#and i mean both that bullying was going on and i was personally targeted as part of that

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

honestly it's been really healing being back to actively contributing things and writing out thoughts on tumblr the last week or so, because while twitter tends to be easier for me to write out Thoughts on without getting overwhelmed, the environment in the twitter fandom circles i'm interested in is not only infested with antis but cliqueish in a way that is caustic to the fucking soul if you try to express a thought that's more than three sentences long--a hundred times over if you're autistic in slightly the wrong way--and it's incredibly reassuring to come back to an environment where the very kindest and most inclusive people toward you are not clearly thinking the r-slur the entire time they interact with you lmao

[dotthings]

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[vatelixx]

On the concept of ‘want’,

Spencer Reid x afab!BAU!reader (written with early-ish seasons Spencer in mind)

SMUT!! (and fluff, and aftercare because im not a total hedonist), allusions to both Spencer and Reader being switches (but he’s mostly just down bad), autistic Spencer (the way it should be), mean reader (to everyone but him), reader has a very very high IQ when it comes to everything but a pretty genius— Spencer just wants that cookie so fucking bad.

Warnings: sub spencer (but also not entirely; he talks about human anatomy as he destroys her), maaaaaybe slight corruption kink (what? who wrote that there???), mentions of prior bullying and insecurity, first time (for Spencer, yess devirgin that hot nerd!!— do you think the BAU will get him a cake after?), brief mentions of past hypersexuality for reader, kinda rlly domestic. Some undertones of degradation but predominantly praise. Begging, crying (pussy so good he cried), etc etc

w.c: 5k (I feed)

a/n: Spencer’s first time getting fucked, my first time writing smut (we’re both going through it here). I’ve been watching too much Criminal Minds recently, so i’ve reverted back to my tumblr roots (im home i’m home). This is a new acc so like…. hi!!!

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Right person, right time. It’s a concept that Spencer Reid is more than aware of. Define luck, at surface level, it’s a made-up hypothesis, idealistic, fantastical. Conjured up to aid the desperate (or the delusional). It’s something he refused to humour, obstinate to the notion, well, that was until you came spitballing into his life, sharp features, sharper tongue. You could cut with your words alone, a weapon to the BAU, jagged and fast-thinking, and so entirely unattainable. Rorschach tests, and an endless sea of profilers, it doesn’t matter— he’s not sure anyone is ever capable of truly pinpointing you.

Rocky start— after you became a permanent member to the team, it took months to coerce you into dropping your guard. A year and 14 days, to be exact.

But, it was possible. Hardened words and blunt comments shifted into something more with time. A gravitational pull, perhaps, that led to evolution— you, softer with him, more tender than you’ve ever showcased before.

Maybe it was that night when he told you about highschool, about what they did to him, boys like him, who were too intellectual for their own good. Different, in every sense of the word. Bullying at such a young, impressionable age can have prominent effects, chronic stress inflicted on an underdeveloped brain, they tied him to goal posts, stripped him naked, endless torment that he still carries with him now. Maybe that’s why you lowered your defenses. Put down the sword.

And sure, he never expected anything, nor asked for anything. He was definite that he wouldn’t get to experience cliche-dating. Longing glances and anticipated moments. It’s not like he was ever the most appealing candidate, too nervous, too neurodivergent. It’s hard to grow out of the mentality that no, everyone isn’t making fun of you, not when it consumed the entirety of his adolescence. That you can walk into a room, and not be seen, targeted, as an outcast. He’s just different. But he’s also human, and the chemicals in his brain do make him want.

You apparently. Because, you looked at him softly once, and he was done. Ruined. Gone for good. Or, in Morgan’s personal opinion, whipped.

And illogically, you wanted him too. That wasn’t ever part of the equation.

But theres a pattern now— dates every weekend. Movies, cafes, museums, an endless onslaught of you. Because somehow, thanks to luck, you reciprocated. He’ll never understand why, you’re too beautiful (it’s a hazard), but he tries. He tries.

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December. A haze of christmas markets and blanketing coldness. You kiss him outside and he thinks he might be dying. You make him burn cold. He’s a logical person, so obviously he’s aware that he’s only freezing because your hands are shoved in his pockets, a desperate bid to seek warmth, but regardless, it’s more than he ever expected.

He laughs against your lips, fingers gripping the front of your coat as he draws you backwards so that you’re resting against a wall. “Mm..” he hums, “You should kiss me more often.”

Everyone knows. The entire team is aware of this, an unspoken agreement that your lingering moments and aimless touching are not platonic in the slightest. You work with profilers, secrets are never quite effective. Everyone knows, but it’s taboo, something that needs to be left undisturbed. Do they expect you to break him? Does he? Maybe, maybe it would be worth it— to hurt for you, because it’s always been you. He’ll take anything, he’s not greedy. He’ll live off scraps if he has to, anything to satiate this want that burns solely for you.

“Actually.. you should just always be kissing me,” he suggests, tone soft, “Every day of the week. All the time. And—“ he laughs, “You should also stop stealing body warmth. It’s rude. Hypothermia usually occurs when body temperature dips to around 95F, oh oh but there are so many factors to consider—“

“Is this you trying to imply you’re cold?” you ask.

“Perhaps. Or maybe i’m implying you should be working harder to warm me up.”

You’ve grown soft, he thinks. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this level of affection. But its okay, you justify, mostly because it’s him. Spencer, and his pretty smile, and strange habits (sitting cross legged on tables, drinking coffee with excessive sugar, endless facts and a plethora of soft yearning glances at you when you’re interrogating— as if you’re not tearing an unsub to pieces). It’s terrifying, constant eggshells, because you can’t hurt him. Not like the others, distant fragments of your past.

You laugh in response to his comment, admiring the sight of him: flushed, with swollen lips and dilated eyes. He deserves to be like this, so thoroughly assured that despite all odds, you’re invested. All cards on the table. “You have a lot of requests, boy genius.”

He smiles boyishly. You’re hard lines, sure, a blade that can draw blood, but somehow, somehow, he’s always left unscathed. “Alright,” he answers, “You want requests? Here’s one, stay the night. Come over, stay over, i’ll cook breakfast and try not to burn it— and, and you can have the good side of the bed.”

“Spence,” you mutter, because of course there’s an underlying intention to ‘staying over’ and you're trying to be good here. To not let this fall into your past mistakes of sex and inevitable self-inflicted disgust. A cyclical cycle that clings to your skin. Everything is so new to him, the intimacy, the affection, and it’s nice being able to witness it— to see his reactions to innocuous touches, always disbelieving that he’s capable of this.

Fresh-eyes, so untainted to the sharpness of modern ‘love’.

You cup his face, god, under the dim shadows of the streetlight he’s beautiful. It’s a little alarming to be honest. More so disheartening really, because despite how much you remind him, he never believes you— obstinately refusing your compliments, as if you’d ever mock him. No, he’s different. He’s tender and disarming, and sometimes it feels unholy to touch him with calloused hands.

But, to Spencer, there is nothing unholy to this; the second you touch him, the entire universe crashes down into a singular moment.

“Just stay the night,” he reaffirms. It’s taken him over a month to get to this point, to be able to voice his wants, to comprehend his wants. Now, his thumb traces its way down the side of your face, tangible, real. “And tomorrow morning, there’ll be coffee and pancakes and—“ he laughs, “And there won’t be any regrets. I promise.”

You’re looking at him, wide-eyed and slightly disbelieving (because he’s somehow stumbled through the minefield of you without any consequences). He leans forward, his forehead resting against yours. “Don’t make me beg. I will beg.”

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To confirm, he makes you incautious, irrational, willing to blatantly disregard any sort of control. Of course you end up at his apartment; the moment he mentioned begging, you were already half-way down the street.

Spencer’s place is… well, it’s everything you’d expect of him. Scattered novels adorning the floor, a mess of untidy thoughts, neglected papers on science, endless open textbooks left half-abandoned for other pursuits. It’s so him, clean but discombobulated.

He wants to apologize, make excuses for the lack of order, he probably should. He doesn’t do that though. He only crosses the room, stopping when he’s standing right in front of you, just gazing down. He has no idea what’s to come— for once, there are no patterns, no statistics he can reference.

So, he reaches for you, fingers tugging at the edges of your jacket. “Arms. Up,” he instructs and god, it’s a stupid order, but you follow it without any protest. He folds it over the couch, abandoned. Putting it back on alludes to leaving, and he’s hopeless enough to never want you to leave.

His hands then gravitate back to you and he starts to tug aimlessly at the material of your shirt. It’s been raining, and the fabric is soaked. “Hm,” he hums, “Off. Take it off.”

You laugh at that. Straight to the point. You don’t follow his orders, because one was certainly enough, and you’ve never been the type to obey blindly. Instead, you grip his waist, drive him back towards the nearest surface. An end table, some books go clattering, light damage, they’ll survive. His response is a gasp, a hitch of the breath.

“I was promised the good side of the bed, breakfast, pancakes. But sex? Hm, did you invite me over just to get in my pants? I’m wounded, Reid.” you mutter, pressing a series of soft kisses along the curvature of his jaw.

“No! No,” he retorts, breathless, “I was going to get you some comfortable clothes to change into. Damp clothes breed bacteria. You made this dirty,” Adding, “And not in the way I was concerned about.” under his breath.

You roll your eyes, “Oh, here we go—“ sure, you have the experience he lacks, but you’ve been on your best behavior. Dirty? That’s an insult to the exhausting self-restraint you’ve upheld recently.

“Yes— i’m the dirty one here, clearly.” you scoff, “Just casually corrupting you,” You tug him away from the end-table because you don’t want him bruised in any way, shape or form (it’s actually distressing; when you’re working, you seem hellbent on making sure no one even thinks about laying a hand on him. Unsubs be damned.)

Ego-centric, completely independent, individualistic until he came along.

You push him back against the couch, watching as he stumbles, as he falls. For a minute he just lies there, looking up at you with hazy eyes— pupils dilated and lips parted on a half-pained gasp.

And it’s a sight to see, the brilliant prodigy, the young genius, his normally-composed features now twisted into something stricken. His hands tighten around the material of the couch and he lets out a sound that’s a cross between a whine and a groan.

“Oh—“ that’s just a clear-cut moan, “You can definitely definitely keep corrupting me, in fact I endorse it. Completely.”

“3 PHDS, 2 B.A’s and you’re currently asking me to corrupt you? I don’t know, Doctor Reid, that’s certainly very forward,” you say, moving to sit on his lap, aware that you really should entertain this spot more often, even if you’re at severe risk of deflating.

Deflating. God. When did it come to this?

He laughs, “You’re the only person in this entire world that makes me act without a single coherent thought,” IQ abolished. “So yeah,” he murmurs, fingers tracing mindless patterns across the exposed strip of skin above your waistline. “Defini-definitively corrupt me.”

It’s taken so much to get to this point. So much to unpack, to understand, from Spencer’s perspective. There’s a lifetime of bullying that he has to dismantle, and sometimes he still anticipates the punchline when you kiss him— the biting laughs, not entirely dissimilar to school, when someone would belittle him, fake being his friend just for entertainment value.

So, when you stumble into the bedroom, when you remove his shirt, he knows this is improvement. He’s fighting this internal battle, unsure on how he should act: coy or defiant. Both, really. He wants to cover himself up, to pretend like you don’t disarm him, to fight and fight until you make him bleed. Anything, he’ll take anything from you.

“You are so so pretty,” you mutter when he’s sprawled out across the bed. You’ve never been someone to resort to praise; sex had always been cold and clinical, something to relieve stress, to undermine the burden of work, and the endless weight of sanguinary. But now? If he is the eye of the storm, then you’ll happily commit to the chaos of this.

“Careful, you’ll make me inherit a disorder here.” he mutters. Narcism— he’s the least likely to ever develop such symptoms. “Or cry. I could cry, it’s a potential. Maybe break-down?”

“Or,” he adds, his hands tracing up towards your shoulder blades. “All of the above. The trifecta of issues. It’s very likely.”

He rolls over on top, you’re down to just your lingerie now, pretty lace contrasting against your skin. Removing your clothes had been a whole ordeal, he’s fairly certain he almost died; you’re the epitome of beautiful, and he’s not sure how he ended up with everything when he was so resolute, silently accepting, he would always obtain nothing.

“I want to kiss you, but I don’t know, I feel like my body has lost the ability to function at the moment.” he breathes out.

“You should definitely kiss me,” you confirm, posing it as a choice, one that he has any say over— when in reality, youre already tugging him closer. Lips meeting lips. It’s not sane how the world fades into a nebulous haze the moment your mouths connect; time remains constant, logistically, nothing has changed. But it’s just so much that for a moment you doubt the concept of existence, doubt everything but him.

Genius falling for genius. Only you could laugh when he traces molecules into your skin. Spelling out words with elements: Livermorium, Uranium. LV U, it might not be an exact replica of the three worded phrase, but it certainly gets the point across.

“Spence—“ you bite into his lip, tugging the soft tissue between your teeth.

He groans, whimpers, pulls you closer, eliminating every infinitesimal distance between, slotting his hips against yours. He draws away from your mouth, lips leaving a trail of kisses down your neck as he reaches for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours and pinning it against the bed. His free one is now wandering, slipping beneath your panties to touch.

“Do you know how much I studied about human anatomy after you first kissed me?”

“Weeks.” he answers when you respond with a muffled groan. Your hands are on his back now, tracing the journey of his spine. He’s in over his head, but there’s so much want, so much he wants to do but never thought he would be capable of. And oh, when he begins to draw circles against your clit, slow experimental halos, those soft touches of yours evolve into grasping, gripping. By the time he’s got a finger slotted inside, he’s fairly certain he’s being scratched. Nail indents and faint white lines, souvenirs.

“I know about every erogenous zone the human body possesses, every single one.” He says, because whilst he might lack in physical experience, he has enough intellect to memorize placement, biology. Plus, he’s a fast learner. His finger bends, and both of you moan.

“Spence— fuck, feels good.” you gasp, tangled hands clutching tighter, tighter again until your knuckles are white and you’re trembling.

The human body is something of a fascination to him; the way it reacts, how each nerve and ligament can respond to even the most tentative of touches. But you aren’t every human, you are you, and he has an insatiable desire to discover and catalog every single response your body gives.

He adds another finger, slowly, eyes fixed on your face, gauging the reaction. When he curls both digits, a sharp exhale is your response. “I’m convinced I’ve discovered new anatomy facts in the last few months, just because of you.”

Maybe it’s not fair that he’s so good. First times are supposed to be fumbling and awkward, a mess of hormones and inexperience. To say you haven’t been touched like this before is a severe understatement. The meaningless sex, the onslaught of bodies doesn’t measure up to him, the way he’s so focused on how you respond, on what your body enjoys— it would be endearing (and it is!), but you're currently too preoccupied to voice such a notion.

“Doing so good, holy shit—“ you mutter, blissed out beyond comprehension. You're making art on his back, only vaguely aware of the pain. Though when you realize you’ve scarred his skin, you're drawing away, moving to tangle your hand in his hair instead. But Spencer doesn’t even care, doesn’t even register the inflictions; he likes the physical marks you leave behind, a tangible remnant of all you do to him.

And sure, he’d laugh, usually, at your responses. But it’s hard to laugh, when his own ability to form any coherent sound has been completely destroyed. He’s a mess, his breathing shaky, and his brain is a constant buzz of fragmented musings consisting of you, you, you.

He draws his fingers out, earning a discernible groan, maybe a fuck you (which he does intend to do). But right now, he’s already slotting his face between your thighs, removing those soaked, ruined, panties of yours. He doesn’t have a single thing to compare it to. But he already knows this is his favorite place to be, and he’s fairly certain he’ll be spending most nights between your thighs, learning and memorizing every reaction and noise, each movement, and the ways to repeat them.

He runs his tongue along your clit, savoring just how wet you are, a mess that he can bury his face into. You’re looking down at him with something akin to shock now, and he can only laugh, blow air against your clit, then drag his tongue back over the sensitive bud, drawing it into his mouth to suck.

His movements are tentative at first, unpractised, but soon gaining confidence. He doesnt need to do this, you're aware— you could take him now. And yet, hes here, between your thighs for no reason other than want. Your reaction is visceral, because it’s always been about efficiency in the past, quick touches to get you there before the other person can derive their own pleasure from the act.

He’s not like that. God, hes not like that at all.

“Oh,” is all you can say, gripping his hair down to the root, instructing each movement until he gains incentive, finding repeat patterns that your body reacts to. Then, you can only arch and moan, noises filtered out into the air. He’s back to opening you up now, two deft fingers pressed inside, working diligently to tear you apart.

“Oh? That’s all you have to say to me? Oh?” he retorts.

“Shut up,” you huff, “Put that mouth of yours to work.”

“Mhm— I plan to. God, you’re so perfect.” he mutters, voice distorted, muffled. “That’s it—“ he fights the urge to explain exactly what’s occurring in your body every time his fingers abuse that spot. Instead, he keeps his mouth busy.

He’s certain he’s memorized most areas of your body from years of pining, and that’s what brings him an unrepentant sense of satisfaction. Because he was memorizing your body, you, long before he even got the chance to touch or taste you.

“Wanna stay here,” he says, and he’s being petulant now, because there’s something so good about being reduced to movements. To follow the pattern, to take care of your body, mindless to anything else but you. Pussy-drunk, to put it less eloquently.

“Shit,” you buck up against his mouth, watching as he buries his face entirely into you, as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, nose bumping bumping your clit, consuming his senses entirely.

“Use my face, yeah. ‘M all yours anyway.”

“Fuck, fuck fuck— Spence. Gonna cum—“

When you fall apart, inevitable, he doesn’t stop— not until you’re boneless and spent beneath him. Back arching, stars burning through closed eyes. Pretty constellations that have you blissed out beyond belief. The pleasure is white-hot, feverish in intensity.

And then he’s moving, shifting his body back over you. He’s all soft touches and languid kisses against your mouth, not bothering to break contact as he settles himself fully over you, the weight of his hips pressing into yours. He’s hard, dick pushing up against his boxers, his sexual libido had always been low until you came into his life. Now, his wants seem to fight for release constantly.

“My turn, I believe.” he grins, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Not that you have to, of course. It’s not an obligation, uh— more so a beg?”

“Of course it’s an obligation,” he goes to protest, to say you don’t owe him anything, so you sigh. “A thankyou, maybe?”

Fumbling hands, still shaky from pleasure, undo buttons. Unclasping his belt, removing loose fabric until he's bare before you. There’s something nervous to his gaze, something unspoken, lingering in the air. “Hey, hey. I’ve got you, yeah? You’re okay,” you promise, before your eyes shamelessly look down. He’s straining, pre-cum lingering at his tip, dick pressed up against his stomach now. “Fuck, okay— yeah. Good. Great even.” first time you've ever stumbled over a sentence in your life.

There’s so much to be concerned about. The fact he’s naked, that you could destroy everything with a few serrated words, years and years of rebuilding, reconstructing. But you don’t— and he can’t help but laugh nervously. “Glad to be up to your standards. I’d uh, hate to disappoint.”

“Always the over-achiever,” you respond, shifting away from him— there’s amusement to your expression when he groans, pitifully, when he rolls onto his back, draping an arm over his face.

Predictable. Condoms in his bedside table. At least he's prepared. You open the wrapper with your teeth, discarding it somewhere amongst the tangle of limbs and sheets, too hellbent on finding him again.

Oh, in this position, you have full, unrestricted view of his body. Endless planes of skin, begging to be marked, sentenced indefinitely to your touch. By the time you straddle his hips, hes a flushed mess beneath you. “I— um, you look really really pretty right now.” he stumbles, idiot.

His dilated eyes take you in. Every contour and curve, the way your hair hangs over your face, eyes up eyes up eyes up. He fails when you run your hand across his dick, thumb brushing against the tip. By the time you’ve slipped the condom over him, hes gone. Bucking and moaning, and so so much better than his hand could ever be.

He wants to be inside of you, but it’s hard to think right now, let alone vocalize the words. I want, he thinks, I want everything, with you.

Your name is on his tongue, muttered and repeated, a reverent prayer of sorts. He needs to gain back his control here, to return to equal footing.

“Yeah—“ he breathes out, “So much of an overachiever, considering I had you making all of those noises—“ his words falter, die out, when you sink down. When you take him. Wrapped around, tight. Warm heat that sets alight every nerve in his overstimulated body. He has half the mind to apologize for his comment because you’re about to ruin him, he knows.

“I thought you wanted me to corrupt you, hm?” you retort. The pace is slow, mostly for his own sanity. Though, the feel of him, the way he slots into you, warm skin pressed against warm skin is intoxicating, and it’s a battle to keep your composure. To not just fall apart under the weight of him.

“What’s that, pretty boy? Struggling? Because you were so egotistical a few seconds ago? Where’s all that ego gone? Straight between your legs, I think.”

A whimper. It’s a whimper, a pained thing ripped straight from his throat. He’s making indiscernible noises now, messy sounds pooling from his swollen lips. The praise, the strained undertones of degradation? It’s too much. But god does he love you for it, because that’s you through and through. Sharp, and brittle to everyone but him, he wants to look, he does, albeit he has to turn his head to the side, bury half of his face in a pillow because he’s gone. At this point, he can only take it.

“I— um, mhm. Yeah,” he slurs. He’s almost incoherent at this point; he’s been reduced to nothing, just a mass of skin, bone, and flesh at your disposal, to own and use and he can’t find it in himself to feel humiliated about it, not when it’s you.

“Can’t— um, I was wrong, you’re— oh god,” the sounds of your body hitting his, back arching as your pace picks up. “Oh, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry —baby, can’t, can’t take it. That’s…”

It’s a lot for his first time, that’s for certain.

“Yes, you you can. I know you can, Spence.” you mutter, interlocking your fingers, letting them hang near your hips. “You feel so good— so so fucking good. Look at you, so brain dead for me. Taking it all so well, love.”

Love?— oh he wants to be buried with that one. He’s a mindless disaster, impenetrably devoted to you alone.

He doesn’t even know how he’s saying words at this point, it’s as if his brain-to-mouth connection has been severed by your very presence itself. It’s not possible to form a coherent thought when you’re riding him like this, taking him so deep that he’s seeing stars. There’s tears pooling in his eyes, he looks pretty when he cries. Especially when it’s derived from pleasure, when he can let go of the burdens, everything he’s endured, when it’s just sensation. Nothing more, no more thoughts.

There’s safety here, an element of home, home home bliss, that has him keening. He wants to stay buried here forever, where nothing can ever hurt him again. When it’s just you, and your pretty words, and your exploitative power to destroy him. You never do, anyway. Even when you could, you restrain.

“Can’t, ’m gonna…, Please, please, don’t stop.” he whines, “Pleasepleaseplease— oh, can’t— I can’t.”

He grips you tight, rolls you over, mostly so he can feel you closer. The sight of you riding him was excruciating, but this is worse because now there’s no gap separating you. Now, he can bury his face into the crook of your neck, burn himself in the warmth of your touch.

“Spence..” you mutter.

“I know. I know—“ hes ruined, sloppy thrusts, whimpers catching against the stifling air. “Feels s’good.”

He doesn’t know what to do, how to breathe, so he just runs his thumb over your clit, watching your prominent reaction, watching as you gasp, moan— oh, and then you’re clenching around him, tightening the pleasure, and yesyesyes.

You’re too gone, moving still, and he can only cant his hips forwards, buck and squirm until he’s sobbing under the weight of your ministrations, releasing so hard that he can barely remember his name, no cognitive function, in the haze of his orgasm.

“There’s my boy— so pretty for me.” he can vaguely hear you saying, and if you’re talking him through it, he can only hear snippets of praise now anyway.

“Mhm— mhm. Yours, yeah.” he mumbles, body sinking against the sheets, a few little whimpers escaping his lips as you milk the rest of his pleasure from him.

Tangled limbs and sweat-stained skin. “You okay?” you ask in the aftermath.

“So okay,” he agrees, shifting closer, back pressed against your torso— sue him for being little spoon.

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The next morning, you wake to an absence of Spencer. It’s unsettling, to say the least. So, you're quick to fumble over the buttons of one of his shirts, fabric creased, matching the tousled nature of your hair, disheveled, remnants of the ruination of last night.

For a moment, you consider that he might’ve left — but there he is, in the kitchen, attempting to make breakfast.

“Hey,” you mutter, leaning against the counter to watch.

Scratches adorn his back, indent marks from your nails, crescent reminders, stain his waist, and he’s content to wear them. If anything, he can’t wait to add to the budding collection.

Pancakes. The good side of the bed. Coffee. All of his promises from last night are being thoroughly met, even if he’s burning the food, and shit, he didn’t realize the coffee would be finished so soon. For all his calculations, he’s fairly off-center today.

And then, you come padding across his kitchen, embellished in only his shirt, unbuttoned near the top to expose your collarbone, and he’s fairly certain the last remainders of his IQ disappear.

“Hi! Hi,” he says, wide-eyed, “Um, making.. breakfast. You look, wow yeah.”

Breakfast lays forgotten.

[ozzgin]

okay, hear me out: mean girl!reader x nerdy/sub!yandere

nerd!yan who gets bullied by you all the time, with harsh name calling and forcing him to do your homework.

nerd!yan who grows intrigued with you. you’re so confident, so pretty, so cool! how can he not like you?

nerd!yan who’s slowly growing more obsessed. his breath hitches whenever you loom over him with that annoyingly hot smirk of yours, calling him such mean, degrading names

nerd!yan who gets jealous whenever he sees you targeting someone else. you can’t bully them!! you should pay attention to him and only him. oh well, he’ll just have to eliminate the competition, so you can go back to “tormenting” him again.

nerd!yan who’s really such a pervert! he followed you home and was pleasuring himself to your scent that lingered on your clothing… such dirty behaviour!

mean girl!reader who returns home to find one of her classmates in her bedroom, and how can she not smile at the sight? he’s so pretty, such a cute little plaything…

mean girl!reader who had always been aware of nerd!yan’s obsessive tendencies, and played along. but now that he’s been caught red handed…

mean girl!reader who degrades poor nerd!yan for being such a disgusting pervert, but submits to nerd!yan’s fantasies anyway. she plays with him, leaving harsh love bites and scratches over his soft skin, reducing him to a moaning, whiney mess.

nerd!yan who’s basically your pet now, obediently following you throughout school, happily accepting all your orders, no matter how demeaning or gross they are.

people who even dare look your way with romantic interest? they get disposed of in…well, let’s just say, messy. oh, but not that nerd!yan will ever let you see it happen! your precious, beautiful eyes should be shielded from such violent acts. but if you ever ask… tilt your head playfully with a soft smile and ask him to let you watch, he might.

tldr; mean girl and a nerdy yandere that are both equally toxic for each other

have an awesome day!! I would really like to see you write a concept like this <3

-Ash

A/N: I'm including someone else's request as I think they mesh well together: "a mean bully!reader with a yandere!loser, where reader basically just uses him like a pet and has him do whatever she wants" I'll be doing my best, but do keep in mind this is written by a loser nerd so I can't guarantee accuracy. I also don't want to be too mean, even if it's hypothetical, y'know? 😭

Nerd! Loser! Yandere x Mean Girl! Bully! Reader

They say being in the right relationship motivates you to strive for the best version of yourself. Sometimes, the opposite is true. What happens when your soulmate brings out your most depraved self?

Content: female reader, mildly NSFW, obsessive behavior, violence, bullying, loser is meant in a loving way, yandere consents to everything

You really aren't that bad of a person. Or at least you weren't before you met the odd man you now call your boyfriend. How did it all begin? For the sake of full disclosure, alright, you have always been somewhat on the mean side. A little too sarcastic, a little too blunt, perhaps a little too harsh. You don't like soft people and have little patience for their stumbling attempts. But, you can hold your tongue as long as it doesn't involve you.

The meeting, at least from your point of view, was entirely accidental. Despite just starting your university year, your charisma had quickly gained you enough friends and acquaintances to have a stable sample of potential group partners. Except for one class. One single missing person, and you were asked to include a name you didn't recognize. Some young man who almost never showed up to class.

Oh, but he did. He was there for every lecture, for every seminar. His, and yours. His first encounter with you was not what most would call romantic. On day one he'd gotten lost. The crowded halls, the new environment, the noise, the smell, everything overwhelmed him, and he found himself wandering in a panic, until at last he bumped into you. The impact sent him straight onto the ground, books pathetically spilling from his trembling arms. You, on the other hand, remained standing as if nothing happened. "Pull yourself together, dumbass", you hissed through your teeth, looking into his eyes for one brief moment before moving on to your friends: "You have to give it to them straight, otherwise they'll think we're still in high school and someone will hold their hand all the time. It's embarrassing! Grown adults!"

He can't remember anything else from that day. Only your voice, your expression, your stance. Somehow, for whatever reason, that "dumbass" went straight to his heart. To think you'd look after him, a complete stranger. You were right, he needed to recollect himself and figure it out. Something even his own mother omitted to mention.

How he wished he could be like you. The way professors relied on you for discussions, the way your friends flocked for advice. But see, he knew you were faking most of it. That overly sweet smile and exaggerated politeness, all of it was a mask you'd learned to wear at any time. It only came off when dealing with people like him. There was a certain pride in that fact: he'd seen the real you. Not your "friends".

The more he thought about it, the more plagued by need he became. The need to hear you speak to him again, in that raw, unfiltered voice, with that disgusted glare piercing through his entire being. Thus, he did his best - as per your advice - to find another opportunity. The group work. One glance at him was enough for you to remember: "Ah, fuck, you're that dumbass from first day", you whined in frustration. Instant arousal.

And so, your unusual partnership began to develop. Or rather, your game of tormentor versus tormented. (Un)Paid actors and nothing more. It didn't take you long to notice his strange reaction to your verbal aggressions, almost as if the man relished in your ruthlessness. He seemed to know exactly what buttons to press in order to anger you. In return, you decided to see how far you could go until he'd finally cave in. From insults, to flicking him in the forehead, shoving him against the wall, ordering him around like a collared dog. You had your suspicions, but it all culminated when you went over to his little dorm room for a final project review. You'd gotten so upset - what did he even do? - that you pushed him hard into the ground and straddled him, holding onto the collar of his jacket and shouting profanities. A horrified grimace struck his face, and you froze. Have you gone too far? Was he finally going to ask that you stop, and put this strange charade behind? "P-please give me a moment, I..." he panted, frantically trying to move you aside. "I need to take care of myself. I'm so sorry." You hesitantly stood up and noticed the obvious erection in his pants.

You have a strange effect on him. He is not incapable; he knows it very well. And yet, the temptation is too great: to pretend, to exaggerate, to fail, anything to have you take the lead and lovingly scold him in the process. "What do you mean you're too anxious to present your part? Christ, you're useless. Utterly, completely useless." He can't wait to pleasure himself later to the memory of your words. Truly addicting. He doesn't mind being a doormat if it's your feet keeping him down. You bring out his most pathetic, perverted, deplorable self.

The same can be said about you. You've never been this mean to anyone. You hadn't even intended to reach this point, yet something keeps riling you up. Maybe it's his pleading pout whenever he's being reprimanded. The hooded, lustful eyes gazing up at you submissively and waiting for the next burning whip of your tongue. He brings out the worst in you and he loves every second of it.

You unlock the door and march into the bedroom (you've since moved in together). Without a warning, you grip his chin tightly and give the man a firm tug, forcing him to pay attention. "You did something, didn't you? I was supposed to meet with a classmate for coffee and he vanished without a trace. Won't answer my texts or calls." He shakes his head in denial at first, wide innocent eyes glistening in fear. Ah, he can't help it. His lips curl in a crooked grin. He's been caught. You shove two fingers in his mouth, and without delay he twirls his tongue around them hungrily. "What a psychotic bitch you are. You want to be the only one, huh? Is that what it is about?" Between the slurps and the whimpers, you can discern a hurried nod.

[cutiekaijumuseum]

A little trivia for those that just got introduced to Ultraman thanks to Ultraman Rising

You know that part where baby kaiju Emi is shown a kids cartoon with an earworm of a song?

That cartoon is real!! It's called Kaiju Step Wandabada and it stars cute kid versions of different monsters from different Ultraman series (mostly the original from 1966 wich Rising is also based on). The opening shown in the movie is in stop-motion while the cartoon itself is in 2D.

The Ultraman heroes don't appear in person, but bizarrely enough they seem to exist as fictional superheroes in-universe, with the kaiju kids having toys and dolls of them. It's no surprise Emi liked it so much! She would be right at home in this show!

The episodes are 5 minutes long, there are two seasons of 26 episodes each for a total of 52. The official Tsurubaya channel has the first episodes of both seasons uploaded...

...but the rest were sadly only up for a limited time cuz gotta sell the dvds. What is officially available online right now is a series of educational shorts.

Some years ago Marvel Comics got the rights to make Ultraman comics and made a mini-series called "The Rise of Ultraman" (no relation), and these Kaiju Step designs got to appear as part of in-universe instructional videos about dealing with monsters and aliens:

So let's have a quick rundow on the little monsters and where each comes from:

Pigmon or Pig-chan is the main protagonist and new kid in town (forest). This coral-looking guy is one of the most iconic and recurring ultra monsters and the go-to kid-friendly one, as he stood out among the original set of kaiju for being friendly and heroic (as well as human-sized). He has the bad habit of dying in many of his apperences but fortunately that's not the case here.

Kanegon or Kane-chan is the second member of the protagonist trio, and the most energic and simple-minded. A coin purse monster that eats money, and usually a human kid under a curse. He actually pre-dates Ultraman, appearing in the black-and-white anthology series Ultra Q wich had monsters but not superheroes. Fortunately this one doesn't need to eat money and was born a kaiju.

Alien Dada or Dada-chan is the reliable but temperamental inventor of the trio, he dreams of building a rocket ship. One of the most iconic villains from the original 1966 Ultraman (and that's saying a lot), it's a weird alien with weird powers looking for human subjects for his weird experiments, like testing his shrinking ray. He really earns the name of a weird art movement.

Gomora or Gomo-chan is probably the most iconic ultra kaiju of all. Remember how in Ultraman Rising there is this whole sequence where the dad omniously talks about fighting him? There is a good reason for that. Gomora had the only two-parter in the original 1966 series, and was able to actually defeat Ultraman in their first figh. He's essentially Godzilla if he lived underground rather than underwater (He's even been a good guy and had a robot counterpart). Here, however, Gomora is a chill guy who's passionate about agriculture. (btw, you can also spot Gomora in Rising on a screen around an hour and eight minutes into the movie).

Red King or just Red is another iconic ultra dino, that looks like corn. In the show he's brute but well-meaning, and has a friendly sport rivalry with Kemur-chan. But in the Ultraman series he's a sadistic and murderous bully who beats up weaker monsters but gets his butt kicked rather easily by Ultraman (although more recent incarnations have have been more positive, both in his fighting ability and sometimes even becoming a loving father). (and yes, you are right, he's not red).

Jamira or Jami-chan is a passionate archeologist and fossil collector in the show, whereas in the original Ultraman he was a human astronaut that got infected by a virus. He hasn't appeared much beyond his debut... but doesn't need to, as his episode was very memorable in how sad and tragic it was. I can't imagine the target audience's whiplash seeing this cute creature one moment collecting fossils and the next having a horrible sad death. I guess one could say the same for most of the characters, but this one takes the cake.

Miclas or Mic-chan is the youngest character, a baby, and loves bugs. He was one of the "capsule monsters" from the second ultra series, Ultra Seven. Sometimes the titular ultra wouldn't be able to fight himself so he would summon up to three very loyal monsters from little capsules to do the fighting instead (or at least buy some time, they weren't very strong). One was a triceratops, another was a robot bird, but the most iconic had to be Miclas because really, what even is he? Some kind of bull toad hybrid? (By the way, fun fact, the capsule monsters were one of the inspirations for Pokemon).

King Joe (yes, that's his name) or Joe-chan is a robot controlled by alien invaders and is to Ultra Seven what Gomora is to the original Ultraman: he's the subject of a two-parter and was able to beat the hero to a pulp at first, made harder to fight by his ability to divide into three flying parts. Fortunately this Joe is very shy and very friendly.

Eleking or Ele-chan from Ultra Seven is another of the "mascot" ultra kaiju. If two ultra kaiju have to appear in anything, chances are they will be Gomora and Eleking. In fact, in Ultraman Rising you can see Eleking in a monitor right next to Gomora (around an hour and eight minutes in). It's a dinosaur-like eel monster with (of course) electric powers, and the enforcer of an all-female bug-like alien species set to conquer the earth, that are nonetheless very affectionate towards their pet-weapon dino-eel. The fact that Eleking's masters are always women may explain why the Kaiju Step one is a very femenine and elegant girl despite having King in the name, though no less dangerously electric.

Alien Guts or Guts-chan here is a very little alien bird child who can multiply into three separate individuals to cause all the destruction in their sincere attempts to help out. The original duo from Ultra Seven meanwhile are ruthless alien invaders that are infamous for freaking crucifying the aforementioned hero, leading to decades of japanese media having christian imagery for the sake of looking cool, most notably Neon Genesis Evangelion, because these birds did it first and it looked so cool.

Alien Kemur or Kemu-chan is a very agile alien that comes from the distant future of 2020 to consume humans and extend his lifespan. Here he's a friendly but competitive ninja from the present, and has a rivalry with Red King being the speed to his strenght. Like Kanegon, he pre-dates Ultraman, being from Ultra Q.

Motokureron or Kureron-chan originates from the whimsical, fairy-tale like Ultraman Taro. A kid found him as a baby and fed him until he grew to giant size, but when the kid couldn't feed him anymore he turned destructive; fortunately he was easy to pacify with food, including the kind that made him shrink. He retains his glutonny and clumsiness in Kaiju Step, often doing the bad thing (tm) so the others can teach the kids in the audience why you shouldn't do the bad thing (tm).

Nova or No-chan originates from the surprisingly dark Ultraman Leo. This creepy and bizarre ghost-like alien created a red mist that made people go crazy, and manipulated a kid with illusions of his deceased family, and under his cloth there are lots of tentacles and a scythe. So of course, in Kaiju Step she's a happy and energic little girl that loves to sing.

Mugera or Muge-chan is by far the most obscure kaiju of the cast. She's from the 2001 series Ultraman Cosmos, the one where the titular hero protects monsters instead of fighting them. Mugera is an ET-like cryptid that lives in an amusement park that only kids can see, with the ability to fix toys and heal wounds with her magic. After the amusement park closes down she phones home and the protagonists have to protect her from the goverment wich is a little too eager to shoot down the UFO that came to pick her up. In Kaiju Step she likes reading and plants.

And that was your daily dose of kaiju sugar, that may be overdose because you probably already met Emi. Cheers!

[knyontop]

bowers gang hcs?

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PLEASE SEND MORE BOWERS GANG REQUESTS GUYSIGHHSIBJHSIHGJ

Ft: Henry bowers, Patrick hocksetter, Victor criss, Belch huggins.

Tw: dark stuff remember its the bowers gang!!!

Henry:

・Henry is the most aggressive and just mean😭

・you give him one wrong look and your already a target for him.

・depending on how much he hates you is how far he will go.

・He deff has some doggys!!!!

・hes a dog person confirmed ^_^

・he has two dogs, both are German shepherds (cant think of any names so just make them up..)

・hes had sex with like five girls, maybe even more. But they dont mean anything to him he just needs a good fuck every once in a while.

・he mostly goes for nasty bitches (thats all there is in darry) but if hes lucky there will be one sweet, innocent girl he can corrupt. (He has a thing for the innocent ones)

・Henrys favorite color is red im confirming it :3

・he stays out late so he doesn’t have to go home to his shit dad, he hangs with his friends but he also likes his alone time.

・when he was younger i just know he loved trucks😭

・a truck is definitely his dream car💪🏻💪🏻

・Henry doesn’t like loud children and he doesn’t like crowds because its so annoying trying to get through and its loud as hell.

・he is not scared to get into a little kids face and tell them to shut up and if they really push it he might slap em’ on the head.

・i feel like when he was younger he definitely wanted a sibling he wanted a younger sibling to hang out with and make into like a mini him just someone he could protect and hang with. (He still kinda does)

・anger issues, daddy issues, asshole issues, what do you expect?

・henry bowers getting therapy when??

・bro looks at himself in the mirror and just admires himself bc he knows hes hot😭

・AS HE SHOULDDDD

・i would like to say hes pretty good at skateboarding like i just have an image of him when he was younger with his little crew and there just skating☹️☹️

・but he thinks he doesn’t have time for it anymore, only on rare occasions he does it. (Vic still skates often tho)

・but yeah henry bowers is pretty fire🔥🔥

Patrick:

・the most sadistic and cruel like we all know that.

・bro is just born this way no sad backstory nothing😭

・I imagine that its just him and his mom, and his mom is a sweet angel while hes just the devil.

・his dad left after he killed his little brother, and Patricks okay with that. Never like his old man anyways.

・he has some type of caring for his mom I mean like deep deep inside somewhere you will find a little care.

・he does not care about your race or sexuality at all like the only thing he will care about is if your a girl because he believes that men are better than woman.

・little patrick was like, “MOM GET BACK IN THE KITCHEN!”

・complete menace smh.

・but yeah he doesn’t care he just calls you slurs and stuff because he loves humiliating people😭 the rush he feels it gives him a feeling of what its like to even feel something.

・he doesn’t have a favorite color, he thinks thats stupid and childish. Like who gives a fuck? (I DO☹️)

・no filter. Speaks his mind.

・”Fucking whore.”

・evilest laugh EVER.

・”if i laugh during a fight run” ah💀

・deep deep down he has a soft spot for his little gang and his mom, deep, deep, deeeeeep down.

・he wants to feel things he just doesn’t, so, feeling that rush of excitement or sexual energy or desire helps him feel emotions and he doesn’t care if its bad at least hes feeling it!

Victor:

・hes the smartest like he got those straight A’s in elementary🙏🏻🙏🏻

・i just know hes a cat person like he holds in a coo when hes those little furballs☹️

・has two siblings >3< a little brother and a little sister!!!

・and hes a pretty decent big bro to.

・took them to the park, helps his little sister tie her shoes, but just bc there his little siblings doesn’t mean hes not afraid to get rough with them. Hes in the bowers gang for a reason.

・hes like the stereotypical bully, pinning people down shoving them a little bit maybe a little beat dowm mocking and teasing his victims.

・never to far ig…

・Victor’s favorite color is green, yeah pretty obvious ik ik☹️☹️

・he cuts his own hair!!! Hes pretty smart when hes not being a asshole.

・i feel like if he wasn’t a bully he would have so much potential.

・buttt anywho he has old note books that he used to journal in when he was younger he thinks its stupid now that hes older. (I promise its not)

・he likes making Henry proud because i mean hes his leader why wouldn’t he want to please him?

・he grew up in a srict household, when he was 8 he realized rules are stupid.

・they are all little shits omds.

・he used to want to be a cop but look where he is nowwww..

・woops!

・funfact: hes pretty good with kids sense he has little siblings, he just doesn’t have a lot of patience.

Belch:

・most empathetic, his actor even said he was more human than the others he was not as evil as the others.

・i feel like hes a 100% mamas boy he hates his dad, his parents split up so he takes care of his mom behind the scenes.

・he has one little sister which she is the exact opposite of him like literally shes just a sweet little bundle of joy with her taller and bigger intimidating older brother next to her with his arms crossed.

・might be a better older brother than vic ngl😪

・now im not saying hes gentle or nice hes still an asshole hes not a good person im just saying hes nicer than the others.

・he intimates kids, shoves them around, never anything as bad as henry gets with his strength.

・Belch likes to make people intimidated, he feels strong. He feels good.

・belch is a dog person but he thinks cats are okay, but definitely a dog person.

・hes got a little pug <\3

・which he keeps his pug ten yards away from patrick because that pug is his baby.

・to any of patricks fat jokes hes like “Im big boned asshole!”

・close enough welcome back eric cartman.

・I feel like his favorite color would be blue or orange.

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I had fun making this :33 PLEASE SEND MORE REQUESTS FOR THE BOWERS GANG!!

[heartsaturn]

throwing snowballs at each other - jh86

jack hughes x fem!reader | ficmas day 3

summary: you and jack have a snowball fight !!

warnings: jack gets bullied <3

a/n: this one isn’t one of my favs cus i wrote it in like ten mins but it’s okay 😭

———————————————————————-

you could never get used to the cold. no matter how many snowy days you had been through, the cold had never been your thing. however, it was very different for your boyfriend. jack grew up constantly ice skating and in hockey arenas. he has been used to the cold for a long time now. so when you suggested going out in the snow as a little romantic activity, he agreed. you may have forgotten about your little icy dilemma though.

“jack, it’s freezing out!” you exclaim the second you step outside. you’re positive that you look silly as well. you are all bundled up with all the protection that you need from abuse of the whipping wind. meanwhile, jack is simply wearing a hoodie with a jacket and a beanie.

“babe, what did you expect? it’s below twenty degrees out here,” jack says, his voice filled with amusement at your clear suffering.

you huff and walk a little further outside where jack has already set up base, starting to form snowballs in his hands. your realization of what he is doing comes too slowly because before you know it, there is a freezing wet substance coming straight at your stomach. your efforts at dodging the snowball are useless, given the fact that jack is an athlete. so you just accept your fate. the scene isn’t actually all that dramatic. jack clearly threw the snowball with little of his force because he didn’t actually want to hurt you. his small snickers and giggles of amusement set you off though, and soon you are also forming your own frosty weapon.

a war breaks out and suddenly you are both laughing at chucking snowballs at each other left and right. each person is trying to dodge the snowball from the other by running around frantically, which your sure is an entertaining sight to anyone who drives by your house.

“i’m gonna crush you, jacky!” you squeal as you run around, almost breathless at this point.

“i’d like to see you try,” he says in reply, making more snowballs.

somehow, the battle between the two of you gets so intense that jack has a mini fortress built and you have a pile of snowballs ready to fire at jack. you both decided to do a pretend dual as a tiebreaker to see who wins the snowball war. you count down to three and in an instant, snowballs are being thrown frantically by each person. 

after a while of trying to hit his target, jack almost doesn’t see snowball that comes barreling at him. he almost doesn’t see it, but he does. he ends up seeing it because it comes shooting directly at his face.

jack lets out a small, “oomph,” and wipes the cold snow off of his face. you can’t help but start laughing at the fact that you had not only beat jack, but also at the fact that you beat him by hitting him in the face.

“are you okay?” you manage to ask in between small laughs.

“oh yeah, no i’m doing great, you just keep on laughing,” jack says sarcastically, still making sure that there is now snow left on his face.

“i’m sorry, baby. i didn’t mean to hit you in the face,” you say. your laughs come to a stop as you check to make sure that jack wasn’t genuinely hurt by being hit in the face with a snowball.

“i’m fine, don’t worry,” jack says, laughing himself.

“although, you should be glad that it wasn’t you that got hit in the face because it would have hurt way more and you are way more sensitive to the cold,” jack teases.

“you know, i can’t even deny that,” you say. you and jack are now both laughing together. you stand in front of him, his hands resting on your hips. he looks so pretty in the snow. his blue eyes pop within the white background and his nose is a light shade of pink.

“you’re so pretty,” jack says with a small smile on his face.

“i was just thinking the same thing,” you say. you lean up and give jack a small peck on the lips. his lips warm up your own for the small moment that they are together.’

“i love you,” jack says gently as he pulls away.

“i love you too. and i’m sorry for hitting you in the face with a snowball,”

———————————————————————-

word count: 741

[l0velysmut]

Can you please write Neteyam with readers as Enemies to Lovers? with smut and he says he's loved readers for a long time.Please I really love your writing.

neteyam x fem!omaticaya!reader

contains: enemies to lovers (but ur not really enemies), stalker neteyam, kinda manipulative neteyam if u squint???, love confession, virginity loss, tsaheylu, p in v, creampie, poorly written !!!

wc: 2.8k unedited

na’vi words: skxawng = moron/idiot.

a/n: sorry if this isn’t what you expected!

Ever since the first time Neteyam laid eyes on you, he had been head over heels in love with you. But he didn’t like that he felt that way about you, so what better way to cover it up then by hating you more than anyone else in the clan?

You were so confused when you were the only person he would target and make fun of. To the public eye, he was nice, athletic, a charmer, and overall the golden boy of the clan. And not only was he the future Olo’eyktan, but he was also the son of Toruk Makto, which in your opinion, made it even worse and even more embarrassing whenever he would bully you. So, you’ve stood up for yourself the best you could.

But the truth was, he never enjoyed bullying you. He never enjoyed calling you degrading names like stupid or meaningless. In fact, he called himself stupid on the regular for starting a hateful pattern towards you and having no choice but to stick with it.

Every day he saw you, he wanted nothing more then to tell you how he truly felt, but he couldn’t just stop being mean to you out of the blue. You’d think something was up and that he was pranking you, so he just kept doing what he’d been doing since you were children.

He watched you from afar, doing your daily chores and sticking to the routine you had forged to keep yourself busy. Neteyam kept note and even followed you from a distance just to see where you were going, and he even kept track of who you talked to.

He had memorized your schedule, so if anyone just so happened to ask him where you were, all he had to do was figure out the time and then he’d know.

But today, you were doing something different. You were going somewhere he was unfamiliar of.

So, with a quick glance around to make sure no one was paying attention to him. He discarded what he was doing, and followed you discreetly, being far away enough for you to not realize he was there. He ran up a tree and jumped from vine to vine and tree to tree, following you from above and watching like an ikran hunting its meal.

And soon enough, you came to a stop, but Neteyam’s brows furrowed when he saw the stature of another man. He hears you laugh, and you take hold of another man’s hands. He watched through the green vines, glaring at the man he knew very well from training.

His name was Eaopu, and from what Neteyam could see from training, he had nothing to offer you. He was lazy, and couldn’t tell his left from right. Neteyam was in disbelief that you went out of your way to see this man, deep in the middle of the forest. Neteyam could feel his chest tighten as his mind raced with numerous thoughts of just marching over there and bashing Eaopu’s head in then making you his, but obviously he couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him because, afterall, you two were enemies and he couldn’t let you find out that he was basically stalking you and had been for years.

Neteyam watched as Eaopu pushed your dark, unbraided hair behind your ear, leaning in to whisper what he could only imagine was something dirty by the lustful look on his disgusting face.

“Eaopu,” Neteyam hears you say in an almost angry tone. “You know I don’t do that stuff. I’m waiting until marriage.”

“Oh, c’mon. We both know you won’t be mated any time soon,” Eaopu replied, grasping your forearm. “Why not just get it out of the way?”

Neteyams nostrils flare and his eyes darken as he listens to the conversation.

“Because! I want it to be special.” You tell him, pushing his chest to back him away from you, but he doesn’t budge. And Neteyam then knows what Eaopu’s intentions were with you. Leading you out into the deep forest to try to convince you to have sex with him, knowing how adamant you were on not having sex until marriage. Neteyam knew Eaopu was strong, so there’d be no way for you to get away if Eaopu tried what Neteyam feared.

“So then why’d you even meet me here? Huh?! Was this your plan this whole time? Get me all excited and leave me with blue balls?” Eaopu yelled, his voice echoing throughout the empty part of the forest you two were in.

You stare at Eaopu in disbelief as he backs you up against a tree. Neteyam then knew he had to step in.

The future Olo’eyktan jumped down from the tree and marched over to the scene, pushing back Eaopu’s shoulder, causing him to flinch.

“N-Neteyam!” Eaopu’s eyes widened, and he was taken aback by Neteyam’s sudden appearance. “This isn’t what it looks like.”

“Oh, really?” Neteyam knew he didn’t have to say much in order for Eaopu to surrender in fear and walk away. When he had done so, Neteyam turned to you, back against the rough bark of a tree.

“You okay?” He asked you, observing your body language.

“I don’t need your protection.” You say, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes. You were grateful, but you still quote on quote “hated” him so you had to keep that going.

“Hey, I just saved your ass from whatever he was about to do to you!” Neteyam shouted, arm pointed to where Eaopu had left.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t need you to save me! I can save myself.” You argue, and he chuckles.

“This is unbelievable.” He shakes his head, placing his hands on his hips. “I follow you out here, and save you from him, and you start-“

“You followed me out here?!” You cut him off and he freezes, lips parted. He tried to think of things he could say to get out of this.

“N-No, no. I didn’t follow you out here. Please.” He scoffed. “Why would I want to follow you, of all people? That’s ridiculous.” He defended himself, and you raised your hairless brows.

“Oh, yeah? So then how’d you get to save me just in time?” You ask, arms still crossed as you take a step towards him.

“I was hunting!” He defended once again, arms outstretched for a moment before falling to his side.

“Really? Where’s your bow and arrow?” You question.

He knew you had him, and he sighed in defeat, ears folded against his braids. “Okay, okay, fine. Yes, I followed you. But don’t let it get to your head, you skxawng. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.” He admitted, his eyes not missing the way your lips quirked up slightly.

You stay silent, feeling your cheeks burn up. Your heart thumped against your chest like a rock being tossed against your skin from the inside, and you looked away.

“Thanks. I guess.” You say in a soft tone, glancing at him when he steps forward.

“You're welcome.” He replies, and both of you are silent for a few moments before he breaks it.

“Listen, I…” He starts, but doesn’t know how. “I don’t want to hate each other anymore.”

His words make you stare at him, brows furrowed. “Hey, you’re the one that started it. What did I ever do to you, anyway? Y’know, since we’re here all alone, you might as well tell me. None of your friends are around to influence you, so please. Enlighten me.”

He opens his mouth then closes it, and he sighs again. “You never did anything to me, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“You never did anything to me. I suppose I started picking on you because..” He breathes in deeply before admitting his feelings to you. “I really liked you, and I didn’t know how to go about it because I was young, and dumb. But over the years, I just started liking you more and now I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do because I was a bully and I made you hate me and I don’t think we could be anything more the enemies and it hurts my soul every time we go at each others necks because it’s not what I want! I just want…” He runs his fingers around his mouth. “I just want you.”

Your eyes are wide as you listen to his rambling, and you swallow to relieve your dry throat. He just opened his heart to you, revealing that all this time when he made fun of you and humiliated you, he actually was just in love with you.

“I-I’m sorry. I don’t know why I dropped this on you. I should go.” He says when you just stand there and stare at him, but as he’s about to walk away, you grab his wrist and smash your mouth against his.

He melts into the kiss, his heart melting along with it. He brings his hand up to cup your cheek and his other hand to hold your waist. This is what he’s wanted for years. He’s wanted so badly to feel your lips against his; he’s spent years just imagining it.

When you pull away, your faces stay close and you can feel his warm panting against your lips. He pressed his forehead to yours and you whispered, “I want you, too.”

His eyes close briefly with a smile stretching across his lips, and he kisses you again.

“Then be mine. Forever.” He whispers against your plump lips, and you pull away slightly. When he sees your reaction, he’s quick to drop to his knees and lean his forehead on your lower stomach, hugging your thighs. “Please, Y/N. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this; how long I’ve wanted you. Do you know how many women I’ve turned down all because I was stuck on you?” He looks up at you, amber eyes filled with an emotion you’ve never seen on Neteyam.

His eyes were glossy and he looked up at you with pure desperation. He would never force you to do something you didn’t want to, but if you truly wanted him, then you two would come to an agreement.

“Neteyam, this is so sudden… and besides, you’ve said it yourself, no one would ever want to mate with me-“ He cuts you off and stands up, cupping your cheeks.

“No, no, no, no, I was lying, I was just saying that, I’m sorry.. I never meant anything I’ve ever said about you.” He tried to reassure you, and you stared at him, not quite knowing what to do.

“You want me, too, right?” He asked, and you nodded, putting your hands on his shoulders.

He takes your hands in his and gently brings you both to the ground on your knees in front of each other. He decided to sit and have a long talk with you about everything, and you both opened your hearts to each other. Tears spilled, and laughter filled the part of the forest you two were in, but eventually you came to an agreement.

That’s how you ended up underneath him, his bare body grinding against yours. You two had finally connected after years of covered up desire, and now you were one for all of eternity.

Neteyam couldn’t describe the feeling of being mated with you in words, he could only feel how amazing and euphoric it felt for your souls to be intertwined.

You two breathed heavily, gasping and panting between kisses as Neteyam pushed into you, his cock pulsing in his hand as he breached you for the first time. You hissed at the pain of being stretched out this much for the first time, and he could feel it through the bond. He could feel your pain, but also your burning desire to get past it the best you could.

“Are you alright?” He asked in a voice you’d never thought you’d hear him talk in. He has bottomed out inside of you, and remained very still while hovering over you, his arms holding himself up at either side of your head, caging you.

He tried so hard to not pull back and pound into you like his gut was telling him to, but he wanted to listen to his heart and his mind, and he wanted to wait until you were ready.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Ju-Just go slow.” You tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he pulled out about an inch and then pushed in. This feeling was so new for the both of you. The way your pussy enveloped around his cock tightly made his head dizzy, and the way his cock penetrated you and hit spots inside of you that you didn’t think could be reached made your brain feel all gooey.

He kissed your jaw, and pulled out more, then back in, searching for any sign of discomfort through the bond. He fortunately found nothing within the shared connection, and slid in and out of you faster.

You place a hand down at his abs, trying to tell him to go slower because you weren’t quite ready, and he groaned before slowing down. He wanted to pound you like an animal, but he wanted you to feel good, too. He didn’t want to hurt you, not anymore. He wanted to protect you forever, and he didn’t want anyone to walk all over you anymore. Now, he would protect you like a mate should.

“Oh, great mother.” You whine, throwing your head back and clenching around him even tighter then before. He didn’t even know it was possible for him to be inside something so wet and tight.

“Fuck, you’re so tight. Can’t believe I’ve been missing out on you for so long, I should’ve told you I loved you a long time ago.” He said softly in your ear and his hips rocked back and forth. “I regret everything from before- fuck… I regret not taking you as mine since the moment I realized I was in love with you.”

You couldn’t speak, you felt like everytime his bulbous tip hit that spongy part inside of you that felt particularly good, the air left your lungs. You struggled to form a coherent thought as his cock fucked you dumb. You never knew your enemy's cock could feel this good; though, you’re not enemies anymore.

Neteyam supported his weight on one arm while the other reached down to play with the small nub he's thought so many times about sucking and rubbing. He rubbed tight circles on your clit, making your back arch into him, your chest pressing against his.

“You’re so pretty,” He whispered, kissing your cheek and then pecking your lips. “So beautiful.”

You wanted to thank him, but you knew he could hear it in his mind.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum already.” He murmured, whining loudly when his cock twitched. He felt a burning sensation throughout him, and you grind your hips back against his, helping him reach his orgasm as well as reaching your own high.

“M-Me, too, I think.” You say, panting and moaning. He rubbed your clit faster, and you wrapped your legs tightly around his waist, pulling his cock further inside of you.

You both cum at the same time, your orgasms sending tingles throughout both of your bodies that twitched and spasmed against each other. Neteyam’s hips continued to grind as he spilled inside of you, and you could feel his cum sloshing around inside of you. You closed your eyes at the feeling, and your hips jerked at the stimulation.

“That was…” Neteyam started talking to praise you, but he couldn’t wrap his head around how good it felt. He never thought he would actually be able to get you to be his, he always just thought he fucked up his oppurtunity to be with you, but now that he had you, he was never going to let you go for as long as you two lived.

He was going to worship you and never say anything mean to you ever again until his dying days.

He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and remained inside of you. You hug him tightly, inhaling his scent. Then, he rolled over to lay next to you, pulling out of you slowly with a pop! sound.

He grabbed your waist and pulled you close, your nude bodies pressed against each other as your limbs tangled before finally sleeping. He knew his father would be looking for him, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything else or any other responsibilities. He only cared about you now.

[lumineary-arts]

Can you explain more about the Thuzi relationship in your murder drone swap au please? I am in LOVE with your AU and while i am a Nuzi shipper for life, i am interested how Thad and Uzi relationship is like with them being in V and N’s role respectively.

This is gonna be a DOOOOZY so sit back and enjoy the essay!

Back in the mansion, Thad and Uzi 100% had mutual crushes on each other. Uzi was the tomboyish maid who didn't always love doing her duties and she ESPECIALLY didn't like being bossed around, but there were a few things making it worth it. For one, there was her bond with Nori, there was the fact she needed to look after Doll, and then there was Thad.

In the mansion he was always super friendly and chill. Very outgoing despite their situation. Even though Lizzy gave her shit a lot of the time just for being.. her, Thad was extremely kind to Uzi. He'd lightly flirt with her a lot, they bonded over her interests, and it was obvious to both of them that they had a good thing going.

When their memories got wiped and they got turned into Disassembly Drones, his personality seemed to do a 180. All of a sudden, though he was still outgoing and flirty, he was also violent, smug and acted, for a lack of a better term, like a douche. She still liked him though, she felt like she could kinda see beyond that. I mean.. sure they spent less time together, given how he spends a lot more time ripping the entrails out of whatever poor worker drone he set his eyes on... but he was still Thad. They had a.. thing going on... she thinks. She can't remember. But, she still liked him.

But when she met N, this sweet and nerdy worker drone who actually got along with her really well and seemed to always have his heart in the right place, she really started to tolerate Thad's "bully" behavior towards him a lot less. N wasn't really throwing punches back in Thad's way so that made it hard to watch. She was usually the mediator between them and being way more hot-headed than N was, she often got into arguments with Thad every time it happened. By Episode 3, she realized she wasn't crushing on him like she was before.

Even with that though, she still cared about him so much. When he sacrifices himself in Episode 6 she's beside herself. Overall, Thad's still extremely important to her and she does love him, just not in the same way she did before. They're very very close to this day.

On Thad's end of things, his personality change after their transformation was more of a facade than anything. He took on a violent, macho persona because it made him feel safer and more in control of himself, even though he still had the traumatizing memories of the mansion. He remembered Uzi and their mutual crushes, his feelings for her hadn't went away. But for whatever reason, he found it was easier to push those emotions away because they just reminded him of the mansion and what Doll did. And THAT, he couldn't handle.

He prioritized killing worker drones because in some ways, it was fun and he was at the top of the food chain. If he did that, he'd survive, so would Uzi and Lizzy, and he could get a sadistic kick out of ripping his prey apart. Something that he used to cope. This was his life now, he might as well enjoy it.

But then there came N, convincing Uzi to make peace with the worker drones and somehow Thad ended up.. "allying" with them in a way. N was scrawny and an easy target and so obviously had a thing for Uzi, it was lowkey annoying. Thad played along with their truce, but he still took the opportunities to mess with and pick on N since he felt a weird bit of antagonistic hostility toward the little guy.

I think Thad could sense Uzi's feelings for him fade over time, with every moment he stayed uncooperative and antagonistic, and it lowkey saddened him. But he couldn't really change how he was acting. It was his way of coping and if it meant losing Uzi overtime, then.. so be it.

But luckily for him, she never seemed to wanna drop him completely. She still cared about him and he still cared about her. His romantic feelings for her faded over time, especially after she and N started dating for real. Besides, he's alive, they're still friends, he has another friend in J.. he can finally kinda start living a normal life.

So they're good. He and Uzi are alive, and they're good. <3

chat its 2am does any of this make sense to you

[miguelsslvt]

Hello mother ❤❤😇 how your day going so far

i just wanted to ask you if you could make an bully!miguel x nerd!reader (virgin fem)

Where miguel very much loves to bully reader,maybe an little to much,loves to see her cry, loves to see an reaction from her,and especially when she vulnerable, but never show that side of him to reader,but he masterbate the thought of reader sucking his dick with tears running down her face,but It was until one day where reader was helping with one of the other nerd their, seeing her smiling to ear to ear made his blood boiling,vein popping,eyes cold as the negative zero,but he just walk off leaving,he already had an punishment in mind for reader, (whatever you want,you could put one) where miguel beat the crap out of the guy and making sure that the guy knew to never touch his nerd,and then the next day miguel locks her up with him in an empty classroom and nsfw part come here,😅🙂 just wants him to be an little possessive (that is definitely isn't an LITTLE but who care)

IDK ANYMORE just an request

😜

bully! miguel x nerd! virgin! reader smut

word count: 1.9k

TW: nsfw, smut, bullying, swear words, threats, miguel is lowkey a perv, loss of virginity.

A/N: FINALLY mother has posted!! quite a long one today, could u tell? welcome to the club!! ^^

you felt weak. helpless. Every time he would utter a word to you, it was never anything nice. Always spiteful. Big mean Miguel o’hara. The rudest but coolest boy in your whole year. You’d be like any girl, gawking and jumping circles around him, if it wasn’t for the way he treated you. You should be flattered, really. Considering all the attention and nicknames he gives you. Although, I wouldn’t say ‘freak’ or ‘know it all weirdo’ are considered ‘cute nicknames’.

He practically barred you from gaining any social status, let alone friends. and as much as Miguel does it to everyone, he liked to specifically target you. Why? god knows. All you know is that Miguel is an asshole. A big one.

——————————————————

It was AP English, and you were supposed to be studying for a Macbeth assignment coming up. Supposed to. That was until Peter Parker, who could possibly be the only other person in school that was as bullied as you, decided to sit beside you and ‘hang out’. Your teacher was on pretty good terms with you, so he didn’t mind having two nerds coddled up in the back of class talking about the latest ‘nyc best seller book’. However, when Miguel noticed you both talking in the back, he realised quickly that you two weren’t talking about book clubs.

‘He’s such a jerk, right?’ Peter said, as you were a giggly mess. You put your hand on peter’s as you crouched to laugh even more. Miguel’s eyes darkened. ‘He is! W-when he’s like, ‘oh yeah I’m the coolest kid in school’, when in truth no one actually likes him!’ You replied, as you and Peter clung onto each other, both laughing messes.

Miguel clenched his jaw, realising you must be talking about him. god, he never felt more rage then he did right now.

The truth was, Miguel did bully you. He knew that. he did it on purpose. Just watching you cry, watching you move away from him in the halls so he didn’t heckle you, that arose something in Miguel that made him smirk whenever you squirmed. However, you didn’t know that most nights when he got a reaction out of you, he would lock himself in his room and pull his cock so hard he’s as much of a mess as you were. Hell, he’s even caught himself whimpering your name a few times. But he wouldn’t ever admit it to you. I mean, its ridiculous! What popular asshole admits to the nerd of the school that he’s been touching himself just thinking about her?! His reputation would be ruined! but would he still do it? absolutely.

‘Honestly, I sometimes think flash is the meanest in our school.’ you say, as peter nods in agreement. ‘Yeah absolutely, either him or Miguel.’ He says, as you tilt your head. ‘Whys that?’ You ask, eyebrows furrowed. Peter raises an eyebrow. ‘I mean, cmon y/n, he’s horrible to you, he made you cry yesterday just because you took the last cake in the cafeteria!’ He said, chuckling. You look down. ’I dunno.. I mean he is a little mean to me but still, the difference between Miguel and flash is that Miguel is actually nice to his friends. flash is an asshole to everyone, including his own family.’ You admit.

Peter looks shocked. ‘I mean, you can’t be serio-‘ ‘been talking bad about me, Pete?’ A deep voice was heard. Your blood ran cold. You could see the fear on peter’s face. you both turned around, seeing Miguel towering above you both. You stood up immediately. ‘I- Miguel I don’t think peter meant it in a malicious way’ ‘I’ll deal with you in a second.’ Miguel snapped, as you looked down.

‘M-miguel I didn’t mean to-‘ Peter stammered, as Miguel scoffed. ‘You didn’t mean to? Oh yeah? So what, you weren’t just saying all that shit?’ He said, as Peter looked down. ‘I-i’m sorry.’ He stuttered, as Miguel clenched his fists. ‘You do anything like that again, I’ll get flash to fuck you up again. You hear me?’ He said threateningly, as he lifted his finger to tap on peter’s glasses. ‘Fixed your glasses huh? hm.. shame. Me and flash worked hard breaking them last semester.’ He mocked, as you looked away. The bell soon rang, and you and Peter quickly gathered your stuff to leave.

It was lunch, as you walked down the hall towards the cafeteria, you heard your ‘nickname’. ‘Hey, know it all!’ Miguel shouted out, as you turned around slowly. ‘Y-yes?’ You stuttered, as he grabbed your hand, pulling you into an empty classroom.

You squeaked, falling back into the wall, as Miguel locked the door beside you. ‘I-i didn’t m-mean to be mean last class Miguel i-i swear I-‘ ‘shut your mouth.’ He said, his voice deeper then usual. He turned around from you, as your face grew concerned. ‘A-are you okay?’ You asked. you hear him chuckle, turning towards you. ‘You’re supposed to be smart, but you can’t see what’s about to happen?’ He asked teasingly, moving closer to you. he stopped just as your noses touched, you could feel his hot breath on your lips.

‘..i-if this is some sick prank, it’s really mean.’ You whispered, refusing to look at Miguel in the eyes. He noticed that. ‘Look at me.’ He said, as you hesitantly look up at Miguel. ‘There she is.’ He teased, his finger lifting up your chin. ‘..y’know, I don’t actually think you’re ugly.’ He confessed, as your eyebrows rose.

You were confused. Very confused. ‘Wh-what are you..?’ You tried saying, as Miguel leaned closer to your lips. ‘Let me kiss you.’ He whispered, as your eyes widened. ‘..you-you hate me.’ You said, looking up at Miguel. He smirked. ‘Who says that?’ He teased. He leaned closer to your er. ‘I’ve been infatuated about you for a while now. I never knew why, but when I saw you with damn Parker.. it’s made me realise. Made me know for sure now that I want you.’ He confesses, as you gasped. ‘you.. what?’ you uttered out, as he leaned back towards your lips. ‘Can I kiss you?’ He asks, as you took a moment to digest what he just said.

Did Miguel O’hara just confess he liked you thew whole time he was bullying you? This is all too confusing for you. You should say no, you should go, you should push him away.

‘..yes.’ you muttered, as you watched Miguel’s eyes lighten up with something. Lust? Love? You’re not too sure. What you were sure about, however, was his lips on yours. It was a funny feeling, considering it was your first kiss.

His lips were warmer compared to yours, but they were soft. Too soft. As you both indulged in the kiss, his hands moved down towards your waist. You weren’t sure where to put your hands, so you just settled with his shoulders and hoped it was the right move.

He let go eventually, panting for air, as were you. He smirked. ‘You haven’t kissed anyone before, have you?’ He mocked. ‘Let me guess, you a virgin too?’ He spoke as you blushed, looking away. He moved his right hand to move your chin towards him. ‘Nothing to be ashamed of, sweetheart. Let me take care of that for you.’ He said, his voice sultry.

before you could respond, Miguel grabbed your hips and led you to an empty desk, lifting you up onto it.

You squeaked again, as he just chuckled in response. ‘Who knew little crybaby nerd was such a compliant little girl?’ He teased, as you looked up at him, your face filled with embarrassment. His lips met yours once again, as he kissed you sensually. He lifted your uniform skirt up, his hands travelling up and down your thighs. You pulled away from the kiss slightly to gasp, as he sighed. ‘..you ok with this?’ He asked, as you looked down. Soon enough you looked up at Miguel, nodding. You put your hands on his necks, as you pulled him in for another kiss.

You both were indulged in the moment, and before you knew it, your panties were off and Miguel was unbuckling his belt. You looked down patiently, and honestly a little nervously, to see if the rumour of ‘big dick Miguel’ was true.

‘..it is true.’ You mumbled, eyes wide as his hardened 8 and a half inches stood with pride. He raised an eyebrow. ‘What was true?’ He asked, confused. ’n-nothing. I.. is it.. is it erm, y’know- gonna hurt?’ You asked, your voice shaky. He looked down at you, sighing. ‘It might. But it’ll feel good soon enough, trust me. Okay?’ He said, kissing you softly for what seemed like the first time ever.

He slowly pushed inside, as your eyes widened. Before he could get to more then the tip, you winced. ’S-stop!’ You said, as he stopped moving. ‘..l-let me just.. g-get used to it..’ You said head on Miguel’s shoulder. He tutted, stroking you hair. ‘Haven’t you even put a finger in there before? Damn it, darling, you’re tight..’ He said, kissing your head. eventually, you caught your breath. ‘..g-go deeper.’ You said, as he nodded patiently, pushing all of himself inside. You cried out, tears falling down your face, and something switched in Miguel again.

He couldn’t help himself. That sweet defenceless face of yours, hot with tears, was enough to make him start bucking his hips into yours. He pulled in and out, his hands stuck tightly on your hips, as you clawed on his shoulders, gasping and whining from the painful.. pleasure? Maybe Miguel it was right, maybe it does start to feel good after a while.

As you both got into a rhythm, the pain was overseen by the pleasure soon enough. You were moaning in Miguels ear, gasping. God this was like a dream for him. You were a squirming, whimpering mess, putty in his hands. And he loved every bit of it. ‘god.. you’re so fuckable.. w-who knew the nerd would be such a fucking cute little slut?’ He teased you, as you just moaned in response. ‘Told you it’d feel good, didn’t I? C’mon sweetheart, use your words.’ He cooed, your face scrunching up in a mixture of pain and pleasure. He moved his hand from your waist to your cheek, as he wiped some of your hair away. ‘Hm? Thought you were smart, sweetheart. Wheres all those big words now huh?’ Miguel whispered, as you felt your stomach getting hot. ‘I- m-miguel i-it feels weird..!’ You managed to moan out, as he moved his forehead to rest on your own. ‘You’re gonna cum sweetheart, thats why.. don’t worry, I am too. we can do it together, yeah?’ He panted, as you nodded.

Soon enough, you reached your high, as Miguel played with your clit, making your first orgasm fucking amazing. Your eyes rolled back, as you moaned loudly. As you started to come down, Miguel pulled out, and came on your thighs with a loud grunt. You both stayed for a moment like this, your foreheads leaning on one another, sweaty and panting. once Miguel caught his breath, he cleared his throat and fixed his pants, walking over to the empty teachers desk to find some tissues, walking back over to you as he silently cleaned your messy thighs. Once he was finished, he looked down at you, leaning closer. ‘..you okay?’ He asked quietly.

‘m..mhm.’ you choked out, looking down. ‘I-..I won’t tell anyone.’ You reassured, as he nodded, moving your skirt down. ‘..you should go to the bathroom before running to the cafeteria. Your hair is uh.. y’know.’ He said, as you blushed and nodded.

Miguel left before you, as you stood up and sighed, fixing your hair and uniform. You then looked around the classroom.

You’ll never be able to look at history classroom the same ever again.

[annakaspring]

Officially the longest rant I've ever posted

Snater mauraders fans literally being the most shallow people on earth.

I will see them saying Snape deserved to be targeted and bullied. And the reason is always the same.

"he was creepy" how was he creepy? "He was obsessed with Lily and possessive of her."

oh, you mean like how James threatened to physically assault Lily if she didn't go on a date with him while simultaneously bullying her friend? While Severus did as Lily asked and left her alone when she said their friendship was over.

"He was racist." No, comparing the word mudblood a fictional slur to a real life racial slur is so ignorant, problematic and also completely disregards that there could be actual racism in the Harry Potter universe. And Snape is not a pureblood in fact he is way more muggle born than half blood as he grew up in a muggle neighborhood, wearing muggle clothes. Is what Snape called Lily right? No. could she have still been hurt? Yes. But I see the same people who bash Snape, Stan Malfoy who is canonically a pureblood who hates muggle-borns. Like be so for fucking for real rn.

"He was a nazi" Again, comparing a fictional "cult" to real life devastating history is ignorant and frankly ridiculous. But let's just humor that idea for a moment. Then why do I see maurader fans idolizing characters like Barry Crouch Jr? Or Regulus Black? Who not only joined the death eaters just like Severus did but were privileged purebloods who unlike Severus had money, a proper home, family. And in Barty Jr's case he is literally canonically evil.

"He was a bully." So was James, so was Sirius.And both James and Sirius are canonically described as being obviously well loved and privileged while Snape "so obviously lacked" that. Severus had reasons to be cold, stand offish and rude. had a terrible home life, neglectful if not straight up abusive parents, a single friend, depressed and was poor. What was James's excuse?

And I will see ppl who loooove Draco Malfoy yet despise Snape. Draco Malfoy, who is repeatedly voiced his pureblood prejudice so much as saying he wished death upon Hermione Granger simply for her blood status, was a HUGE bully, surely bigger than Snape ever was if he did ever bully (he didn't). Severus Snape used a slur once, once when he was a child while he was being SA'd and regretted it so much he never used the word again. While Draco literally never even apologized for his fanatical white supremacist behavior. "Well he didn't want to kill Dumbledore" I'm sorry but being too cowardly to kill someone does not equal being a good person.

"Oh well they changed, they grew up and became better." Did they? Where's the proof? Where's the evidence? I never saw Sirius own up to his actions. Remus still excused his friends bullying. "Well actually Draco actually liked Hermione the whole time. And that's why he was so mean to her" So? If anything that makes even worse. If a guy wished me dead, was openly vile to I wouldn’t suddenly be okay with it because he was actually attracted to me the whole time.

So what arguments do the Snaters have left?

Nothing, absolutely zero justification other than shallow, half baked reasons.

Severus Snape commits the most unforgivable sin. Being poor, morally grey AND ugly.

Because being poor can be forgiven as long as you're hot i.e Remus Lupin. But forbid they actually show signs of their class. Being malnourished, having hand me clothes, not being able to have proper hygiene. These are all things that actually happen to severely lower class individuals. Being a pureblood snob can be forgiven as long as you're hot. Being actually evil with zero justification is forgiven as long as you're hot.

People will twist and headcanon characters we get two pages of information on into fully fleshed out people with intricate backstories and believable justification for all their evil behavior.

Meanwhile bashing Snape who is one the most complex, dark, interesting character in the series. All because Snape is "ugly".

Because god forbid a character does not fit their rigid beauty standards and is actually complex and human.

And we're not gonna get into how literally not once was Snape ever explicitly described as ugly or how Draco Malfoy in the books described as having a pointed, rat like face.

And just to clarity I'm not trying yuck anybody's yum. Love the characters you love, stan evil ones, ship all the characters you want. I do! I ship character who make absolutely no sense in canon. create intricate stories for background characters all you want That's what fandom is all about. But don't act you have an actual reason for hating Snape while simultaneously stanning Voldemort and Barty Crouch Jr.

Be straightforward and say you don't like him because he does not fit your rigid cookie cutter beauty standards and you have no compassion.

Cheers,

[lxrd-ren]

Fuck it

NICO MASTERMIND THEORY, HEAR ME OUT

(Disclaimer this is not in any way like an extremely good theory like the Whit ones, but the more I thought about it the more it made some sort of sense; like more than you'd think)

Alright, just thought of this like 20 minutes ago when listening to a song. Thought 'Oh hey this reminds me of Nico' cause the song was about a girl who deleted her classmates as revenge for bullying her. She goes on to delete all of her classmates, aka, everyone.

I thought to myself, 'Huh, where have I heard that before'.

...

One of the main reasons we believe the killing game is happening in the first place is revenge for Mai, whether it's specifically targeted towards Teruko or the entire cast. I mean we got recent confirmation from MonoTV that the killing game is meant to go on until everyone is dead so it's hardly far-fetched.

Now, circle back to Nico, who tried to kill Ace, and by extension everyone else, out of revenge. Nico, who voiced how they would've understood Levi killing if he simply 'didn't like them'

Revenge is a big theme with Nico, pair that with a killing game that was started out of revenge and it doesn't seem all that far-fetched

HOLD ON THERES MORE I PROMISE

Moving onto another obvious one; MonoTV is a cat.

Nico is largely associated with cats from having cat-like hair, eyes, gloves, and a scratch that looks like it's from a cat. And even though their ultimate talent is to do with pets in-general, they seem to mention cats specifically a lot with telling Xander and Teruko a fact about cats, saying about how they'd rather be with their cats; hell even in the voice trailer they mention cats.

To conclude, whilst I don't think Nico designed MonoTV themselves, I think it's more MonoTV was built for or with them in mind

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

NEXT

With the Mai page, everyone had a sentence that links both to Mai but also to themselves. Like Rose's mentioning memory.

They nearly all start off similar with either beginning with 'A girl' or 'She'. The ones that don't follow this trend stuck out to me. Namely, MonoTV's, Min's, Nico's and Teruko's.

Teruko and MonoTV being unique is expected, but Mins and Nicos being unique is a bit strange. As you've read the title of this post, I'm sure you could already guess I wanna talk about Nico's.

Now, 'Everyone confided in her'.

In connection to Mai, we can guess that she was friends with all of the cast, and as a result, knew personal things about them.

We also know that the mastermind knows these things also what with knowing Whit is a light sleeper and Hu's favourite brand of clothing.

From this, we can assume that either Mai is the mastermind, or Mai told the mastermind these things.

And then, quite randomly, Nico is paired up with this statement. Only reason I can think of as to why is because Nico is the one Mai told.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

MOVING ON

This one's a bit of a stretch but stay with me

Above is Nicos secret quote. Now, we shall assume this quote will follow the trend of eventually being said by whoever it is paired up with. I get that this is already a likely thing for Nico to say regardless if they are the mastermind or not, but I think it makes more sense if Nico is the mastermind.

Alright, Nico starts the killing game out of revenge for Mai. Come Chapter 6 or something, Nico is revealed to be the mastermind. When explaining their reasoning for the killing game, they go on about how it's the casts / Terukos fault in the first place.

(If they are referring to the cast as a whole it makes sense as they refer to it as 'mistakes', multiple mistakes. Aka, more likely done between a group of people compared to just one.)

(If they are referring to Teruko it also makes sense because her real secret is theorised to be 'THE KILLING GAME IS ALL YOUR FAULT'.)

AKA, 'WHY SHOULD I TAKE THE FAULT FOR THE KILLING GAME WHEN YOU ARE THE ONE/S THAT MADE THOSE MISTAKES TOWARDS MAI IN THE FIRST PLACE'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AND IF THATS NOT ENOUGH, THERES ONE MORE THING

Above is the placements in the trial

Now, most of them seemingly don't have much significance except for Teruko + David being across from each other cause y'know, Protagonist vs Antagonist

Assume that Nico is the mastermind, aka the one who started the killing game in the first place.

Their placement is across from XANDER, THE ONE WHO WAS DETERMINDED TO END THE KILLING GAME

[descendant-of-truth]

If I may throw my hat into the ring here, I think the source of a lot of problems in the writing of Miraculous can be boiled down to its confusion over its target demographic.

There are two very clear audiences the show is trying to cater to:

Grade school girls around 5-10

Teens/young adults around 15-20

And this results in some. unique conflicts in the show's internal logic.

Because it's a superhero show for little kids, it's full of fun, bright colors, wacky villain-of-the-week designs, and the characters are all very straightforward with exaggerated personality traits. The cheerful, clumsy, scatterbrained girl protagonist, her utterly charming and goofy (but slightly clueless) love interest, her cool best friend, her mean bully, etc.

This extends to the romance; the show is so comedic that Marinette's nervous crush and Cat Noir's flirting are played up for laughs. Their more "problematic" behaviors read as cartoon shenanigans first and foremost, which I do think was the intention - they're both shown as being more than a little ridiculous for acting this way, so they're not exactly trying to encourage people to emulate them. They're allowed to be genuinely wholesome, too, because it's nice to give the kids something to go "aww!" at, but it's not meant to be more complicated or deep than that.

And of course, it's gotta follow a sweet and simple episodic formula! A conflict in Marinette's civilian life, an inciting incident to get a side character upset enough for Hawk Moth to turn into a villain, Ladybug and Cat Noir show up, there's fun banter, Ladybug uses her Lucky Charm to figure out a wacky solution to the problem, and boom! The day is saved, Marinette and/or someone else learns a moral, and we get a cute little end screen showing all the key players of the episode.

The one aspect of the show's setup that's a little more serious is the fact that Adrien has a super controlling and distant father, but even this is something that doesn't necessarily break the kid-friendly tone for the first season or two. Superhero shows in particular like to put in some stuff that's a little more emotionally challenging for the viewers, even when they're mostly comedic, so it's not totally out of place here.

For example, while they tend to have more grounded tones overall, Spider-Man cartoons are aimed at kids and regularly keep the conflict between Harry Osborn and his father, Norman, intact; often including the plot point of Norman being the Green Goblin, a notorious villain. It's a similar deal with Adrien, and his dad secretly being Hawk Moth.

You can easily anticipate drama coming from this, but the show primes you to expect it to work out fine in the end because every other conflict so far has been wrapped up in a nice little bow once the episode's over. Though I will say, the choice to have Hawk Moth be Gabriel instead of his own, separate character is perhaps the first sign of the tone shift to come.

And, uh. it sure is a shift.

See, Miraculous does not start out with what you'd call a... plot. It vaguely alludes to there being more going on behind the scenes, but the only thing it really tries to get you invested in is the Love Square dynamic. Marinette and Adrien dancing around each other while fighting crime IS the plot, and it's clearly going to end with a cool final confrontation with Hawk Moth.

You expect it to end like... well, like the movie. Identities are revealed, Gabriel realizes the error of his ways when he finds out he's been fighting his son this whole time, and they may or may not make up but he almost definitely gets arrested. Marinette and Adrien kiss, roll credits.

This is not what happens, because the plot the writers actually had in mind is complex in a way that I would argue is meant for the same audience as YA novels. And with that plot comes a lot of darker, weightier traits to these otherwise silly characters.

Marinette isn't just scatterbrained and nervous, she has debilitating anxiety and an increasing need to be in control of everything due to the stress she's under. She has panic attacks on-screen. She's not just great at strategizing, she also knows how to manipulate people, and does so with increasing frequency - and to Cat Noir at times, no less. Her positive traits haven't gone anywhere, she's still loving and creative and sweet and doing her best to help everyone she can, she just. has all of that other stuff going on, now.

Adrien isn't just a charming, goofy, clueless love interest with a gazillion skills and a controlling father, he's like. actively being abused, and in some cases straight-up mind controlled. His tendency to heroically sacrifice himself so that Ladybug can do her Cool Protagonist Thing is gradually but unmistakably reframed as being a sign of suicidal inclinations. He has identity issues out the wazoo and he doesn't even know he's an artificially created human yet, because everyone in his life is keeping secrets from him and/or lying to his face about crucial information.

Information like, uh. how his dad died???

Yeah, so we're at a point in the story now where there was no satisfying conclusion to the Gabriel plot, no team-up, no moment where he realizes he's been fighting his son, none of that. He still has something akin to a change of heart, but he also still kind of gets what he wants - the Miraculous of the Ladybug and Black Cat, which he uses to rewrite the universe with a wish. It's just that instead of reviving his wife, he trades his life for Natalie's. Of course, he was already dying anyway, which was his own fault but he did force Cat Noir's Cataclysm onto himself, so, that's another thing poor Adrien is going to have to deal with at some point.

And because there's all these astronomically messed up things in Adrien's life, and Marinette's the one who got to learn about all of it before him, she decides that maybe it would be better if he just. didn't know about it. Which is understandable, if I was 14 and had all this information about my boyfriend's life that he didn't, I wouldn't know how to begin telling him about it, either.

But. can you see how we've maybe lost the plot, here?

Here's the thing: starting with a simple framework and gradually getting more complex and subverting the audience's expectations for how the main villain is going to be dealt with is not a bad thing. The fact that it gets darker over time is not an issue. I actually think that all these developments are, themselves, pretty cool! I'm a sucker for angst and complex character dynamics and the show is absolutely giving me those things.

The problem is that it didn't just start with a simple framework, it started with the framework for a different demographic entirely, and perhaps just as importantly, it never actually... stopped.

For as much complexity and intensity they're injecting this story with, they're still working under the logic of it being "for young kids." We still get goofy villain-of-the-week designs with equally goofy motivations, and the supporting cast is stuck remaining two-dimensional no matter their circumstances. Chloe is the most blatant example of this - she was made to be a simple bully first, so no matter what else they do with her, she has to remain straightforwardly evil.

This, I think, is the reason that Gabriel is a more nuanced and "sympathetic" antagonist than her, and why so much care goes into Adrien's character as a victim of abuse while Chloe is just a Problem Child despite suffering similar neglect; she wasn't made to be interesting, and so the show is resistant to changing that. Gabriel and Adrien, however, were already made with nuance in mind, and so they're allowed to develop as characters. And at the same time, it's a kid's show! We need to teach the kids what kind of behavior is acceptable, and Chloe's home life isn't an excuse to treat people badly, so--!

...Oh crap we're supposed to be teaching kids about acceptable behavior. Uh. Um. Quick, bring back the ice cream akuma who cares way too much about his ships so that Cat Noir can learn about consent! Uhh, but don't change his character too much afterwards, he's only marketable because of his silly flirting, and we can't lose that.

Yeah, remember when I said that the romance having problematic elements to it used to work well enough because it was clearly just exaggerated cartooniness? It wasn't free from criticism or anything, but you could see how it was intended to be endearing and silly, right? You were supposed to point and laugh at Marinette's convoluted plans to spend time with Adrien, at Cat Noir's dramatic flirting attempts that Ladybug herself fondly rolled her eyes at.

The tonal shift into deep character exploration kinda paints the previous stuff in a worse light, and to an extent, I think the writers know that. It's hard to laugh at Cat Noir being flirty all the time when he's also supposed to be taken completely seriously, and the more Ladybug rejects him, the more it turns into harassment, and it. kinda just stops being funny, even with the comedic framing.

It's also hard to laugh at Marinette's crush being so all-consuming when they try to tell us (in what I can only assume was an attempt to get people to stop complaining) that she's like this because it's fueled by an event in her past, one that made her so scared of loving the wrong person that she now needs to know Everything about them before asking them out. Her cartoon antics aren't funny under that light, it's just concerning, but they're dedicated to keeping it up anyway.

The show runs on straightforward cartoon logic where you're not supposed to think about it too hard just as much as it runs on grounded, closer-to-real-life logic where people are messy and complicated and actions have consequences. It's so divided that you can hand-pick parts of the story that are influenced by one or the other pretty easily, and depending on the episode you can find instances of both in the same 20-minute time span. Maybe even multiple times!

Neither thing they're trying to go for is bad, and neither is a better approach than the other, but forcing them into the same show makes both sides suffer.

It's not just hard to laugh at the parts I mentioned earlier, it's hard to take Gabriel seriously as a villain whenever you rewatch an episode and remember that he has a once-per-episode pun-based speech that he says so self-seriously that you can't help but laugh at. It's hard to take him seriously when you remember that he repeatedly akumatized a Literal Baby and practically threw a tantrum every time it didn't work, or when he randomly steals (and enthusiastically performs) his nephew's musical dance number, or something similar that you would only do for a cartoon villain aimed at five-year-olds.

And I can only imagine this whole show is a marketing nightmare, too. Hey, little girls, here's your cool role model! She's cute and smart and talented and powerful and can fix anything by shouting the title of the show! Hope you're having fun watching her tell her boyfriend that his newly-deceased father (who used deepfakes of him to sell merchandise that's built to enslave the population and then locked him in a solitary confinement chamber in another country) was actually a hero who sacrificed himself to stop the main villain instead of, y'know, being the main villain! Aren't you excited to watch her wrestle with the guilt of this lie for the next season or so? Doesn't it just make you want to buy her merchandise??

Like. what is even happening right now. what am I watching. how did we get here and why did we start where we did if this was what the story was going to be about

[pandorxxx]

Slumber Party

Lo’ak x Omatikaya fem reader (all aged up)

I want to thank my favorite girl @atxxokirina for the idea, and for writing half of this fic with me. I love you, mama💞🥺!

Warnings: Heavy smut, cursing, p in v, Voyuerism, multiple orgasms, creampie. Soft-dom lo’ak (cheating).

Synopsis: when you have another bad dream, you go to your bestfriends hut. You see his girlfriend sound asleep, yet lo’ak still invited you in, even gave you a room to yourself. What happens when he offers to watch over you?

🔞mdni🔞

You and Lo’ak were always close. Even when you two were little, it was always a big bro, little sis kind of relationship. You were always really shy, so it made you an easy target for bullies. Lo’ak was a hot head, and he had no issue coming to your defense, even if that meant a fight or two.

A part of you was somewhat of attracted to it. You know, having your own personal bodyguard wherever you went, and him being total eye candy helped a lot as well. You thought that this whole thing would change once he got a girlfriend, but maybe you were wrong.

He continued to protect you. Accompany you everywhere, and he couldn’t give two shits what his girlfriend thought about it. She could either get with it, or get lost. So when you showed up at his hut door, visibly shaken up, he let you in. No hesitation.

“What happened, bro? Who did this?” He whispered, waving you into the hut. You sighed, walking in swiftly for him to shut the door. You hated that you were so damn needy. You didn’t mean to be, but you knew that Lo’ak would be there for you whenever.

“No, I had another bad dream.” You reassure, trying to be as quiet as possible, being sure not to wake his sleeping girlfriend. She was sprawled out in the sheets, an empty spot next to her where Lo’ak was.

“So no one hurt you, right?” He asked again, a cocked eyebrow as he awaited an answer. You rolled your eyes. “No, psycho.” You whispered, briefly glancing at his girlfriend. He noticed, pulling you in for a hug by your wrist. He held the back of your head, his other hand dangerously low on your back.

“Don’t worry about her. You can sleep in the guest room.” He reassured, his strong hand rubbing your lower back slowly. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was being alittle too affectionate. But maybe it was just a slip up. So you decided to correct it. You reached around, placing your hand on his, guiding it up to the middle of your back.

“I’m just being friendly. No?” He joked, grabbing your other hand to guide you into the guest room. You scanned the spacious hut one last time before you entered the spare room. Once you walked in, you heard the door close. You turned around to see Lo’ak.. Still in the room.

“Oh, I-I can sleep by myself. I just needed your presence. Thank you, Lo’ak.” You spoke nervously, plopping down on the cot, feeling the fresh soft sheets in between your fingers.

“If you don’t mind, I just wanna stay until you fall asleep. You’d be more comfortable with me here anyway.” He smiled, leaning back against the wall, his head slightly tilted up.

He was nothing short of perfect, to say the least. And you’d be a fool to deny that. However, his girlfriend was literally in the next room. If she woke up and found you both in the room together, she wouldn’t be too happy.

“Oh Lo’ak, I don’t know. Won't she be mad?” You asked innocently, scooting back against the headboard and bringing your knees to your chest as he watched you intently. Such an innocent girl you were. And it made his head spin.

“She’ll be fine. I’m just worried about you right now. I wouldn’t want you having another bad dream, and I’m not here to console you.” He explained, a genuine tone in his voice. You nodded nervously, scanning the room once again.

He walked over to the bed, laying down flat for his own comfort. He looked up at you, arms out signaling for you to come closer. You stared at him for a few seconds, contemplating wether or not this was a good idea. He noticed, and chuckled

“Oh come on, I don’t bite.” He joked, using his hands in a 'come here' motion. You gulped, sliding down into his embrace. Your right ear finding refuge on his chest, listening to his clam heartbeat. You threw your arm over his torso, and snuggled closer to him.

He rubbed your arm gently, squeezing it firmly a few times. “Comfortable?” He asked, reaching his right hand down to grab the folds of your leg, bringing it on top of his groin. His strong hand began to caress the side of your thigh, and you could feel the slick forming in your loincloth. Your header began to beat rapidly, and now all you wanted to do was be under him. You didn’t want his hands to move. You wanted them all over you.

You nodded, too afraid to make a sound. With the way you were feeling, it might’ve came out way more erotic than usual. “Good. Get some sleep. I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.” He explained, planting a small kiss on the top of your head.

He began to get more comfortable, shifting his hips a bit before closing his eyes. However, that little movement revealed his true arousal. You could feel his clothed cock stiffen, second by second. You tried to ignore it, but once it started to rub against your inner thigh, you had to say something. You looked up in his embrace, seeing his eyes closed and his breathing gentle. He had fallen asleep already.

“Umm, Lo‘ak? Lo’aaaak?” You whispered tapping his chest. He shifted a little bit, but his eyes remained closed. “Hmm?” He hummed softly, turning his entire body to the side, bringing you closer than you’d ever been. Now, you could REALLY feel it pressed against your slippery cunt.

“Um, y-your, uhh-“ you stuttered, making his eyes blink open slowly. Once he came to his full senses, he located the problem immediately. Glancing down in between you both, seeing his loincloth practically bursting at the seams.

“Mmm. Shit, I-I’m sorry y/n.” He whispered, backing away from you alittle bit. He sat up, placing a pillow over his lap. You sat up as well, eyeing his fidgety demeanor in curiosity.

“It’ll go down in a minute, just… roll over and go to sleep, ok? I’m right here still.” He strained, throwing his head back against the wall. He’d never been this hard in his life. It was so stiff, that it hurt, badly. And it just didn’t seem like it was going to go down any soon, especially being next to you.

“You look like you’re in pain.” You stated the obvious, eyeing his tensed abs. You went to comfort him, fingertips just grazing his forearm before he grabbed your wrist.

“No, mama. Don’t touch me. Not now.” He chuckled, still visibly uncomfortable. He let your wrist go. And you immediately placed your hand ontop of the pillow.

“Can I help? Will your girlfriend be mad?” You ask, grabbing the plush of the pillow, sliding it off of his lap slowly. He was so sensitive that the friction alone almost made him release. A series of grunts leaving his mouth as he watched the pillow leave his lap.

“I wouldn’t wanna take that sweet innocence away from you.” He grunted, an uncomfortable chuckle following.

“Who said I was innocent?” You question, titling your head in confusion. His pupils widen, shifting his attention to you. His eyes trailed, your body slowly, jaw clearly tightened in restraint before looking at the door. He sighed, eye contact shifting back to you.

“Yeah? Think you can handle it? And keep that pretty mouth shut?” he asked, going to untie his loincloth strategically, knowing that you wanted him more than anything right now. You nodded slowly, waiting patiently for his cock to grace your presence. And when it did, you were speechless. His heavy cock hit his stomach, creating an obnoxious slap against the skin. It was huge, intricate veins running up his shaft, as the freckles danced under the dimly lit room.

His strong hand found the base, slowly stroking himself as he let out a few breathy moans at the contact. His hips would meet his thrusts ever so slightly, as he watched the precum leak out of the slit.

The site had you ready to pounce on him, take him as your own. Fuck his girlfriend, YOU wanted him now. He glanced up at you with hooded eyes, still pleasuring himself. He signaled you to come closer with one finger. You obliged, shuffling to sit in between his spread legs.

“Take it off.” He smiled, glancing down at your dripping loincloth. He kept a steady pace on himself, as he watched your next move. You sensually speak your legs over his, opening yourself up to him. You hooked your fingers under the strings and untied quickly, eyes his raging cock the entire time.

You swiftly slide the loincloth from under you, holding it up before letting it slip out of your delicate fingers. Your cunt was dripping onto the sheets beneath you. A faint squelching sound every time you moved slightly.

“Shit. I got you like that, huh?” He moaned, head finding refuge on the headrest as he eyes you lustfully. You let out a giggle before gathering a little spit on your fingers before rubbing your clit slowly. Your head immediately dipping back in pleasure with a low moan.

Lo’ak continued that painfully slow rhythm on his cock, trying his best to let you cum first now. He watch you though, and intense glare right to your core. He was aroused by the way you pleasured yourself. Two fingers rubbing the bundle of nerves before dipping down to your dripping hole, teasing it before repeating the same thing over and over again. It made his head spin.

He began to pick up the pace slightly, breathily groans escaping his mouth. He would tease the tip, rubbing his thumb over the slit to gather drips of precum, before jerking his entire length again. He was so damn close.

“Mmm, open yourself up for me.” He groaned, his hips bucking into his hand firmly. You knew exactly what he meant, trailing your fingers down to your hole again, pushing them inside slowly.

“Ohh fuck.” You whispered, setting a merciless rhythm on yourself from the start, desperate for a release at this point. Your fingers curled upward, hitting your sweet spot with every pump of your dainty fingers. You could feel it, building in your stomach as your abs flexed.

“Lo’ak?” You whimpered, legs trembling over his. He sent you an all-knowing grin. “What’s wrong, mama? Talk to me.” He moaned, nodding his head as reassurance. He was going hard now, so hard that you could hear the heavy slaps with each thrusts to his hand.

“I-I'm gonna cum.” You strained, immediately covering your mouth to hold in the loud moan that was seconds away from escaping. “Hell yeah you are, baby. Be quiet for me though, ok?” He moaned, his face screwing in pleasure from his in coming orgasm.

You nodded, eyes rolling back before you came undone. Your cries being muffled by your hand. Yet and still, you kept the same rhythm, over stimulating yourself so much that you fell back, hips bucking uncontrollably as you squirmed.

“Fuuuuck, baby. Make that pussy squirt for me, please.” He whimpered, watching your fingers exit your body, a waterfall coming behind it. You tapped your cunt quickly, squealing as another waterfall sprayed out of you, all over lo’aks cock.

“Yes, yes oh shiiit. I’m right there, fuck.” He hiccuped, biting his bottom lip as ropes and ropes of cum squirted out and onto his flexed abs. He let out a sigh of relief, releasing his cock, watching it thumb with every heartbeat.

“Mmm I n-need more, mama. Come here.” He groaned, pulling you up by your arm forcefully. You were fucked out, but ready for more with a delirious grin.

You lazily crawl over him, your knees caging his thighs in. You hovered over him, the tip just probing at your entrance. He held the base of his cock steady, guiding himself into you slowly. Your mouths both fell agape, silent cries leaving as you looked into eachothers eyes.

One final push and he was all the way in, thrusting his hips up once with a low groan. He was deep, really deep. So deep that his tip was probing at your cervix. But that didn’t matter to him, atleast. He wrapped his strong hands around your tiny torso, bouncing you on his hard shaft.

“Eywa, that’s it! Fuuuuck that’s it.” He moaned, his head falling back against the headrest as his eyes screwed shut. Pathetic sounds leaving his mouth as he fucked you harder.

A deep breath leaves your throat, squeezing your eyes shut as Lo'ak fucks into you. "Oh my..." You gasped, but it came out as more of a moan. He continues to thrust his hips up, plowing into your cunt as your juices mix. Your cream and his precum made such nasty noises together. "Fuck, Lo'ak! You're fucking me so good! Don't stoppp!" You whine, now meeting his pace.

"I know it feels good. But- fuck! You gotta stay quiet mama," he whimpers, struggling to keep at his motion. You notice and lean down to his neck, peppering wet kisses on his collarbone as grind back on his cock. "Shiiit..." He completely lets you take over, breath becomes heavy as he hold your waist. You nibble on his neck, kitten licking the start of his nape as you hum. "Stop, nggh.. she's gonna see these, y/n. Don't get me in trouble." Lo'ak huffs, attempting to resist your advances, but each attempt is useless. You decide to ignore him, bouncing harder to shut him up. He's holding back each wave of pleasure you give him.

"Mmm, am I better than her? Tell me daddy, do I fuck you better?" You mewl with desperation in your voice, lifting yourself up to hold down on his chest, pushing a sinful, deep moan out of his throat. "What?" Lo'ak asks, breath catching in his throat. He's close, and you can tell. Might as well have some fun with it. "You're gonna cum inside me." You demand with a moan, shifting your hips from either side, making sure he's deep inside. "I can't do that, mama. You know this- f-fuck!" He growled, fighting his urge to creampie you.

You look down at him, shaking your head and flashing a fake frown. "But you want to," you shove down on his chest. "..you need to." You felt him pulsating around your spongey walls. His balls ready to burst and fill you to the brim. "C'mon daddy, please cum inside me. Please..." You whine in a way he can't resist. He's biting down on his lips hard, fangs almost drawing blood. Lo'ak knows he shouldn't. He knows it wrong, but he's already made it this far. "Shit, come here." He grunts, using your wait to push your body back down onto him. Lo'ak retracts his hips, just to push himself all the way back inside.

A staggered moan extracts from your throat as he sets a merciless rhythm. The kind of rhythm that left your mouth agape as silent screams fell from it. The kind of rhythm that had tears falling down your flushed cheeks. The kind of rhythm that had you trying to lift off of him forcefully. However, with no luck, he bring your hips back down, fucking into you like his life depended on it.

“No, No, No mama. Stop running.” He moaned, grabbing your wrists in one of his large hands, locking them there while he fucked you senseless. “Lo’ak, pleassssee!��� You raised your voice slightly, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Come on. You’ve gotta keep that pretty voice down. Want me to get in trouble?” He asked, voice rippling from very hard thrust. "Uh uh! N-No!" You moan and pant, tears forming in your eyes from the pleasure. "I'm c-close.." You whimpered as he continues to hump into your pussy. With the sounds your bodies were making, it's a miracle his girlfriend was still asleep.

"Fuckk! I'm gonna cum. Want me to fill this tight pussy?" He groans, and you mewl and nod in response. Lo'ak gives you one hard, deep, thrust. "Huh?? Couldn't hear you. Use your words, mama." You whine, feeling that familiar feeling in your lower parts get closer and closer. "Yes I do, Lo'ak! Please, please fill me up daddy!" You hum in his ear, making him go fucking crazy. "I-I'm cumming now! Cum inside me Lo'ak! Cum inside!" You both let out a deep, desperate moan in unison. Your squirt, and his seed mixing together inside of you.

You're panting, and so is he. Completely out of breath as he forces eye contact with you. You pulled into him, leaving one last kiss on his jawline. Lo'ak lifts his body up, removing himself from you with a light squelch and a deep end grunt. "I don't think you'll have anymore nightmares, mama. Just stay with me from now on."

Taglist: @number1gal @loak-bae @tiredmamaissy @neytirishottie @terrorthewolf @lethargicluv @reyzzsostellar @m0nst3rfk3r @agelsully @jakescumdump @wekiamo @st-cass @cleardonutangelwagon @tsireqas @satanlovedays @afro-hispwriter @urfavgirlmakenna @fanboyluvr @iameatingmyhair @secretflowerobservation @violet-19999 @xreadersstuff @sweetllamaparadise @lia-nath @sullymenrhot @dotheyevenknowmars @xdbluesky @slay-nt @domino-x3-blog @ladylovegood-69 @itssomeonereading @sweetirilly @skxawngmia @j-jinxee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @cumikering @pxndorasdream @itsaleidasworld @atxxokirina (💜) @yeletta @eywascall @valeriearriana37484 @avatarsslut @bee782916 @atxxokirina @taylormarieee @sweethoneycn

[tiredofthehumanlife]

You know I'm something of an alt person myself

Barbie dolls: rosekiller x male! Alt! reader

Word: 1.1k

Summary: youre a pain in the ass to your two boyfriends during class

Warnings: my grammarly crashed and fucked like half the fic so it was grammar checked by a people, you're a little pain in the behind, very small amount of he him pronouns for r, it's not specific on what type of alt you are but Barty lightly bullies you, a couple of sex jokes but this is rosekiller so what were you expecting, Evan is kinda herding you and Barty in the right direction, you use Evs and Evie (ev-e) as Nick names for Evan so idk you like them or could just be trying to annoy them thats up to you, bad out of date joke that doesn't match the seventies, suck my big fat cock you absolute dweeb boofuckinghoo, mention of knives

Request: dude seriously I'm being serious stop snooping in my shit you are such a disrespectful roommate

History of Magic was so incredibly boring. Maybe it was something about the weird cold and yet hot temperature that made you feel like you should just roll over and fall asleep. Maybe it was the monotone teacher making your eyes droop. Maybe it was the frequent reading assignments that could not have more words.

Instead of pretending to pay attention, you decided to bother your two boyfriends. Unfortunately for them, they were sitting on either side of you so neither one of them was safe. You started by simply repeating Evan’s name over and over. He eventually stopped responding to you, keeping his eyes on the blackboard. You decided you had to take it up a notch, drawing cartoon penises in the margins of his work. Evan did not appreciate that. He took your pencil away, before stealing your eraser to scrub away your drawings.

You turned away from Evan to the other side. Barty was your next target. He had his arms crossed over his desk, head plopped on top. His face was hidden in his cave of nap-itude. You leaned closer to him, poking his arm over and over again.

“Babe.” you whispered, making sure the teacher couldn’t hear you even if he wanted to. Barty hummed in response.

“Babe.”

“Hm?” You kept poking his arm.

“Babe.”

“Yes?”

“Baby.”

“Yes, my love.”

”Babe.”

“What?”

“Baby.”

“What do you want, dickhead?” Barty lifted his head, shaking it to throw his hair back. You shrugged.

“Who’s hotter; Me or Evs?” You asked. Barty pouted and dropped his head back down.

"You know I can't choose, my dick stands for the both of you.” He muttered, turning his head away from you. You sighed, turning towards Evan instead.

“Evie?” Evan glanced at you from the corner of his eye.

“Are you going to ask me who I think is hotter; you or Barty?” Evan whispered, scribbling down a few notes. You scoffed.

“No.” You were. “How could you think so little of me?” Evan hummed, not giving you the time of day to entertain your ridiculousness. You tried to sneak away your pencil from Evan, earning a slap on the hand. Your hand shot back, deciding to leave it in your lap instead.

“So, my lovely Evan, what’s new with you? How are the kids? Such and Such, please entertain me?” You waved your hand in a circular motion. Evan shrugged, still silent.

“Evs, baby come on. You can’t possibly care about this class that much.” You said, poking Evan’s notebook. Evan sighed and looked up from his notes. He dropped his pencil onto his desk, before turning towards you. He reached towards your lap, taking both your hands into his.

“Please, baby. We have barely ten minutes before this class is over. Then I will entertain you to the fullest, I’ll do a full ballet routine if it means you stop drawing dicks on things. Okay?” Evan said, staring into your eyes. You sighed, rolled your eyes, and puckered your lips out in acceptance. Evan dropped one of your hands, cupping your cheek instead. He gave you a light peck before turning back to his work.

You spent the last few minutes of class annoying Barty. By the time class was dismissed, you were shooting out of your seat. Barty slowly followed after you, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Evan was the last to the door, packing up all his notebooks and pens. When he finally started moving toward you, you skittered out into the hallway. Barty waited for Evan, reaching his hand out for him when Evan got closer. Evan watched you jump up onto the stone bench. Evan's fingers intertwined with Barty’s.

“Don’t! It'll hurt!” Evan yelled after you. Your head snapped around. You waved him off, jumping from the edge of the stone bench. You might have underestimated the drop. Now that you were on the ground you were sure, that it most definitely hurt your leg. You grimaced, pretending like it didn’t hurt so Evan didn’t try to tell you he was right.

“Told you ” Evan whispered, though you still heard it. You grimaced, glancing back at him. You waited by the bench. They finally caught up with you. Barty swung his arm around Evan’s shoulders. You walked next to Evan, even though it was terribly slow at their dragging pace.

As you moved through the courtyard, you spotted a flower a few steps over. You gasped and lunged for it. You were pulled back by a magical force. You glanced behind yourself to see Evan dragging you away by your studded belt. You sighed, staying by his side again. Evan hooked his finger into your belt loop, keeping you close.

Barty slumped onto the common room couch and collapsed into Evan's lap. He didn’t get much sleep last night, he was a tad busy helping Regulus with his homework. You settled in front of the coffee table, accio-ing a stack of cards to keep yourself busy. Evan whispered your name, making you look up. He patted the seat on the couch next to him. You dropped the cards and plopped yourself into the seat next to him. He leaned towards you and kissed your temple.

“Thanks for giving me the last ten minutes of class.” He muttered, pulling you closer by slipping his arm between you and the couch.

“That class is just too boring.” You whispered, trying not to wake Barty in Evan's lap. Evan hummed.

“And yet you decided to pester Barty and not me, which I am grateful for.” You grumbled, not really wanting to say your welcome for not annoying Evan on purpose.

“Blah blah blah, that's what you sound like.” You retorted, ignoring Evan's repeated kisses on your face.

“I love you, my little pain in the ass.” Evan muttered to you, making you push his face away with your palm. Barty sat up and glared at you two.

“It is terribly hard to sleep when you two punks won't shut the fuck up.” Barty said, crossing his arms over his chest. Evan sucked his teeth. You glared back at Barty.

“You're one to talk about punks, Barty.” You pointed at him, pretending to start an argument. Even before you started dating, pretend verbal fights were a favorite pastime between you two.

“Yeah, okay. Mister ‘cut my life into pieces, this is my last resort’.” ; Barty said, holding a hand up to his face in dramatics. You frowned and clasped your hands together. Barty looked up when you didn't retort and pouted.

“No more knives as gifts for you.” You muttered and leaned back into Evan. Evan threw his arm over your shoulders, immediately welcoming you into his side. Barty groaned and flung himself across both of your’s laps. His head landed on your lap.

“I'm sorry, will you take me back? Pretty please, I didn't mean it.” Barty said, batting his lashes up at you. You hummed, scratching his scalp in response. Barty sinks into you, dropping his arm off the side of the couch.

He fell asleep not long after. You and Evan talked about your days in a quiet tone, actually trying not to wake up Barty this time., Eventually Dorcas walked through the common room and fake gagged at the pda on her way to her dorm.

[galactic-rhea]

The thing with Anakin TCW is that I try to reconcille both "versions" of Anakin, but because I keep in mind that at the end of the day, TCW is a serialized kids show, and he's also a general and in charge of a padawan so he must be really charismatic for that to work (long rambling ahead)

This show came in an era where shows ran long, with very random plots per episode and just very few that advanced "a plot", so characters that are new for the show get more development (since they were at zero), and Anakin with already three movies (technically 6 if we count the original trilogy), a mini series, and a bunch of books and comics, feels more flat for the very short narrative purposes.

The way i see it, TCW can be like seeing Anakin from someone's else eyes, like that's probably how Obi-Wan and Ahsoka and Rex saw him, cocky and sassy and fearless and daring and untouchable and cool and sometimes with anger coming from apparently nowhere, and the movies are the actual "omnipresent" look, we see how actually deeply fucked up and scared Anakin is!

TCW gives like a very pink tinted glasses view of him, a very standarized version of him, since the "otherness" that he has in the prequels was really hated (and with otherness i mean that he acts alienated and tormented, is because of the trauma, but also because he can be so easily read as neurodivergent and/or queer; movie Anakin looks like he might as well be a giant walking target for bullying, so to speak), so TCW Anakin looks like he totally would have never ever been bullied, he's the cool kid.

If I don't constantly keep on mind this is probably Ahsoka's POV, it can be a bit hard to connect, like the last episodes in TCW, when he sees Ahsoka, he's like 2 days before ROTS, and he looks so cheerful and normal and sassy, but then if you look at ROTS, he looks so tired and beaten up and just depressed after that battle. But Anakin, in AOTC and ROTS, in general, is a person that looks like doesn't even want to be there at all, he looks like he would rather turn invisible.

I don't have that many problems with Anakin in TCW except for certain arcs (looking at you clovis), because many things in the show do add to Anakin's narrative and character (or more like, pilling up even more trauma onto him for the big moment), but it's not a complete look because by the point we should see how he's dealing or coping with something the episode ends and the next episode is about something different. TCW is plot focused and there are very little "breathing" moments before the action, and is not very character focused. Which leaves the audience with the task of remembering that whatever happened in the show is another piece of the puzzle that may or may not fit perfectly with the character that was presented on the prequels.

"This episode very painfully reminds you that he was a slave, and he's angry about it, very angry...for one bit of the episode, let's go back to the fun action." It touches it, but it doesn't explore it, if you get what I mean? Like, we can only imagine if he had difficult weeks after that or how even was the conversation after all that whole mess, just as an example.

I agree that Anakin in TCW is a incomplete version of his character, because TCW focuses a lot on the Clones and Ahsoka and other little stories, however I also think it does add lots of stuff to explore, even if the show didn't explore it deeply, but touched on it.

And I understand too why it causes such a division, and why some may prefer the TCW version more, and why some may prefer only the movies version.

I mainly use the movies, and then take from TCW what I feel like it fits/makes sense for him, and shake TCW a little bit if i need to, although i still really love it : D