own. You groaned into his mouth, placing your phone back on the table it was on before. However, the picture of your boyfriend was still slapped on the screen.

“I gotta get ready for dinner with the boys,” Mark whispered against your lips, pulling away from you.

“You suck,” You grumbled, rolling off his body so he could get up to find his clothes.

He gave you a chaste kiss on the forehead, hauling himself out of your bed to get himself dressed. After relishing in the moment a bit longer, you followed his path and tugged your own clothes over your body. Mark had left the door open when he went to search for his shorts and shirt, and your roommate's cat took the opportunity to venture into the room. You didn’t mind him being in there, but you watched as he walked all over your phone before sitting directly on it.

“Murphy, get your ass off my phone,” You shooed the cat away, grabbing your phone. Going to wipe the cat hair off, your eyes widened as you stared at the screen. “Oh fuck. Oh my god. Oh my god!”

Mark slowly walked back into the room, brows pulled together as he was tugging his shorts back on, “What’s wrong?”

“The cat sent that fucking picture of you to twelve people, four of them being either my brothers or one of their friends,” You were frantically trying to delete the snapchat before anyone was able to open it, silently thanking the app for that update.

Your heart was racing, cheeks and necks red with embarrassment because of just how outrageous the situation is. After all the hard work you’ve put into keeping your relationship hidden from everyone, your roommate's cat was going to be the one to out you?

“How does that even happen,” He laughs as he picks up the cat, stroking his fur while you throw your phone on the bed, “What?”

“Trevor opened it before I could delete it,” Your face paled. Not even ten seconds later, the facetime ringtone was filling your room. “Should I answer it? I should, right?”

“That’s up to you, baby,” He used the cat to hide his amused face, ignoring the harsh glare you sent his way.

“I’m going to answer it. If I don’t he’ll say something to the boys,” You rationalized before hesitantly picking up the device.

“LITTLE HUGHES WHO WAS THAT,” Trevor screamed into the phone as soon as you answered, “WHY WAS HE NAKED?! YOU BETTER NOT BE HAVING SEX!”

“Trevor, stop yelling,” You cringed, from both the loud noise and the awkwardness of the situation, “I’m going to tell you, but you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone? Including my brothers. Especially my brothers.”

“Oooh, a secret,” His voice was calmer now, more intrigued and curious, “I like secrets.”

“Trevor, I’m serious. No one is allowed to know about this okay?”

He nodded his head, eyes wide and hungry for information. You begin recounting the events of your relationship with Mark, telling him that you both decided to keep it to yourself for a while because you didn't want your brothers to make it a big deal. Trevor listened intently the entire time, interrupting only a few times to ask questions, but he ultimately swore that he would do his best to keep your secret. Though , after you stared at him for a moment, he eventually agreed that his lips were going to remain sealed until you were ready to tell everyone.

“So, does this mean I don’t have a chance anymore?”

“Bye, Zegras,” Mark rolled his eyes.

[bunmurdock]

Another niche ask :p

Since we all know how sensitive Matt is I can’t help but think about him cumming untouched. I was watching a porn vid and it reminded me so much of Matt I just had to share 😚

The smallest things could bring him to an orgasm; the feeling of a gentle breeze brushing over his nipples and member, the lingering scent of your arousal in the air, the sound of your voice on his phone as you tell him about your day.

He’s ashamed of himself. Of how he’s desperately humping the air, his sweatpants pulled down to his mid thigh while his left hand rests against the cheap leather couch he’s sitting on, tightly gripping a pair of your damp underwear from the wet dream you had this morning. He doesn’t need to hold it up to his face to be able to smell it. Head tilted up towards the ceiling, right hand holding his phone to his ear, biting his lip to avoid whimpering. He’s so close—

“Matt? Are you even listening to me?”

It brings him back to reality, the orgasm that was bubbling in his stomach is slowly starting to subside. “Y-Yeah, yeah I’m listening sweetheart.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah no, no I promise everything’s fine. Just keep talking pup…” It was stupid to use that name, having immediately given away his intention for why he called you. You’re quiet, processing his words and putting together the puzzle pieces. You know what he’s doing. But instead of calling him out on it you continue, telling him about your plans for tomorrow and something funny a coworker said to you, and that’s what does it for him. Your laugh. It’s beautiful, and absolutely you. He clenches his jaw as he cums, painting his bare chest with his seed.

Didn’t mean to feature a sprinkle of phone sex/sub Matt but shit happens 😝

https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=65bf7331f1ee3

The link ^^^

-😼

OH MY GOD THE VIDEO FUCK.

okay okay so like. matt calling sweetgirl!reader, right? and you're totally unsuspecting, excitedly recounting the events of your day—where you went and what you did—asking for his opinions on random things. but today, he's less vocal than usual, just hums and nods along on the other side of the line. it isn't until the third "mhm. what else, sweetheart." that you catch on. i think it'd be so cute if reader were to be like "matt did you hear anything i said. wait, oh my god are you-" and when he groans an affirmation, she facepalms and hangs up, leaving him to his own devices until he cums hard playing back in his mind her voice crooning in his ear :3

share your mm thoughts

[mischiefandlies]

A lesson in culinary disasters...

Loki x Reader

Masterlist

Notes: Thor is the embodiment of the phrase "thirty going on three". Also, I really had to work to find things that could go wrong with making spaghetti. Luckily, I work with children, so know how sevearly idiotic people can be.

Warnings: nilt

Enjoy!

“There's spaghetti on my ceiling.”

Both Loki and Thor looked away sheepishly.

“WHY IN FUCKS NAME IS THERE SPAGHETTI ON MY CEILING?”

“… well, m’Lady-”

“Darling, I didn’t-”

“I left you two alone for ONE DAY!”

They each share a glance.

“What?” you say dryly.

Thor sighs and turns away, while Loki comes over to you. “My love, me and Thor will deal with this shenanigan. I promised I’d make you dinner, and I'll make you dinner. Just go and relax and I’ll come and get you when the time is right. Perhaps watch another one of those comedic films with Lang, the two of you seem to enjoy those.”

“Thought you got jealous when I watched movies with him?” you said.

“Angel, Lang couldn’t find a single hostage in training yesterday. If he is unable to locate a human sized test dummy, I don’t hold out much hope of him finding a clitoris. Besides,” he continues “I'm sure his penis is just as small as the rest of him.”

You just roll your eyes as he ushers you out the door. “And don’t burn my pans! And so help me God if you break my stove, I’m going to shove that blender straight up your-”

The front door slammed shut behind you. “Loki, I don’t think she is happy with us,” Thor stated. “I see very little chance of you being able to seduce her if you continue to act so childishly.”

“Remind me again who threw pasta at the ceiling?” Loki said through gritted teeth.

“Well, me, but Jane said it is important to use the pan to flip what you are cooking.”

“What Jane failed to mention, you ignorant buffoon, is that is for cooking pancakes.”

“Loki, pancakes are eggs and flour. Pasta, according to this detailed list on the packaging, is eggs and flour. I see no reason why the rules would change.”

Loki put his head in his hands. “Thor, how about I handle the cooking from now on?”

“And what are we making?”

“Spaghetti.”

“And balls of meat?”

“No Thor, just spaghetti.” Loki says, “Let’s not walk before we can run.”

Thor gasped. “But where are the balls of meat? Jane always makes balls of meat to go with spaghetti.”

“Thor, we have no meat.”

The blond just smirked. “I can assure you brother, I have plenty of meat. It is not my fault you are of such scrawny, runt-like nature. Why, do you not remember in our youth when we would play, and you would always…”

Loki left him to his prattling, and used his magic to clean the kitchen, remove the strands of spaghetti from the ceiling, and refill the kettle. He had wanted to make you something homemade, and so had asked his brother to assist, thinking Jane would have taught him something. Unfortunately, Thor was even less equipped to be sue-chef than him. Since you had left them to their own devices, they had made your kettle explode, set off the fire alarm, and Thor had cut his hand. They had since given up on making a tomato sauce and had lowered their standards enough to consider plain spaghetti a meal.

“Thor, snap the spaghetti in half and put it in the pot.”

Thor picked up a handful of spaghetti and instead of holding it in the middle, he took it by the ends, snapping it in front of him and spraying the kitchen in broken spaghetti pieces. His brother just looked on, muttering insults in their mother tongue. He took a pot down and filled it with the water out the kettle while Thor scuttled around on all fours picking up shards of pasta.

“Thor, for the love of all things holy, just put the spaghetti in the pan.”

Thor turns to the pot on the stove, and sticks his fist full of spaghetti into the boiling water, completely submerging his hand.

“AAAAH LOKI MAKE IT STOP”

“Take your hand out the pan Thor.”

Thor flings his arm up, spilling the boiling water all down himself.

“LOKI IT BURNS!!!!”

“Of course it does, its boiling water.”

“FIX IT.”

“No.”

“LOKI I AM KING OF ASGARD. YOU ARE UNDER OBLIGATION TO HELP ME. YOU WILL FIX THIS THIS INSTANT.”

“Thor, as the prince of Asgard, I am not obligated to do shit. Perhaps do as the Midgardians do when they are burnt. Run it under cold water.”

Loki turned away to magic up the complete shambles his brother had managed to achieve (again), and –for the fifth time today- boiled the kettle to make pasta. Thor had clearly misinterpreted his instruction, because he was running the pan under the tap.

“Loki, I fail to see how this is helping, I am still in a great deal of pain-”

The dark-haired god swiped the pan back. “Your arm, you utter cretin. Run the cold tap and hold your ARM under the water.”

Having distracted his brother enough to successfully put spaghetti on to boil, he began to grate some cheese.

“LOKI, I WANTED TO DO THAT.”

“You’d get blood in the cheese.”

“I won’t. I promise. Pleeeeeeaseee?”

“Fine.”

Thor enthusiastically leaps over to grate the cheese, while Loki stirs, drains and dishes out the pasta. In this time, not only has Thor zested the cheese instead of grating it, he has also zested a whole block of cheese and the top layer of skin on his fingers. The cheese was completely sodden with blood.

"Thor, what did I just say?"

"Pretend it's tomato sauce brother? She will never know!"

When you finally return from Langs, you find Loki, Thor, Strange, and Stranges medical kit all sat on your sofa. Thor's entire arm is bandaged, and Wanda and Steve are chatting away in your kitchen, making something that smells delicious.

“Fucksake Loki.”

“I’m sorry darling.” he says, “I tried, I really tried, but it just never worked, and I-”

“I know, love,” you cut him off. “Just tell me if you need cooking lessons, yeah? I can’t say I’m fond of coming home to find my kitchen in a disaster. I’ve just had a long day. I shouldn't've snapped. I’m sorry.”

He wraps you up in his arms. “Me too love.”

“Lo?”

“Yes sweetheart?”

“Have you ever heard of take away?”