#and tbh probably half of it is actually just. oh I need him. I want him. I love him.

[running-in-the-dark]

I want to be someone who has smart and interesting things to say about shows/movies that I like - like when I tried to convince my friends that they really need to watch Leverage. that would have been useful! instead I'm just like 'it's sooo good I like it so much I love all the characters they're all so awesome 🥰'

my thoughts are generally just like.

ooh he soo prettyyy. I want to braid his hair. hehe he punched someone. look at his lil face 🥰 baby boi. pretty smile his mouth is so nice I like his teeth. chest hair. hands! arms arms arms 🤤 his eyes are so pretty. oooh blood on his face, blood on his face! he's growling. annd his voice is all raspy again. I wonder [many many redacted thoughts]. ooh now he's in danger oh noo 😏

there's a bunch of 'she's so pretty' and 'I love her' somewhere in between all that too but mostly it's just. very, very stupid

[britneyshakespeare]

i am like. unreasonably mad right now.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

night sucker, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: You and your hot-sexy-maybe-an-idiot-but-definitely-horny-and-always-perfect boyfriend Jeon Jungkook had mutually agreed not to fuck in the middle of the night. And... Well. You're still gonna fuck in the middle of the night. What?! It just happened! He slipped and his dick fell in your mouth! (It's the weekend, it's okay! :D)

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; established relationship; playful banter and shitty jokes; you were asleep (not really) until his dick fell in your mouth (nice!); crack and fluff; smut (fem reader, m and f-receiving oral, fingering, m-masturbation, face sitting); squabbling tbh; non-idol!BTS - short black-haired!JK with his two lip rings; the parenthesis are the reader’s inner thoughts

crackhead best laid plans / counter point / well dressed / cursed hours couple no need to read the others, but they’re there if you want more

--

You woke up to your boyfriend’s hard dick sliding into your open lips.

Fuck yeah!

(Do we sense a kink developing? Mayhap.)

Most people would be a little surprised, annoyed perhaps, but thankfully you were pretty used to the unhinged horny behavior of Jeon Jungkook (encouraging it, even, oop). You weren’t completely in the dark (well, you were – er, never mind) about it, because you had felt the very suspicious bowing of the bed by your right shoulder, plus you could smell him (mmmm, that vanilla almond body wash still lingered), and you had sucked his cock many, many, many times before. Oh. Right. Should have led with that.

Point was, your mouth was well acquainted with his dick.

(You’d have matching friendship rings but Jungkook would complain too much, keke.)

Delicately, you turned your head a bit and molded your tongue around the shaft, feeling the head twitch in your throat as his hips began to carefully thrust. Jungkook must have known that you were awake and not sleep-sucking his dick, but he wasn’t making any obvious noises.

(The aforementioned kink alive and well, folks!)

You heard him shudder and felt his fingertips skim over your cheek and clavicle. Probably to check the distance. His right leg must have been hovering over your body (you appreciated him not kneeing you in the boob, thank you, very kind), with his left knee by your right shoulder. You started curling your tongue back and forth as he moved, keeping your head still, and Jungkook gasped (a little too loud, pfft), being slightly rougher about it as your throat closed in around his twitching cock. He was mumbling something (useless prayers, your name, fuck me, the usual), and you still hadn’t moved your limbs yet, keeping the illusion alive. All activity in the depths of your mouth, squeezing, swirling your tongue around, letting him pause and edge himself with your lips rubbing the bottom of the swollen head, before shoving himself back in with a whining hiss, surprisingly not too deep, giving a whole new meaning to the term night sucker.

(Insert eyebrow wiggle here.)

His breathing was deepening, taking himself to the edge again, probably enjoying his full control of the pace as he filled your mouth over and over again, slow, deep, almost lazy, reaching his full girth and hardness.

This was when you let him know you were actually awake.

Because you grabbed his ass and jammed his cock all the way to the base, his balls smacking into your chin.

“Gah!”

You heard his palms smack into the headboard (or wall?) and, without giving him a moment to react, you extended the tip of your tongue past your lips to lick his balls, raising the back of your tongue to cup his cock and press It repeatedly against the back of your warm, tight throat.

“Woah, h-hey!”

You tipped your head back and took him deeper. Circled around his balls, leaving them wet, slippery, and tingling. His gruff, half-asleep moan drifted up to the ceiling, mixed with an exasperated whimper.

“I was… I was s-supposed to be catching you off guard… Now you’re just showing off!”

(He’s not wrong.)

You lifted your torso a bit, twisting, and rubbed your breasts against his thigh, sending sparks all throughout your torso. (Mmmm.) He was all tensed up and hard (heh) from maintaining his position above you. You knew he could feel your hard nipples because you heard the snack of his fist against the wall and his defeated groan, his head falling forward.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

Jungkook was hot – er, ahem, ran hot. While being trapped between his (very sexy) legs was (very super) arousing, the summertime night heat was being exacerbated by his (very hot) body (you get the point), so you lowered back down to your pillow, kneading his incredible ass (won’t start again but, man, did you love his obsession with working out), nudging him to start moving again.

Thus, you comfortably enjoyed him face-fucking you, providing plenty of tongue action in your own right, his balls smacking against your chin with each thrust, with your spit sticky on your skin.

(Didn’t think that though, huh. Oh well.)

He kept a steady but intense pace. Since he led the movement, you could focus every muscle in your mouth – loose and soft around the length, lips tight, tongue roughly stimulating all his favorite spots, just under the head and along the underside, your saliva providing that frictionless slip, and then you felt his body shift.

His hand was moving.

A startled yelp stifled by his cock vibrated in your throat as his fingers slid down your stomach. His gasps hiked in pitch, and you curved your hips towards his touch, folding one of your legs to raise your lower body, and then his searching fingers grazed over your slick, dripping pussy, bringing the fire.

(And setting the night alight, iykyk.)

The human body could do a lot of creative things in the name of horny. Awkward body positions could be made comfortable by depraved adrenaline, and that was exactly what was happening right now, since there was no way in hell you were going to complain about Jungkook burying two fingers into you and sloppily rubbing your throbbing clit with his thumb. Not that you could say anything at all with him relentlessly thrusting his full-mast dick into your mouth (mhm, you just gushed down there, oh yeah, you felt that), rapidly building up his orgasm, deeply, slowly cutting off your air.

You could hold your breath a little longer.

(You could, in the name of lewd!)

And you were losing yourself in the pleasure, his fingers pumping in and out, fast and powerful, the wet slaps obscene, rocking your hips to his hand, tilting your head back as you sensed his body tensing up, his sounds ceasing into mute ecstasy and then.

“F-Fuck, yeeeeeees!”

He exploded (like… dynamite!), filling the back of your mouth with way too much cum (damn, his internal factories been working overtime), thick and heady and intense. Delicious. He stopped moving, soaking in the bliss, and you didn’t have a moment to swallow because you were too preoccupied hitting your own high, arching your spine, your eyes rolling back, your spasming pussy sucking in his fingers, sweat sticking to the top of your chest.

On instinct, you swallowed.

Too fast. Jungkook whined, pleading and desperate. Evidently, he seemed to figure out that you couldn’t control it since he didn’t react violently, only hitting the wall again (rest in disturbance, neighbors), screaming behind closed lips. You drew back a little, ghosting your tongue over the head, gently, and he moaned, drawn-out and wanton, clutching the headboard like a lifesaver as he was drowning in heavenly euphoria.

Wait.

His fingers were still stuffed into your pussy.

That meant he hit the wall with his forehead.

(Bro, you good?)

You couldn’t ask, but you patted his thigh to get his attention. After a moment of slow thrusting, you felt him try to move away (you sucked a little harder and Jungkook yelped at the oversensitivity,), and so you let go, only to be slapped in the face with his wet, half-hard cock.

“Ow.”

“Serves you right,” Jungkook shot back, sounding utterly drained. He still hadn’t moved his fingers from inside you. “How’d you wake up so fast?”

(‘Cause you’re not subtle, my lovely dummy.) “Mmmm, guess my mouth knows what to do when you put your dick in it.”

“Sus.”

He was stroking your wet pussy.

“What are you doing?”

“Touching your pussy, duh.”

You shifted your eyes and saw the fingers of his free hand wrapping around his hard cock. “Um.”

“What?”

“Nothin’, I was just thinkin’, ya know, I’m not very involved here.”

You were mocking his Busan accent and Jungkook growled, shoving another finger into you to express his irritation (wink wink). You didn’t react much except for grinning and spreading your thighs open more.

“Aren’t you sleepy? I’m thinking about your feelings.”

You were trying not to laugh at his poor attempt to be somewhat deadpan. Pretty difficult considering he was jacking himself off while fingering you. You clenched around his fingers and Jungkook hissed, whispering under his breath, again, and you did it again, fuck, feels so fucking good when you do that, ugh, and the fake spat was forgotten. Your hips rising, your hands fanning over your breasts, toying with your hard nipples, for you to melt and for him to watch, hotter, your chest tightening, biting your lip hard, the sting of pain deliberately delaying your rapidly building orgasm.

“Open your mouth, quick–”

You slid down and he shot thick, warm streams onto your tongue. Gasping and shuddering, those big eyes staring down at the amount (quite a lot, damn, proud of him) and you kept your cum-covered tongue extended, right up until you came onto his three fingers stretching you out, leaning your head back to let his orgasm hit the back of your throat as the first intense waves overcame you, strong flinches resonating up to your chest and head, swallowing and clamping your thighs shut around his muscular forearm.

A suspended, elated moment as you came down, gradually relaxing.

“Hah… fuck… uh…?”

Your tongue lazily snaked out and covered the tip of his softening cock, licking it off.

“Mmmm… ah, yeah…”

“How long you been planning that?” you asked without opening your eyes, squeezing his arm.

“I didn’t plan it.”

You could believe that. Jungkook didn’t plan shit. “Hmmmm…!”

“I swear!” He sounded like he was pouting. “I just happened to wake up really horny.”

This was not news. However, you continued to play dumb. “In the middle of the night?”

“Uh, yeah?”

“HMMMM!”

“What?! You’re naked!”

(Wait a second. Hold your oxen.) Your eyes snapped open. “Where are my panties?”

“Eh, I dunno.”

“Jungkook! You can’t just hide my panties whenever you want!”

(Yes, he can.)

“Uh, yeah, I can…!”

(Sigh.)

Your boyfriend’s teasing voice was sing-song and freaking annoying.

You shot up, and Jungkook was laughing, his short hair stuck up every which way (his bedhead was somethin’ fierce, so cute), backing up, and you saw your underwear on his nightstand, prompting a brief but rather titillating naked wrestling match. You lunged over him and Jungkook grabbed your waist, dragging you back with a prissy nuh uh, and you squirmed and twisted (probably turning him on, yup, you heard him moan a little just now), pawing for your panties. Somehow you hooked a leg over his shoulder, streaking a smear of your still-wet pussy over his built chest, and you attempted to sit on him. Repeatedly. Jungkook wasn’t making it very easy.

“Ow, damn, I worked out my chest today, come on!”

(If you insist.)

You stuck your tongue out to the biggest peepers glaring at you from below.

Then you got a great idea.

Brillant, really.

You sat on Jungkook’s face.

His big eyes shot open even wider and you had a moment of pre-nut clarity, since (um) your legs were a bit askew and you were half-crouching over him like a gremlin (not the hottest look), but in less than a second, Jungkook had his hands on your ass and lifted you up, planting your trembling pussy firmly onto his hungry mouth, shoving his tongue inside you. You gasped, clutching fistfuls of the sheets for some sense of stability. Meanwhile, your man was in a different dimension, groaning loudly under you and making your insides vibrate with his sound, jarring for a moment before you forgot whatever it was that had surprised you, oooh, damn, you couldn’t remember for the life of you what the heck you were worried about, too busy grinding onto his nose like a mate in heat.

(Ah… well, let’s not go there for today. Uh.)

Your panties were within reach, but you didn’t care, throwing your head back and moaning as you felt his tongue glide all over, rubbing against your clit, sucking on it noisily, more for effect than for pleasure, making you laugh, and then you melted into his hands, rocking your hips forward.

The palms of his hands pushed against your abdomen, and you realized his (big) nose was having trouble breathing (serves you right!), but after a moment of resisting on purpose, you leaned back, snickering at the gush of hot air washing over your crotch, his low moan trapped in his chest. He pinned your thighs in place, and you flexed them, feeling the power in his hands, shivering in delight at the sensations of his closed lips and swirling tongue, precise and careful and better than you remembered it. You pressed your hips into his mouth and he got the hint, putting more strength into it, there, ah, fuck, yes, Jungkook, clenching your core to hold yourself up.

Hey, you worked out too! (Okay, yes, it’s a stretch but we gotta take the small wins where we can.) Your ass was going to get sweaty at this rate (see!) due to how warm Jungkook was getting (oh…), but you sacrificed for the greater good (cumming on his face), consumed by the harsh rhythm of his tongue, closing your eyes, blanketed in lust-drunk darkness, your muscles tensing, clenching your jaw.

“Mmmm, yes, Jungkook, yes…!”

Strangely you could only now really feel the press of his two lip rings in the dip of your thigh, but perhaps that was because you were forcefully gripping his head and pressing your throbbing pussy into his mouth, moaning, your torso flinching strongly, throwing yourself forward with a gasp, another wave of your orgasm shooting up from between your legs, spreading all over your shaking chest and through your arms. Aaaaaaah. The high wound down, dissipating all over. Your limbs were giving the consistency of fruit jelly.

Delicious.

Actually.

You could use some bingsoo right now, to be honest.

Fuck, it was hot.

You let out an exhilarated exhale, lifting your hips (someone was smacking your thigh, how odd), and Jungkook gulped lungfuls of air, groaning, running his tongue up and down between your legs as you reached over and snatched up your underwear.

Truth was…

You had indeed been jostled awake to Jungkook fumbling around with your panties earlier. Even lifted your hips to help him out. You had known damn well what was coming. Ten minutes of him laying down next to you, his hand over your pussy, calmly caressing the outer lips. Allegedly, he innocently liked to touch your bits because your pussy was pretty. He just wanted to hold it before he went to sleep. Uh huh. Yeah, okay. Even if that was true (it was, how sweet), inevitably, his lizard brain would overcome him (and that it did) and you would soon end up in a compromising position (in this case, his dick in your mouth, mhm, talk about a midsummer night’s dream). If you hadn’t wanted it, you would have stopped him, but (not gonna lie) his dick was a very tasty midnight snack.

It was the weekend, so might as well give into the voices.

(He was probably getting you back for all the times you shook him awake at three in the morning to ride his hard dick, as he should. We’re all unhinged in this house.)

You got off him and Jungkook complained immediately, only to be shut up by you throwing the hand towel on your nightstand at him.

“You’re sweaty!”

“Whose fault is that?!”

“Yours, you horndog!”

“I didn’t tell you to sit on my face!”

“Oh, like your big peepers weren’t BEGGING for it!”

“Well, SOR-REEEE that I think my future wife is hot, what a CRIME!”

He was following (chasing) you to the bathroom. You attempted to close the door in his face and he shoved his naked booty in there with you despite your protests of needing to pee.

“So what! I’m looking!”

“You’re such a creep,” you accused (fondly).

You sat down on the toilet and did your business with Jungkook pointedly staring at you and you pointedly staring back. He was wiping down his shoulders. In the bathroom light, you could see his black hair was slightly damp from sweat. His forehead was glistening, droplets beaded on his skin. His pecs were indeed looking especially delectable today. You stared harder. He twitched and did the same, his big brown eyes making him look extra psycho. He raised the towel just a bit, and you jumped for the toilet paper.

“EY!”

You smacked his tattooed forearm. “Wipe your face!”

“This is the best part!”

“You’re gross,” you snapped, somewhat annoyed but also too used to it (this was the definition of being too comfortable with each other), finishing up neatly and quickly, flushing with a glare before getting up to wash your hands. “What weirdo stands there when a girl is going to the bathroom?”

He looked extremely offended and pouty. “Um, your future husband?”

“My future husband is a creep,” you chirped annoyingly, rinsing off your hands and drying them off.

“As I should be,” Jungkook shot back. “How else will you know I love you?!”

“By being, I dunno, nice and wholesome?”

“I am wholesome! That’s why you put up with me!”

You flapped your hands in mock exasperation.

“What would you do without me?”

Jungkook clasped a hand over his chest, all hilarious dramatics, putting on a solemn expression.

“Be full of cum and empty of heart.”

He placed the back of his hand over his forehead, pretending to sob. You fell into him in roaring laughter, wrapping your arms around him. He immediately showered you with kisses amidst giggles, the towel around his shoulders, flicking his sweat on you (freaking annoying), and you couldn’t ask for a better man. Jungkook could propose to you with a goddamn tempura onion ring and you’d say yes. You were only complaining to complain. It was fun to bicker knowing full well neither of you meant it.

That was how you knew this love was true and perfect.

(See, look at us, a wholesome lovey-dovey couple!)

You both had to spend several minutes standing in the apartment naked, enjoying the air-conditioning, wondering out loud if your neighbors heard anything, asking each other if, hm, maybe a house should be in the works at some point? The living room couldn’t always be Jungkook’s personal gym (yes, it could, he liked to work out while watching television and you weren’t gonna stop him). Anyway, you two might need space, later, just in case.

“You know you’ll have to control yourself if we end up having kids.”

Jungkook made a face of mock disgust. “They’ll have to know how they were made eventually.”

You facepalmed.

(We’ll have to work on it. Future you problem. Future you was a sucker. For Jeon Jungkook. Gross.)

--

masterpost

[mustangbby]

GIRL DAD OR BOY DAD? - sunday, boothill x reader

- or more clearly, to what gender would they want to have more, and general headcannons of them as papas ☺️

- brainrot brainrot brainrot BRAINROT AHHH... i love these guys and i can do a part 2 for others later but godd theres absolutely not enough dad stuff for these men (especially sunday... if there is its all yandere) so never fear novas here! ahem anyways enjoy

- warnings none! pure fluff!!! wc 711

Sunday is so a girl and boy dad.

Reason why I say this is because he likely needs an heir to take over his position when he gets too old to do so, but he also wants a baby girl he can spoil as well.

Don’t worry! He loves both of his kids the same! They’re the greatest things that have probably ever happened to him and he cherishes them with his whole life. He thanks the stars above every single day for the opportunity he received to be a father to multiple beautiful children, and thanks you for granting him the chance. 

Dunno, but I could see this man wanting a handful of kids. He wants at least one girl and at least one boy, but I could see him shooting for 3-4. Will he be around to care for them? Not all the time, but he tries his hardest (and he definitely has the resources to care for that many).

Considering they’re half halovian and half human, they look pretty much just like their father! Some have your eyes, but they all have his hair. His hair and his gorgeous wings. They have your features though, such as your face, body type, etc.

His favorite part of the day is when he gets to collapse on your shared bed, his kiddos following behind him to cuddle their dad, and most of the time you all fall asleep together. Normally, you wake up just you and him because he’s good about putting them in their own bed once they fall asleep.

Once his kids get older, he’ll teach his son(s) combat and good form. He wants them to protect, and wants to raise them to be strong and independent. With his daughter(s), if they ask to be taught combat, then he won’t see much of an issue with it. He also wants to teach them independence, but in a more subtle form. 

Just expect that his children as teenagers are going to be the prettiest kids around holy shit. They’re obviously enrolled in a private school due to their fathers high status but they always come home and list the compliments they’ve received that day. Thankfully you two have raised them well enough for them to realize that it’ll be bad if all of these get to their head and stroke their ego too hard…

Supportive father asf! All I’ve gotta say here

Don’t play Boothill is SO a girl dad hello have you met the man

He’s so excited when his little girl is born ahh he’s always dreamed of being a father to a girl and his dream has officially come true!!

Obviously, if you had a boy, he’d love him the same. He just wants children of his own tbh lol

His daughter knows western culture fresh out of the womb my friend. It’s like she was born for little cowboy boots and the cutest little cowboy hat. She’s even got a western name, he brought it up and you liked it, so the name you two settled on was Cassidy.

She has his hair! It’s absolutely gorgeous once it starts coming in- a pearly white color with little black streaks stemming from the roots. She has your eyes and your face, and his slimmer body type (before he was turned into a cyborg. This isn’t canon I actually have no clue what he looked like pre cyborgification lmao).

Oh lord, your daughter is so spoiled. On every mission he goes on he’s always bringing something back for her. It could be a super fancy necklace or even just a little trinket he picked up from a street vendor, but she has a whole shelf full of the things her daddy gives her.

She thinks it’s so cool he has a metal body. She asks about it alot but she’s really fascinated with it tbh. She likes to call it “daddy’s special feature!” and he always melts to that sentence gosh

He probably teaches his daughter how to use a gun when she gets older. He, similar to Sunday, wants his daughter to learn self defense tactics and learn how to fend for herself when necessary.

She totally has his accent. Change my mind period.

[floorpancakes]

when I have time I need to read slash watch some more clamp shows

[star-girl69]

Better Than Revenge

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: more jealous clarisse and this time she gets to be insane about it (I Can See You coded tbh)

a/n: soft clarisse MOVE OVER insane clarisse hiiiiiii ….anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

Better Then Revenge - Taylor Swift

warnings: possessive clarisse pleek i want you i need you, violence, swearing, punching lol, men, allusions to sex and this is just pretty suggestive, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

The anniversary of Mr. D being sentenced to a life at Camp Half Blood has become his birthday over the years.

Of course, his children use that as an excuse to throw a rowdy party disguised as a simple bonfire.

Chiron turns a blind eye, as long as everyone swears to not give him any alcohol, and there’s still a modicum of responsibility among the camp population.

It’s one of the highlights of the summer, the heat from the fire, the dark night lit only by Selene, where it feels like you can do anything and get away with it.

It’s your first with Clarisse, and by the way she’s looking at you right now, you’re probably not gonna last more than an hour before you get dragged somewhere to make out. Which is not what you want.

You’re already in your outfit, the jean shorts you know she likes, the low-cut top you know she likes, leaning over in front of the mirror as you do your lipstick.

“Do you have something you want to say?”

Clarisse usually sits with you as you get ready for something, since you shamelessly take longer than her. She always calls you her prettiest girl, then expects you not to live up to it?

She doesn’t rush you. She’s never impatient. She just likes watching you, and it’s fun to put on a show.

She always looks at you, but something about the look in her eyes tonight is especially… feral.

“What’d you mean?” she says, smirking and leaning back on her elbows.

The Aphrodite cabin is a particular swirl of activity, but your little corner is just you and her. She refused to wear anything but her camp t-shirt and a pair of jeans, of course, but she looks good in anything.

“You’re looking at me like you want to pounce.”

“Took you this long to pick up on that?”

You laugh, bending over to grab a jewelry box that lives at the foot of your floor length mirror.

“Baby, let’s just stay back,” she groans.

“This is our first time going together, though. I want to go.”

“And I want to kiss you until we both pass out.”

“Oh, how romantic,” you whisper, holding earrings up to your ear. The dangly pearls look best. Some sort of dangerous thought slithers into your mind, and you turn around to face her with a slow smile.

“Oh, Gods. What?”

“If you can go an entire hour without kissing me…”

She looks up at you like you’ve just called her the worst warrior at camp.

“Then we’ll leave as soon as the hours up, and do whatever you want. But if you can’t, then we get to stay until I say so.”

She smirks. The only thing she loves more than you is competition, a challenge. You watch her eyes light up.

“I can do an hour.”

“Oh, really?”

“I have amazing self-control, actually.”

“Oh, really?” you repeat, drawing out the word.

“Really,” she says, rolling her eyes and mocking you.

She’s sitting on the edge of your bed, leaning back on her palms now, watching you as you step forward.

“Really,” she says again.

But her smile fades as you place your hands on her shoulders, her hands coming to your waist as you place yourself right down on her lap. She lies down and let’s you straddle her, tracing her lips with your pointer finger.

It’s so startlingly silent and tense, she can hear your breath, you can hear hers.

You squeeze her face in your hands. “Well, time to go!” you announce, climbing off of her.

“You’re a demon,” she hisses. “A witch.”

“I’m a daughter of Aphrodite,” you roll your eyes. “I prefer to be called a seductress.”

—-

The party is already buzzing when you get there, night just falling and the fire blazing high.

You wave to a few of your friends, dragging Clarisse by the hand as you lead her to the best group of chairs and benches, not too close and not too far from the fire. All of the camp counselors and the people around your age are there, drinking punch and talking amongst themselves.

You greet your half sister and head counselor of the Aphrodite cabin, Phoebe, with a kiss and a hug.

“You look so pretty, Y/N,” she smiles. “I love the pearls.”

“Thank you,” you gush. You look up to Phoebe more than you would like to admit. One day you hope to take her position, and it wouldn’t hurt to make a good impression now. “You look gorgeous.”

Clarisse’s hand falls from yours and she pushes you forward to the empty seat next to Phoebe.

You look behind you. She gives you a look that says “Are you dumb? Talk to her.”

You’re always so close to Clarisse, but she goes and sits nexts to a few of her siblings on top of a picnic table 5 feet away.

You hum and start talking to Phoebe about a few of the new arrivals about camp- you both agree one of the new boys is a son of Aphrodite, before Phoebe looks past you and cringes.

“One of the other new kids is staring at you.”

You risk a small glance.

There’s nothing special about him. Pale skin, brown hair and brown eyes. He’s not your type, to say the least, especially when you steal a look at Clarisse and find she’s already looking at you-

You stomach flips.

She taps her wrist as if there was a watch there.

“Almost halfway,” she mouths, smiling brightly.

You look pointedly back at Phoebe.

“He’s eh,” you shrug.

“If he doesn’t stop staring at us I’m gonna go insane.”

“Is he really staring?” you ask.

“Yeah. I think he thinks he’s flirting, or something? I don’t know.”

You shrug. He probably knows you’re dating Clarisse, and if he doesn’t, he probably will soon.

She bumps your shoulder.

“Any updates with Clarisse?”

You smile, playing with your fingers.

“No, not really. We’re still happy. Actually, we’re having a contest right now. If she can resist kiss me for an hour, then we’ll leave. But if she can’t, then we get to stay at the party all night.”

“Ooh, that’s evil,” she teases.

“I know, I’m having so much fun.”

You both laugh, and Phoebe opens her mouth just to close it. She fakes dropping something to lean closer to you.

“He’s coming over here.”

“Oh, Gods,” you mutter.

“Hey, ladies,” he says. His voice is deep and scratchy, like he just smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. “How y’all doin’ tonight? Enjoying the party?”

You have to stifle a laugh. Phoebe was one of the cabin leaders who helped organize the party.

“Havin’ fun,” you smile awkwardly. He stares so intensely into your eyes you have to breathe out not to laugh.

“Good, good. Either of you know where the punch station is?”

“Oh, yeah, sure, it’s right by the Apollo cabin,” Phoebe points.

He follows her finger. “Great, thanks.”

He looks at you and winks. “See you around.”

Both you and Phoebe dissolve into a fit of giggles.

—-

You make your way over to Clarisse after a second, sitting down next to her on the table. You hug your knees to your chest from where they sit on the actual bench.

“‘M cold,” you moan, rubbing your knees.

Her siblings, Carrie and Nelson are now distracted by Phoebe’s animated talking, leaving the two of you.

She wraps her arm around your shoulder, letting you lean against her.

“You wore those shorts,” she says.

“For you.”

“Oh, you’re so mean.”

“Before the challenge. And I think you mean ‘thanks for trying to make me happy, Y/N.’”

Clarisse laughs.

“Okay, pretty thing,” she mutters. “That’s what I meant.”

“Right,” you mutter, pushing yourself further against her. It’s better here, closer to the fire, but there’s still this chill in your bones.

“Stop being so close to me,” Clar mutters.

You turn to her.

“What did you just say to me?”

“It’s almost irresistible to kiss you,” she whispers. “I’m not allowed to kiss your forehead, am I?”

You put your face into her warm neck.

“Is that kissing me?” you whisper, your lips brushing her skin.

“Shut up,” she mumbles, pushing you away from her. “You’re not distracting me. I’m not losing this. One hour, then we’re going back to my cabin and staying there for a long time.”

You smile, lifting your face up from her neck to stare in her eyes. She smiles softly back at you.

“Did you see me turn around and bend over to fix my shoes?”

Her eyes blaze.

“Should have guessed that was on purpose. What’d you call yourself? A seductress? I agree.”

You smile, wrapping your arms around yourself, deciding you’ll be nice and give her a few minutes reprieve. Ares kids are always so warm, and even just being pressed slightly against her is nice.

Someone places a jacket over your shoulders. You smile, turning to Clarisse, not remembering if she had a jacket on. Did she bring one for you?

“Clar, I-”

She’s not looking at you at all. She’s staring off towards the fire, holding your hand, and you know she didn’t just give you this jacket.

Harry walks around the table, smiling.

“Looks better on you then it did me,” he says, awkwardly. “You looked cold, so…” he laughs.

Clarisse finally realizes that he’s talking to the two of you, or well, you.

“Huh?” she says, giving him a bored look. Immediately slipping back into her mean girl persona, even though she was just blushing with your face in her neck five seconds ago.

She looks at you at the corner of her eye.

You’re sitting there, frozen with his jacket over your shoulders.

“Uh…” you say, stupidly, because your mind is literally empty. What are you even supposed to do in this situation?

Clarisse grabs at the black jacket.

“She looked cold,” he says.

She finally realizes what happened.

“So, you’re hitting on my girlfriend? Right next to me?”

His smile falls. “Y-your friend, yeah-”

She rips the jacket off of you and throws it at him.

“Girlfriend,” she hisses.

“It’s not my fault,” he says, scrambling to catch his jacket, getting defensive now. He knows he fucked up, his pride is hurt. “You weren’t even touching, and she was, like, shivering-”

She stands up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

“Hey, hey, Clarisse,” her sister Carrie says. “What’s going on?”

Clarisse glares at him. He starts sputtering incoherently.

Carrie raises an eyebrow towards you.

“He gave me his jacket,” you mumble, still feeling a little dazed. “Clar, c’mon, let him go.”

Carrie takes a step back. “Oh, ‘kay. I don’t care if she beats him up then,” she laughs.

“It looked like they were friends!” Harry shouts, pushing Clarisse back.

She punches him in the face.

“Clarisse!” you yell, jumping down from the table. “Don’t you dare!” you grab her arm, she’s fuming, rearing to punch him again.

A crowd has formed around you.

Harry groans and holds his bleeding nose.

“You fucking bitch,” he mutters.

“Clarisse. Clarisse, please, let’s go. Let’s just go.”

“You weren’t even that hot anyway,” he hisses.

“Don’t fucking talk about her!” she yells, jumping forward to punch him again-

“Clarisse!” you shout, not wanting her to get in trouble but you’re a second too late. Her fist flies into his cheek, but he’s prepared this time, so he takes it and counters with his own punch.

Your heart squeezes, but she blocks it, and both of their respective siblings finally jump in to hold them back.

“Oh, Gods,” you mumble, staring at his blood on the ground. At least it’s not hers. “Carrie!” you shout, giving her a pleasing look, and she nods.

“C’mon, Clarisse,” she says. “You’re very strong and tough, stop beating up the twig whose got no chance.”

It takes three of her siblings to corner her against the picnic bench.

“Giving her your fucking jacket, I should kill you!” she shouts, thrashing against her siblings hold. “She’s mine, dumbass, we’re always around each other, did you not notice?!”

“Clarisse- stop!” Carrie grunts, putting everything she has into holding her back.

“Go fuck yourself,” he groans, finally having enough common sense to cup his nose and walk away, the groups of people parting for him.

You stand there, shocked. Phoebe comes next to you.

“Oh, I love this night,” she sighs. You shoot her an unimpressed look.

After he’s gone, her siblings let a fighting Clarisse out of their holds, and she scans the crowd, but Harry really has disappeared. Her eyes find yours immediately.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, marching towards you and immediately pressing her lips against yours.

Pride is her fatal flaw. And when her ego is wounded, especially when it comes to you, she feels an inherent need to try and get it back.

She can’t beat up Harry, but showing everyone you’re hers is what you guessed she would do next.

She grabs you by the neck, the other arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you two closer together. You’re touching everywhere, kissing her is like touching her electric spear, and she finally pulls away slowly.

She can’t say that she loves you, so she just kisses your temple instead, wrapping her arm back around your shoulder.

As much as you hate violence, that was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

—-

Clarisse drags you off to her cabin.

“Oh, fuck,” she mumbles, opening the door.

“What?” you whisper, squeezing her hand.

“The contest. We should have stayed-”

You snort. “Who gives a fuck about the contest? I’ve been swayed. Let’s go make out.”

She seems a little shocked, extremely excited, and starts ushering you towards the ladder of the loft.

“Well, who am I to deny you,” she says, holding your ass as you ascend.

“Also, stop punching people.”

“That’s where I deny you.”

You make it to the top, her hands on your waist as she follows you. She’s always touching you, like she’s addicted to you. You pretend, but you’re so in love with her you genuinely think you’re gonna fall over just thinking about her sometimes.

“Clarisse, seriously. You’re gonna get in trouble one day, and-”

She spins you around and throws you back on your bed. You yelp as she climbs on top of you.

“No. Kiss now, lecture later.”

You protest, but she shuts you up by smashing her lips into yours. It’s rough, you did tease her all night, all teeth and the sounds of your roaring heartbeats.

She starts kissing down your neck, your dig your hands into your curls.

“‘She’s mine’?” you say after a second, referencing her anger-haze of a rant.

“Yes,” she says. Softly, but not sheepishly. She says it confident and proud. “You are.”

“I am,” you mutter back, having a feeling she’s gonna leave hickey’s all over you.

You do your best to flip her over, but she’s all muscle and it’s hard, so she ends up grabbing your hips and helping you.

“What?” she gasps, confused at the change of position. Not that she’s complaining, though.

“You did lose the challenge,” you tease.

She doesn’t like to admit she lost.

You hover your lips right above hers.

“Say it.”

Her fingers dig into your hips.

“I lost,” she grits. “You won.”

“I did,” you mumble, lips grazing yours, but you’re getting bored and you want to kiss her just as bad.

And you do, your hands on her face, her fingers starting to slip under your shirt. She mumbles against your lips.

“Fuck, this is so much better than revenge.”

—-

(i’m actually the funniest person alive if you couldn’t tell)

—-

clarisse: oh, so you think i cant take care of my girlfriend? because we’re not close enough? because you think she’s cold? well guess what. now i’m never letting her out of my sight again, fuckfaces

y/n: FUCK YES i mean noooooooo noooooo that’s horrible omggg

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme

@jazhandzzz @urbisexualfriend

[imagoofygoober]

Dave Lizewski being a REALLY clingy sleeper. Like he physically smothers you in his sleep, all cute and disheveled, groaning when you move.

tbh I didn't think anyone would actually request something but I'm literally so happy someone did.So thank you!!! And I totally agree! Like- when you try to get up because you need to pee or something and he just squeezes you tighter and grumbles something incoherent- I need help,I am so down bad for this man.

P.S - sorry if it's bad,this is my first fic. :')

Dave Lizewski x reader

Prompt: fluff

Warnings: None.

Summary: After a long night of patrolling,all Dave wanted to do was to take off this suit,take a warm shower and curl up under the blankets with his amazing partner; you.

Dave huffs softly as he trudges along the New York City streets,his body tired and heavy feeling.He swore if he even sat down somewhere he'd probably fall asleep- Hell,he could probably fall asleep while he was still walking.But as he keeps going,he spots a familiar white mailbox with hand-painted flowers on it,and he immediately smiles.

He walks a bit faster now,though it was still a bit sluggish.After a moment he makes it to the side of your house where your bedroom window is.He gently knocks on the glass,his lips curled into a smile as he watches your head turn towards the window and your lips curve as well.

You look up from your homework from today at the sound of tapping against your bedroom window.You smile as you see the familiar green wet-suit paired with that adorable smile you love oh so much.You stand from your desk and make your way over to the window,opening the curtains wider before sliding the window open and moving out of the way so he can climb through.

"Hey,Davey." You say as he crawls through your window.You shut the window after he's in,making sure that the curtains are closed completely to keep Kick-Ass's true identity a secret,before turning to him.

"Hey,baby." He says as he takes off his mask and sits it on top of your dresser before opening a drawer,digging through it.

"I'm gonna go take a shower,okay?" He says,looking at you as he moves over to the bathroom door in your room,placing his hand on the doorknob.He watches you nod before heading into the bathroom.

You smile more as you sit on your bed,watching as he rummages through your clothes to find something big enough to fit him the way he likes.After a minute or so,he grabs a pair of your sweatpants and one of your t-shirts.Well,it was his shirt that you had stolen the last time you were at his house.Not that he cared though.

_

After a while,he emerges from the bathroom,freshly clean and smelling of your body wash.He frowns a bit when he sees you sitting at your desk again and walks over to you.He leans down and wraps his arms around you,burying his face into your neck.

"I'm tired.." he says,his voice slightly muffled from your skin.

"Go to sleep then." you say as you continue to write stuff down on your paper,leaning into him a bit.

He shakes his head slightly before lifting his head so his nose nudges against your cheek,his eyes half-lidded.

"I want you to go to sleep with me though.." he says with a slight pout.

"I have to finish my homework." You say,your eyes still on the paper but the feeling of him against you,holding you,is starting to get distracting.

"Please?" he pleads softly as he looks at you with those big blue puppy dog eyes.

And with that,your a goner.Who could say no when he asked oh so nicely?

_

A few hours later,your eyes crack open,your mouth dry.You blink a few times,letting your eyes adjust to the darkness before looking down.Dave is still dead asleep and his limbs are wrapped around you like a koala,his face buried in your chest.

'Cute..' you thought with a small tired smile before trying to pull away from him to get up and get a glass of water,but he tightens his arms around you with a soft groan,grumbling something incoherently in his sleep as he nuzzles his face deeper into your chest.

You try a few more times,but each attempt has the same reaction from him.You try one last time,and this time he moves so he's practically laying on top of you,his face buried in your neck.

"No.." he mutters softly into your neck before relaxing on top of you,slipping back into his deep sleep.

You let out a soft groan as he lays on top of you,realizing that you aren't getting up anytime soon.You wrap your arms back around him and relax,going back to sleep with Daves weight pinning you to the bed.

[yuri-is-online]

Now I wanna know how Grim ranks the second years. Also I'm in pain from wisdom teeth removal

oh dear I have heard that really hurts, I hope you are ok!

The Great Grim's OFFICIAL Tier List: Take 2 (do not steal)

Riddle- 3/10. Grim likes Riddle a lot, but not in a "hench human should date him" sort of way. If Grim had the ability to understand dating beyond thinking it's cringe he would tell you he is concerned about how Riddle handles conflict and what that would mean for your relationship. He wants you to be with someone who will give you space to relax, and Rampaging Riddle isn't the best at that. Unfortunately, Grim isn't that articulate so he just says he thinks he's too short.

Ruggie- 6.5/10. Ruggie isn't someone Grim hates exactly? Sure you dating someone rich would be nice because then he could get better tuna, but the rich guys on this campus are kind of scary... the real problem with Ruggie is that he expects Grim to do his share of the work. And he isn't shy about how cute he thinks Grim's insistence that he is the one in charge, that stupid laugh will start haunting his dreams. At least the cooking is worth it.

Azul- 7/10. Grim knows he shouldn't trust Azul but he does sort of... look he likes what the sleazy Tako is selling alright? And once that sell starts turning towards a romantic relationship with you he will absolutely be a little shit trying to wing man for him with you. It's sort of pathetic watching how they interact, both of them are convinced they are outsmarting the other but really the only person who is winning here is you.

Jade- I am so happy for your ugly ass boyfriend/10. Grim would be very happy if Jade tripped and fell into a ditch somewhere. Unfortunately Jade is an eel so he would probably just swim out of it right back into your arms and fake cry about it. If he wasn't so scary he'd be a 0.

Floyd- 9/10. Grim and Floyd sort of get along? Or at least I think so, Floyd likes Grim and likes hanging out with him and Yuu. He's the most likely out of the octotrio to actually bribe Grim without some sort of trick or gimmick because he finds it funny to see just how many things the baby seal will eat. He misses a point because Grim doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of being perfect but that's ok, Floyd knows the truth c: (he's delulu)

Kalim- 9.5/10. Grim thinks Kalim is kind of stupid and keeps trying to feed him crackers, so he is a half point away from perfect but! Kalim has no problems spoiling Grim which is good enough for him. Most of the time, if he didn't have money Grim would have so many questions.

Jamil- 20/10. Jamil is cringey but he can cook. I think Grim probably would be happiest in the long run with the more "normal" guys and Jamil would probably end up being his favorite. He gets to eat good food, and while Jamil would still want him to work... work isn't something Jamil wants to govern his entire life so Grimmy would be very happy with Yuu's choice.

Silver- meh/10. I don't think Grim understands the appeal of someone like Silver tbh. If anything I think his blunt kuudere swagger scares the hoes, which includes Grim. Sure, Silver is pretty, but he also says some pretty fucking dumb things that make Grim wonder if he needs to be the smart one. Normally he'd love that but ah. He is starting to feel rather unqualified all of a sudden for some reason, are you sure you like this guy? What standard is he meeting exactly and can you maybe reconsider...

[simpjaes]

Have you done a size ranking for Enha’s dick sizes yet ?•_•

not on my blog but boiiiii have i discussed this at length with oomf. let's go ahead and change that tho.

note: i was gonna include pics but tbh i don't rly wanna do that now lmfao sorry. im gatekeeping!!!! you don't have to agree with the sizes im giving them btw, some dude's just have monster cock energy sorry.

★ heeseung:

long and thick. almost too big, sometimes actually too big. takes both hands to jerk him off, and the entire expanse of your throat to swallow him up. honestly, it's so big that you have no choice but to feel each pulse and twitch of it when he's inside of you. the stretch is painful regardless of the position he takes with you, and you're not sure if you could ever get wet enough to ease the sear of it. you don't understand, really, heeseung literally makes you feel like you're being split in half but goddamn does he make it feel amazing at the same time. there are some men out there who have huge cocks and assume that's all they need to pleasure a woman. but oh, oh no no no, heeseung is well aware that you gotta know how to use it too. and boy does he.

☆ jay:

maybe not the longest cock of the bunch but definitely the thickest. for every deep part of you he can't reach, he makes up for it with the way he slams his hips into you, forcing you to feel every thick inch of him. unlike heeseung, you may be able to jerk him off with one hand but it doesn't change the fact that you can't fully wrap your fingers around him, and fitting it into your mouth can be a bit difficult as well. thankfully, jay isn't too worried about teeth when he gets to see you attempt to swallow him up. in fact, the little drag of them scraping the top-side of his cock is something that makes him shiver. he thinks it's cute to see you try and take all of it, actually. never feeling insecure over the fact that while he's definitely not packing anything over 5 to 6 inches, the girth alone is enough to leave a pretty girl calling out his name, begging him to go harder, telling him how good it feels in them.

★sunghoon:

long long long, but not as thick. the reach he can manage is insane, to the point that he'd probably have an obsession with snapping pics of his cock laying between your legs and measuring how far inside of you he's about to put it. visual stimulation, n all that. you can feel him deeper than any one else could probably reach, slamming into your cervix to the point it actually hurts, to the point he could probably have you pregnant in one fuck if you guys wanted to go that route. like that cum wouldn't have to go far at all to reach its goal lmfao jerking him off is easier than anything else, but giving him head can be a bit of a conundrum for you. you can lick and suck all you want with your hand jerking the bottom half of his cock but he's always gonna prefer the feeling of your throat gagging around him instead. he's gonna fuck the whole thing down your throat and adore the way you sound struggling with it.

☆ jake:

a perfect, average, nice cock, for a perfect, not so average, nice man. fits like a puzzle piece and fills you up the perfect amount. enough for it to hurt if he wants it to, enough for him to offer nothing but pure pleasure otherwise. the good thing about jake and his cock is the fact that just about anything can and will get him off, not only because the ease of which it'll fit into you, but because you love every inch of it when he does it. and sure, he can make it feel longer, he can make it feel thicker, all with just a shift of his hips. fr, and he's always shifting them too, trying to reach parts of you he knows he can't. every blowjob is met with gags, of course, because he definitely can't control his hips. every hand job met with the perfect weight in your hand, and every fuck met with a feeling of fullness that renders you capable enough to feel every second of his love rather than having to wince through it and lose your train of thought during certain positions.

[sungbeam]

𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 — teaser

nonidol!ji changmin x f!reader

messing around with demonic rituals isn't exactly how you imagined getting bound to changmin's soul. (note to self: salt circles don't work when you draw the pentagram inside it...)

▷ genre, teaser warnings. f2l, technically a college au, demon au (it's different from night terrors i swear.), comedy (it's really not scary), suspense/mystery, low fantasy/supernatural elements, mentions of rituals and pentagrams

▷ estimated word count. 25-30k; teaser word count. 0.8k

▷ projected release date. thurs, oct 31st

a/n: i'm a little FKN TERRIFIED to post this tbh 😭

A change in expression flickered across Changmin's face. It was brief, almost instinctual. You swore it looked like mild irritation, but it was gone before you could be sure. “You should probably answer the door.”

“Answer the what?”

You nearly yelped at the sound of loud knocking at the apartment door. Confusion pummeled you first, then you were swearing. “Chan.” You forgot he was stopping by.

“I'll be right back,” you said, moving toward the bedroom door.

“It’s fine. I need to go looking for answers.” Changmin stopped you before you went out, and you couldn't suppress the violent shudder when the invisible line in your chest pulled taut. “And Yn? Don't do anything stupid.”

You made a face at him from over your shoulder. “I'm already soul-bound to you by accident. How much more stupid can this get?”

He threw his hand up in the air. “Just don't do anything Hyunjae or Shuhua would do. Actually, just don't tell any of them about what I just told you.”

Why not? You were about to ask when you heard Chan's voice at the door calling out to you. Another swear fell from your mouth and you rushed out into the hallway to rip the door off its hinges.

Chan startled as it opened, his eyes going wide like a deer's in the bright hallway lights. There was a loose blue hoodie hanging over his green dinosaur pajama pants. He had his phone in his hands along with a paper bag undoubtedly carrying the legendary banana muffins. “Oh, hi. Sorry, is someone here with you? I thought I heard another voice.”

You braced a hand around the doorframe. Don't tell anyone. “Ah,” you winced, the lie curling up your tongue, “I was just on a call with a friend and he wouldn't shut up. Sorry about the wait.”

“No, it's no worries,” he insisted with a classic, easygoing smile. It made the adrenaline in your veins calm somewhat. Chan had always been a good presence to be around. There was something perpetually warm about his persona that made you want to stay in his orbit. “Oh, right!” He handed you the bag. “These are all yours. Mingyu says to let him know how they taste this time around, as always.”

As you accepted the bag, your face lit up like a Hollywood billboard. “I can guarantee that they will taste as divine as always. Tell him thanks for me” —you glanced up sheepishly from the paper bag— “and also, thanks for stopping by. I wish I was home earlier so you didn't have to drive all the way back.”

You didn't realize your face had contorted into a grimace. If only you had come straight home instead of indulging your friends’ curiosity tonight. Then, you would have been here with the banana muffins and one less soul-bond to worry about; and you would have been none the wiser to the fact that one of your college friends was a demonic entity.

Hadn't Changmin mentioned that you were now emotionally and metaphysically bound? Did that mean he could feel your emotions?

The smile had long since slipped from your face, but now your hands grew cold. When you got your muffins just now, did he know—

“Yn?”

You perked up at the sound of your name. Chan's hand froze midair, then retracted back to his pocket. Concern shone on his face as stark as day.

“Are you okay? You look like you just forgot you have something due tonight,” he chuckled half-heartedly, but the sheen in his eyes told a different story.

“Oh.” You forced out a laugh. “I'm fine! Yeah, I was just reminded of something. Actually—uhm, I shouldn't hold you up for any longer. It's getting late.”

Chan stared at you for a moment longer, and for that seemingly infinitesimal second, you feared he could see the invisible knot tied to your ribcage. “Right,” he said suddenly while shaking his head. “You should get some sleep.”

Your hand reached for the doorknob. “Thanks for dropping by again.”

“Wait” —his palm pressed against the door to keep you from closing it— “are you sure you're okay?”

It was as if your guilt was written in plain words across your forehead: No! I just became magically handcuffed to one of my demonic friends! And I also sat in a pentagram salt circle less than two hours ago! Please help me!

You channeled all your energy into a convincing smile. “Yes, I promise I'm okay. Have a good night, Chan.”

It was enough. That easygoing beam graced your eyes once more and he took his hand back. “Okay,” he said, “good night.” He waved to you as he turned on the ball of his foot, and you waited until he turned the corner before closing the door.

Your entire body deflated as you let out a rather dramatic sigh. That sigh turned into a loud groan, which eventually escalated into a borderline scream.

Like a woman possessed (would possession have been a better outcome than this?), you slunk back into your bedroom with your treasures in your grasp. “Hey,” you muttered as you kicked the door closed, “I'm… back.”

The room was vacant. Not a trace of the blond demon could be found.

“Son of a gun.”

permanent taglist 1: @flwoie @vatterie @seomisaho @hqrana @ja4hyvn @outrologist @rikizm @luumiinaa @lotties-readings @tinkerbell460 @kaaimins @hyunjaespresent-deobi @otterly-fey @gluion @floatingpluto @winterchimez @ethereal-engene @gyulfriend @polarisjisung @jaehunnyy @shakalakaboomboo @loveliestfelix @bless-311 @zhaixiaowen @leaz-kpop-life @amourdsr @pxppxrminty @kqyutie @sseastar-main @kxthleen14 @fluorescentloves @mosviqu

[thepunkmuppet]

I have spent so much time thinking about the miss holloway musical WHICH THEY HAVE ALREADY WRITTEN and I need to spill my thoughts about it

there is no point or end to this it’s just a brain fart of all the thoughts I’ve been having so enjoy I guess lmfao

“backstory”. it will be about her backstory. was she an 80’s music star who sold her mortal life for fame in a deal that backfired on her?? or was she a woman with the gift about to be hanged by the hatchet men who saved herself by making that same deal?? HOW FAR BACK DOES THIS GO IS WHAT IM ASKING WE KNOW FUCK ALL ABOUT THIS WOMAN

if it’s the former, I would love to maybe have mariah as casey (the girl with the gift in the witchwood who asked for her autograph) be an actual character who holloway maybe tries to help. also kim singing 80’s songs fuck yeah

and if it’s the latter then,,, oh wow. some heavy musical numbers, a shitload of hatchetmen / church of the starry children lore, and maybe another form of the lords in black (maybe the creepy hooded figures that we see drawn in the black book???)

also sorry EDIT I just looked at this picture again and the middle one (probably wiggly) is holding a knife. there’s no fucking way that’s not the black blade this is absolutely miss holloway guys omggggg

I would love to see this scene on stage with kim!!!! this would make 5 different forms of the LIB that we’ve seen / heard about (dolls, teens / humans, their true forms, wiggly in made in america, and whatever this is). I’m just imagining you see these black hooded figures, and then in the pro-shot you get a good look inside their hoods… and their faces are NOT human. like just imagine a massive purple eye staring out of one of those hoods, maybe even moving and blinking, a cool animatronic thing. SO CREEPY!! I also love the idea of switching up the actors again - I love jon so much as wiggly and I don’t think they would change him bc of his voice, but with the rest of them I think any actor can play a LIB which opens up so many possibilities…

I also would love to know how miss holloway met duke, and potentially even how many times they have met and then he had to forget her. considering the fact that we now have weird lore about his dad in 2005, did she know duke when he was younger?? did she help him out when he was a teenager, or help his dad?? is it a family thing, like she’s vowed to watch over the keane family or something??

duke’s dad is a big part of this tbh, because what a random insane lore / backstory drop, like WHAT? I genuinely have no idea what douglas keane sr’s murder could be about, except that it ties in to duke and to wilbur. and shows that 2005 is SO DAMN IMPORTANT

2005 was the year hannah was born, the year the portal to the black and white was created, the year wilbur cross went insane and became a disciple of the LIB, the year miss holloway took on the mantle of “miss holloway”, and (very likely) the year miss holloway and wilbur fought. so i think it’s safe to say that the musical itself will be set in 2005, which to me means macnamara and wilbur backstory alongside holloway and duke, which is very very fun

I like the idea that wilbur and macnamara were canonically together, and I really want to see pre-LIB wilbur. I also love the idea of macnamara and holloway working together or even becoming friends - despite being set a decade and a half before nightmare time, it would feel like the culmination of the two hanging plot threads / overarching arcs to me. also the idea that it was holloway who introduced macnamara to the paranormal and therefore essentially set up PEIP and doomed wiley is some juicy stuff that I would LOVE to see, especially if either macnamara or wiley lived in hatchetfield as kids and miss holloway helped them, inspiring whichever one of them to set up PEIP

ok so leading off of that I have a clear vision of a potential final scene that is driving me insane, and that’s the main reason why I patched together this post.

the final scene is the fight between miss holloway and wilbur, the one that happens in every single timeline.

and the basic idea is that we see both fights at once. there’s a song, and the stage is like black friday and spies are forever, with a level above the stage the actors can walk up to and stand on. joey and kim sing, and do their bit on the stage, but above the stage there are either doubles or a projection, mirroring the choreography. only in the pro-shot version, they would splice in joey and kim playing both pairs, which I just think would turn out looking really awesome despite being tricky to pull off live.

and yeah basically at the exact same time, one wilbur stabs holloway, and the other holloway stabs wilbur, creating a gorgeous visual representation of the newly splintered timelines.

either that or they do a trail to oregon and just do a different ending each night, and then splice them together in the pro-shot like I was saying. but I personally prefer the first one, if they’re able to pull it off and make it look good

and duke shows up just after that, having followed miss holloway throughout the story so far. and in the universe where wilbur’s dead, miss holloway makes him forget it all, hence this being the year that she takes on the new name and the fact that we know he has forgotten about her / her true past before. and then in the universe where holloway is dead, he holds her as she dies in his arms. bonus points if we get dying holloway saying “please don’t forget me” and living holloway saying “you have to forget me”. oh and just to be cruel, both dukes saying “I could never forget you” at the same time :) stew on that for a bit. yeah. fuck you I guess lol I woke up and chose violence today apparently

the idea of the two of them finding each other again after that in some timelines is just gorgeous to me, especially given the fact that NMT3 seems to suggest them finding each other AGAIN after she needs to make him forget. truly star crossed lovers they are so insane for this

in summary I guess what I’m trying to say is I think it will include miss holloway’s full backstory and then be mostly set in 2005, and centre around the opening of the black and white portal (macnamara and wilbur), miss holloway meeting duke (wilbur murdering duke’s dad, possibly something with lex and hannah if duke was already a social worker) and eventually the big fight between holloway and wilbur, ending in the audience seeing both potential endings. also obviously a reference to hannah’s birth because that seemed to be some kind of catalyst. thank you for coming to my utterly deranged ted talk goodbye

[magicalbats]

Day 14: Orgasm Denial

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 7925

Warnings: Afab!reader, (lots of) gendered language, social power dynamics, boss/employee, upperclass/lowerclass, tbh I’m not entirely sure how to tag some of this xmdkxkdnd, manual masturbation, dacryphilia, I wanted reader to be a bit of a bimbo in this one so if she seems stupid that’s why lol

A/N: sorry this one is late! I am officially behind on my prompts now but regardless of how long it takes I WILL be completing this Kinktober challenge! Unfortunately the real world demands attention sometimes but I’m not giving up 😤

⭐

Stamping down the urge to nervously fiddle with your hands, you clutch at the front of your arpon to keep them still and try very hard to focus on what the man in front of you is saying. The Palais Mermonia housed a great many regular faces, some of which you only saw from time to time and could not seem to commit to memory, and yet you’d been seeing mister Danon’s more and more often than anyone else’s recently. You didn’t understand why that would be though, and had at first written it off as mere coincidence. A simple matter of happenstance and nothing more. 

But then it kept happening at an ever increasing frequency until it seemed like you were running into him almost every day now. Only then had it occurred to you, in a far off, distant sort of way, that he must have been making a concerted effort to talk with you like this. That was the only reasonable explanation for it that you could glean, because the one person you saw at the Palais with any amount of real regularity was the honorable Iudex himself and certainly not the man who’s job description you could not seem to recall. But that didn’t exactly explain why. 

You wanted to understand what would make him seek you out like this, so you attentively listen to mister Danon when he speaks even though you sometimes find him a bit difficult to follow. He seemed like he was probably a good person and respectable enough, but he had a strange habit of jumping from topic to topic without much rhyme or reason that you could discern. One moment he would be talking to you about matters of work, about documents he needed to have signed or the latest gossip that had everyone all in a buzz, and the next … why, he would suddenly say something off hand about recreational activities to do in the city or places to dine, a book he’d read recently and even the types of food he fancied. 

It was all very strange, and listening to him talk does not help in the slightest. In fact, it actually seems to make it worse. 

You didn’t have the slightest idea why he would want to discuss upcoming stageplays with you nor why he should feel the need to announce that his favorite dish was aspic as if it was something that should be of great interest to you. It was all really quite strange. 

“You see, if you take a few fish when they’re still flopping around and fresh,” He tells you, eagerly gesturing his way through an explanation you hadn’t asked for. “That will guarantee their taste and ensure your aspic comes out just divine. Like something straight from the Gods themselves, if you want the honest truth of it. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything more sumptuous!” 

“A - ah,” You make a valid attempt to smile politely but it was difficult to keep up with him like this. What did you care for the precise steps to make such an unappetizing sounding dish? 

“You know, if you were interested, cherie … I could make it for you to try, if you would like. Ah, what I mean is — it might be nice if we can sit down together and chat over a meal at my residence. Just the two of us.”

Your brows slowly crawl straight up to your hairline. “Oh.” 

Before you can think to say anything else, an attention grabbing thud against the marble floor makes you spin around and a smile quickly overtakes your face. 

“Monsieur Neuvillette! It is a pleasure to see you today.”

The kindly man sends you a slow, vaguely bemused half-smile. “Good afternoon, mademoiselle. Mister Danon. You looked like you were having a rather lively conversation just now. I hope I didn't interrupt anything important?” 

“Of course not, monsieur. It was nothing important at all.” You beam up at him, eager and happy to hang on his every word no matter how benign or minuscule. Much to your surprise, though, he sends another unreadable look over your shoulder and when you turn back to Danon you’re more than a little surprised to find him slouched as if in defeat. Your eyebrows quickly make the climb up to your hairline again. “Mister Danon, are you alright? Goodness, you suddenly look quite unwell.” 

“Yes, everything is fine. Nothing to worry about.” He waves off your concern, but it doesn’t escape your notice that he makes a concerted effort not to look directly at you now and instead turns his attention towards monsieur Neuvillette. “Forgive me, your honor. I’m afraid I must be going now. My break is almost over and my presence will be sorely missed if I fail to show up on time.”

The stately Iudex inclines his chin in a brief nod of acknowledgment. “You needn’t apologize, mister Danon. On behalf of all of Fontaine, thank you for the hard work you do.” 

Giving monsieur Neuvillette a stiff bow, he turns to do the same to you. “Mademoiselle.” 

You quickly bob a perplexed curtsy back. “Monsieur?” 

Ignoring or perhaps not hearing the question in your voice, Danon pivots on his heel and makes a hasty retreat down the long corridor without so much as a backwards glance. You can’t seem to shake the feeling you’ve said or done something wrong though, and you watch him go with a tiny flutter of anxiety in your chest until another soft thud of monsieur Neuvillette’s cane on the marble floor pulls you around again. 

With a small frown in place, you tip your head back to look up at him when he comes to stand next to you. “Monsieur Neuvillette?” 

He offers you a small, gentle smile, no doubt meant to placate and soothe, though it does little in the way of good. “Please do not look so put out, mademoiselle. Would you like to accompany me to my office?” 

Nodding, you fall into step beside him. You find yourself listlessly fiddling with your hands now, unable to stop it when it felt like you'd made some horrible faux pas, and they anxiously flit over your front to smooth out invisible wrinkles. What a strange and confusing situation to end up in, and with no idea how to navigate it either. It seemed like you’d done the exact opposite of what you’d initially set out to do … you didn’t understand it in the slightest. 

“Forgive me for asking you such a strange question so suddenly, but … did I say something to offend mister Danon just now?” 

Noising a quiet sound of consideration, monsieur Neuvillette thinks on that for a brief moment. “I am certainly no expert on the topic, mademoiselle, but if I am not mistaken I do believe mister Danon harbors a romantic interest in you. I believe he may have felt slighted when you said what you were discussing was of no importance, and he took it as a sign of rejection.” 

You jerk to a sudden halt with an inelegant scuffle of your heels. “Romantic?” Eyes widening in mute horror, you feel your cheeks start to grow uncomfortably warm. That did make sense, you were more than just a little stunned to realize. The way he made the effort to find you wherever you were working, stop you and talk to you; the way he would casually sprinkle in bits and pieces of his personal life and subtly suggest food, diners, places to go and things to do … had he really been laying out suggestions this whole time hoping you would show an interest in him back? But — “But he never said … oh, monsieur Neuvillette, I had no idea!” 

He looks at you with a soft, sympathetic smile where he’d stopped half a pace in front of you. “It is alright if you didn’t know. Situations like these can be difficult to — parse sometimes, and I do not think you acted with malicious intent. Come, let us continue this over a cup of tea.” 

Embarrassed and roiling with a crushing sense of guilt, you slowly trail after the Iudex to his large, exquisitely furnished office where you quickly fall into your usual habit of preparing the chinaware while he situates himself on the ornate lounge. It is muscle memory alone that sees you through your task, motions practiced and subconscious after working at the Palais for so long, which comes as a great relief in that moment. You were far too preoccupied with this startling revelation to give the pouring of the tea much thought. Mister Danon’s intentions were shocking enough but, perhaps even more so, you’re surprised at your own lack of awareness on the matter. 

You felt rather bad now, for listening to him so attentively and humoring the conversations he was always keen to share with you. Had he mistaken it for budding affection on your part? Have you unknowingly encouraged him to keep trying or, somehow worse, made him believe you were merely toying with his feelings this whole time? What a terrible thing to do to another person, intentionally or not. 

Monsieur Neuvillette silently regards you when you bring the tea over on a silver tray but you can’t bring yourself to look at him while you set everything down on the low table in front of him. He was always nothing but kind to you despite your lower station of housekeeper, just as he was with all of the staff that kept the Palais functioning as it should. Everyone from the notarizers and the title clerks right down to even the janitors were treated with nothing but respect and dignity, and that very much included you. But you were a bit too ashamed, too guilty to meet his gaze right now, and you quickly shuffle back a polite distance once everything is laid out so you can further avoid his eyes. 

A stretch of quiet settles over the room, and you have to try very hard not to start fiddling with your uniform again. 

“Won’t you make yourself a cup and join me?” He ventures at last. 

“I couldn’t, monsieur Neuvillette. But thank you.” 

He seems to deliberate over something for a short beat before half turning his body on the lounge to look up at you. “I must apologize for prying like this but what about the situation with mister Danon has you so upset? If you didn’t know what his intentions were then you certainly cannot be held responsible for not acting accordingly.” 

You hesitate to discuss this matter with him, well aware that it was improper and impolite to talk over such things with not only the aristocracy but also the man who was effectively your employer. It felt very much like an unspoken boundary that should not, under any circumstances, be crossed but … when you take in monsieur Neuvillette’s imploring expression your resolve starts to crumble. He was a wise and exceptionally astute figurehead who always treated every case laid out before him no matter how small or insignificant with the utmost care and consideration. Perhaps he would have some insight to share with you, or at least some advice. 

“Well,” You finally relent, tipping your chin down to shyly regard your buckled shoes. “I’m aware that this might sound a little odd but I just feel so guilty about everything … I should have realized sooner why he kept seeking me out like he did. As silly as it is, I can’t help but feel like I tricked him somehow.” 

“That is a silly thing, isn’t it?” He agrees in a soft, endlessly patient tone. “How could you have tricked someone if you weren’t aware of what they wanted from you? In the unlikely event that a case such as this were presented to me, I wouldn’t even be able to rule in favor of misrepresentation on the defendant’s part. You have to act with knowing and intention to be held accountable for trickery.” 

You despondently mull that over for a long stretch. Logically, you knew what he was saying to be true and you, as everyone else in Fontaine, trusted his judgment implicitly. It wasn’t so much that you doubted him but, rather, your guilt was so great that it couldn’t accept this answer. The thought alone that you might have broken mister Danon’s heart after stringing him along for months almost brings tears to your eyes. 

“Does that mean you wouldn’t deign to punish me for it?” It’s barely more than a whisper. 

“No, not unconscionably. No one in their right mind would.” 

It feels like you're withering on the spot. You didn’t understand it yourself, why you were so upset to hear this rather than relieved at finding you hadn’t broken any laws or regulations that would hold you accountable. Even if mister Danon were to try to file a suit against you to mend some of his bruised ego it sounded like he wouldn’t even have a case to stand on — and that was good. 

So why did it feel as if you were skating by without making proper amends for the transgression?

“Mademoiselle?” 

You finally bring your head up to look at him. “Do you think mister Danon will forgive me if I apologize?” 

Monsieur Neuvillette’s expression softens, taking on a truly remorseful edge. “I don’t know, little one. He might. I can’t see into the future any more than you can, but I think if it’s something that bothers you so much then it certainly wouldn’t hurt to talk to him about it.” 

Blinking back a sudden deluge of tears, you take an impulsive step towards him with the tray clutched to your chest. “Oh, monsieur Neuvillette, I don’t know what to do! How can I possibly ameliorate my actions if he might not even accept my apology? I — I didn’t mean to lead him on!” 

Very neatly, calmly, monsieur Neuvillette folds his gloved hands on his lap and studies you for an indeterminable amount of time with that closed and shuttered expression. You aren’t sure how many minutes pass when you’re a right mess inside, all your emotions kicked up into such a veritable whirlwind that it’s all you can do just to hold it together. But, at length, he eventually draws a careful breath. 

“What I’m hearing is that your guilt over this matter will not be dissuaded until you feel appropriate action has been taken against you to right what is, in your mind, a very serious wrong, intentional or not. Is that correct?” 

You blink, more than a little surprised at how concisely he’s grasped your thoughts on the matter. It almost sounds foolish when he puts it like that, in such blunt terms, but there is no denying the pang that resonates within you. “Yes, monsieur. I feel terrible for what I’ve done …” 

He seems to hesitate, his brows drawing inward almost imperceptibly. “Guilt can function as its own form of punishment as well, and a very effective one at that. But you must understand something, mademoiselle. The law simply is not applicable here. There is no legal recourse and, therefore, no system in place to enforce any sort of repercussions against you.” 

You take another step closer, feeling fervent and hot. “Then will you punish me, monsieur Neuvillette?” 

Abruptly, he goes very still. “I am hardly in any position to mete out such discipline,” He says slowly, carefully. “And, far more importantly, I’m not quite sure what you would have me do. I don’t believe this situation would call for a monetary fine or even any corrective action on an employment level … and I’m certainly not going to spank you over my knee like a child.” 

Flustered heat crawls up your neck to settle in your cheeks. You hate the way your knees grow weak and knobby at the thought of that, but you were decidedly in agreement with him. It would have been inappropriate for him to strike you in any capacity, least of all over something like this. Still, though … 

“Isn’t there something to be done?” 

Monsieur Neuvillette’s expression settles back into that somber mask again, eyeing you for a drawn out beat before he finally issues a clipped sigh. Leaning back to recline against the lounge, he stiffly crosses his legs and once more settles his folded hands atop the bent knee. “Come here, little one. Stand next to me.” 

Your feet almost don’t want to move from the spot but you force them to uproot so you can cautiously shuffle forward. You aren’t sure what to expect when your cotton stuffed head was such a mess, but all he does when you come up beside him is hold out an expectant hand. It takes you a moment to realize what he wants and you flush even hotter as you pass him the tray. Taking it from you, he sedately sets it aside on the cushion before fixing his attention on you once again. 

“This is another topic in which I lack expertise but I might have something in mind that could satisfy your need for penance. However, I will not force or otherwise coerce you into it, and you will likewise be free to walk away at any time. Once you have decided you’ve made the appropriate dues for leading mister Danon on, as you put it, then this arrangement will end immediately. Is that agreeable to you?” 

You bob your head in a quick nod. “Yes, monsieur Neuvillette. Thank you.” 

Squaring his broad shoulders, the usually kindly disposition with which he carried himself outside of the courtroom fades and is replaced by the stern set of his mouth, the slight tension along his brow, to indicate that it is the Chief Justice sitting before you now. A chill runs up your spine at the change in him, so subtle yet unavoidably obvious, and a sharp look from pale lavender eyes stops you from saying anything. You’d never before been subjected to such a hard expression from him and you can’t quite stop yourself from sympathizing with whoever was unlucky enough to find themselves standing before him in court. It really wasn’t any wonder why he held the title of supreme judge in all of Fontaine when you saw him like this. 

“Do not thank me yet, mademoiselle. If you would be so kind, please lift your skirt for me.” 

Your spine stiffens with a tremor so powerful it very nearly bowls you over on the spot. Obediently, though, you reach down with numb hands to gather the full, flouncy material of your uniform and shyly hike it up along with the lace petticoat underneath. 

“Higher.” He commands, intently observing the slow ascension of your skirts. “That’s it, up around your waist. Good.” 

Sucking in a faltering breath, you sway unsteadily on your feet and try not to lose your nerve. The thought that you would be able to alleviate your guilt with this steels your resolve though, and your hands start to shake as your stockinged upper thighs are revealed to him, the simple garters holding them in place and, finally, your lace panties. Your face is on fire while you nudge everything up a little further to make sure it was satisfactory and to his liking despite still harboring some very real doubts about this in the back of your mind. 

He did say he wasn’t going to spank you … didn’t he? 

Casually, monsieur Neuvillette reaches out a hand to slip long, elegantly poised fingers into the space between your thighs and you suck in a sharp gasp when he nudges them up against your cunt just so. The touch is featherlight and barely there, but it makes more blood rush into your face to leave you rattled and a bit dizzy. But you don’t pull away from him as he takes his time petting over the apex of your fleshy mound and the slit running along your body, determined to see this through. Somehow having him touch you like this was not nearly as embarrassing as the way his expression doesn’t change while he does it, you’re quite ashamed to realize. 

“Are you sensitive here?” He asks you softly, prompting you to swallow. Hard. 

“I … I don’t know. I’m not sure.” 

Quietly clicking his tongue, monsieur Neuvillette presses up against you a little more firmly, gloved fingertips digging into your defenseless clit to make you jolt and give a startled yelp. “You seem responsive enough to me. I only know of this particular activity in theory but … well, it doesn’t really matter. I believe we should have no problem at all using this method for your penance.” 

“W - which is, monsieur?” 

“I believe I’ve heard the people call this ‘edging’ before. It sounds rather dreadful, doesn’t it? Like some sort of barbaric torture technique.” Carefully observing your face, he pushes up even harder to grind tight, mean little circles against that sensitive pleasure button, and your eyes grow big as you stiltedly rock forward on your toes. “I suppose it could still be called that, depending on who you asked. The instigator or the receptee. I’m sure they would have drastically different opinions on the matter.”

Whimpering, you numbly readjust your hold on your skirt to make sure it stays up and out of his way while he’s doing this. Not that you were entirely sure you liked this specific method in terms of punishments when it was so obvious your body was eagerly responding to it – from the way your pussy clenches around nothing and starts to slick for him and even to the way your nipples stiffen against the inside of your shirt – but perhaps that was a good thing. Would you have really been able to say your penance was paid in full if this trial were not appropriately challenging?

“Wh … where?” 

Blinking at the little mouse squeak noise, monsieur Neuvillette just keeps rubbing over you with that steady motion of his hand. “I beg your pardon?” 

Trying valiantly to keep the fluster off of your face and failing miserably at it, you shyly avert your gaze. “I was just curious … where did you hear of this?”

“A reasonable question.” He relents, allowing the smallest note of humor to color his voice. “While it is true I don’t often partake in such crude conversations, it can be a little hard to avoid at times. Even here, in the Palais Mermonia. I believe they refer to it as ‘water cooler talk’.”

“Oh.” You’d overhead such things before too, now that you thought of it. The other women who worked at the Palais were more prone to gossip, joint complaints about their husbands or beaus, fawning over babies and first days of school, and academic achievements, while the men … they would sometimes change topics when they saw you coming but more than once you’d caught snippets of inappropriate conversations. A recent visit they’d had to a brothel or perhaps how they fantasized about doing certain things to their partners. You always felt mildly scandalized whenever it would happen, shocked that such discussions were being entertained at the Palais, and yet — 

Letting out a slow, stuttering breath, you carefully glance down at yourself to look at monsieur Neuvillette’s hand disappearing between the soft pudge of your thighs. This was vastly more inappropriate than any ‘water cooler talk’ and that realization embarrasses you a great deal. Your cheeks feel a little hotter, your blood pumping harder, and you whine, very low in your throat. Was this really an acceptable form of punishment? 

You think it probably is, because the shame that comes with it is potent and cloying, especially when your hips give a weak judder at what he’s doing. To think that the Iudex himself was touching you like this … 

“Does that feel good, little one?” 

Twitching at the sound of his voice, you give a stilted nod. “Yes, monsieur, thank you … but — but I don’t think I quite understand. Are punishments supposed to feel good?” 

“Not necessarily, no. But this is only a part of it. Relax, sweet girl. I will ensure your guilt is appropriately mitigated in due time.” 

You still don’t truly understand it, but you allow yourself to ease into it anyway. Relax into his touch. Slipping your eyes closed, you just take a moment to feel the sensation of him rubbing over your cunt. The press of his firm fingers pudges your lips to highlight how soft and pliable they are, the blunt tips of his gloves sinking into the slit. Even the thin layer of your panties is not enough to lessen the drag in any meaningful way, and it doesn’t seem to take long at all for you to start feeling sticky with arousal. It’s copious and excessive, almost implausibly so considering that he’d only touched you in this one specific spot thus far. Hardly at all. 

You hadn’t thought you would be so easily excitable and yet the proof of it is in the way you tremble for him, the way your breathing gradually picks up to make your breasts heave under your blouse, and it quickly becomes difficult just to stay standing in place. You wanted to twist and pull away, give your drooling cunt even a moment's reprieve, but you don’t give in to the urge. That wasn’t what he’d agreed to, and you trusted his judgment … 

So you stand there, trembling, while your stiff nipples cut up into your shirt in search of the same friction, and you try not to cry out. Your pussy tingles against his hand, the pressure it exerts so constant and steady that it rapidly starts to feel like the building pressure in you is reaching critical mass. Much sooner than you could have anticipated or guessed, it was as if your body was particularly weak for monsieur Neuvillette’s dutiful attention. 

Softly wheezing when your legs buckle and threaten to give out, you subtly tip your pelvis further into his hand and it becomes that much more apparent how wet you really are. How stiff and engorged your clit had gotten. A violent shudder tears through you at the meaty, swollen drag of it under his fingers, head tipping back and. - - 

He retracts his hand so suddenly it leaves you lurching in place. Raggedly gasping at the sudden loss, you turn wide, wild eyes on monsieur Neuvillette but he merely gives you that same somber expression as he interlaces his fingers on top of his bent knee once again, unfalteringly casual about it. 

“That will be all for right now, mademoiselle. Thank you.” 

You just gape at him, stunned and confused, with your skirts still hiked up around your waist like a shameless fool. “Wh - wha —“ 

A look of sympathy flashes across monsieur Neuvillette’s face. “This is the penance you wanted so badly. As many times as you like, I will bring you close to orgasm but I will not let you actually reach climax. It is the only suitable punishment I could think of for your specific … transgression.” 

It takes a great deal of effort for you to do it, but you suck in a slow, shuddering breath to steady yourself. “I … I see. Thank you, monsieur. I understand now.” 

“Very good. Now, run along. I’m sure you’ve got work to do elsewhere.” 

He offers you a small smile that you think is meant to be reassuring but it does very little to distract from the throbbing ache in your cunt or calm your pounding heartbeat. Numbly, you drop your skirt and petticoat back into place and run your hands over it to smooth out the (now real, not imagined) wrinkles as you slowly make your way towards the door. It was like you were in a trance. 

“And mademoiselle?”

You pause, turning to look back at him. “Yes, monsieur?” 

“I would like to see you in my office again around noontime. Please do not forget and don’t be late.” 

~*~

It hadn’t taken you long to realize just how insidious and cruel this strange brand of punishment truly was. You left his office such a sticky mess between the legs that even trying to clean yourself in the powder room did little good against the slick oozing out of you to stain your panties and make them stick to you, moulding against your cunt. It serves as a near constant reminder of how close you’d been to climax, how monsieur Neuvillette’s fingers had felt touching such an intimate part of your body, and how torturous it had felt to have that friction taken away so suddenly. 

The wisdom of the Iudex impresses you even now though, for you did indeed see why he’d deemed this the only appropriate corrective measure that would fit the crime. You had unknowingly strung mister Danon along with your feminine charm and wiles, so it did indeed make sense to turn that back around on you in some way. 

And although it does take a while, the distracting pulse in your cunt slowly fades into an afterthought in the back of your mind while you flit about the Palais tending to various tasks and seeing that everything was as it should be. At some point you even start to forget how your damp panties cling to you and that makes it much easier to view this trial as an easy obstacle to overcome. You would simply allow monsieur Neuvillette to carry out this task a handful of times, consider your self flagellation completed and then move on with your life. 

Yes, this really was the best method of making your peace with the situation. 

Comforted in your conviction, you return to monsieur Neuvillette’s office at the appointed time and issue a gentle rap at the door. His voice filters through without missing a beat, calling for you to come in, and you enter without reservation. 

Perhaps you should have been more wary of underestimating him or this game you were playing but you think nothing of it as you make your way across the room to stand in front of his stately desk. He looks up at you with a brief smile that inexplicably makes your pulse thrum a little faster, and that surprises you slightly. Catches you off guard. 

“Thank you for your punctuality, little one. I have a meeting scheduled after lunch is over so I wanted to tend to you before I got too busy.” 

Self consciously, you avert your gaze. “Are you sure this is alright, monsieur? I don’t want you to go hungry because of me.” 

“Nonsense. I planned accordingly and already ate before you came by.” Not lingering on the thought for very long, he takes a moment to straighten a stack of papers and neatly set them aside, out of the way. Nudging his high backed chair out from under the desk, he half turns and situates himself first before reclining against the backrest and finally looking up at you again. “Come. No need to feel shy.” 

His words have the opposite effect of making you feel ten times more shy than you originally did, and you can feel yourself starting to blush again as you slowly round the desk to come up beside him. Standing just a scant few inches from him like this it occurs to you, suddenly, that you probably should have been a bit more apprehensive about returning to his chamber like this. He was going to touch you again … oh, perhaps you had not thought this through all the way.

“Here.” He says, drawing you back into the moment with a gentle pat against his leg. “Sit on my lap, little one. This should make things a bit easier for both of us.” 

The flush that crawls up your face is an intense and overwhelming one. “M - monsieur, I — I couldn’t possibly be so presumptuous!” 

“Is it presumptuous if I’m telling you to do it?” 

Your spine stiffens at the slightly hardened tone in his voice, the edge that seems to cut across any of your weak excuses, and you quickly realize it is once again the Chief Justice sitting before you now, not the kindly monsieur Neuvillette. And he was looking at you very expectantly. 

Swallowing your nerves, you reluctantly shuffle closer and turn to lower yourself onto his leg with a slow, stiff motion of your body. The firm pressure and warmth of him underneath you is almost enough to send you running from the room in hysterics, but before you can even think to change your mind his arm comes forward to secure itself around your middle. A surprised little yelp bursts out of you when he hauls you back against him to settle more firmly on his lap, completely disregarding how you tense up and shudder on top of him. 

“There. Isn’t that much better?” He softly coos at you, tugging you back to lean against his front. Your face feels like it’s on fire but you don’t fight it, only whimpering quietly when he at last has you situated how he wants. 

“M - monsieur …” You mewl into the suddenly statically charged office, unable to stop it, but he just quietly tuts at you as he turns his head to press his mouth against your hair. 

“Now, now, you’re alright. I’ve got you. There isn’t any reason to be so nervous.” A violent tremor tears through you when you feel his lips purse against the side of your head in what you think must be a brief kiss — but you don’t get the chance to fully process the significance of that as he bends a little closer to put his mouth near your ear now. “Spread your legs for me, little one. Let me see you.” 

Dizzy with the surge of white hot arousal that abruptly crashes into you with all the force of a sack of bricks, you give a weak, twitchy roll of your body against him and reach down with trembling hands to grab at your skirt. Slowly inching it up, you tip your chin down to watch with him as more and more of your thighs are revealed. The soft pudge around the tops of your stockings embarrasses you somewhat but not nearly as much as your panties do. Even from this angle you can see a dark, wet spot staining the crotch when you ease your legs open and you whimper softly at the sight of it. 

“Goodness, you certainly soaked yourself earlier didn’t you? Poor thing,” With a quiet click of his tongue, monsieur Neuvillette reaches down past cotton and lace, and voluminous frills to slide his hand over your mound. Your breath hitches as you watch him do it, cupping your pussy with an almost apologetic squeeze, and you quickly turn your head away before you can say or do something else you’ll regret today. 

You had to admit, it was very naive and shortsighted of you to consider this an easy penance just because it was not a constant, pressing concern at the forefront of your mind. How very foolish you had been. 

“I was thinking about it earlier and I found myself quite curious,” He admits, still just holding your cunt in the palm of his hand. “Would it be too impolite of me to ask how often you usually pleasure yourself?” 

Your chest dramatically heaves with the ragged gasp you suck in. “Monsieur Neuvillette, that’s … why would you ask me something like that?” 

“Oh dear, I hope I haven’t offended you. That was not my intention, little one. Please forgive me.” A pause, while he turns his head to press his lips against your hair again. “It is just that you are so shy and your body is so sensitive. I wondered if perhaps you were too ashamed to take care of your own needs in this manner, that’s all. I’ve heard some women are.” 

Lungs painfully constricting inside your chest, you stiffly lift your hands up to cover your face. Having the Iudex pet you so intimately was one thing, but discussing such matters with him was something else entirely! 

“P - please forgive me, monsieur … you haven’t offended me it’s just — I have no experience with this sort of thing. I do it, sometimes. Pleasure myself like that. But I’ve never had anyone else t - touch me in that way before …” 

“I see.” 

Silence settles over the room for a long, drawn out stretch that soon starts to ride the line of being uncomfortable. You can just start to feel the sting of hot tears creeping through at the corners of your eyes when he gently pats your cunt with the flats of his fingers, startling a surprised noise out of you. Lowering your hands enough to see, you gape down at yourself as he somewhat possessively cups his hand around you again and gives the pudge of your labia a light squeeze. 

“Such a silly thing you are.” He says against your head, displacing some of the little flyways there to send them dancing at your peripheral. You barely even notice it though, trembling at the faintest hint of a growl in his voice when it sets your guts to vibrate and seems to reverberate inside your chest cavity. You’d never heard him sound like that before but don’t get the chance to linger on that thought or question it, because he nuzzles further into you until it feels like he’s speaking directly into your ear now. “In the future you should try not to be so forthcoming with your body when it comes to men. Had I been any less honorable I could have all too easily taken advantage of you earlier and I could still do it now had I wanted to. I understand your desire for wrongs to be appropriately righted as that is the very foundation Fontaine was built on but this is not the way to go about it, mademoiselle.” 

Your mouth warbles open but nothing comes out. All you can do is sit there, quaking on monsieur Neuvillette’s lap, while his fingers slip into one side of your panties and tugs them aside. The sight of your own cunt lips, puffy and flushed with arousal, surprises a faltering animal noise out of you that seems to echo endlessly inside the room. He pays it little mind though and simply curls his thumb to brush over your slit and the clitoris hiding within, smearing sticky slick with that fine leather glove and nudging your body into opening up to him. Legs twitching, you jerk your hands down to latch onto the arm locked around your middle, clutching at him even as you fitfully writhe against the sensation. 

All at once your earlier arousal comes crashing back with a vengeance, temporarily forgotten but not near as snuffed out as you would have liked it to be. Your clit thrums under his stilted caress as if the climax you’d been close enough to taste but not able to experience had lain dormant this entire time while you ensured the water pitchers were filled, the snack tables stocked and the fireplaces were appropriately stoked wherever they were needed. It shocks you a great deal to realize how powerful your arousal truly is, and you buck your hips with a whiny moan that would have embarrassed you under better circumstances. 

But better circumstances would not have found your cunt absolutely flooding with a deluge of fresh slick, nor would your clit have been swelling as eagerly as it does. You can feel the meaty, engorged drag of it under the soft petting of his thumb, almost idly drawing it back and forth with a total lack of urgency that makes your head spin perhaps even more so than the sharp stabs of pleasure do. You wanted to cum, and the knowledge that he would not permit you to just makes you want it even more. 

“Please, monsieur —!” 

Softly humming, he presses his thumb down a bit more firmly. “Are you already getting close, little one?” 

You tip your head back to rest on his broad shoulder, panting up at the ceiling while shuddering waves of yet unrealized ecstasy crash over you, each somehow more powerful than the last. Instinctively, you inch your legs further apart even as they tremble fiercely for him and you think, idly, you probably would have vibrated right off him had he not been keeping you pinned against his front. You’re helpless to do anything except sensitively quake like this, and you do so with great enthusiasm. 

“It is too much … I - I can’t take it!” 

“You will.” He assures you, his voice soft again but it still carries that subtle hint of an edge underneath the surface. You didn’t understand it, why he would sound like that. What had brought it on. Was he even more displeased with you than he’d suggested? 

The thought alone brings tears to your eyes almost as much as the cresting pleasure making you writhe on his lap, and you squeeze your eyes shut to keep them at bay. You didn’t want to make him feel bad for causing you to cry when you were the one who had asked for this … but oh, it was so very hard not to give voice to the sobs threatening to wrack your body when it was all so much. The firm, weighty pressure of his thumb petting over your cunt, his other fingers idly teasing along your slit where they were still holding your panties aside. The smell of him, the taste of him lingering on the back of your tongue, his sturdy weight underneath you. It was all too much, and it felt like you were drowning in him. 

“Let this be a lesson to you,” He continues, unconcerned with the way you twist against him and choke on stuttering gasps. “Even more pressing than the matter with mister Danon, I’m far more concerned about how easily you gave yourself up to a man to do with however he pleased for the sake of penance. Needless self sacrifice is not justice, sweet girl. I do hope you’ll remember that.” 

Bending his head close once more, monsieur Neuvillette presses his mouth to your hammering pulse, and you mewl at the contact. It is not so much a kiss, you abruptly realize, as it is a not very subtle threat. Like there was a beast lurking beneath that kindly gentleman facade … 

“Oh, monsieur, I — I’m going to —“ 

“No, you are not.” He cuts across you, practically hisses it against your jugular, and you nearly jolt right off him when the arm around your middle slides up to lock across your front at an angle. Suddenly he pinches your nipple through your shirt where it’s stiff and straining against cotton, giving it a mean little tweak to make your back bow. Trying to twist away proves futile and you yelp at the pleasure laced pain even as your cunt drools even more obscenely in response. 

You felt like you were going crazy. Truly wild with potent, cloying arousal so powerful, so overwhelming, you can’t even process what’s happening to you while you shake right to the edge of your release. 

And just like that, the hand on your pussy retreats, pulling away altogether to leave your panties shamelessly askew in favor of latching onto the swell of your inner thigh and keeping them spread when you frantically buck your hips in search of that fleeting touch. You heave and groan, reeling at the total loss of friction, but it is useless. Monsieur Neuvillette is an unyielding presence at your back no matter how earnestly you squirm against him, and his gloved fingers give your aching teat another cruel tug to further stave off your release. 

You’re more than a bit horrified, in a delirious, hazy sort of way, to find that the pain serves its purpose in chasing away your climax enough to leave your pussy absolutely throbbing in the wake of this denial. No longer teetering right on the precipice, it seems to force you back a pace or two and all you can do is look on longingly at the promise of oblivion beyond with yearning and desperation. Wanting, but not allowed to have. 

You truly had underestimated just how tortuous this punishment technique could really be … 

Through the murky fever you feel monsieur Neuvillette brush his mouth across your cheek to press at the corner of your eye, effectively drawing you out of your groaning stupor. Sucking in a ragged gasp, you clutch at his arm all the tighter and try in vain to lean away. 

“M - monsieur?” 

“You’re crying.” 

Noising a soft sound of confusion, you blearily blink your eyes open to realize that they were in fact clouded with a swimming sheen of tears making them burn. Sniffling sadly, you start to reach up to swipe them away in shame but the hand on your breast comes up quicker and locks under your jaw, physically turning your face towards him. 

Laying spread out on top of him with your head forced back against his shoulder, you look up at monsieur Neuvillette from just a scant few millimeters away. His expression is still somber and unreadable but … the glint in his pale lilac eyes makes your chest hitch. It wasn’t hunger the same way you’d on occasion caught other men looking at you — men like mister Danon, you realize in retrospect — but it is a hunger all the same. Something old and primal, from a long forgotten dark age that inspires a slow curling tendril of uncertainty low in your gut. You don’t think it’s lust per se, not in the usual sense, but a kind of lust,  perhaps. One you didn’t have a name for. 

One you weren’t sure if you wanted to learn the true nature of. 

After silently studying you for a long moment, he finally drags his gaze from your face to regard the tall, stately clock standing sentry in the office, the only witness to this lurid state of affairs. “I still have some time before my meeting. I think we should be able to squeeze in one more session before I have to go.” 

You very nearly give voice to a hysterical, broken sob, just barely managing to choke it back with a frazzled whine instead. “Monsieur —“ 

“Hush, little one.” He murmurs and leans close again, stunned surprise washing over you when his tongue flicks out to lick up a wet tear from under your eye. You gape at him in shocked disbelief when he pulls back enough to look at you again, leaving behind residual moisture on your skin, but he doesn’t even look the least bit put out or sorry for it. Like it was a perfectly normal thing for him to be doing. Perhaps it was. You had no idea – and if he recognizes your surprised reaction for what it is, he certainly doesn’t show it. “You have nothing to fear from me. I will ensure your punishment is properly administered and then we shall further discuss your other behaviors in greater detail. Rest assured, you will be appropriately corrected in time. I will personally see to that myself.”

⭐

Crossposted: here

[fairyhaos]

seventeen and being cafe workers

requested by anon: "hi! i really liked your take of svt having a cold! what are your thoughts on svt as cafe workers? thank you for your hard work! "

notes: LMAO this was actually sm fun

masterlist

seungcheol

he doesn't know why he's working in a cafe tbh. he doesn't even know how it happened. jeonghan brought him to the cafe he worked at one day and the next thing he knew, he was being hired as a barista at that very same place. oh well, he supposes it's kind of fun (?) to work alongside such chipper people, and it encourages him to talk to a vast range of people while he works

jeonghan

assistant manager, sleeps in the back room half the time, only ever gets called out for it by chan. somehow a master at handling orders during rush hour, though? gets through coffees in a flash, taking orders and yelling at minghao to get on with it and also packaging pastries and working the cashier and still smiling and greeting people nicely. but don't call for his help until it's rush hour again okay he needs another nap now

joshua

doesn't actually do, like . anything. he's out there on the floor chatting to people and (sometimes) taking orders and (not really) clearing the tables and smiling and doing nothing whatsoever. gets away with it bc he's pretty and good at talking to people so it gains them more customers anyway. works in a cafe, but doesn't like coffee. asks people if they want a cake instead when they ask what coffee he recommends

junhui

bright and sweet and has the weirdest recommendations when customers ask him how he normally takes his coffee. either looks like he's buzzed up on way too much caffeine or looking like he's about to doze off any second. has probably slept during a lull in his shift before. whizzes around the shop with his broom going "wheee!!" while he's cleaning up when they're closing up the coffee shop for the day

hoshi

bids all the customers goodbye with a wave and his signature move (his horanghae hands), gets slapped on the head with a tea towel by woozi every time he catches him. is always stealing the pastries from inside the display during the lazy times of the day, swears he's innocent and pins the blame on poor seungkwan who was on the other side of the cafe at that time

wonwoo

has literally every customer in their early 20s giving him their phone numbers/ asking him if he wants to go grab something to eat with them. typically hides behind the coffee machines and doing the barista work bc ngl he's kinda terrified because one time this lady just Kept Coming Back to talk to him and his social battery was just not up for dealing with her level of bright chatter. 

woozi

he gives me manager vibes. he's the one who scolds mingyu whenever he gets within a three foot radius of the coffee machines, who hits hoshi over the head for his excessive tiger agenda, who lets jeonghan sleep in the back room but denies that it's because he's lowkey scared of him. very very good at manager-ing and can also barista when it gets too busy. the cafe would fall to pieces without him tbh. 

minghao

one of the best baristas ever. memorises complicated orders in the blink of an eye. rattles off the order back to the customer when they claim that he made their drink wrong and then raises an eyebrow and goes "isn't that what you wanted, sir?". grins almost sadistically whenever someone orders an insanely caffeine-loaded drink. is in horror at junhui's coffee preferences. 

mingyu

isn't allowed near the coffee machines after that one time he almost broke one of them while pulling the lever too hard. is great at doing cashier work because he's such eye candy, pulls in the greatest amount of tips because of it. sometimes works the floor, but that's also risky bc there have been times where he's gotten in the way of his colleagues as they hand out coffee and spilt it all down his uniform

dokyeom

brighest sunshine smile ever. asked to work mainly morning shifts, and woozi agreed because putting seokmin and his sunshine brightness in an evening shift would probably make their tired customers feel even more exhausted while talking to his unending brightness. has gotten the second most amount of numbers given to him after wonwoo, but the clueless boy doesn't even understand why

seungkwan

that one chatty barista who talks about anything and everything to anyone who looks at him too long while he's working. hates the opening shift. always complains long and loud at how sloppily the shop was cleaned up by the people on the closing shift of the day before. scolds hoshi when he snatches a cake pop when he thinks no one is looking. 

vernon

Good And Honest Worker™. nothing to say tbh, he's just actually genuinely good at the job. everyone wants to be put on the same shift as him. gives customers song recommendations too whenever they ask him what drink he recommends they have. once tried to write the prop-up sign for the cafe, was laughed at by woozi bc it looked like it was written by a child

chan

newbie. doesn't know how to work the coffee machines, isn't allowed to figure them out in case he becomes the next mingyu and destroys the machine that was almost killed by the guy's hands. is in charge of drawing smiley faces on the coffee cups. writes everyone's name wrongly on the cup, and yet calls it out flawlessly every time as he hands them their coffee with a beam and a chipper "have a nice day!"

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[yeonslayjun]

Dumb and Dumber - Hualian

Hua Cheng and Xie Lian are so OBVIOUS and OBLIVIOUS at the same time Honestly They amaze me ngl

Cuz Hua Cheng be Like - Wdym Gege Loves me?? That's impossible like I don't think he loves me solely for the fact that I'm one of his last believer left and that I built a FUCKING CITY for him and how I ran helped him in a case and dressed up as a Groom and gege was a bride (Oh his dead heart definitely started beating then pls ) and how I Built a temple to worship him and how I released 3000 lanterns for him and that I've made 10,000 statues for gege and not how I have red thread of fate on my finger bc he tied his hair on my finger

ALSO wdym I had my gay awakening at the land of tender??? Impossible He's my god I can't have those feelings for him bc I'm a dirty piece of shit (NO YOU ARE NOT)

and DEFINITELY NOT HOW I GAVE HIM Spirtual Power... DEFINITELY NOT HAHAHA.... Now let me just ask his hand for marriage OH nvm I'm unworthy he doesn't like me ( WHILE XIE LIAN IS SITTING ON HIS LAP ) let's make it into a joke hahaha..... OH? Gege's says he's happy for my beloved when will he know it's him talking about?? :( ( let's ignore he didn't know half of these lmao)

OH MY GOD GEGE SAW THE STATUES That's it I'm getting disowned by him He'll hate me ofc he will... I knew this would happen no I'm okay, IT'S FINE... Yeah he really should make it clear that he doesn't love me huh? :((

Like Hua Cheng is SO DOWN BAD for Xie Lian Like Honey we get it You exist to LOVE your Taizi Danxia and to serve Cvnt and angst

AND

My guy Xie Lian here is SO VERY OBLIVIOUS like I get that he was practicing abstinence but bro's like -

Oh Hua Cheng is such a pretty name *giggles* Oh and his hands were so beautiful and he was gentle with me too when he dressed as the Groom *blushes* Oh Crimson Rain Sought Flower is his name? *swoons* HOLY SHIT HE'S HOT *nosebleeds*

I like this kid san lang. OoO Did he just suck the poison out of me?!?! DAYUM he killed so many people at once *swoons x2*... WAIT IS HE HUA CHENG??!?! Oh my gosh IT IS Hua Cheng ajhsjdhsudhu Let's act calm and composed hehe. Let's sleep together cuz He would never hurt me >:( I wonder what happened to the kid who said he'd worship only me :( He was a good kid yk? Had one eye covered too kinda like you actually haha Funny Right???

He's so perfect as a "sworn brother" ( Yes I'm looking at you SQX) protecting me and shit. Wait he trusts me??? ME?!?! huh?!?!. San Lang~~~. AHHH HE RELEASED 3000 LANTERNS FOR ME AHHHH I LOVE HIM as a friend ofc ofc.

Oh I LOVE getting Spiritual Energy from him <3 that wasn't a kiss nope it wasn't.... ERROR 101 San Lang asked my hand in marriage ERROR.... o h He was Joking :( ofc he was :((( I wish he wasn't tho :((((( SAN LANG HAS A BELOVED?!?!? Ofc he has He's such a handsome and kind man he probably gets all the bitches he wants But why do I feel smth weird in my heart?? (IT'S CALLED JEALOUSY YOU DUMB MOTHOFO )

Honestly God (Jun Wu LMAO) Knows how he survived the past 800 years like BRO WHY IS YOU SO STUPID when it comes to love?!?!? Like ISTG He's one of the smartest of all the jokes called "GODS". But he still doesn't get it till he saw the 10,000 statues Hua Cheng prepared like pls

ALSO Hua Cheng the ghost king who defeated 33 gods and how his smartass self esp rubbed the floor with them Civil Heavenly Officials But the one moment he needs it to realise the VERY OBVIOUS FACT that Xie Lian loves him The Genius Smartass is nowhere to be seen

But tbh I can't blame Hua Cheng much here cuz Xie Lian was very oblivious to his own feelings pls BUT STILL

Their Slow-burn was too much for me Like the chemistry was SO OBVIOUS but they're just Dumb kids when it comes to feelings *sighs* The Hualian Brainrot is rotting my brain away as we peak

[stxrmxtsu]

I know this sounds wierd af but um…how likely do you think the brothers would touch S/O’s boobs or butt (WITH THEM ENTHUSIASTICALLY CONSENTING OF COURSE)

GIRL YOU AIN’T WEIRD FOR ASKING CUZ I WANT THEM TO TOUCH ME LIKE THAT

also i added a little personal touch to this since at first i didn't understand your ask, and i kinda just rolled with how i read it, so IM SO SORRY IF ITS NOT WHAT YOU MEANT

(small update: i got a little lazy and 'to the point' with these because this fandom is slowly slipping through my fingers :( so sorry if it isn't top tier)

tag(s): talks about booties and boobies so slight NSFW warning, ichimatsu being lowkey obsessed with you (as he should), etc.

osomatsu:

you don’t understand, he NEEDS to have a hand on you at all times. especially on your ass. he would constantly ask if he can touch your tiddies, even in public, and with your ENTHUSIASTIC consent, you’d mostly say yes and not care that others are watching but when its an actual inappropriate time, you’d be like “BOY SHUT UP”.

i think he likes touching your ass more tho and he more often than not, does the ‘put hand in the back pocket of your jeans’ thing.

karamatsu:

kara is also a 'put hand in the back pocket of your jeans' kind of person, but i think it's more of a 'im being protective of my woman/ kind of thing', but we all know....that's only half of the case.. i believe that karamatsu is a pervert but he chokes that shit down and hides it with his 'omg im so cool' facade. he gets nervous when he gets close to your tiddies tho, even if you consented or just did not care if he put his hands all over you, he would be like 'nope respect women juice comes first before my sick perversions'

choromatsu:

its a given, he's awkward as all fuck. listen, you consented, you told him you didn't care if he touched you, and he still sits there and stares at you awkwardly waiting for you to initiate something first.

one time though, he actually mustered up the courage to touch your boobas while you were making out and then he got cocky and started squeezing your waist, down to your ass and you moaned, of course, but his brain processed that as 'oh my god i hurt her' and he pulled AWAY.

you didn't forgive him for that one and he has apologized so many times since that day.

ichimatsu:

he's also a pervert that chokes it down, but i think in a relationship, his sick mind comes out more. OF COURSE, he would ask you first, he would never just let his intrusive thoughts win. and with your surprisingly enthusiastic consent...

all hell breaks loose..

what have you done, [name]?

that man is just as bad as osomatsu, his hands are EVERYWHERE on your body.

i think his favorite place is your ass tho. idk, its the perfect place to rest his hands on and he especially loves laying on it when you two have your lazy days.

he's just happy you exist tbh and he can do whatever he wants without having to feel bad about it.

jyushimatsu:

alright let me just make this clear, jyushimatsu is just as perverted as his other brothers, he just also drinks his respect women juice.

but once you give him free reign over touching you..

he's so 'cute' about it though, i think? he likes to mask the fact that he's tryna touch your tiddies with 'aww a hug from behind! how cute' kind of thing.

WE KNOW WHAT YOU ARE JYUSHI.

todomatsu:

totty is.....totty. of course he would wanna touch your tummy more because of your belly button, but this is about boobs and booty. i think he's in the same boat as jyushi, 'mask the fact that he's tryna feel you up with a cutesy act' thing.

if you're taller than him (this is gonna get self indulgent), he likes to rest his chin on your chest (boobs) and look up at you all innocent, like, YOU'RE NOT FOOLING ANYONE TODOMATSU.

i think in general though, he doesn't really touch you anywhere, even with your spoken consent. the only times he'll probably touch you there is when you guys are getting....steamy.

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

the end! im so sorry this took so long to get out to you, anon. my life is just really busy and i never really have time off to myself anymore but hopefully this makes up for your wait! as i said, i did get a little lazy and just came up with some things on the spot but i hope its still worth reading! (i mean any matsu content is matsu content).

and as stated, my hyperfixation for this fandom is slowly dwindling but i really hope i can get back to it and get this content out for you guys!

also mini life update: i started my ear stretching process for gauges! its still very small and hopefully i can get it to a decent size, i don't want them TOO big because...ew.

[batsplat]

about 2007 motegi, i’ve really thought a lot… when valentino congratulated casey on his title, he specifically mentioned his championship t-shirt. from my observation there wasn’t anything particularly special about it, it might just be valentino’s joke

but casey really cared about valentino’s actions… he not only wanted valentino’s verbal congratulations but also asked just like why didn’t you come shake my hand!!! i should get the same treatment as nicky!!!😠

(vaguely following on from this and this post) oh I remember the shirt, it's actually one of my favourite bits of niche valentino/casey lore!! valentino isn't JUST being a facetious dickhead here, his name is literally on casey's 2007 championship shirt as one of casey's heroes:

isn't this crazy?? I've never been able to find a great source for the actual list of names, so god knows how exclusive this club was... apparently casey also had the names of his ducati crew on there, which is a nice touch tbh. but he had valentino's name on that shirt!! given how by this point he was already mad at valentino for switching up towards him, it's such a funny choice to make. literally nobody would have questioned his exclusion! you're competing against the guy! idk, I love it when casey does something just a little unexpected like that, really makes you want to poke at the guy to figure out what his deal is. and pleasingly, we do also have an actual clip of valentino commenting on the shirt:

Yes, like I say before, it's a great pleasure that one of my fans wins the world championship - so I think half is also mine!

look at his smirk. insufferable. just a fantastic dynamic they've got going on, isn't it

but I did NOT know about casey complaining about not getting a cooldown lap handshake. and. lol?? casey?? come on. some dignity, please. I can't believe they actually got valentino to respond to that. reminds me of a similar-ish 'controversy' from 2010 about how jorge was accused of deliberately ignoring future teammate ben spies coming to congratulate him on the cooldown lap, as like... a form of sophisticated mind games ig. at least there it wasn't actually spies complaining. you can tell that even casey upon reflection probably decided this wasn't a legitimate grievance by how he's not brought it up again since... valentino did have a pretty nightmarish motegi race for annoying tyre-related reasons, so was understandably not in a great mood, and he was not in fact the defending champion... so like. I checked the footage and reckon valentino probably could have worked a little harder to get over to casey, but also this is obviously an extremely petty thing to complain about

and while we're talking petty, the ghostwriter of casey's autobiography thinks that casey was also pissed at valentino at the next race in phillip island for *checks notes* having a special helmet design at casey's home race? incredible scenes

literally started off the infamous phillip island streak with a spite win. your regular reminder that casey says in his autobiography that he doesn't use his rivals to motivate himself

and motegi 2007 is ofc also the table football race. a flyover stretch with fascinating interpersonal vibes, truly

so late 2007 is when casey really starts going in on how valentino had cooled off towards him AND talking about not liking valentino's tone in the press, that valentino wasn't as complimentary of him as he'd been at the start of the season... which might be true, but casey wasn't exactly a shrinking violet either when answering questions about valentino. as an example, this is how he's talking about valentino in july of 2007:

"This rule is not good and we need more tyres," Rossi said earlier in the week, "The problem is for the show because, at the end, it is the tyre that decides the race." "At the beginning of the season, Valentino and the others were all for the new tyre rules," Stoner points out, "but, as soon as they don't win, the rule is crap. I've had my bad races this year, especially in Germany, and I'm not complaining about the tyre rule. "They can moan and whinge about it as much as they want, but it shows that [Michelin] has had such an advantage in the past. This season, they cannot bring a tyre in just for the race [and] it's a matter of relying on the company that supports you to do a good job."

"moan and whinge" steady on casey

valentino over the years has talked about this rivalry far less than casey has... which includes not being all that interested in diagnosing when things soured interpersonally between the two of them - beyond saying a couple times in 2010-12 during the pettiest phase of the feud that casey hadn't gotten over laguna. mostly this isn't that big a problem because valentino's side of the rivalry is so much more straightforward, but it's still obviously not ideal. it's that relative scarcity which makes the following interview answer from 2009 one of my other favourite tidbits:

"He bases his sentences on the results. Even at the beginning of 2007 he was giving me a lot of compliments, then, after winning the World Championship, he started with heavy criticism."

isn't it lovely that casey thinks valentino switched up his tone towards him because casey started winning, and valentino thinks casey switched up his tone towards valentino because casey started winning... just nicely mirror each other, don't they. such good foils

so taking all these pieces of evidence together... you get a really nice sense of how casey by end of 2007 was all over the place wrt valentino. he misses valentino being as friendly to him as in years past!! he liked valentino congratulating him by rubbing his head in qatar 2007 :) enough to mention that parc fermé interaction THREE TIMES in his autobiography!! doesn't appreciate not getting his hand held after sealing the title :( is increasingly surly that whole year about how nobody is giving him enough credit for his successes :/ is building on a reputation already established in 2006 for being rather an outspoken character when it comes to complaining about everyone in complaining range... but also has an issue with valentino being rude about him in the press :| but still puts valentino on his championship shirt on his list of heroes <3 like... buddy. what is going on here

part of what's going on ofc is that casey takes offence incredibly easily and valentino can be a pretty offensive character. now, again, I really don't think valentino was doing that much in 2007, but obviously my standard for 'valentino being reasonably respectful to rivals' is probably rather different to 2007!casey's standards. it's the malice casey reads into valentino's actions that I reckon is mostly misplaced... like yeah sure valentino distances himself from championship rivals, but. y'know. that's pretty normal behaviour. the fun thing about 2007 is that knowing valentino's entire feud history, you're sort of primed to read it as valentino being the aggressor... but if anything, casey is generally openly ruder towards valentino than vice versa. now obviously, valentino at this stage is a lot better at the subtler, under the radar nastiness that must be infuriating to be subjected to... but y'know, at the end of the day valentino still isn't openly attacking casey. and when discussing this rivalry, it's crucial to acknowledge what an extremely prickly character casey is - that's what makes it so enjoyable!! even better, he's an extremely prickly character who is very ready to make enemies but is ALSO kind of weird about valentino rossi specifically

and yes, having a valentino rossi complex is basically part of the job description if you're a motogp rider of a certain age. still, always important to acknowledge that all of valentino's feuds with younger riders involved guys who were already A Bit Weird about valentino going into the rivalry, which inevitably affected how those respective rivalries ended up laying out. what's so fun about it is that all three of them express it in completely different ways - from jorge's somewhat deranged level of dedication to analysing valentino's every breath, to marc's overenthusiastic commitment towards imitating valentino and beating him and also throwing himself at him at every opportunity, to casey's rather more repressed approach where he's simultaneously extremely sensitive to any possible offence on valentino's part while also kind of wishing they could be friends...? or something? I don't even know what casey's after! doesn't help that he's subsequently retconned this period where he like... kinda looked up to valentino, sure, and respected him and all that - but certainly no mention of putting valentino on championship celebration shirts. so we still have quite a limited amount of evidence at our disposal, but I would gently suggest that casey's cool, composed 'didn't even care who I was beating' rhetoric doesn't quite match up to reality. and casey thinks that valentino got more critical of casey because he was losing and valentino thinks casey got more critical of valentino because he was winning... and the thing is, they're both going to be somewhat right!! attacking rivals from a position of strength is actually kinda part of both of their preferred MO's - it's a similarity between them that plays into how casey at times gets to play the valentino role in this rivalry. so yeah, casey will have almost certainly gotten even mouthier once he could get away with it. but equally, even though valentino wasn't escalating hostilities by his standards, even just his natural process of distancing himself a little from his direct title rivals and getting a tad snarky about them in the press wasn't exactly being well received by casey. and thus they can both say with some justification that the other rider was a lot friendlier towards them at start of the year, and both will have reacted to this in a way that helped further gradually ramp up the level of hostility. lovely stuff

still, you do have to come back to how imbalanced this rivalry was wrt how emotionally invested the pair of them were. having a firm grasp of their dynamic in 2007 is key to understanding how the whole thing subsequently played out, in part casey was less guarded and just a little more likely to let a few things slip... valentino wants to beat this challenging new rival, but I reckon he's mostly being sincere in that his main frustration in 2007 is feeling like he's not even able to fight casey at all for bike/tyre reasons. it's a rivalry he generally enjoyed when they were actually going at it! a comfort zone rivalry that really isn't all that emotionally messy from his side. even if he'll maybe still imply casey's compliments of him were never sincere, seeing how they dried up over the course of 2007... or perhaps joke about casey putting his name on his championship winning shirt, how at least he's losing to a fan... something fun about how valentino is always aware of that idolisation dynamic and is capable of playing with it, just a little. even with casey

whereas for casey, this isn't a game. casey really enjoyed valentino being nice to him and is ever so sensitive towards valentino pulling back. casey thinks valentino isn't giving him the credit he is owed and escalates his rhetoric in response. casey puts valentino's name on his championship winning shirt and then complains valentino didn't hold his hand. poor casey... it'd all be easier if he just didn't care, but that's the one thing he could never quite manage