#You're only enabling my brainrot

[pastelaspirations]

IT'S FINE. I'M NOT GOING TO HURT YOU, I'M JUST INVADING YOUR HOUSE IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT TO FORCE YOU TO TALK ABOUT YOUR LIL GUY, PERFECTLY NORMAL BEHAVIOR-

ANYWAY, I'M SCREAMING. THANK YOU, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR RAMBLING, I AM EATING YOUR WORDS WITH GREAT ENTHUSIASM. ANGEL LITERALLY LOOKS SO FREAKING CUTE IN THAT SKETCH AND I FREAKING LOVE HER SO FREAKING MUCH, I'M NOT OKAY-

YEE. So, people call me Pastel! :D And that's what I uh... respond to, so uh... I guess that's what I'm called?? Like, I didn't decide that myself, but it's literally just my name now so-

EEEEEEEEEEUUUUUGGGHH, ALRIGHT, YOU ASKED FOR IT. Once I draw my freaking blorbos and infodump about them, I'll tag you, but m a n, that might be a poor decision in foresight because I literally don't know when to stop talking, man

I'M ALSO JUST. FROTHING AT THE MOUTH. DON'T GIVE ME IDEAS, MAN. I DON'T NEED TO IMAGINE MY LIL OCS AS BEING BUDDIES WITH YOUR CUTIE 'CUS IT'S. NOT GOOD FOR MY MENTAL BRAIN ROT RN- (I'm imagining so many scenarios right now of them being buddies, what did you do to me)

Also, I'm just s t a r i n g. THANK YOU, AAAUUUGGH, THIS IS SO GOOD, MAN. THE BACKSTORY IS ABSOLUTE BANGER, I AM SERIOUS. THAT IS SOME GOOD STUFF RIGHT THERE-

Like, you don't understand. Psychological horror and religious trauma?? Those are my j a m. I FREAKING LOVE THOSE THINGS SO MUCH. Ooooohhh my goodness, Reverencetale sounds like such a neat concept, man, I'm not even kidding. It's so creative and interesting, oh my gosh. And poor little Angel, man. She has to deal with so much religious trauma and the ingrained beliefs that it's better to die young and innocent than live long enough to make mistakes and become "impure." Then, he gets ripped out of his world and has his mind warped from the revelation of the multiverse... Uuuugghhh, it's so good, I promise you, I'm actually invested and interested in your au's story <3

I understand being worried about rambling about it though! I was scared before I made my au basically. It is a scary thing making your own au and worrying about how people might react to it. It could turn out to be positive though! I'm writing a fic about mine and flash forward to today, it's my most popular fic and I actually have a fanbase for it now ✧˖°. So you never know, you could ramble about it and get genuine fans for your own au! :D I know I'm already interested!

YEEEEEEE, AND ANGEL'S FAVORITE COLOR BEING PINK IS AWESOME, MAN. Angel's literally so precious. She's dressed so preciously and sweet with all her pink, ribbons, feathers and bells, I love her design so much ;_; (Also, just the lil human, May, being deaf is such a sweet idea. We need more deaf characters in the world <3)

Also, I'm just wheezing. The evil hemangioma is like. So funny and glorious, man. It reminds me of those evil swords in DnD or something. That is such an amazing character concept, I love it-

ALRIGHT, THANK YOU, THANK YOU. I LOVED YOUR RAMBLE. I ATE IT UP. AND F I N E. I GUESS IT'S ONLY FAIR. When I make my ref sheets for my ocs, I'll tag you. YOU'LL BE THE FIRST TO KNOW, OKAY, STOP SHAKING ME, I PROMISE, YOU'RE MAKING ME DIZZY, S T O P-

Also, just.

I have a knack for that weirdly enough. Getting people to care and find newfound love and appreciation for the thing/idea they were unsure about.

AND YOU SHOULD. ANGEL IS A FREAKING SWEETIE PIE AND REVERENCETALE IS AN ACTUALLY BANGER IDEA. I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL-

Did I ever show you guys my Sansona ,, kind of ??

I forget that I ever have one of these , I don’t ever use him - I tried to put him in an au once and it didn’t work out

⚠️ WARNING . Blood and . Hemangiomas ? Blood tumors . There’s an evil blood tumor under the cut !! You’ve been warned !!

[kairiscorner]

Hey! I'm sorry, I saw you wanted Haikyuu requests and my brainrot is plaguing me with this though.

Ok so, imagine with me: You are dating Asahi or Kita and whereas he is calm at times. You are the complete opposite! You're basically climbing walls, biting him and sometimes jumping on him at random times.

I'm sorry I just love the idea of a calm man and feral partner or maybe it's just self indulgent

OMGGGGGGG YES PLEASE, THEY'RE MY DARLINGS AND THEY WOULD BE ABSOLUTELY SMITTEN WITH A PARTNER LIKE THAT IMO also i'm sorry i defaulted the reader to be fem, this just struck me as a wonderful idea to make pt 2 of "his girl"! though i will give them they/them pronouns, unless you'd like for me to change it!

his girl. (part 2)

summary: nobody would have thought that your chaotic ass could be dealt with; well, one can only be surprised at the fact that he's able to be the mediator to your chaos... or, rather, the enabler (sometimes!) he just can't say no to you, his cute little partner.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ asahi azumane

many would be surprised to see this mature looking high school third year, a giant of a high school third year, actually having a soft heart underneath all his muscles and intimidating looks. he was just the sweetest, and you could vouch for it—because he really had a hard time saying no to you and your antics.

sure, you were smaller than him (and the much cuter one in the relationship, in his eyes) though you were like a firecracker; going off whenever everyone least expected it and just doing what you wanted at any given time.

sugawara and daichi were always worrying for the big man, he was responsible, though when handling you, he'd melt into a big puddle of shyness and utter affection whenever you'd peck a kiss on his cheek or give him a hug. you could never keep your hands off him, to the point that when you were being so clingy to him one time, he came into practice looking all bashful, with you riding on his back, gently biting at his reddening cheeks that just kept blushing due to how cute and loving you were being to him.

he can never get used to how much love your smaller self had for him, he can't take all the love you could give, though he was always willing to take it all and give you all of his love for you. you always surprised him with how hyper you could be, but that was part of the wonderful, lovable package that was you.

"i know, they can get... a bit too much sometimes, but i love them like that, and that'll never change." he'd gush to sugawara and daichi, to which they'd nod and sigh. 'he's completely smitten with them, isn't he?'

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ shinsuke kita

to faze kita is to be an absolutely feral person that nobody, not even the miya twins, could rival in having the most ridiculous antics; and that person was... of course, you. he was a straightforward, seemingly perfect, honors student; the no-nonsense captain of inarizaki's male volleyball team, and, surprisingly, your boyfriend.

he does everything on his own time, everything for every hour of every day had a schedule—everything was predictable because everything has a natural flow to follow, kita believed, until you came into his life and turned his oh-so organized life upside down. your chaotic nature could not be controlled, kita could only do so much to keep you in check—such as personally attending to you whenever he can to make sure you didn't do anything rash nor hurt yourself by accident.

he was always a worrier, much like daichi, and he could never settle down to think until you were safe and sound, not causing any chaos nor finding yourself in any chaos. he did respect your independence and never sought to control your actions, though all he hoped to teach you was self-control and moderation, that you can be as chaotic as you want with him, but make sure not to hurt others nor yourself when doing so.

he has said to you before, you can do whatever you feel like with him, just make sure not to hurt yourself or others—so you did just what you felt like doing when kita was mopping the floors of the gym. you rushed up to him, screamed his name all loudly and sweetly, and jumped on his back. gin, aran, suna, and the twins were there when it happened, and of course, they were all partially shocked to see that kita didn't budge at you lunging at him.

suna filmed you kissing down his neck as kita held your legs in place so you wouldn't fall, and steadied your grasp on him. "my love, i did say you could do what you want with me, but what i meant by that was behind closed doors." he reminded you with a stern, yet soft, voice. he could never raise his voice, especially not towards you, his beloved. mopping the floors would have to be rescheduled for later in the day, looks like right now, kita would be taking you outside to piggy back ride you as you smothered him with all your affection. the most unpredictable part of his days are always with you; they're always the most exciting part of his days.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

the baftas: my eyes need bleach after the livestream chat.

I SAID I WOULD COME TO TUMBLR AND SLUT-SHAME ALL OF YOU, AND YOU BET YOUR GODDAMN BILDADDY I'M HERE TO DO IT. First, a huge thank you to @good-usernames-were-taken, Valerie, for enabling this entire chaos and streaming it. And of course to Disappointment the Main Maggot.

Second, as per requests from you maggots, I have to give an honourary mention to the tragic lack of an emotional support gaseous orange, the late half-eaten packet of Lays on my desk, and my nearly empty can of Monster energy. Idk either, you asked for the mentions you got them.

Without further ado, presenting the BAFTA Awards 2024:

I am busy drawing out the neckline stitches of Crowley's wedding dress, when I am reminded of the stream and I crash into it midway. Little do I know what I am getting into.

Everyone is here for David Tennant. No one is here for the actual awards. This is made very clear very quickly.

KNEES. JUST KNEES. ALL EVERYONE TALKS ABOUT, THROUGHOUT THE STREAM, IS DAVID TENNANT'S KNEES. ARE YOU ALL OKAY WHAT THE FRESH HELL.

For context, David is in a kilt for the first half. I finally see why my relatives disapprove of skirts above knee-length. I never knew humanity's unholy worship of knees till I came here.

SOMEONE ASKS IF DAVID HAS TANNED HIS KNEES. MAGGOTS. PLEASE.

We interrupt our regular scheduled program of David knees to have an intense discussion about British versus French humour, and the misgendering of croissants.

RDJ wins an award and calls his wife his Alpha and Omega.

We're back to the knees. I can't handle how slutty David's knees are, says a worthy maggot.

This goes into a discussion about tickets for David's Macbeth, because, you guessed it, the kilt and the knees.

A lot of gorgeous and talented women in the BAFTAs tonight. I am floored.

I am not allowed to dwell in my awe because the chat is not a place of the lord. Curtain calls of Macbeth are discussed with unnecessary lasciviousness.

Thankfully, in the midst of this, I get a great Zodiac pattern reference for Crowley's wedding dress cummerbund. I was going to have to research the night sky for star charts but this is better.

People show their beautiful brainrot-induced Doc Marten purchases.

The knee thirst has moved into X-rated territory. I am terrified.

A song is sung in memory of film industry people who passed away this year, and people are sad about Dumbledore but at the same time are imagining Aziraphale and Crowley dancing to the song. The brainrot is real.

I accidentally spoil Saltburn's freakshow for someone. When I ask how I can make up for it, they say something about GOAD. I'm alarmed. Is that an OnlyFans, I ask. It's Good Omens After Dark, the chat answers. Is THAT an OnlyFans, I ask. Close enough, the chat says.

David has now changed outfits to a suit, which finally makes people pay attention to the BAFTAs, if only to alternatively thirst over the suit and bemoan the loss of knees.

Things, uh, happen, which I will have to include as quotes in another post. Cheers, @thearoacemess and @vitrilol.

Barty Crouch Jr is debated about as the Wolfstar child. Bratty Crouch Jr is said to be Crowley.

I obtain a banana, which I associate with blowjobs.

@thearoacemess talks about someone deepthroating a seven-inch banana without a hitch.

The stream does a flashback to the kilt time. It is a mistake. @queermarzipan barrels in and is being too slutty about the knees.

I tell them they need jesus, and they yell about how they've gone to mass twice today and they're an atheist.

Thankfully, @vitrilol starts chanting about the glory of Ireland. The only thing that will distract Marzipan from David Tennant is Ireland.

He proceeds to start screech-singing in all caps.

🎵IRELAND IIIRELAND TOGETHER STANDING TALLLL.🎵

The BAFTAs end. People are still thirsting over David Tennant.

🎵I KNOW YOU'RE MISSING HOME IT'S SO LONG SINCE YOU'VE BEEN🎵

Uh, more dubious things about David, suits and the absence of said suits are discussed. I'm trying my damndest not to notice.

🎵AND THE LIFE YOU HAD IN DUBLIN NOW AIN'T NOTHIN BUT A DREAM🎵

There is accidental Mascot lore: I am apparently from a different timeline (I mixed up timeline and timezone) and that's how Apollo deposited me in an illegal sushi restaurant where I became Neil Gaiman and Michael Sheen's intellectual child.

I am compared to a cat.

TOM HIDDLESTON AND DAVID TENNANT WERE IN THE STAGED-LIKE THING IN THE BEGINNING AHAHAHAHAH LOKI AND CROWLEY MY TWO CELESTIAL GENDERFLUID ICONS.

OKAY so I will end the summary here and make a list of out of context quotes in a new post. Because. Boy oh boy. That deserves its own post.

[prodbymaui]

Guilty Pleasure

before this night is over, I want you in my arms

PAIRING: na jaemin x reader

GENRE: celebrities in love

WORD COUNT: 931 words

WARNINGS: mentioned edging, public sex (?), voyeurism

SYNOPSIS: Just the ideal couple enjoying each other's warmth on a cold night.

A/N: my first dream fic on this blog, yay! I hope you enjoy this one <3 tell me your thoughts! (this is just another surge of a brainrot so don't mind the grammatical errors and lack of plot + porn)

Escaping the after-party of this big celebration for a minute was out of the equation. You're one hell of a party-goer and, obviously, has a knack for parties which is why you haven't thought of getting out of here even for a mere second to breathe. But one text from your loving boyfriend and you're already excusing yourself from the dance floor.

JM: Where are you, love?

Spotting Jeno not far where you stand, you quickly stride towards him, steps careful not to trip on your favorite heels. You exchange pleasantries with a slap on his arm. ''Where's Jaemin?''

The man comically flinch in surprise, turning around. ''Well, hello to you too. He's out in the back. Do you want me to accompany you?''

Shaking your head, you wave your hand dismissively, sending him a 'thanks' before heading out to finally meet your boyfriend. There Jaemin is, clicking on his phone with his blazer hanging on his left arm, his dress shirt opened until the fourth button.

You don't know whether it's the alcohol in your system that is responsible for the quivering of your legs or something else. The light emitting from his phone enables you to get a view of his adonis face. It's definitely something else.

Your heels clacks the ground but the music coming from inside of the building overpowers it. Jaemin looks a bit surprise as you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face on his chest. There isn't much of a height difference between you but the warmth of Jaemin's body has been a comfort area for you ever since.

He places his blazer on your naked shoulders before sneaking his arms underneath it, hugging your waist. ''Bless me with some words next time, will you? I was about to whip those arms away thinking it was someone else.''

You let out a breathy chuckle, slapping Jaemin's bicep lightly before gripping the fabric of his dress shirt. Humming, you close your eyes as you let your lips touch the skin of Jaemin's neck, placing sweet pecks on areas you could reach without moving too much.

Looking up, you meet the loving eyes of your boyfriend that speaks a thousand words; I adore you. I cherish you. I want this to last forever.

You couldn't help but smile shyly at the amount of fondness in Jaemin's eyes. Caressing the side of his face, you tip-toe to place a kiss on his slightly chapped lips. It isn't even a second after the first one when you lean in for the second time, deeper this time.

Jaemin's hands grips your waist a little tighter, head bowing to force his tongue inside your mouth as you gasp for air. Jaemin licks everywhere he can, biting on your lower lip before moving on to suck on your tongue. Your lipstick smudges but Jaemin thinks it only makes things better.

With the little bits of his sanity, Jaemin is able to hear the slow music that is being played at the party. He takes this as a chance to move your body along with his, swaying you side to side while he pours out his feelings into the kiss you are sharing.

For the paparazzis who's watching you right now, this is surely a private moment worth the risk of invading. A former child teen star and her best friend turned into lover sharing a sweet kiss after they escape the chaotic party to enjoy each other's presence? This will truly make the headlines and bring them a lot of cash. Everyone loves a sweet moment from famous celebrities!

Anyone who would see the pictures are gonna be filled with adoration mixed with envy as they watch Jaemin, the ever-so-boyfriend-material, hug you tight in the midst of the cold night while whispering what seem to be sugary words on your ears.

Well, it is partially true. Indeed, these are some sugary and sweet words but no one knows it is partnered with sensual and dirty connotations. They don't know that the reason for your shaking legs isn't the cold. They don't know the real reason behind Jaemin's charming smile. They don't know the actual words being whispered.

Jaemin's fingers works on swiping his phone underneath the blazer he lent you. ''Are you gonna cum for me, pretty? Right here where the media can possibly catch us? Oh, how dirty you are, darling. I don't have to do much to have you fucked out in my arms. Look at those legs going jelly over a toy vibrating inside your pussy. You're falling apart. God, you're so beautiful.''

Your eyes rolls to the back of your head and your tongue lols out. Jaemin turns your back in any possible angle your face can be seen, covering you. The graph in his screen curves up courtesy of his fingers.

''You've held in so well, darling. Come for me. Just like that. There we go. Such a good girl, always a good girl for me.'' Placing a kiss on top of your head, Jaemin brushes your hair soothingly.

Your boyfriend stops swaying your bodies and steadies you in his arms because if it weren't for his hand on your waist, you would drop down to the floor the moment you came.

Still couldn't believe what happened, you pinch Jaemin's nipple through his dress shirt. ''Aww--''

''That's what you get for edging me for an hour and making me cum on public.''

Jaemin chuckles lowly. ''Isn't that great, love? Another box to tick off our list--''

Yep, no one can definitely know about this.

[smolcinnamonchipmunk]

To Catch a Grasshopper

(I wholeheartedly blame @a-weird-tiny for this. I showed them Hopper, and she immediately said that she wanted Borrower!Hopper to get in a cat and mouse chase with Miguel for acting like a nuisance (my words)/brat (her words), and she gave me a line that kickstarted this whole thing. Might draw something for it at some point because I now have a new brainrot. 

There are now five men in my brain jostling for attention, and it’s getting rowdy. Also, sorry if anything seems OOC for Miguel, I only know what the movie provides which is a grouchy, broody man, though I think I wrote him softer than anything else the fandom has right now. All I know is ‘angry latino/a’ is a stereotype I’m very tired of being taken to the extreme considering I’m Hispanic and, like, being angry isn’t his only personality trait.)

Count: 5758

TW/CW: Soft, safe G/t vore, a bit of fearplay/worry of being killed "You're pouting again."

"I am not," came the gruff answer. Just like they expected from their current companion as Hopper settled on the edge of the console desktop, crossing one leg over the other and using their knee to rest their elbow and perch their chin in hand. Purple faded in their brown eyes as they smirked up at the back of the looming figure leaning over the console on the other side of the platform.

Miguel O’Hara let out a heavy sigh that was more akin to a growl, a rather common greeting he gave them whenever they popped up during work. Then again, they didn’t know where he lived outside of this place, so showing up at his work was the only way they knew to see him without being creepy. 

His shoulders slumped slightly with the exhale, muttering something under his breath - likely to brace himself for tolerating their presence - before turning around to look at them. Orange from the console screens around the platform pronounced his facial features, glinting off of his red irises and spidersuit. Which was already glowing in the red parts, so the whole platform was a delight of warm colored neon. 

Hopper would have preferred they were cooler colors. The Spiders had blue in their motif, why not use that?

They were still pretty impressed when his eyes almost immediately fell on their sitting form at the edge of the desk. He was a very large man by normal standards, towering over most humans with ease, but he was absolutely massive compared to their diminutive height of three inches. Still, superhuman senses enabled him to easily pinpoint their position. He might not have been brooding, but he had a very naturally tired and brood-y face.

“I’m assuming it’s too much to ask you to leave me alone for the day,” Miguel said tiredly. Already his voice was laced with stress and general grouchiness, but they couldn’t really remember a time he’d greeted them with a wide smile. It wasn’t really his style. Small smiles, occasionally.

To be fair, he was probably the one Spider they liked annoying the most. It was easier than most of the other Spiders, but he also dealt with a whole society of wise-cracking chatterboxes, so he also had a surprising amount of patience with them.

“You assume correctly,” Hopper chirped proudly from their spot, asymmetrical earrings dangling from their proclamation. One was a blue-gemmed planet in a golden hoop, the other a gold star with a blue gem center on a piece of gold chain that dangled it down to their chin. With a mischievous look, their eyes flickered purple and their form wavered with purple sparks, feeling a warm pins-and-needles kind of feeling running through their body. In a blink, they went from sitting at the edge of the console desktop to flickering into existence atop one of the monitors closer to the man, legs and hands on top as they dangled the rest of their body upside down to look at him. 

His gaze quickly followed the brief purple flash of their appearance.

“I can’t just leave my very best Spider friend alone with his brooding thoughts,” they added playfully sweetly, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of blood rushing to their head. “Besides, I’ve been gone a week. Can’t say I didn’t give you a break.”

“If only it was longer,” the Spider grumbled, turning away with a proper growl this time. He began to work on the screen he had previously been using, fingers sliding across the orange glow.

“Aw, c’mon,” Hopper said, teleporting to stand on the top of the monitor being used. Almost immediately, Miguel made a lazy attempt to snatch at them, making them teleport to the screen right next to it. This time, they appeared with their hands on their hips with their eyes narrowed at him. 

He’d found out pretty quickly when they first met that, frustratingly enough for him, they could teleport too quick to be grabbed. Which was good for them because they had time to iterate that they were VERY fragilè. No superhuman strength or durability to be had here, AND they were tiny in comparison. One overzealous grab could probably kill them.

“And I DON’T brood,” Miguel added with a light glower before lowering the hand that went to grab them back to the screen he was focusing on. His eyes followed suit, trying to return his focus to his previous work.

“I think a bunch of Spiders and I would disagree.”

This close, they could see a small quirk at the corner of his lip as he replied, “Just because you and a few other Spidermen think I brood doesn’t mean you’re right.”

Hopper stood waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t elaborate or tack anything on, making them groan a bit in irritation. They teleported back onto the monitor he was using and he didn’t move to snap at them or grab them again. He seemed rather intent on ignoring them. With a huff, they spread their arms out and said, “C’mon, man. I dimension-hopped here. OBVIOUSLY. I don’t wanna go home and basically tire myself out for nothing!"

"Then go bother someone else to pass the time, I’m busy."

They frowned at the rather reasonable response, defiantly declaring, "I don't want to. And when AREN’T you busy?"

They felt a bit of satisfaction as he closed his eyes for a second and frowned. They thought he had anger issues. He did, maybe, but they definitely didn't help. But, if they left him alone, he would just stand here, brood, and bury himself in his missions and self-appointed job. He was a chill guy but they worried about him self-destructing sometimes in his work, even if their version of worrying and action was trying to get under his skin to distract him from everything else. 

That, and Hopper - despite enjoying the sense of humor and more upbeat nature of the other spiders - found them to be easily overwhelming and loud in their own ways, so they felt like they'd be drained quickly. One on one was fine depending on the Spider, but this was literally a SPIDER HUB. The chances of finding many Spiders on their own was slim, and slimmer still was finding a Spider they liked or gathering the nerves to introduce themself to an unfamiliar Spider. Jess was fun, but she was usually out as well, either on mission or home. All the Spiders came and went.

Except Miguel, sometimes. Maybe he lives here, they didn’t know.

He wasn't exactly the friendliest, or most fun-loving, and he was fucking TERRIFYING when he yelled or got too stressed (they teleported out of the room the few times he'd snapped at them), but he was here the most often, was usually pretty quiet, and was alone with manager-y kind of stuff, except like a weird Spider crime department that specialized in dimensional stuff.

"Have you talked to the Therapist Spider yet," Hopper asked without any snark or provocative inflection, sitting down and absentmindedly kicking their feet lightly. Their legs probably barely blocked any of the screen, but it was enough to draw his attention when he opened his eyes once more.

"No, and I don't need to. You're worse than LYLA about asking that."

"Well, I still say you should go talk to him. Just once, at least! Everyone needs therapy, you Spiders especially. Or, I don't know, get a hobby," they suggested, not for the first time. They knew that LYLA made similar comments, but Miguel wasn't in charge of Hopper.

They shifted so that they laid on top of the monitor, raising their wrist above them to watch their bracelet beads sway slightly and glint in the orange light. It wasn't very comfortable since the monitors were pretty thin, but they didn't care too much. They huffed and added, "You're going to make yourself insane by just doing this all day. I'm bored to tears just watching."

"Then go home," Miguel suggested back. “Besides, I’m too busy for hobbies. Or, small annoyances trying to distract me from, again, working.”

Alarmingly, the monitor they were laying on and the one he was using was suddenly jerked to the side, causing them to jolt off the side with a panicked yelp. Instinctively their body kickstarted a teleport, body flickering purple before they appeared at the console desktop. Their instincts made them materialize upside-down, using the momentum from their fall to 'fall' upwards into a standing position that had them flailing their arms for a second to avoid falling on their back anyways. They stood there frozen for a second from the brief fright, looking up to see Miguel chuckle a bit as he fixed the monitor back in place and continued.

"YOU MOTHERFUCKER," they hissed as they teleported back up to the top of the monitor, but there was a smile playing at the corners of their lips. "Not fair that you can just knock me off my perch! I'm wasting my Hops here, man."

"Not fair that you can teleport yourself unilaterally transdimensionally and transspacially out of reach and consequences while you sit there and distract me from my work," he replied. He still seemed stressed and grouchy, but there was the barest of difference from before, the slightest amount of loosening up. “Now, cállate.”

"First of all, they're not transdimensional or whatever transports, they're HOPS," Hopper stressed the rather simple word compared to his complicating ones, resettling on top of the monitor as they ignored him telling them to be quiet. This time they didn't lay down, just sitting up and keeping an eye on his hands in case he wanted to be a funny guy again. "And secondly, you're ALWAYS working. It's not healthy, you know."

They were one to talk considering their horrid life habits, but Miguel didn't need to know about any of that.

"If I don't keep charge, who will," Miguel scoffed a little, though they knew he had no ill will towards the other Spiders. He just wanted to take the brunt of everything for everyone.

Hopper realized this was one of the few times his wristwatch-machine-thing wasn't going off every minute or so, but glancing down at the screen showed that he was still monitoring and directing Spider traffic and tasks with nimble fingers.

"What about Jess? Or the black and white monochrome Spider? He seems broody and serious enough for it," they suggested, looking back up at him. His gaze didn't waver from the monitor. "Just for, like, five minutes. C'mon, we go get some tea, or I'm guessing some form of Monster energy in your case since I've never seen you sleep. What’s a monster to a Spider? Praying Mantis?"

"That's a negative, I don't brood, and I’m questioning whether or not you’re a Spider-person with how much you talk my ear off," he said, flicking through pieces of programming that was cleverly styled around this whole webbing deal the Spiders had.

"Sure ya don't," they said dismissively, ignoring most of his statement and starting to develop an idea. A probably very horrible idea that would almost definitely make him irritated at least and furious at worse. But, he was a good guy, even if his attitude suggested otherwise sometimes. They trusted him to not hurt them. "It's just five minutes. Anyways, any big quantum whatsits right now? Influxes? Anomalies? Anomalies. Big Spider Emergency stuff."

Miguel looked surprised at their question since they usually tried to take his mind OFF of his work, not ask about it unless it was after he went out himself. He thought for a second, probably wondering their reason for asking, before he replied, "We had a couple incidents this morning, but they were taken care of pretty quickly. The timelines seem stable for now, but it could change any moment."

"How long?"

"Huh?" The Spider quirked a confused eyebrow at them.

“How long have they been stable?” Hopper clarified, watching the confusion dissipate from Miguel’s face as they did so. While he thought, they teleported to the surface of the console desktop, waiting patiently for the moment or so it took for him to answer.

“Few hours, maybe. It’s always calmer after an influx. Why?” he asked, following them to their spot on the desk with curiosity and suspicion.

“Because-,” a mischievous smile spread across their face as they casually walked over to where his Goober-Gizmo-Computer-Key thing was halfway stuck out of the console. As they placed a hand on it they saw his eyes widen slightly as he realized what they were doing. A flash of red-blue came towards them as he quickly went to grab them, but they already flickered out of reach, computer key and all. They appeared on the console at the other end of the platform while he whirled around to see where they went, leaning a little on the little device-thing that was two-thirds their height. They opened their mouth to continue but he lunged towards them.

“Hopper!” Miguel snapped as they teleported out of reach back to the other side, spinning back to face them with a scowl. His tone was warning like someone prepared to scold a pet or child. “Drop it.”

“Iiif you’ll let me finish,” Hopper replied, feigning disinterest by looking at their nails. They heard him sigh heavily, seeing him cross his arms over his chest in their peripherals.

“Alright, fine. Finish.” he said gruffly.

“Thank you,” they chirped, perking up and looking back up at the man, keeping at least one hand on the key at all times. Clearing their throat, they started again. “Anyways. BECAUSE. If things are settled right now, then that totally means you can take a five minute break with me.”

“No can do,” Miguel quickly cut them off, shifting to hold out his hand palm up rather than attempt to grab them again. “Give the Goober back, Hopper.”

“Only if you take five minutes to just chill. You’ve still got your wristwatch that the others can contact if something happens and all of you guys are capable of handling yourselves, even if some of the Spiders are goofy as hell,” Hopper hummed, watching his frown deepen at their blatant refusal to comply. Teleporting to the edge of the platform, they added, “Or, you know, I guess we could spend five minutes with me playing Keep Away. Just make sure you put a timer on. I feel like you’ll die if you have even one second of rest or fun more than that.” “Haha. Funny,” he laughed sarcastically, though his expression looked far from amused right now. With a grumble, he turned and paced a little on the platform, pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering under his breath. After a few seconds of Hopper waiting patiently, he stopped. He looked almost surprised at a sudden thought, turning to look at them. "If I indulge you in your little game of Keep Away, you'll be satisfied giving the Goober back and not causing trouble?"

"Just call it a computer key. And, cross my heart and hope to die. Though, you know, kind of don't want that to happen," Hopper made the X over their heart, feeling a sense of elation at having him even actually consider their proposition. They did wonder why he'd choose a game rather than just relaxing.

"Don't worry. You won't," Miguel replied, rolling his neck and shoulders. Suddenly, Hopper didn't feel very confident in their decisions for the day.

"Oh, uh, are we, like, starting now," they asked dumbly, having not really expected him to accept any of this. They didn't really think this far ahead.

"You're the one that suggested this. Though, if you want, I can give you a second to get ready since I’m not going easy on you, kid.”

Ignoring the fact that he called them ‘kid’ despite them being a full-grown adult, they felt a little better at the thought of being able to collect and prepare themself mentally, saying, “I’d appreciate that very much, thank you.”

“Alright,” Miguel nodded amicably and looked off to the side. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked like he was going to wait patiently. That lasted maybe a moment before his head whipped back towards them with narrowed eyes that glinted with his own slight mischievousness. “One.”

Hopper wasn’t even given a moment to process the brief confusion, eyes widening as the man lunged towards their spot at the edge of the platform with outstretched hands. With a yelp, their body quickly moved into a teleport, barely remembering to keep holding onto the computer key and spread the teleportation to it. Back on top of the console desktop, they took a second to register what happened, Miguel standing up from where they had been standing. Despite literally asking for this whole game, they couldn’t help but exclaim, “What the fuck, Miguel?!”

“What?” he asked, straightening up. His face was now covered by his mask, but his voice had a tinge of amusement to it as he looked back at them. He lunged towards them again, forcing them to teleport to a monitor with another yelp. “I asked if you wanted a second, I gave you a second.” “Oh, NOW you’re a funny guy like the rest of the Spiders?” Hopper asked, smiling now that the initial shock was over. They could feel a bit of giddiness from adrenaline. They laughed and teleported off the platform to the metal arm thing in the room below when he made to grab them again. They shifted their grip on the computer key, looping their arm through the metal ring on top to lessen the chance of losing it as they shouted up, “Does that mean you’re not brooding for five minutes?”

“I like that you think it’ll take that long to catch you,” Miguel replied, leaping off the platform and using a laser-web to pull himself towards them with his claws out. “I like that you think you CAN catch me,” Hopper laughed, teleporting to the ground and then further down the hall when he pounced towards their position almost immediately. “Didn’t we establish pretty early on that I’ll just teleport away even if you manage to touch me?”

“Call it a hunch that I think this time’ll be different.” “I’d ask if it was Spider-sense, but you don’t have that so I’m just gonna say it’s your massive ego that makes you think that,” they continued to teleport around the hall and equipment, having to move quickly because they were barely given a second of reprieve before there was a flash of blue-red in the corner of their vision that had them whisking away out of reach. They felt a slight ache in their chest from teleporting so quickly around, but they ignored it in favor of trying a larger jump to the end of the hall to try and catch their breath for a second.

After all, they were basically compressing their entire body and molecules - and the computer key’s - out of physical existence and back in. They were essentially holding their breath and stopping their heart for brief moments of time, and their body was currently not liking it happening so much.

“I think your hubris is going to be your downfall,” Miguel shouted, seeing them at the end of the hall. This far away, they were given a few seconds to see how terrifying it was to actually be in place of a pseudo-villain, seeing his claws gouge into the metal ground like it was paper and him literally claw and pounce towards them. They were definitely realizing why the fuck he was so buff compared to some of the other Spiders. A laser-web shot towards them and they were gone again.

“I think my hubris is likely to kill me, yes,” Hopper maintained their air of nonchalance, far too into this game to let a bit of tiredness or any aching distract them. When was the last time they played a game? Or basically played tag? When was Miguel’s? Popping up on a structure higher on a wall between some equipment. They thought they were getting closer to the Anomaly room. If they could get in one of the cages, he’d have to talk to LYLA, who they hoped would side with them.

Teleporting away from his claws again, they added, “I don’t think your name is Hubris though, so I think I’m good either way.”

“Maybe I’ll get a name change then,” he said. When they popped back on the ground with the intent to go to the Anomaly room, he overshot and dropped down right in front of them, making them yelp and teleport backward at how close he’d landed. He was starting to try and predict their movements, and unnervingly well. 

As they teleported again away, he shouted after them, “And stop teleporting away-” another unsuccessful pounce to them, “- or hopping around like a-a-,” he struck a wall as he rounded a corner and tried to laser-web them again, “- a GRASSHOPPER or something!” “I’m not-not a grasshopper.” Hopper replied, mildly offended at the nickname and struggling to not pant as they teleported onto another shelf of equipment. They weren’t sure if he heard the way their voice kind of wavered tiredly but he didn’t let up regardless. They were unused to the strain in their chest, finding it more difficult to ignore as time went on. “Tell you what,” Miguel didn’t sound winded at all as he lunged again, though he was used to actual fieldwork like the rest of the Spiders while Hopper hadn’t really tried to test their teleportation limits. “You give me back the Goober, I don’t call you a grasshopper.” “No dice,” they teleported to the other end of a different hall, hoping to double-back on him without him predicting it. They huffed a bit quietly, trying to take in a full breath against the stitch developing in their side. “You’ll just take it and keep calling me grasshopper. But that’s fine anyways because it doesn’t bother me.”

It did, it really did, but they couldn’t let him know that because it would only encourage it.

“Fair assessment, but wrong. Now I just get to call you a grasshopper, which fits because you KEEP EVADING ME,” he growled as he landed where they had been standing. “Quédate quieto, you nuisance!”

They teleported on top of a light fixture to look down at him, ignoring the fact that everytime he landed it was with enough force to DENT the ground. Instead, they ignored the way their heart raced and panting breaths, asking, “Have you ever tried catching a grasshopper?”

“I’m trying right now!”

“Haha, funny,” they teleported away again, closing their eyes against a twinge of pain in their chest, for a moment, having to teleport again to avoid red-glowing claws with a panicked yelp. Was it just them or was that teleport a little delayed? “I meant ACTUAL grasshoppers. They’re pretty easy to catch once you know what to do. Like a cup or something.”

Hopper worriedly began to realize that their breathing was becoming more labored as well, pauses between sentences increasing noticeably. There was no way he didn’t notice that, at least.

“Really? Thanks for the tip.” Miguel said, eliciting another exclamation as they were forced to teleport away again.

They didn’t say anything in response to the Spider, their attention turning strictly to avoiding having the entire weight of the man come crashing on top of them, avoiding claws that still dug into the metal terrifyingly close to them and trying to speed up their teleporting back to normal standard as they felt themself begin to falter while the pain and ache in their chest increased. With a laborious huff, they teleported across the room again, starting to feel like they were physically and bodily chucking themself and the computer key around.

“What’s wrong, Hopper?” the Spider still didn’t relent in the chase, pouncing and barely missing them once more as he taunted them. “You’ve gone quiet. Almost like you’re getting tired. We can stop whenever, you just gotta drop the Goober.”

“FUCK YOU,” Hopper snapped on instincts, letting out a heavy pant when they popped back up before teleporting away again at the sight of more claws. They felt stubbornness fueled by spite, forcing themself to continue. “I’m not-not tired, a-asshole! Maybe I don’t feel like talking!”

“You? Not feeling like talking?” Miguel asked, laughing as he swung from a web to where they attempted to take refuge on some kind of equipment that flashed and hummed like many of the items in the Spider-Hub. He landed lightly as they disappeared again. “That’s more improbable than space-time just fixing itself on its own.”

“It-It happens,” they protested defensively, not wanting to admit that they were being worn down as they wavered back into existence with the computer key. Seeing him immediately face them, again, they teleported back towards his platform room, wondering if they could seek refuge in a dark corner or something. They doubted it, but maybe. But, as they flickered out in their teleport it felt sluggish and painful, barely managing to wrench their molecules away.

Hopper reappeared on the floor beside the wall, not quite where they wanted, and had to gasp for a second past the pain before forcing themself to teleport again. This time, when they reappeared, their vision remained staticky for a second before it cleared enough to allow them a pretty good view of Miguel coming towards them a Mach 5 with a claw outstretched. 

They couldn’t help but exclaim in panic, trying to teleport out of the way. But, the only thing they managed was a painful purple staticky-glitchy effect that brought to mind the Anomalies that the Spiders were catching, a flash of white-hot pain traveling through their chest briefly. 

This was it, they thought, I’m about to fucking die because I really fucked around and found out, huh?

They couldn’t make themself look away, staring at their imminent death with paralyzing fear, watching the red claws draw closer both in an instant and horrifyingly slowly as their mind took in everything. The claws sunk into the metal around them and they didn’t even realize that they WEREN’T being crushed until Miguel spoke up in the same instant the claws caged around them..

“Te pillé!” he proclaimed triumphantly, barely letting out a huff from the entire chase. The eye-shapes on his mask widened from the focused narrowed eye-shapes to normal. It was still weird how expressive all the masks were. “You good, kid?” Hopper didn’t say anything at first, still wondering how the hell they were even alive. They blinked in surprise, their heart racing in their chest and breath laborious and shallow as they VERY slowly realized they weren’t in danger and began to calm. They noticed belatedly that they had a good inch and a half between their chest and the surface of his palm, not exactly in danger but still far too close for comfort after seeing him barreling towards them.

“I-I’m good,” they answered stiffly, voice cracking a bit from the scare. They took a steadying breath, wincing as it worsened the painful stitches in their sides, but they were fine overall. Just exhausted, a bit adrenaline-filled, and feeling aches already begin to settle.

“Good. I’ll take that then,” Miguel said, pulling his claws out from the metal wall and floor, carefully plucking them off the floor by the back of their jacket in his claws - making them yelp out in protest - and separating them from the computer key. He closed his fingers around the computer key deftly. They noticed the way his claws retreated into the tips of his fingers as he added nonchalantly, “You were right.”

“Huh?” Hopper frowned in confusion, more concerned with the fading ache in their chest. Looking at the eyeshapes of his mask, they asked tiredly, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You said it’d be pretty easy to catch a grasshopper when I knew what to do,” he replied, mask dissipating to allow them to see his small smug expression, making them scowl immediately. “And it was. You were so sure of yourself, too.”

“I meant ACTUAL GRASSHOPPERS, and you DON’T NEED TO RUB IT IN,” they huffed, still panting a little.

“Yes, well, now you’re just a little grasshopper who can’t hop around anymore,” Miguel said. He lifted them up higher, which they didn’t really care about until he opened his jaws and began to move them closer to fangs that were as long as their forearms.

“WOAH, wait, what the FUCK?!” Hopper exclaimed in surprised panic, purple crackling along their limbs unsuccessfully. 

Miguel only quirked an eyebrow slightly, saying, “Don’t worry, kid, you’ll be fine.” with the feeling that he knew they definitely wouldn’t believe him if he tried to elaborate. Which was true, but it was still kind of terrifying when they were placed into his mouth and let go despite their protests.

“MIGUEL, THIS DOESN’T FEEL FINE,” Hopper shouted when the teeth clicked behind them, yelping when the tongue shifted up against them. Adrenaline ran through their veins, causing their chest to ache again as they tried to instinctively teleport ANYWHERE else, but the light from the crackling of unsuccessful teleporting only gave them a very sharp and vivid look at the inside of the jaws around them like the teeth surrounding them. Or the pit of darkness in the back where his throat definitely was. They yelped - squeaked, but they’d never admit it - as the tongue moved them around and they felt saliva soak their clothes. “MIGUEL!”

Seconds felt like forever as their body took in their surroundings, the heat and humidity all around them, the sound of his breathing, the constant shifting of his tongue as it easily moved them around and licked at them anywhere it could touch, making them yelp in indignation when it poked their side and caused them to involuntarily jolt. They shoved against it in fearful irritation, exclaiming, “PINCHE PENDEJO, LET ME OUT!”

They only knew some insults in Spanish despite having spent years with a Spanish class and their reward was a rumbling chuckle from the man as he continued to lick at them. It was probably only a couple seconds before they found themself starting to be nudged back to the back of his mouth, trying to brace their legs against the roof of his mouth. Rather unsuccessfully.

Now it was their turn to let out a warning tone, going, “Miguel, don’t you fucking DARE swallow me!” as they panicked. They couldn’t help but feel a sense of betrayal, thinking that he was probably one of the more trustworthy people out there and now he was EATING them.

Miguel still didn’t respond, either because they were still in his mouth or he didn’t care to bother, and they found themself squished between the roof of his mouth and his tongue directly before the sound of a gulp overwhelmed their ears. In a split second, they found themself sucked down into his throat, exclaiming protests and trying to squirm away from the constricting walls all around them while their surroundings were briefly lit up every couple seconds by panicked purple light from failed teleporting.

The sound of his heart pounded in their ears along with the small exhale that he let out after swallowing, both breathing and heartbeat the only thing they could hear over the ambient sound of organs shifting in his body. Hopper didn’t realize how fucking loud bodies were.

Seconds ticked by rapidly before they spilled into a more open space, the only thing they could guess as the stomach. Despite their exhaustion, they couldn’t help but try and jump to their feet, immediately slipping and falling over on their back given the moving EVERYTHING and saliva coating it all.

“MIGUEL, LET ME OUT,” Hopper shouted again, feeling their throat start to hurt from all their panicked screaming. But, if they didn’t hold onto their anger, they’d probably just feel distress and fear, and that was so much worse. They yelped when everything got tighter, pressure from one side of the organ as they squirmed in confusion and more instinctive worry. After a second, they realized that he was probably pressing in from the outside to try and make them still.

“Cálmate, cálmate,” Miguel said, voice a bit softer. Whether he was trying to not overwhelm them further or he was trying to actually calm them felt up for debate considering their position. He still sounded far more casual than the situation called for as he added, “You’re gonna be fine, Hopper, it’s just temporary containment. Although, I wasn’t expecting you to have quite as much kick in you after being chased around.” “Temporary containment?! Temporary til what, my death?!” Hopper snapped, trying in vain to shove his hand and the stomach wall away before realizing the full extent of what he said. “Hey, wait a minute! What do you mean by ‘expecting��? How long have you been planning on eating me?!”

“Seriously? Only today, though the thought has crossed my mind a few times since meeting you,” he admitted, only sounded a LITTLE awkward about the admittance. “WHY?!”

“For one, stop squirming. I’ve told you you’re fine,” Miguel huffed, pressing a little harder but stopped when they yelped and stilled. His hand pulled away, allowing them to slip to the bottom of the organ with a yelp and fresh coating of drool from the small puddle at the bottom. “Secondly, having a small person run around on your desk while having spider DNA will lead to some odd thoughts like potentially eating them.”

“Okay, but again, WHY,” Hopper repeated, still confused as to why he’d give in to what they interpreted as a VERY WEIRD INTRUSIVE THOUGHT.

“Because it’s perfectly safe and I’ll know exactly where you are until you’re either able to teleport again or, let’s see… Let’s say an hour and a half or whenever your powers come back, whichever happens first.” 

Hopper’s jaw dropped, realizing why he’d picked the game rather than just five minutes of tea, offended as they asked, “DID YOU JUST FUCKING PUT ME IN TIME OUT?!”

“Don’t take my Goober again unless you want a repeat, Grasshopper.”

[i-mybrunettelady]

im enjoying playing guardian again after not playing it for a long time— also having brainrot about nyra at the same time (i’ve been reading through her tag a bit 👀). so i have questions im curious about

maybe i need to read about her more, if you’ve already talked about this, but how did nyra’s guardian powers manifest? did she always have them since she was young?

& how did they develop over time? did her powers adapt with her as she traveled (like how you got a new elite specialization in each expansion)? is there anything unique with her guardian powers that other guardians don’t have?

omg hiiiiiii

i am so !! that you like my girl!! thank you!!! i'm so glad we are all unwell about her, actually, and i get very emo whenever people tell me they like her ;;; she's my dottir! and i'm so happy you're enjoying guardian!! if you ever have any questions for it (sans wb which i don't really play) my dms and inbox are open <3

a lot of my guardian nyra hcs and lore are like. old content almost and live in my head and i don't talk about them as much here, which i probably should since they're due for a review/revision. a few core things remain:

she was a magical late bloomer; humans generally are, seeing as they're not originally from tyria, but she was a late bloomer even for human standards. she got her magic at 15. i wrote some of it here for my commander week prompt!

she is a firebrand/dragonhunter mix in canon. her starter abilities resemble dragonhunter moreso than base guardian. she doesn't use firebrand tomes but she uses the mantras, and she doesn't have blue guardian fire. she doesn't use dragonhunter bow (even if i use it mechanically for her build.)

she can use light to transform it into physical objects.

her weapon pipeline goes like this: hammer (PS to HoT) -> staff (HoT - EoD) -> polearms/spear (SotO, JW and onward) + a crystalline weapon called Lightbringer that she can shape to be whatever she wants it to be, a gift from Aurene.

her powers progression is less tied to elites and more tied to her magical usage i'd say. in PS she's only had her magic for about four years, enough to know basics of how to operate it, but not enough to be the caster she will become in the future. we're talking spirit weapons as aids to her melee, hammer attacks. when mordremoth gave her her shoulder scar, she had to switch to staff because wielding a hammer with a badly healed shoulder is unattainable, and her magical abilities developed further.

during her time in elona, she spent some of it in the company of roni gehianu, who she got the knowledge of mantras from that help her to this day! i give little nods to this in my writing sometimes when i describe her making a motion and being suddenly calmer than she'd been before, for example, so she gave them day-to-day usage as well. by season 4 she developed her own blend of guardian that she technically is to this day :)

in cantha she never really took to willbender. she took notes on willbenders' mobility, which help with her spear fighting, but never quite leaned into that part of her training fully. this might change if i give wb another shot and i see if i like it, but for now, she isn't a willbender.

i will also add that if she wasn't a guardian at all, she'd be a warrior, and a spellbreaker at that, because her magical proficiency could've also been inverted and become an ability to repel magic. for an awesome exploration of this idea that i don't think i'll do well bc i'm too attached to guardian!nyra, look no further than Wayfarer, an amazing high fantasy interactive fiction novel that is legit one of my fav pieces of media of all time. Anyways.

thank you for dropping by and for dropping this question! i'm always down to talk abt my girl and abt guardian and like. get my brainrot constantly enabled further <3

[puzzledmemories]

TRY + A CHARACTER : Nsach / Shark i'm sorry zexal brainrot is real and it would be fun to have an active Nasch to go against u.u but only for this lil meme prompt ? ;u; no pressure <3 if you prefer someone else what about Crow from 5ds?

SEND  TRY + A CHARACTER  YOU’D LIKE TO SEE ME ( ATTEMPT ) TO WRITE !

((i don't have shark icons (yet) so take a screenshot from google images))

((the zexal brainrot has been real for me too i'm not gonna lie, it would be cool to have an active shark and he's my favorite character so i'm extremely tempted!!!! i'm like milliseconds away from putting him on as a test muse, i am so easily enabled))

"Look, Yuma, you don't understand. I know it was probably my terrible excuse for a sister that told you about my hatred for onions, but I don't want to know. You're not going to help me get over it. There's nothing you can do. I hate the taste, I hate the smell, I hate the way they try to make me cry. There's nothing redeemable about onions, Yuma. No amount of forced friendship is going to change that."

((i would've done something more dramatic and nasch-y, but... this screenshot was begging for something funny, sorry))

[ofainur]

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ manwë ⠀〳 erulissë⠀ ❜࿔ 

· ⊰ synopsis. after losing a bet, the king of arda submits to his most rebellious subject, who claims to despise him despite touching him with so much love ( minors dni  ៸៸ sexual content ៸៸ explicit descriptions ៸៸ strong language ៸៸ penetrative sex ៸៸ choking ៸៸ bondage ៸៸ 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆-𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈 ៸៸ bottom!manwë ៸៸ top!lissë ៸៸ creampie )

· ⊰ note. both with the enabling of @cilil and one person on my erulissë rp blog demanding that I "release receipts" here we have a wonderful smut piece I wrote some time back of our beloved flower girly topping the king of arda ~ honestly I've been brainrotting over these two because for those of you who know her, lissë absolutely despises manwë because of his loyalty to eru and his constant selfless abiding to eru's will, whilst manwë views her with something almost akin to confusion because of her rejection of eru and his will

♡ — 𝒕𝒐 𝒉𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈

"P-Please. . ."

A slight groan leaves his lips as his head hangs back. His eyes glossy as he weeps for his subject. He couldn't help it. She felt so good. She was simply too beautiful. Even as she stared at him with such hate and malice. As her velvet walls squeezed around his cock.

"E-Erulissë — ngh!"

Her thumb on his nipple and rubbing so callously left him gasping for air. He, the Lord of the Winds, left breathless because of some Maia. His own subject.

"For the last time." Leaning over him, her usually gentle face scowls. "You call me Lissë. Or would you rather something else? Something more demeaning of your position right now?"

"I-I can't take it!" Manwë's whine resonates through his marble walls. His fingers curling into his palms as his wrists tug at the binds holding him down. "Let me touch you. Please," he gasps, fluttering his sapphire eyes at her.

"L-Let me touch you. . . Let me feel you ahnn ~"

His lips part and his eyes nearly roll back when her hips start grinding against his again. She's so small. So tight. She's practically sucking him in and sending him to ruin with rough touches from such soft hand.

Fingers coil around white hair and she yanks his head back, her eyes glaring down at his pathetic form. Her supposed king — here he lays. His pale, jade-like chest decorated in red claw marks. His neck wearing her bites and hickies with pride.

He is nothing in this moment.

He will forever be nothing to her.

And yet she wants him more.

"Pathetic excuse for a king." She spits, her fingers pinching and twisting at his nipple as her hips begin to rock faster. Forming an agonisingly slow rhythm that has Manwë seeing stars.

"You. . . " He breathes, trying to buck his hips faster — if only to feel her hand shoot down and claw at his skin. A warning. Which he promptly ignores. His hips piston upward, powerful and quick — fucking her back into an arching position and squelching her needy little cunt.

Erulissë cries out. It's her turn to splutter. But she quickly regains control and shoots her grip around his throat. Clamping down and hunching over him with such feral eyes.

"Y-You lost the bet, Súlimo." He speaks through clenched teeth, despite the pleasure flickering in her eyes. "I told you that you are my slut for the night."

"You are ruining me," he groaned out loudly, his head tossing back as he slows his hips down with much reluctance. "You. . . Oh just you wait. . ." He pants, face heated and brows furrowed. "When these bonds are off I will. . .ungh. . . ruin this tight little thing right in front of my maiar," he rasps. His hips piston a few more times, ramming right up into that tender spot as though to warn her.

"Oh you will scream for me. . ."

Erulissë has to bite down on her lower lip at his threat. Her hand clenches around his throat as her dark hair frames his face. She leans down, face a breath away from his.

"I'd love to see you try. . . You bastard." She chuckles, biting down on his lip and tearing through the sensitive skin. "But for now, you're mine for the evening."

She stares into his half-lidded eyes and no matter how many times she tells herself that she hates him — that she loathes Manwë Súlimo. She cannot deny their passion. Their fervent nights of strewn sheets and insults followed by numerous kisses.

Their kiss is like two stars colliding. Devastating. Ruinous. Teeth clattering, tongues twisting. She feels him tugging on his restraints — desperate to touch her and she laughs against his lips whilst mocking him by roaming her hands through his body. Showing him her control in this situation.

When she parts they are both gasping. Whispering each other's name as though it were a forbidden nectar on their tongues.

She arches her back once more and rides him as though he is nothing. As though he is not her king. And he takes it as though she isn't his subject. Their hips move in sync. Damaging. Bruising. Even their very touch burned with hate.

And even as her release tore through her and she says his name to the heavens — it's as though she is cursing it.

Oh, but he cares not. His slithered eyes watch her clench and squirt around his cock. Around the same man she claims to despise with her entire being.

He chuckles softly, his head limping back into the sheets as she claws at his chest again to get him to shut up.

"I hate you."

She reminds.

"You're beautiful."

He counters.

·⊰ masterlist.

·⊰ tip jar.

·⊰ get tagged for my writing. @a-contemplation-upon-flowers @cilil @justajane @floraroselaughter @justellie17

( ❀ ) ˙ ˖ please consider liking, reblogging and / or commenting if you enjoy my work! all feedback is greatly appreciated ♡

[talaofthevalley]

Whenever I see your Vrains reblogs on my feed I'm like "OH NEW VRAINS FANART! WE'RE STILL ALIVE" and then I see the date of the original post and the illusion stops. But that makes your reblogs only more precious, please never stop filling me feed with Vrains stuff, I need ALWAYS MORE. Thank you so much for keeping the fandom alive and enabling my brainrot everyday. I swear you make my day better every time.

WAH what a delight to find this in my inbox ;w; Thank you, you're too kind. Knowing more people are having Vrains brainrot is a joy.

[urlocallesbiab]

tags via @generalized-incompetence:

#how did you post this on the day the assisfriedkin brainrot consumed me again

#my one rarepair offering is amanda and litzibitz but i have a million friendship pairings

#they're animated children's show characters to me and i am writing only filler episodes

#farah and estevez i think we've established but i haven't seen much fic about it (thanks kate though!!!)

#lydia and literally anyone. lydia and tina: shenanigans. lydia and farson: two children who tried to suceed where the adults failed. lydia #and mona: she just thinks mona's neat. lydia and hobbs: the father she never had.

#zimmerfield and wygar

#farson and francis!!! i feel like farson was a little bit of a francis stand in

#tina and panto and i also wanna say tina and panto's mom

#i feel like she would shock and appall panto's mom by like forcibly redecorating but eventually they would be wine friends

(this got way too long for prev-tagging it)

amanda and litzibitz!!! who knows maybe if amanda stayed in wendimoor to study extra magic..... maybe litzi would've snuck out to meet the mysterious witchacookoo... maybe farson would've introduced them! i think they would get along great, they're both very fierce young women willing to risk themselves / whats important to them if it means keeping people safe, burdened both by responsibility (the wise witch of her realm/the princess of her people) and by limited power to fulfill it (not enough control over her magic / over her father's decicions). what is shipping if not picking two characters with similar and/or compatible trauma and shoving them together! also given that i solidly hc manda as aromantic (and also bi and polyam but i digress) that makes me think what if litzi also was aromantic? 1 give it up for hot sapphic sex and friendship, 2 it's kinda funny to me to imagine litzibitz being on the fence abt her brother's relationship partially bc she just doesn't get why would he go that far for the sake of romance

LYDIA AND FARSON!!!! you're a teenager. your single parent has been keeping secrets from you. there's a feud that's been going on for years. you go out to meet up with the enemy: you want truth, you want peace, you want closure. it doesn't go well. you're kidnapped; your older sibling gets in trouble over it. your little stunt gets people killed. your body is changed in a way that's perfectly physically reversible but irreversibly traumatizes you. in the end, all is well, the day is saved and the problem is solved, but. you've gotten people killed. what's now, little heir?

in honor of tina & panto i tried to find more hcs from that one convo but it turned out we didn't share any, we were just picking roles for an omgcp au 😭 but anyway!! these two would get up to So Many shenanigans i know it. neither panto nor tina don't really need any more enabling as it is, but they'd absolutely enable each others and the amounts of bullshit would be Gorgeous. tina would hype him up bc she's a huge fan of hot people with weapons ("you're almost as badass as my girlfriend!"), and panto would have genuine deep respect for her skillset, and it'd be an iconic friendship! chaos queers at large: beware.

also on the topic of that au role assignements, i can't believe i forgot tina/amanda!! now That's a rareship. in that specific situation the ship wasn't actually prompted by "what would happen if we removed farah from the equation?", but in general i think that The most funny/interesting character dynamics can be achieved through taking a triangle-like situation (whether romantic or platonic or familial or whatever or a mix) and removing the centerpoint character, shoving the other two directly together. tina/amanda. silas & bart. panto × ken. todd × mike. NOW we're talking NOW THAT'S something!!! anyway i think that the fact that tina and amanda have never met and probably barely even heard of each other is the only thing that stopped them from instantly bonding for life. two bisexual weed-smoking musical subcultre girls in their mid-to-late twenties with debilitating mental and/or physical health issues and complexes over their older brothers, previously choking to death on boredom in their small and depressing enviroments and now getting embroiled in a terrible but exciting adventure larger than them? that relationship is writing itself!! y'all've heard about tina/farah parallels, now give it up for tina/amanda parallels!!!

on topic of tina & panto's mom, i don't remember the trosts having a mother? iirc they only had the father, jeppum, and the dengdamors only had the mother, lady frija. please PLEASE tell me you've invented a wendimoor oc for panto's mother and if yes PLEASE tell me about it i LOVE your hcs and incorporating them into my worldview

this fandom needs more weird and niche rareships. assisfriedkin, farona, mona/hugo, priest/adams, brotzman/estevez fans RISE UP i love eeeeevery single one of all so madly

honestly sound off your rareships in the notes i wanna see what yall got

oh and bonus round: people who hadn’t interacted once in canon but absolutely should've been friends (i will preemtpively mention tina & mona from kp's coffeshop au, tina & panto from i think that one conversation we had once, and bart & assistent from electricteatime's fic i havent yet read but heard a lot about)

[prolix-yuy]

Simulated

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader Actress

Summary: You're a professional, which is why a sex scene with Dieter Bravo will be no problem at all. Now you just have to convince yourself to believe it.  

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, descriptions of male and female bodies, simulated sex, grinding, fantasizing about sex, anxiety, lil bit of size kink, probably incorrect method for filming sex scenes but I'm using what I know and making up the rest. Don't do this for real, this is fantasy and Dieter is a filthy boy.

Notes: This leapt out of my brain and was enabled by the Discord besties. Dieter brainrot is setting back in but I doubt anyone's complaining. This may be the sexiest thing I've ever written without actual sex happening, but you all can be the judge of that.

Cross-posted on AO3

Midnight Alley Masterlist

Trembling on the verge of passing out is not how you wanted your first time in Dieter Bravo’s arms to be, but no amount of reprimands to your rebelling body have worked. 

It’s not him, far from it. Dieter had been nothing but gentlemanly since you came in for scene blocking. The director offered to have stand-ins while they adjusted lighting and staged the shots, but you boldly offered to come in anyways. It wasn’t your first shoot, but it was your first sex scene, and you wanted to impress the director with your no-nonsense attitude about it. 

All that confidence flew out the window when you came face to face with your scene partner, Dieter Bravo. Well aware of his aloof playboy nature, you didn’t expect his handshake to be so warm, the quirk of his smile to make your heart flutter, or for him to smell so strongly of eucalyptus. Apparently his agent mentioned you would be there for staging, and he decided to come in to test your chemistry. No issues there, your curious eyes roaming over his wrinkled cargo pants and threadbare sweater. He could be wearing nothing and you’d still melt into a puddle. Which, shockingly, wouldn’t be that far in the future.

Calm down, girl. Be professional.

To be fair, Dieter is fucking gorgeous, even under the bloodshot eyes and air of annoyance. His curls are even softer looking in person, heavy shoulders stretching his t-shirts and bulky forearms complimenting his thick thighs. Even the little pooch of a tummy makes you salivate. While your friends drool over Tom Hiddleston or Harry Styles, your heart beats fast for men who can crush you under their bulk. “Weighted blanket boys,” you like to call them, and Dieter wholly falls into that category. 

Which is why when you got the casting call for a bit part in the crime drama Midnight Alley, which Dieter had been co-starring in for three seasons, you leapt at the opportunity. Even if you didn’t get to share a scene, at least you could catch a glimpse, maybe say hello. That was surely worth the long hours. His proclivities for casual sex definitely didn’t fit into that plan. No sir. Definitely not.

It all became real when you got the pages. Your character was a one night stand, relegated to three scenes - the bar where you make eyes across a crowd, the tasteful sex scene (though only barely - tv ratings have really changed in the last twenty years), and the morning after when he leaves to go to a crime scene. The “gaze across the smoky dance floor” was easy enough; anyone with half a brain and a pulse would blush at Dieter’s intense stare, raised eyebrow, and sly grin, a signature of his questionable character. It raises goosebumps down your arms, his parted lips and the slip of his pink tongue resting just inside, the crinkle of his eyes when he knows he’s got you. If a man ever gave you that look you’d be in his bed in moments. 

Scratch that. Not just any man. Dieter’s the only one who could pull that off.

The blocking should have evened out your nerves, and in the moment you believed it did. Dieter was an absolute gentleman, even warmer than you hoped, as you waited to be called on set.

“Ever done a scene like this before?”

“First time. Can you tell?”

He thumbed through his thicker script.

“Wasn’t going to make you more nervous by pointing it out. But yes.”

You blew out a puff of air, making Dieter smirk even more as you crinkled your sheets.

“How do we…?”

“You know the direction?”

“Yeah, it seems…straightforward.”

“Well, today we’re just going to do the major movements - positions, angles, you know - and while they mark focus and shine a light directly up my asshole, we can talk.”

A burst of giggles pulled a wider smile onto his face, waiting for you to calm yourself.

“What do we talk about?”

“What’s comfortable for you. What would pull you out of the scene. What you’re open to. You’re our guest after all.”

So your afternoon was spent pantomiming the sex acts written for you and…talking. Which wasn’t supposed to be sexy, or like two hours of incredibly hot foreplay, but your body apparently didn’t get the memo.

“Anything you really don’t want me to touch? Besides the obvious,” Dieter asked, coming down from his hands to his elbows by your face. The tip of his nose brushed briefly against yours. A hairlight shifted in your periphery.

“My ribs are pretty ticklish,” you admitted, nodding to the assistant director Ramona when she moved on to the next setup. Scooping his hands behind your back, Dieter pulled you on top, showing how to sit a little further up on his stomach to fake the grinding. Unfortunately, the plush flesh against your core didn’t help with the ache.

“Here’s okay?” he asked, wrapping his hands just under your breasts, the tips of his thumbs barely grazing the swell. You nodded, body getting jolted again when the director Adiel asked for Dieter to scoot up the bed a few inches.

“My, uh…” you said, then stopped as you lost confidence. Dieter took his hands off your chest and laced them on his own. He looked up at you expectantly. “My…nipples are really sensitive, so I know I’ll have pasties on and everything, but, it’s like, uncomfortable if they get touched certain ways. So I just wanted to…warn you of that. It shouldn’t be a problem, just, ah, you know, just in case.” Your throat closed up, embarrassment at even saying anything crushing your tongue against the roof of your mouth.

“Thanks for telling me, I appreciate it.” Dieter patted your thigh and his smile was a little more tender than before. 

God, he really looked good underneath you.

“My skin’s sensitive too, scratches show up really clearly on it and it pisses off the cinematographer. So that’s the only thing we’ll have to watch out for there.” The shuffle of changing positions interrupts your conversation until you’re on your stomach with him pressed against your back.

“Sorry if I pop one too, it’s kind of par for the course with these. I’m good at keeping it under control for the most part.” You giggle into the pillow as he hovers over you. 

“My biggest advice?” Dieter murmurs, mouth close to your ear. You hum into the pillow. “Let yourself have fun. It’s not gonna feel natural, but that doesn’t mean it’s gotta feel cold. You won’t offend me if you go off script. I might too, if it feels right. If we’re having fun, the audience will too.”

The weight of his body bearing down on you drives any more anxieties out of your blissed-out brain.

The day of the sex scene comes quicker than you’d like, and the tender crush you’d been nursing for Dieter has become a panicked bird inside your ribcage. You’d spent the hours before preparing, mentally and physically with an indulgent morning routine, but nothing can stop your nerves when Dieter catches sight of you and gives a little wave. He’s in jeans and a black button-up, hair being artfully styled but sunglasses still on. One knee bounces in the chair but otherwise he looks cool as a cucumber. 

The sliver of golden chest you peep through the neck of his shirt sends you scurrying to your dressing room.

Everything leading up to the moment you step on set is distraction. Chatting with makeup, hair, props, with the fucking boom operator who looks just as confused as you are that you’re asking about good places to eat in the area. You talk with the intimacy coordinator, who gives you final notes on the scene. (“If Dieter makes you uncomfortable at all you give me The Eyes and I’ll correct him. No questions asked. I’ve worked with him for years, and I will cuss him out to his face.”) Eventually there’s no one left, and you’re standing alone clutching a water bottle to your chest when Dieter sidles up.

“Nervous?”

You almost jump out of your bathrobe. Which would suck because all you had on was a dark lace lingerie set, pair of pasties and the strange modesty patch protecting your lady bits. Sometimes seeing the behind-the-scenes really did erase the movie magic.

“Yeah, sorry. It’s a little more real now than the rehearsal,” you sigh, and Dieter’s bray of a laugh actually calms you. He puts a hand on your back and rubs firm, soothing circles that bring your heart back into an acceptable rhythm.

“You’ll do fine. And I’ve done this…eh, probably more times than it’s polite to mention. You’re in good hands.” He pulls off his sunglasses, treating you to rich brown eyes you could lose yourself in if you weren’t a professional, goddammit. 

“Close the set, please!” Ramona calls out, and the nonessential crew files out until it’s just you and Dieter and about eight other people who will be watching you writhe and moan. Taking in a deep breath and letting it out loudly, you shake your limbs and metaphorically gird your loins (since they already are pretty girded).

“Can I have actors on set please?” You stride up to the bed with as much confidence as you can muster, Dieter strolling up behind you. Now that he’s close he smells like fresh cotton and spice, a sharp shift from the earthier scents you’d been experiencing. Even a hint of mint from his breath, suddenly thankful you’d brushed and mouthwashed twice. 

“Positions for Scene 17.”

Yes, the first shot. Dieter would be hovering over you, kissing you as he pulls his shirt off. You would be in your bra and panties, slivers of your body visible in the frame but Dieter’s broad chest and unbuttoned waistband on display. Sliding the bathrobe off and placing it off camera, you arrange your limbs on the bed, hands shaking just a little now. Dieter stands at the foot, and if you weren’t about to simulate sex you’d swear he was devouring you with his heavy gaze.

Just getting into character. Breathe.

“Roll sound.”

“Speed.”

“Scene 17a, take one. Roll camera.”

“Rolling.”

“...Action.”

As the set drops to silence, you watch Dieter change from the slightly aloof but sympathetic actor to a brooding morally gray detective needing to bury his failures in a soft body. Despite your coaching, your eyes widen at the set of his jaw, how dark his eyes become when he wrenches off the offending button-up. He sinks to his knees between your thighs and hovers over you, hands pushed into the mattress on either side of your head. 

“Be good for me, yeah?” he husks, deeper and full of gravel. You nod, and he descends to crush your lips together. He urges your mouth open and works your lips together, but his tongue stays obediently behind his teeth. 

Fuck, for a second you forgot you were acting.

His hips dip, denim scraping along the inside of your thighs. He parts from your mouth with a gasp, forehead coming down to press against yours. He takes a deep breath, then…

“Cut! Reset.”

You blink slowly, Dieter already lifting back up to stand at the foot of the bed, rebuttoning his shirt. 

“Any notes?” he asks, voice so calm and clear you snap back to the reality of the situation. 

“When you’re kissing, pull her thighs up around you,” Adam says, Dieter’s head swiveling back.

“That all right by you?” he asks, smoothing the shirt on his skin. 

“Yeah, yeah, absolutely,” you answer, trying not to croak out the words. It was just the first take, it’s fine that you’re a little off-kilter. It would be easier by the second one.

It was not. Not by the third either, still swimming in the heady arousal that wafts from Dieter’s commanding presence. The director complimented how you clutched at his shoulders when he squeezed your thighs, which you tried to pass off as purposeful rather than hanging on for dear life. You were doomed, you’d bitten off more than you could chew and you were going to mess up this role and had no idea how to stop it.

Three more scenes to go.

You take a lap as they reposition the cameras, flip-flops slapping against the concrete floors of the soundstage as you debate if you have enough time to rub one out before going back, just to take the edge off.

“Actors back on set!”

Dammit.

Scene 18 has you riding Dieter, his hands guiding you until he bares his teeth (your signal to move with him) and rolls you on your back to pound you into the mattress. The lingerie is gone now, the cool air of the soundstage caressing over curves of your body that most people rarely see. Dieter averts his eyes when you disrobe, and carefully arranges himself below you. You’re feeling more centered, straddling Dieter with a little less fire burning between your legs, but your troubles take a sharp turn.

“Lean forward a little more, you’re half out of the shot.”

“A little faster.”

“Put your hand on his stomach about ten seconds in.”

“Never mind, back to how we had it before.”

“No, we said no hand, remember?”

“Do you need a break?”

Your body shakes after take 6, half from the exhaustion of lifting up on your knees over and over, your toes starting to go numb, and half with anxiety over forgetting another cue, or missing another note. The smile you keep shooting the director is getting strained, and mortifying tears start to prick your eyes. Dieter is watching your face closely, and with a pointed look at Ramona she calls a brief break. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, guiding you off his lap to sit on the edge of the bed. You cross your arms over your chest, and he reaches over to give you your robe. Draping his own over his lap, he strokes that soothing pattern of circles over your back as you shake your head.

“Sorry, it felt so easy in rehearsal, I’m having like, a weird lockup right now,” you stammer out.

“It’s okay,” he says, “I know what it is.” You look up at him with more desperation in your eyes than you mean. He nods sympathetically.

“It’s the cock sock, isn’t it?” 

He delivers the line completely deadpan. The shock of the phrase, plus the serious set of his brow, makes hysterical laughter burst from your lips. You bury your face in your hands and shake as Dieter’s deep chuckles tickle into your ear.

“That’s better, just need to get a little of that tension out,” he soothes, meeting your eyes with a charming smile. If only this could be a real moment, not something looked on by several men and women drinking coffees. Dieter seems like the kind of partner who would always make you comfortable, and seen, and absolutely satisfied.

That last thought tingles the baby hairs on the back of your neck as you move back into position. Straddling Dieter once again, the ridiculous genital covering out of sight, he grips your shoulders.

“Okay, let’s get back into character here, yeah? Remember your motivation?”

You nod. Not that the scene really needed a deep backstory, but you’d decided you were blowing off steam after a rough few days at work and an ex texting you to get back together. Dieter was mysterious, exciting, so different from your past boyfriends, and when he met your eyes across the room all you wanted was for him to wash the bad taste of their memories out. 

“Got it? Good. Here’s mine,” he says, leaning up while the last few preparations finish around you. Lips to your ear, he whispers only for you. 

“Another dead end, another long day, and I want something to distract me. I’ve got my eye on my usual type, but then I see you. You stand out in the crowd, bold, confident. You hold my stare, challenge me. I thought I wanted something easy, something mindless, but looking at you, I changed my mind. I wanted something with substance, someone to give as good as she gets, and I know you’ll give me even better. My cock got hard just looking at you, you’re fucking perfect. And then when you let me buy you a drink and you criticized my whiskey choice, I wanted to bend you over the bar right there. So I’m taking you home to bury my troubles, but you can surprise me as many more times as you like. I like to be surprised. I want you to take me as much as I’m taking you.”

Dieter lies back with a hell of a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Action!”

Your body moves with an ease that had been eluding you, liquid rolls as you take your time riding him. His hands come up to your hips, urging you faster, and instead you grind down on him, pressing your hands into his chest and pinning him into the bed. You’re not supposed to be fighting him, but it feels so right to arch and rock harder into him. His bare legs flex against your ass, meeting your hips with his thrusts. You can imagine how good he’d feel if you weren’t faking this, how his powerful thrusts would hit your g-spot. His hand cups the back of your neck, teeth bared in warning as he rolls you onto your back. 

“You’re so sexy,” he growls in your ear, hooking your legs around his waist and smacking his hips into yours. The impact is softer than it looks, aided by your moans and writhing beneath him. He goes for a handful more thrusts before “Cut!” is shouted again.

“There we go! I like the improv, can we do just one more for coverage?” Ramona says, giving you an approving smile when you immediately get into position. 

“I could go all night,” Dieter shoots back, earning an eye roll from half the crew and a dry mouth from you when he flicks his gaze back and winks. 

The second take flows even better, your bodies finally speaking to each other. Dieter palms your ass, you slow your hips. He urges you to go faster, you grind down on him. He grits his teeth as you push his chest, nails just about to bite into the supple flesh. His eyes capture yours over and over, and the hunger inside them is some damn good acting. 

The cues, the flip, and you’re on your back again, but this time Dieter drops his head to cover your breast with his hot mouth. You arch, a strangled gasp as you wait for his tongue, his teeth, but he works his jaw against the flesh and nothing more.

Fuck, you want something more.

When he pops his mouth off he resumes the script, thrusting frantically into you but with more force this time, even an edge of desperation. You meet his energy, throwing your head back and letting him yank you against him over and over. The slap, the friction, this gorgeous man before you all makes slick weep from your untouched cunt, clit aching for the act you’re simulating.

“Cut! Excellent, really good work guys, you’re hitting your groove here. Let’s move on to 19.”

Dieter stays above you for a few seconds more, your chests heaving. The lust bleeds away to a soft smile as he pats your side.

“Good work, you take direction really well.”

You bite your tongue to stop yourself from saying, “Just from you.”

You take one more walk around the soundstage to try and calm your rebellious body, but the moment you see Dieter again, kneeling in the bed with the blankets bunched in front of his hips, it’s all dashed away. Even his respectful touches as he guides you to your stomach, checking in if you’re comfortable, all burn across your skin. You just need to get through this scene.

“Action!”

This is indeed the finale. Dieter would finish above you, pounding into you from behind. You were supposed to lie there and take it, let him cuss and choke into the back of your shoulder before his breathing slows and you cut to the next morning. You could do that. You totally could. Most men you’ve been with hump you into the bed like this and it does very little for you. This would be fine.

The moment Dieter starts rutting against your ass you know you’re done for. You’re too worked up, and the position lightly teases your nipples. A wrinkle of blanket rubs against your mound just enough to relieve your clit, and while you know you should stop you can’t help but grind into the bed just enough to light up your nerves. Dieter hovers above you, thick forearms planted by your shoulders as he hisses and grunts his way to a fake climax. You press back against him, giving your own satisfied smile as he drops his forehead between your shoulders and rolls his hips again. 

“Not bad, can we go one more time?”

Shit. You’d hoped that would be enough, arousal rising dangerously between your thighs. Rearranging the sheets to deny you pleasure, you catch Dieter slumping to one side and watching you. It’s intense, being in his stare, but also warming and protective. When you lie back on your stomach and give him a nod that you’re ready, he leans down and whispers in your ear.

“If you want it, you can have it. I won’t tell anyone. You take it when it comes.”

You barely get a moment of shock before the cameras are rolling and the scene begins again. Did Dieter just…insinuate that he’d cover for you if you came? The thought makes wetness gush between your thighs, now lacking the friction you were relishing in earlier. The need aching in your cunt makes you roll your hips back against Dieter, a strained “fuck” spitting through his teeth. He grabs your hips and guides you against his narrow ones, not quite hitting where you want but the snap and slap of him against you still works you up more than it should. You cry out, bury your face in the pillow, fist the blankets as he chases his release. The practiced groan signals the end, this time his cheek pressing against your back and a kiss dotting your spine. 

Thank God. You were finally in the clear.

“I think we need one more, guys. I want a little more…intimacy this time. You both okay with that?”

Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.

“I don’t…” you started to protest until Dieter’s hand finds its way to the back of your neck.

“I think you can do it. I know you can. One more time?” he asks, but in his eyes is a promise that makes you nod, even against your better judgment.

This time I’ll make you cum.

Dieter changes tactics when the cameras roll. He starts off fast, yanking you back against him. Sitting up on his heels he arches you off the bed with his expansive hands. His thighs cage you in, squeezing tight. Something thick and soft slides against your ass, and you realize Dieter is hard behind you, cock still wrapped up but the weight of it against you obvious. You want him between your legs, fat head sliding over your clit, but you let him adjust you to exactly where he wants. 

With Dieter’s guidance you rock and writhe against him, drips of praise reaching your ears. With a deeply groaned, “Fuck, baby,” he folds over you, stomach pressing into your back. His fingers lace with your own, hugging you to his chest as he pumps his hips in long strokes. His cock nudges your lower back, little gasps keening out. He noses your cheek and guides you to turn your face to the camera. 

“This okay?” he mouths into your ear and you let out a, “Yes, please,” loud enough to mean anything for the camera. You slide a hand into his hair, gripping the thick curls to a stuttered sigh of pleasure. The pressure and motion finally gives you the stimulation you need, and it’s barely any time before your orgasm barrels to the forefront. You tighten your grip on Dieter’s large hand and school your face just enough to not look like you’re cumming through the hottest scene you will ever act in.

“That’s it, take it, take it baby, you’re doing so well, fucking god, look at you,” Dieter groans into your ear. He presses you deeper into the mattress, muting the uncontrollable bucking of your hips for the camera. Teeth scrape along your jaw in tender nips as he stutters to his fake finish, a guttural groan and relaxing of his body signaling the end of the scene. But Dieter lifts up on one elbow and pinches your chin between two fingers, turning your face to his. He looks at you like a mystery to be solved, like a gift, and then kisses you, slow and indulgent.

“Cut! Excellent, loved the ad libbing Dee, but you gotta stop saying fuck, we’ll have to cut that out,” the director says. Dieter laughs against your back, and the warmth of his skin makes you want to melt into the bed and never leave. 

“You doing okay?” he asks, lifting up off you and tugging both your bathrobes over to give you some modesty. He fists his own over his swollen erection, a little pink high in his cheeks and sweat along his hairline.

“Yeah, perfect, absolutely,” you say lightly, legs wobbling when you try to stand up. His eyes drag over you, a prideful smile playing on his lips as you try to cover up your dazed affect. “One more scene?” you say brightly.

“Yeah,” he says, distracted. “One more scene.”

The final shot of your day is the following morning, soft yellow light traded for the cool blue of daylight streaming in. You’re facing away from the camera, Dieter waking and looking over at your naked shoulder. He sits up and strokes along the curve of your waist, making you sigh in your sleep. He watches you with a mix of regret and resolution, kisses your shoulder, and gets out of bed.

The scene is done in one take. You wish it took all day.

The end of the shoot is quiet, taking off makeup and getting back into your public clothes. You strain to hear someone coming to your dressing room, a certain wild-haired brown-eyed man giving you a sendoff. A kind word, a piece of advice, you’d take anything. But he doesn’t come, and you leave the soundstage with your check and thanks and promises of references. 

The drive back to your apartment is quiet, music even feeling too loud for the moment. Weaving through LA traffic, the moments of your day slip through your mind like silk ribbons.

You suppose this is what meeting your heroes is like. A moment in the sunlight of their presence, then back to the real world of auditions and day jobs and hoping your parents never see this particular part of your portfolio. The dishes need washing, calls need to be made, and you have to go on with your life. It was an excellent experience, albeit a slightly inappropriate one. But if that’s the worst you got up to with Dieter then it was fairly tame.

The fleeting thought of what you’d actually hoped you’d get up to with Dieter comes and leaves without incident. 

By the time you get home you’re planning what casting call you’d go to tomorrow, making your grocery list, and considering if you can get away without doing laundry tonight. Which is why you walk past the bouquet of flowers in the atrium without checking who it’s for. Waiting for the elevator, however, curiosity gets the better of you and you peek at the card.

Your name. It’s your name on the perfectly imperfect bouquet of garden roses and eucalyptus. You’re opening the card as your cell phone vibrates in your pocket. Fishing it out, you greet the Midnight Alley casting agent on the other end.

“Are you open to a semi-recurring role?” 

“W-what?”

“Yeah, the director and AD were really impressed with your chemistry with Bravo. They’ve been trying to write him a love interest in the show, but he’s turned down all the potential actresses and guest stars. No chemistry, bad chemistry, whatever, but the point is he asked for them to consider you.”

Your hands shake, the clean white card pinched between your fingers.

I think we can do better together than that. Dinner?

-DB

“What do you think?”

Your heart flutters as you set it free.

“When can I start?”

END

[cryptixani]

[JDVN] No Visits After Ten

-

absolute non-proofread brainrot, hope you freaks enjoy <3

pairing: john doe x gn! reader

warnings: nsfw, dick pics, john doe learning how to work a phone

when you first convinced john doe to get a phone, it was mainly to help him combat his seperation anxiety, especially while you were at work. while it was sweet that he wanted to have you within reach every second of every day, it was also tiring and not very practical in terms of productivity.

doe was a little hesitant with the device at first. as curious as he was about the human contraption, he couldn't fathom how it could possibly enable him to have the means to contact you wherever, whenever. so you explained.

"your phone has it's own unique number, and mine does too. and i can save your number to my phone, and vice versa. then, when you type out a message, or hit the call button, it'll contact my number and i'll see it and be able to respond, no matter where i am."

it was a very basic way of explaining things, but doe seemed to just about grasp it, and you let him try it out and play around with it. he'd spam you with messages from the living room while you were in the kitchen making dinner.

hi

hello

hello

hello

hello

i love you

i love you

i love you

you glance down at your sceen and sigh, quickly typing out a response to send back to him.

i love you too, doe.

you heard an elated giggle come from the living room a few moments later, and doe ran into the kitchen to hug you.

"my love, look at this! i got your message back so so so quickly, isn't that neat?! you typed this out with your own cute little fingers and sent it especially to me and now it's on my device and i can look at it whenever i want for the rest of time-"

"yes, doe, but please let go, dinner's about to burn-"

-

doe actually got fairly used to working a smartphone pretty quickly, you realized. it did kind of ease his seperation anxiety when you were at work, but you were also spammed with messages practically every five minutes. and when he learned that he could send you photographs he took? you didn't even want to count the amount of blurry photos of pigeons you received, second only to photos of your own home.

one night, when you were alone in bed, up way too late and scrolling through your socials, you got another message from doe. he hadn't messaged you in a couple hours now, so you had assumed he was asleep in his own bed, though now you had reason to believe otherwise.

can't sleep.

you frown, wondering what could be keeping your eldritch boyfriend up.

any reason why? you replied.

his response came in a couple seconds. doe was an abnormally fast typer, just like how he was an abnormally fast talker.

thinking about you, my love. you're so pretty.

you raise a brow, staring at your screen. you're unsure how to reply. sure, doe compliments you a lot, but this particular situation has never happened before. he's never been unable to sleep thinking about you, at least he's never told you so much. you're about to type out a response when he send you another message.

i love you so much. i wish i had visited you today. i miss you.

you blink. visited, as in broken into your house. you were starting to mind less and less but it was technically still breaking and entering. still, while it was hard to get him to break that habit of his, you were glad he was following your rule of 'no visits past 10pm', after the Window Incident.

you manage to type your response, hitting send.

i love you too, doe. we'll see each other again tomorrow, don't worry. go to sleep now <3

can't.

his quick, brief reply makes you more confused. you stare at your screen, face illuminated blue within your dark room. you wait for him to elaborate. instead, he sends you a photo. your eyes widen, face growing hot. a photo of his hard, flushed cock covers your screen. precum leaks from the tip. doe's hand rests atop his mess of dark pubes, holding the base, sharp black nails lightly digging into the skin.

you feel your heart quicken a little, a shift of warmth in your abdomen. you can't take your eyes off your phone screen. where did doe learn about sending nudes? your mouth is watering and your mind is racing, and it hits you that you're yet to reply.

oh.

it was the first response that came to your mind, though now that you've sent it, you're afraid it might give him the wrong idea, that you don't appreciate the photo, because you very much do-

another photo is sent to the chat, the same image, but no- you realize the little white triangle in the center and the timestamp in the bottom corner mark this as a video, doe can send videos now? you don't give yourself time to process this information before you hit play.

you're practically entranced at the sight of his shaking hand pumping his leaking cock, trying to keep a slow pace at first, but it doesn't take long to devolve into desperate and fast. his hips buck up in time, and when you turn your volume up a little you realize you can hear him panting and whining and moaning behind the shaking camera. your name is repeated multiple times, and then doe groans and squirms and mumbles "please please please please-" just before he cums. you're staring at his wildly bucking hips, having never been this desperate to feel him against you as you are now, the warmth in the pit of your stomach almost uncomfortable now. the video ends and you're left in silence, though the sound of your keyboard follows shortly after. you type your response, send it, and put your phone away to shove a hand under your pajama pants, knowing that soon enough, it wouldn't be your own.

doe stares at the message you had just sent him, wide eyes with pupils so expanded they leave only a thin ring of yellowish white. he didn't even reply, dropping his phone on his bed, screen still on while he rushed to get some clothes back on.

i'm making an exception to the no visits after 10 rule.

[twisted-wonderland-shenanigans]

OKAY OKAY...hear me out— Monster au braintot,

Cheka having a lil play date with Mini!Yuu

Like— NRC will be in complete shambles. Peace? pftt—what's that? Don't know her–

it's probably gonna be like the the disaster girl meme

Crowley: *sitting in a burning office* "...this is fine."

Narrator: It was, in fact, not fine.

Pfft, oh my god, I love seeing all this brainrot silliness and cuteness you guys have! It enables me to create sweet scenarios or unleash pure chaotic gremlin shenanigans on Twisted Wonderland! 🤣

Honestly, the only reason the ida of a play date even happened in the first place was because Cheka snuck into the school to see his uncle and he wound up playing with mini!Yuu the whole day. This was a blessing in Leona's book...at first.

Then the researchers approached him to arrange more playdates after seeing the positive connection the two had and stressing the importance of the child's developmental skills and emotional growth. "Whether they're monster or human, it's important for Yuu to have someone close to their age to grow and develop," one told him when he first tried to turn down the idea of his nephew visiting more often.

Needless to say, he didn't have much room to argue once Cheka asked his parents and his sister-in-law made the call. And so the first of many supervised playdates was arranged.

At first, the kids were perfectly content to do arts and crafts in a small part of the library. Paint, glitter, pipe cleaners, puff balls, glue, popsicle sticks...anything creative that could be done, they made it. Cheka had fun drawing and painting stuff for his uncle and parents while Yuu had fun creating a masterpiece they thought the staff and their favorite big brothers would like (which later do get put up in their rooms/on the fridge). Everything was going smoothly...

And then the supervisor stepped outside, and when they came back...wellllll...

"How did you two get glitter on the walls?!"

"Forget the walls, how did they get footprints on the ceiling??"

"I was only gone for five minutes! How could they have made such a mess in that short amount of time?"

"Look Uncle Leona! We're really close now!"

The two toddlers were giggling happily as the researchers looked around in pure confusion. Leona, who had come to pick Cheka up to send him home again, couldn't help but stare. "How the hell did you two get stuck together with regular glue?" he asked.

"We were trying to make our own slime goo," Cheka told him, lifting his hand up and pulling Yuu's hand up with the gesture. "But...it grew legs and ran away somewhere."

"...please tell me you're joking..."

"His name's Mr. Sprinkles!" Yuu chirped happily. "Can we keep him?"

It was later discovered that somehow someone accidentally mixed up a container of animation powder with glitter, resulting in the little science project literally becoming animated. By the end of the day, "Mr. Sprinkles" had terrorized quite a few students before eventually being caught and kept in a glass jar where little hands wouldn't be able to easily access and free the artificial monster.

Yuu is already asking when Cheka can come over to play again. This time there is going to be much more supervision to ensure nothing like that happens again though! 😂

[rea-can-yeet]

This is more self-indulgent to me but hahaha it's just that my little cousin wanted to play pretend winx club which reminded me that there's a brainrot I've read before about creator/reader being a fairy in winx club and now I present to you an addition to that idea.

Yes, I'm aware that this will expose me being an avid fan of the show, it's a guilty pleasure hnggg, so I kinda know a lot of the world building and lore of this show as well as the magic/spell rules and culture. But I'll try not to drown y'all with info dump and only give the necessary things uwu

Like imagine--

Reader is a member of the winx club, and the founders of this club (aka the show's casts) have already graduated a few years ago so reader is a second year since i wanted this to be near our irl decade, and is currently honing her enchantix powers that she just acquired by sacrificing herself to save Billie Eilish from an accident. I mean who wouldn't?

So yeah, she's training and stuff. And this is where we slide genshin. Why was she able to save Billie when she's a fairy studying in alfea? Das because she's just like bloom who is a fairy that grew up on earth, meaning she can go home for some vaca, which happend to be the vaca where she died saving her idol. Since she's from earth, that means she's very cultured, right? Hell yeah, she brings her pc and other stuff to surf the internet and play one of her fave games, GENSHIN IMPACT.

Now her surface origin is out of the way, les go deeper. Remember how bloom turned out to be some fairy from a somewhat erased fire fairy kingdom? It's kinda like that with reader but I'll get to that and what kind of fairy she is. As much as I want her to be biologically from earth like roxy i need to stick to just ONE idea TODAY

Everything is all fine and dandy in alfea until the head mistress has assigned some assignments to the second years that have obtained enchantix powers. They are to go to their respective realms through the infinite ocean (in case no one knows about what the infinite ocean is, it's basically an underwater realm that connects all the oceans from different realms like earth, solaria, titania etc etc.). The reason behind this assignment is to assess whether they have the potential to become the next fairy guardians of their realms. Yeah sure, they're only on the enchantix level and still on the way to belivix and so on, but potential can be monitored clearly enough with a fairy that has enchantix, and also for the sake of this brainrot so this is reasonable.

Now, the assignment is simple. Go to the teachers that have sirenix (only fairies with sirenix can gain access to IO wherever they want) to be sent to the infinite ocean, the pillars of the infinite ocean will cast a spell on the fairies that enables them to travel through universes and realms of oceans to reach the oceans of the realms where their powers originated (ex. A solar fairy will automatically be sent to the realm of Solaria, a tech fairy to Zenith, etc etc.).

This spell is strong and has NEVER made a mistake (they're spells casted by the pillars for crying out loud). Basically, this spell just sends the fairies out to the currents and the fairy's subconscious and biology will do the rest as it drives them to their roots. Once you've reached said realm, congrats sis you're confirmed as a fairy citizen of your mother realm and therefore qualified to vote or to be a fairy guardian candidate- you passed test one and on to test two.

Knowing what kind of fairy the reader is, of course she already knows where her ass is going. If she ignores her other powers that seem abnormal from her fairy element (and kept it to herself and away from the headmistress cuz they're not really a concern yet and just regard it as her still not completely in control of her powers, I mean they're just mild and easily ignored additions, barely even a hindrance) she's sure to end up to one realm in mind.

But instead of emerging from the ocean waves to see the expected realm's culture on the beach, you're met with an oh so familiar place, the very beach you started out as a traveler.

Which is weird cuz this place is supposed to be fiction and the spell of the pillars of the infinite ocean are known to never make mistakes.

Since you're in the middle of an assignment that determines your potential to be a fairy guardian, you should start to worry a bit. But who are you to NOT check this place out? It's not like you wanted to be a guardian anyway, the assignment was to see potential, not to be given the title. You go and explore, excitement in your veins like the same way it did during your first day in alfea.

Aaaannd then all went down hill from there.

So yeah, I'll end this idea here... Leaving a little comic down bellow.

Oh? What kind of fairy the reader is? Well, when facing the acolytes and having no other choice than to transform, she does so in front of them. Of course, it could be any element really, but since the idea is about how reader's winx powers are seen as a sign of her being the creator, it has to be something outside of the vision elements in genshin. I wanted to use tecna's power but that's an idea for another time.

So imagine, the cult cornering the creator that they assumed to be an imposter

and suddenly she pulls out a musa move.

Music for optimum experience and nostalgia

Yup, reader is a chaotic Fairy of Music.

[earthtooz]

BRAINROT☹️ THOUGHTS ON BEING CHILDHOOD FRIENDS WITH THE ITOSHIS?? me personally, i think that yall would be close when younger but as the boys started to focus entirely on the sport, reader would sorta feel left out but u still talk to them at like school and stuff but when sae leaves for spain, reader and rin gets closer but rin still is focused on the sport to be able to play w his brother then BOOM sae comes back and traumatizes rin and reader is just torn bc they wanna help rin but at the same time rin is like 👹👹👹 IDK WHAT TO THINK OF TUIS ANYMORE ITS BENE ON MY MIND FOR SO LONG anyway i also want to fight itoshi rin but also i want to fight itoshi sae . i hope u are having a wonderful day!! ❤️ -🍰 anon (also i go by she/they!!)

YES I THINK ABT CHILDHOOD FRIENDS TO STRANGERS TO BEST FRIENDS TO LOVERS WITH RIN SO MUCH!!!!!!! I WILL BE RAMBLING ABT IT NOW BECAUSE YOU HAVE ENABLED ME, 🍰 ANON! THANK YOU!

like oh my gosh, imagine being friends with the itoshi brothers from a young age but never feeling particularly close to rin bc he always looked up to his brother and was like 'well, i'd prefer to spend time with sae than you' but in a 'that is your brother so understandable' way. but you spend time with them a lot bc of your parents and how close they are.

you basically go to the same schools your whole life, from pre-school, elementary, middle school and high school. since you and rin are in the same year, you end up in similar classes sometimes.

but it wasn't until sae's departure that you truly started to click with rin. you volunteer to help him practice at a field nearby his house, he thanks you by sharing ice cream with you, you exchange mangas and although you end up traumatised by the genre he likes, you both keep it up.

you like him because he's blunt, honest, and straightforward, but despite it, he's still a kind and gentle soul who has big dreams. he likes you because you're great company, a friend who takes the time to understand him and his dream.

just when you think you and rin are inseparable, all of a sudden, there's a rift.

rin isn't rin anymore.

there's a storm in those usually-calm teal irises of his and when you look him in the eye, you cringe at how harsh his glare is. what happened?

you don't recognise sae anymore either. the excitement he left japan with has dissipated, what did soccer do to him? was kicking around a few balls that deep?

the tension between the two brothers is thick and suffocating. you now dread hanging out with them, feeling worse and worse every time you left their house to return to the safety of your home. rin looks at you as if he can't stand you, sae looks at you as if you didn't exist.

school isn't the same anymore. you haven't spoken to rin in about three months by this point and watching him stalk through the hallways alone hurt. even though he was always introverted, he always had at least one classmate by his side, but to see him pushing everyone away just like he did to you, it felt cruel.

the first time you try to talk to him, he casts you aside, strikes you with his words and leaves you behind in an empty classroom.

the second time you try to talk to him, he does the same.

the third time you try, you've given up the nice treatment, forcing him to talk and blocking his path. he only caves at seeing how relentless you are and sits down begrudgingly, insulting you with words like 'mediocre' or 'lukewarm' and although you flinch at them a little, you want to get to the bottom of what was bothering him.

he owed you it. if he could provide you with an explanation of why he ditched you, you would leave him alone.

rin wasn't planning on it; opening up til all of his memories were bared and pulled out of his brain. he was just going to say something alone the lines of 'sae was a jerk' but seeing how attentive you were, how keen you were to actually listen rather than push him away, he feels like breaking down.

despite how cold he is, how mature itoshi rin may seem, he is, at his core, a caged young boy who still has a dream.

a young boy overwhelmed by spite and rage.

you're possibly the only one who understands the depth of what happened to him. having stuck by him and sae long enough to know the magnitude of their shared dream, you're just as shocked and stunned when rin relives what happened.

you end the interaction by asking if he wants to practice shooting with you providing him the soccer balls.

he agrees. a lot softer.

from that day onwards, rin is still the hardened boy he has grown to be, but he lets you close. goes to get ice cream with you after school, discusses the latest chapter of a manga you were both reading, hangs out with you sometimes during school. there's an air of awkwardness around it still, but there's nothing better than the feeling of having itoshi rin back by your side.

then he goes off to blue lock LOL!

[inkblot22]

HII THERE!! I’M BACK FOR MORE ASKS IF IT’S OKAY ♥️♥️ any riddle thoughts? :0 HRU BTW

Hello! Welcome back, you're always welcome here! I'm happy to see you here again, and I'm doing relatively decent, considering I'm currently having brainrot over a very specific character that is not from twst. Also tell me why I drafted this and then left without posting and the cut??? moved???

Anyways, I have a little confession to make. I do have Riddle thoughts, but he's honestly my least favorite twst character. You can cancel me for that later. For now, we have HEADCANONS to do!! Once again, this got way out of hand lmao. I remembered to add how I think he might smell this time too, thankfully :)

Uh, anyhow, tw for captivity, abuse, concerning use of magic, enabling behavior, violent descriptions, and other general yandere themes.

+ Okay so despite his general disposition, Riddle feels like he'd be slightly less strict with his darling. Don't misunderstand, he's still strict, but his favoritism shows in little things.

+ If Riddle is infatuated with you, you can get away with a lot more than say, Ace. Ace is not allowed to wear anything yellow on Tuesdays, and loses his head if he does so. You are allowed to drink honey-sweetened lemonade at nine. That kind of thing.

+ This translates in your private life. No one, not even Riddle, can maintain such an uptight persona at all times.

+ Once again, don't get me wrong. Riddle is kind of just like that, but he isn't as uptight as he is in public. Maybe it's your influence.

+ He definitely blames you. You go to bed late, and he likes to pretend that he's in control of your dreams, so he waits for you to fall asleep. He wants to know what's so great about soda, so he buys it for you and drinks half of it before you can have any. (Riddle seems like the type of guy to have grown up with spinach brownies and only mints as far as sweets go, if you know what I mean.)

+ He's definitely happy he's met you. He's even happier that he has you under his thumb, so to speak. He's experiencing so many new, wonderful things, and you're becoming a better person for it, at least in his eyes.

+You're expected to follow the rules, even if you get away with a little bit of bending and breaking here and there. You have to attend every unbirthday and every birthday, every tea party and every croquet game, and you have to be on your best behavior. Otherwise, you're in deep yogurt. More on that in a moment.

+ Uh, anyways, he's very clingy behind closed doors. I imagine if you get close to him, he smells kind of like lemon, pine, and the barest sweet note of strawberry. It's actually pretty nice, and you've started smelling similar since he demands you use his bath products as well.

+ Riddle uses a few pet names for you. Mostly "dear," "darling," "beloved," but less common and only when you're particularly distraught is "rose petal." You're his delicate little rose petal. This is only behind closed doors.

+ By the way, being lovey-dovey in public brings the wrong kind of flush to his face, so if you want to piss him off, feel free to kiss his cheek whenever you're out on one of your privileged walks.

+ Speaking of which! Riddle does get angry with you a LOT. When he's mad, you need to either move quick to diffuse the situation, or accept the impending punishment.

+ He doesn't have mood swings so much as an eager temper, so more often than not he'll just become slightly offended by a little thing you do and then think about it for a little too long.

+ Punishments are sporadic and cruel. They range from being forced to write 100 times on a chalkboard "I will not disobey," to him using his signature spell on you.

+ In the case you're not magic, Off With Your Head feels physically painful. Your limbs feel as though they're made of lead and your skin tingles with something like electricity. For a mage, it's a more emotional feeling of loss, as well as the weight of the collar, but for non-mages, it's like getting your blood forcefully sucked through your skin with a million metal straws, all hooked up to car batteries and conducting electricity.

+ That's not including the weight of the collar, by the way. The collar always leaves a red ring around your neck, a raised, irritated bruise.

+ Riddle has a tendency to not apologize when he's wrong, too, especially to you. He wants to stay the correct person in the room. He can't have you thinking less of him because he didn't like the color you wore and then threw a tantrum because of it.

+ On a completely different note, someone who sees what Riddle puts you through and says jack all is (drumroll, please🥁🥁🥁) you guessed it! Trey Clover, everyone's favorite childless dilf.

+ Trey doesn't let you completely suffer. Sometimes he'll talk Riddle down, and this one time that Riddle lost his temper completely and struck you, Trey was right there with a bag of frozen corn, but other than that?

+ You're on your own, dearest. It's you versus Riddle versus the Twisted world you're stuck in.