#and with funny wording and pleasant imagery

[cherryberg]

What does crumb even mean in that context?/gen

just like. a crumb. a crumb of bread

[tadpoles-and-daydreams]

A chat with Lady Hekate

.... Well, holy shit.

I do not work with Hekate. I do not plan to- I don't get the vibe that she plans to work with me in the future, either.

But I have a friend who had a period of time where they were seeing her EVERYWHERE, signs of her everywhere, but were too scared to work with her. Recently I offered to do a reading and see if I could confirm or deny that it was Hekate, and see if they truly missed that opportunity or if Hekate still wanted to work with them. (For the record, she did.)

The first card I pulled, asking if Lady Hekate was willing to speak to me, was upright (yes) and the death card. I had thought not long ago that it'd be funny to see that from her, but thought it was "too big an ask" for something that obvious.

Of course, Hekate proceeded to give me a card with imagery that strongly resembles how I've seen her portrayed twice after the first death card. She doesn't fuck around, I've noticed.

At one point, I felt like I needed to "reconnect" the cards to her for lack of a better word, so I sat with them in my hands and asked her to reconnect her energy. I didn't expect her to suddenly put her hands above mine, over the deck, and I felt them. Not physically, but I felt them. Her energy was... soothing. Comforting. Gentle. Kind. I told her that, and that it surprised me since I knew her only as a force to be reckoned with.

"Of course I'm kind, my job is to help people transition from to the afterlife. That's a scary transition to make. Part of being a good guide to them is listening to their stories, their regrets, their fear- all of it." I won't lie, I almost teared up.

At one point, I was feeling nervous about the cards since they felt a bit personal, and I was sending this to my friend, and "what if they shoot the messenger, I'm gonna delete that line-" and I felt Hekate just. "Do not get between a goddess and her child."

LIKE OKAY YES MA'AM, WILL DO-

Overall, she was very kind and I'm no longer nervous about doing readings involving deities and entities I don't work with. I know not all of them will be so gentle, but she was wonderful and just generally pleasant to be around.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒.

DAY SEVEN OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: cosmic horror au + western au + "you're a fucking nightmare. kiss me."

pairing: jack daniels x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni, soft enemies to lovers

summary: with celestial dancers ensnaring victims with entrancing performances that lead innocents away from their homes. Jack and you, cowboy sheriffs with a history of discord, leave town in search of the missing people.

word count: 3.5k

warnings: daddy kink, mirror sex (kinda there's a mist that imitates your desires and copies your movements so technically it's like a mirror but without a reflective surface), outdoor sex, piv, hint of horror imagery, dirty talk, size kink (jack is a big boy in every universe fight me)

a/n: sorry y'all this is unedited but hopefully i didn't make too many mistakes! enjoy xx

“I still don’t understand why we need to go together. I’m completely capable on my own.” 

On cue, Starlight whinnies and shakes her head, her disagreement apparent. You frown at the horse, “You’re supposed to be on my side,” you quip, refusing to look at Jack whose laughter rings out. 

The lanterns you have on each horse illuminate the road ahead but do little in actually illuminating your surroundings. Shadows linger in every corner. The sky, despite still having the sun up, is a dusty copper, dark clouds swirling and forming shape of all watching eyes. The world had become an odd place. Humans were mere ants now, easy to crush beneath the forces out of your control. Distance between towns had become wide, each town having deputies to protect the innocents within. Dangerous weapons had been forged to fight against the evil and given to every sherrif in town. 

Lately people have been gone missing. In the dead of night celestial dancers would just stand at the edge of town, ensnaring victims with entrancing performances to take them far away from their homes. You didn’t ask what these dancers did to the ones they captured, you assumed it wasn’t anything pleasant. 

You and Jack being the more talented sheriffs of the town had been picked to locate said missing people. The further you two traversed away from town, the more menacing and confusing the world around you became. The darkness moves. Creatures of all kinds snarling and drooling within the deep forests. 

“I know you’re capable, sugar,” Jack remarks, he expertly guides his horse, bringing the two of you into closer proximity. The rhythmic sound of hooves fills the air as you draw near. “But you must admit, this is a dangerous job.” 

You only shrug, “Beats being here with you.” 

“You hate me that much that you’d be willin’ to die?” he says with a lazy grin. “That’s a bit extreme, even for you.” 

“I doubt this is going to be that hard. You just like teasing me.” 

“Hmmm maybe. . . but I blame you for that, sugar. You’re too fun to tease.” 

A loud sigh parts your lips and you shake your head. Jack was and always will be insufferable. In all honesty, Jack wasn’t so bad. He just had a talent for getting under your skin. But you had to admit, your frustrations with him had been shifting into something else, something like desire, for a while now. 

Your fingers tighten around the reins. You’ve been trying really hard to ignore the flutter in your stomach whenever he was around, you’d never hear the end of it if he figured it out. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, lowering the front of your hat. “You’re incorrigible.” You glance over at Jack, who's trying to stifle his laughter but failing miserably. Your frown deepens. 

“Incorrigible?” he snorts. “So sophisticated with your insults today, should I be flattered?” 

“I’m just running out of words to insult you with.” 

His smile falters slightly, annoyance creasing between his brows, “Funny.” 

Jack’s annoyance brings a smile to your face. You’re about to say more, eager to get under his skin just like he does yours, but suddenly he lifts a hand and halts his horse. You do the same, tightening the reins until Starlight comes to a full stop. 

He presses his forefinger slowly to his lips and points ahead with the other. Goosebumps raising across your skin, your gaze turns to the dirt road. 

There’s nothing. 

Until there’s something. 

The first thing you notice is the eyes; they’re red dots, gleaming and staring into your soul. 

Then you notice the antlers sprouting from behind the skull of the long figure. Two of them curling around its jaw. It's wearing a long cloak, the type similar to what you and Jack wear when the weather is turning cold. The light of your lanterns reflects on the figure, 

Panic flaring in your gut, your eyes snap to Jack. He’s only staring. Calm and steady. “Look down,” he mouths without looking at you. 

The silence is deafening. You look at the eerie figure again, its hand now stretched towards you both as if beckoning you to come closer. It’s a bony hand, a sickly grayish-green. You hold your breath and lower your gaze. Your lids flutter in surprise as you notice the sheep at the figure's feet. They have horns just like him, and have the same glowing red eyes. The animals stare at you, not a sound coming from them. 

Shepard of the Voidborne, your mind whispers to you. You were told that he was once human and after being driven out of his mind, became one of the cosmic horrors that lurked all around. He had his sheep and that was pretty much it. He only came out during the night. The shepard was harmless for the most part but if you made a sound or attacked, your death was immediate. 

The tricky part was that you had to sense him before he came. You had to catch the stillness of the wind, the sudden silence that befell, and the scent of the dead. 

You didn’t notice any of that. 

But Jack had. 

The Shepard and his sheep stare at you long enough that it feels like forever. He never lowers his hand, the invite always there if you were stupid enough to take it. 

You fight against letting out a breath of relief when he finally turns away, the sheep mimicking him. Fear coating your tongue, you close your eyes and focus on your heartbeat instead, willing it to become silent. 

He doesn’t make a sound as he leaves and you only realize that when Jack gently touches your cheek, pulling you back to reality. 

“He’s gone, darlin’,” he says surprisingly soft. “You’re safe.” 

His fingers curl towards the back of your ear, palm cradling the side of your face, warmth spreads. Your breath hitches and you quickly avert your gaze, “I see that,” you say sharply. “Let’s go.” 

“Lead the way, ma’am,” Jack muses as you do exactly that, his gaze glinting with mischief. 

You try not to think about the lingering warmth left on your cheek. 

The horses are tethered nearby, and the lanterns cast a warm glow around your small circle of safety. You set up a modest fire, its crackling flames pushing back the encroaching darkness.

Jack produces a bottle of whiskey from his saddlebag. He uncorks it and offers it to you with a grin. "Care for a drink, sugar? I figure we've earned."

You accept the offer, taking the bottle and taking a long, deep swig before passing it back. The warm burn of the whiskey helps chase away the lingering chill of fear from your encounter with the Shepard.

Jack settles down beside you, close enough that your shoulders brush. He gazes into the flames, lost in thought for a moment. Then, he turns his attention to you, his eyes softening with concern. "You okay, sugar?"

“I guess,” you mutter. “I didn’t notice him.” 

“Who? The Shepard?” 

You nod and he shrugs, “He’s a hard bastard to notice. It ain’t your fault.” 

“That’s not an excuse. I should’ve sensed him. . . somehow.” 

He chuckles softly, his fingers idly tracing patterns in the dirt. "Well, you know, I've got the devil's luck. Besides, I've got you to watch my back. When I’m with you I’m more alert, darlin’."

“So you really do think I’m incompetent?” 

Sitting by the fire, you both share the bottle, taking turns. You can't help but notice how the flickering firelight plays across Jack's features, casting his rugged face in a warm, inviting glow. You feel slightly ashamed for how you’re acting. Deep down you know this has nothing to do with Jack thinking you’re not good enough, but with the growing knot in your stomach, you need to divert your emotions into something more violent. 

“The only thing I know is that I wanna protect you more than I want to do myself.” 

Your heart skips a beat, your breath suddenly coming in short and fast. You swallow around the knot quickly forming in your throat. 

"Well, aren't you just a regular knight in shining armor?" you huff in mock annoyance, attempting to lighten the weight of his words. 

But Jack doesn't take the bait this time. Instead, he surprises you with a genuine, soft smile. "You're strong, no doubt about it. But even the strongest folks deserve a bit of pampering now and then, don't they?"

You're momentarily taken aback by his sincerity, the hint of vulnerability. Jack reaches out and gently brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch feather-light.

"Jack, you don't have to treat me like I'm made of glass," you murmur, your irritation fading as you meet his warm gaze.

He leans in a little closer, his voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes drop to his lips and move back to meet his gaze again."I know you're tough as nails, but that doesn't mean I can't be here for you. We all need someone to lean on, sugar."

You find yourself lost in his eyes, the flickering firelight dancing in them, and for a moment, you let your guard down.

"You're a fucking nightmare,” you smile, heart rapid in your chest. “Kiss me."

The chaos, the darkness, the shadows—all of it stands still. Jack closes the distance, soft lips covering yours, his tongue traces the seam of your lips. He’s not at all how you imagined. He’s not rushing you. Instead, he’s taking his sweet time memorizing the curve of your lips with the tip of his tongue. 

Only when you moan does he slip his tongue between your swollen lips, licking himself further into your mouth. He cradles your face with both hands, thumbs moving down as if tracing tear streaks down your cheeks. 

Neither of you notices the thick fog starting to accumulate around you. A sinister whisper crackling within the gray. It settles around you. Listening to your needy whimpers and Jack’s groans—it observes, takes in the desire reflected in your features, and shapes begin to form. 

The fire goes out with a loud sizzle. 

“Fuck—” Jack hisses, pulling away, hand moving to grab his gun. He pulls you close. You’re still tasting him on your lips, dazed and confused as to what’s happening. There’s a moment of silence between you two, your surroundings illuminated only by the lanterns. 

The fog is unnaturally thick. You hear sounds; breathy and intoxicating. The voices grow louder, a tingle spreads over the back of your neck, and you notice that they’re oddly familiar—

Your cheeks burn when you notice they’re the sound of your moans. Both Jack’s and yours. The shapes are still forming, only mere silhouettes of two people perched on top of a log, their poses the same as yours.  

“Eidolon Veil,” you mumble, drawing Jack’s attention to you. “I heard of it, never actually saw it before.” 

“What is it?” he grunts a response, hand still on your waist. “And why the hell is it moanin’?” 

“It’s harmless,” you answer. “It’s a reflective fog that takes the shape of those within its circle and mimics their desires as well.” 

Jack snorts, lowering his gun, “So what, you’re tellin’ me this mist is gonna show us fuckin’ like rabbits soon?” 

You turn to him, a hint of mischief in your eyes, “If that’s what you desire, then yes,” you grin. “Though the image becomes vivid only if the people actually go through with it. If not it’ll only show a preview and move on to its next target,” you raise an eyebrow at him. “You really don’t know what it is?” 

“I don’t research the creepy crawlies as much as you do,” he croaks. “Are you sure it’s harmless? In this world nothin’ is.” 

“I think it has to do with substance,” you say. “Desire keeps it from dissolving entirely. So it’s basically looking for food.” 

An especially sharp moan echoes from the mist and you involuntarily press your thighs together, arousal growing between your legs. Jack also shudders at the sound. He palms himself through his pants, your eyes dropping to where his cock strains against the thick fabric.

“Let's give it something to choke on then.” 

Throwing all caution into the wind, you two strip down eagerly, your mouths always a breath away. The figures within the fog become more tangible, you can see yourself clearly now, your face painted with want and arousal. You get on all fours and the mirage does the same, Jack is on his knees right behind you, hand slipping between your legs. He traces his fingers up and down soaked folds, circling your clit, you feel the heft of him over the curve of your ass. 

Your breath hitches as he pushes two fingers into you, electricity crackles over your skin, a moan parting your lips further. The mirage mimics every sound and movement, and watching it turns you on in a way you didn’t think was possible. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Jack coos. “Such a sight—and so darn wet.” 

He fucks his fingers deeper into you and pulls them out slowly. Jack leans over to kiss the skin between your shoulder blades, the movement of his fingers slow as he works you open. Your head falls and you arch your back, wanting more. He doesn’t stop until you’re a sopping, trembling mess. Slick drips down his fingers and all the way down to his wrists. 

When you look at the mirage, the Jack within the fog makes you taste yourself on his fingers. 

Your Jack hums pleasantly, pulling out, he traces the plush of your lips with wet fingers before slipping them into your mouth. You suck eagerly, your cunt fluttering at the lewdness of it. 

He cups your neck and pulls you up so that you’re flush against his chest, your pulse quickens as he presses his lips against your ear, “You think you can take me, darlin’?” he asks and kisses your cheek. 

“Y–Yeah,” you whimper, the fog echoing your answer. 

You haven’t gotten a good look at him yet but you do feel him. He’s thick and hard, dragging his cock up and down your slit. You shudder as the head catches against your clit, making you gasp. “You’re drippin’ sweetheart,” he says with a grin, breath tickling your neck. “And you’re shakin’, worried I’m too big?” 

His voice drips with sarcasm and glee, he teases your entrance with the head, smearing precome over the sensitive skin. You gasp and feel your nipples tighten, without thinking you spread your legs further. 

“Yes!” your mirage echoes your thoughts. You let out a deep exhale, blood rushing to your cheeks. “You’re so big, Jack—It won’t fit. . .” 

“Is that right now?” he murmurs, dragging the curve of his nose down your neck. “You say it. I want to hear your voice.” 

You clear your throat. Beads of sweat gather at your tailbone, “Y–You’re big,” you whimper and as a reward he cups both your breasts, playing with your nipples.  “I don’t know if it’ll fit. It’s been a while.” 

He takes a sharp inhale, “I’ll make it fit,” he growls, exhaling his breath simultaneously. 

With that, Jack sinks into you. 

He sucks on your neck and continues to gently pinch your nipples, waiting for your to adjust to his size. “That’s it,” he purrs, licking the salt from your skin. “You feel so good around me, sugar. Look at how fucked out you look already.” 

He holds your jaw and tilts your head up, you clench as you see yourself. He was right. You look utterly fucked out; kiss-swollen lips parted, chest heaving and glistening with sweat. 

“Jack,” you whimper. “Move, please.” 

“Okay, sweetheart,” he soothes you, lips pressing against your neck before letting you go. Your palms fall to the ground. “You’re made for me, pretty girl, don’t you forget it.” 

Before you can say anything, he pulls back his hips and slams into you with force. Your fingers dig into the soil, your body going rigid before becoming loose again. Jack fucks you thoroughly, slowing down while pulling out only to snap forward. He’s loud. Growls and grunts bouncing off of his clenched teeth, he holds on to your waist and the mirage echoes it. 

With every thrust, he knocks the air from your lungs. Pleasure swirls in your stomach, shirt circuits your brain. Your lips part wide with a series of moans, your breasts tingling. Your senses narrow on the way his cock fills you, how deep he is inside, and how you just want to scream—not his name necessarily, but something you can address him as. 

With both your and your mirage's moans getting louder and louder, your mind whirls. You’re gushing with every thrust, your orgasm rapidly building. 

Daddy, your mind suddenly shouts. Your body tenses, your cunt squeezing around him in away that it forces the slows of his thrust. Jack groans at the overwhelming tightness, his cock pulsing. You watch the mirrored reflection, see the veins popping in his neck, see the debauched look of his face. 

Daddy. 

“F-Fuck—” you rasp when Jack resumes his thrust, faster and harder than before. He smacks your ass, pain blossoming over the skin. 

Then suddenly you hear it. 

It’s your voice but not your lips that moves. 

“Again—Daddy—” the voice is strained, as if your replica is equally as embarrassed as you are. 

He stops and you see his confusion in the fog. “W-What?” he murmurs. You shake your head, your frustration growing as you press your lips tight together. Jack smoothes his palm over your back. “What did you just call me, sugar?” 

You clear your throat, “Technically it wasn’t me,” you say weakly. Jack smiles as he drags blunt nails down your skin, your body reacts and arches towards him. You sigh. “It was a mistake.” 

“Not it wasn’t,” he quips. “You said so remember? The thing about the veil mimicking our desires?” he doesn’t wait for your answer as he bends over, covering your body with his. He whispers, “You can call me, daddy, if you want to. I don’t mind, darlin’. In fact, I like it.” 

You nod and he slowly drags himself out, and equally slowly pushes back in, “Use your words.” 

“Yes, d-daddy,” you gasp, the word hits your tongue just right. 

Jack draws back again, satisfaction pooling in his eyes. He grins and a part of you can’t help but feel flustered. “That’s what I want to hear,” he kisses the back of your shoulder and continue to move inside of you. 

The sensation of his thick cock sliding in and out of you sends shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. You moan in pleasure as your orgasm builds with each thrust. He grips your hips, thrusting harder and faster as your orgasm nears its peak. You can barely keep your balance as the waves of pleasure wash over you in a glorious chorus of bliss.

“Oh—daddy—” you sigh, your tongue loose. The fog picks up your moan, echoing your words. You bite your lip as his hands move from your hips to your chest, massaging your breast with each thrust. 

“Look at that face,” he says with a moan, forcing your gaze up. “Gonna come for me, pretty girl?” he teases. You nod helplessly, your body burning from the inside out. “Then ask for it, sugar.” 

“P-Please, daddy, make me come,” you moan, you’re pleasantly helpless under him. “Pleasepleaseplease—” 

With one final thrust, you tip over the edge; your orgasm rattles through your body accompanied by a series of groans and daddy’s. Adrenaline rushes through your system—your toes curl, your neck arches and your eyes roll back as pleasure washes through you. 

The mirage echoes every sound as Jack pumps his cum into you. He lifts you by the shoulder, forcing your head towards him as he claims your lips in a heated kiss. He swallows your moans, your whimpers and sucks your tongue until you’re compeltly pliant against him. 

Once he’s finished, the fog starts to dissipate until it’s only the two of you, lying in the dirt, panting, the fire alive once again. Jack kisses the top of your head before pulling out, and you look away, his spend drips from you, making a mess between your thighs, your face heats up. 

He tenderly cradles the side of your. Jack smiles and you can’t help but smile as well, burying your face into his palm. 

“That was—damn,” you manage to say. You blink and sit up, looking around you. There’s nothing but darkness and the sound of crickets. 

“Seems like your daddy took care of you,” Jack purrs, pecking your lips before pulling you into an embrace. You glare at him as he nuzzles your neck. 

“If you mention that to anyone else I’ll kill you.” 

He laughs whole heatedly, “I don’t kiss and tell, sweetheart. Don’t you worry that pretty head of yours.” 

“So the Eidolon Veil moved on,” you say, changing the subject. “I guess it was well fed.” 

“It seems like it,” he responds, kissing your forehead. Your heart flutters. “C’mere, let’s get you dressed before you catch a cold. We still have a whole lot of investigatin’ to do tomorrow.”

“Can’t we just stay like this? A little longer?” 

He kisses your temple this time, his warmth seeping into your back. “‘Course we can, darlin’.” 

You lean into his embrace and he manages to pull one of the blankets from his pack, covering you. Your eyes trail the stars in the sky. 

Little moments of peace like this are worth savoring just a bit longer.

[fuckyeahhistorycrushes]

GASPARE PACCHIEROTTI! (1740-1821)

One of the greatest castrato opera singers of all time, perhaps exceeding Farinelli. Not only a virtuoso possessed of a huge vocal range from soprano to tenor, able to sing any style with great taste and sensitivity to the intention of the composer, a consummate actor, with great intelligence and judgment about drama and music, but also a pleasant, kind, and gentle person, modest to a fault. All the biographers write in praise of his character, and in Susanna Burney's diaries (quoted extensively in Linda Kelley's Susanna, the Captain & the Castrato, in which Pacchierotti is so cute it's criminal, GAH) a portrait emerges of a sweet, shy, and also funny and charming man with a good word for everybody, a serious dedication to his craft, lifelong struggles with stage fright, and deep empathy.

He was also ugly. This didn't stop women from falling in love with him left and right. But he was embarrassed by it and didn't like portraits. The above portrait is flattering, but there are also plenty of surviving images that are... not.

In 2013 Pacchierotti was exhumed and studied by anthropologists. I was really sad to see the commentary around the internet circuit often leaned "freak show", leaning on lurid fascination with bodily difference (rather than similarity, which was also found by the study). He even got skull-shamed for having a weird face. Poor man is 200 years dead and people are still calling him ugly. This was a person who was a lot more than a physical oddity; we can no longer hear his voice, but we can remember his inner beauty.

"If he had not been a singer, he would probably have been a poet; for his ideas, even in current conversation, ran involuntarily into poetical imagery ... when he was highly animated in conversation, the effusions of his imagination resembled his cadences in music, by their excursionary flights, and impassioned bursts of deep, yet tender sensibility. ... Timidity and animation seemed to balance his disposition with alternate sway; but his character was of a benevolence that had no balance, no mixture whatsoever." -Memoirs of Doctor Burney, by Frances d'Arblay

[seconddoubt]

Hiiii for the album ask: The Top - The Cure & Nevermind - Nirvana ⭐️

hiii thank you <3

Nevermind:

my favorite lyric: breed, it has everything, pleasant phonetics, whimsy but the funny answer is because i'm anti-natalist

Even if you have, even if you need I don't mean to stare, we don't have to breed We could plant a house, we could build a tree I don't even care, we could have all three

my favorite song: basic bitch answer but it's without a doubt lithium

the song that makes me cry: none

the song that’s a fucking bop: smells like teen spirit and stay away

the song i most dislike/least love: might be smells like teen spirit for being so overplayed, like it's OBVIOUSLY a fantastic song but i've just heard it so much and in every kind of context that it gets grating, but otherwise, considering it's a hidden track would it be cheating to say endless, nameless?

The Top:

ok brace yourself for the long answers.

my favorite lyric: the lyrics throughout this album are sooo good, the shrooms really came through, it flirts with surrealist imagery which is something i love so much (also i'm always interested in recs for surrealist lit, poetry and prose) so you know this hits the spot, i do think these lyrics from give me it are my favourite though:

Slit the cats like cheese Then eat the sweet sticky things Suck harder! suck harder! Suck your insides Insides out!

i wrote a whole trauma dump story as to why it resonates with me that i deleted but the gist of it is this reminds me of a nightmare i once had.

but god i am weak so here are some honourable mentions:

from birdmad girl:

Night time night time Sets my house on fire I’ll turn into the melting man I’ll lose my life To feel I feel desire Oh I should feel Like a polar bear… It’s impossible She flies outside this cage Singing girlmad words I keep her dark thoughts deep inside As black as stone And mad as birds

from piggy in the mirror:

I’m trapped in my face and I’m changing Too much I can’t climb out the way I fell in

from caterpillar girl:

Caterpillar girl Flowing in And filling up my hopeless heart Oh never, never go I dust my lemon lies With powder pink and sweet The day I stop is the day you change And fly away from me

the top (as in the song), all of it

my favorite song: toss up between birdmad girl and piggy in the mirror

the song that makes me cry: usually none but i know i broke down once to this album and that time give me it was the breaking point

the song that’s a fucking bop: caterpillar girl was the single for a reason!

the song i most dislike/least love: what kind of evil question is this :C gun to my head maybe dressing up? no fuck this listening to it now. none of them, brilliant no skip album.

[trolagygirl2022]

please I cant count how much 2 baddies and 1 porsche makes me cringe in fact any song that mention brand name or car name, just gives me the ick it seem kinda childish or overdone. even lisa song I think shes more good at fashion and conceptual based imagery than coming up with actual flow. flower is more my fave song in comparison bc i can listen to the whole song of jisoos with ease so its more pleasant for my ears to take

money for exampke was harsh to listen to except for that one segment that i think is the viral part of the song "my money moves" and so on was my fave bit. so in a way i do get why songs go viral for just that one part however i wish i could like the whole song rather than just one aspect of it and songs a getting too short for me to fully get into it. sometimes i also find skz music quite harsh on my sensitive ears. i want to love them as a group and i think theyre so funny and adorable / talented to watch as a whole but their songs just dont hit my vibes at all, currently ateez are my main loves but even their songs dont always hit and i think its more so the production (sorry joong i just dont like autotuned vocals in songs ok it only works for some instances not all of them. also im still waiting for more san solo stuff)

my problem with kpop as a whole is generally groups are getting too young thus so is their songs and its genuinely hard for me to find actual need to hard core stan a group if theyre like teens to early 20s bc i have such a huge age gap from them, come on kpop dont be like stale bread... and as older or same age groups go into military i kind of have to find someone else to follow in the mean time or i tend to find im prefering older music than current modern i guess tiktok related music.

my qualm with general music today compared to older music is i think i like how organic older music is or was in comparison, it was more naturally made than a computer made song not that they arent talented at what they do it just doesnt always vibe with me or sometimes the lyrics can be really off when u try to read them in english yet at the same time i get why these songs go viral but its not for the simple pleasures of listening to a good quality song. i think kpop when it sees what someone else is doing is popular someone else tries to replicate it instead of bringing something new or fresh in i actually think its terrified of being too individual and not standing out or not being viral

its kinda why ateez caught my attention and the mfs did just that (if only they had been an older age group sighhhhhhhhhhh) i love their concepts and overall talents oml theyre such an endless group with not having too many members (sorry nct but i forget ur names after the first 5 members ok) like theres often bits of songs i will skip but then i feel bad for not liking the entire song or thinking what i wouldve done or added differently to make it sound a better song or what english word i wouldve switched and so on just so it would rhyme better maybe thats what kpop lacks i like that it includes some random english lyrics but it often make no real sense to me

not like how id feel if i listened to green day or another familiar song where i already get the gist of the lyrics that have slightly better flow than some korean songs theyre not all bad its just not often as hit of a song as they might think it is if thst makes sense? sometimes it do be just the name or face of idol that make the song more relevant than what it deserves peekaboo is good example of nice flow and high note mix so is some of nct earlier songs or even jopping is catchy song as a whole its more listenable than their latest.

sorry for rambling hehe.

Idk but I LOVED money, I think it's better than Lalisa. Yeah I know it's not the best lyrically but it's too catchy, plus the dance is so fun! But yeah, I agree with you a lot. I like SKZ as a group but some of their songs are a bit too much for me. My favorite songs would be Domino, LALALA and Miroh. I think that their older work was better than what they're pumping out. (Sorry but their album with 5 Star was not it 😵‍💫 it was too obnoxious to my taste). Sure LALALA can be found obnoxious but idk, I think it's at a minimum, plus the instrumental is so freaking good! Yes I love ATEEZ!! I think they are a good example of more "unusual" songs that keep it to a minimum. The system is becoming like McDonald's, cheap stuff that don't leave you feeling the best after and takes your money (that's why Wendy's is better 😛). The NCT part is so true 😭 I usually listen to their songs if there is a part that's catchy but the rest of the song can be... well!

[bradysbigblog]

wow... @teaboot This is pretty close to Aphantasia, it's the inability or diminished ability to create mental imagery.

When it comes to mental math, math you do in your head not on paper, A LOT of anecdotal reports that people with Aphantasia fundamentally do different equations in their heads. You just asked for a random string to remember but I wonder how you would work out a problem like this. Just look at it and then look away and try to do the problem. 45 x 27 There's going to be a division of people who visualize the old school paper way they taught you with long math. (I'll do this in word form so as to not spoil or mess with the equation above) seven times five, then seven times four while adding the remainder. Proceed to two times five and four and add em together and boom you get the answer. A very funny thing is I ran into a site where a guy with Aphantasia talks about how he does this problem and I wonder if it'll be close to what you'd say.. Page break for his explanation of how he does his math.

To quote Alex "

People who can’t see images obviously can’t picture doing the equation on paper. So how do they do it? There’s a bit more variation here, and it tends to be harder to explain.

I can tell you how I do it: I use my ‘verbal’ brain as something like short-term memory. Verbal memory seems to serve as a small amount of ‘scratch space’, so if I say something in my mind it bounces around for a bit and I can summon it back after thinking about something else. It’s similar to repeating something someone said while you weren’t paying attention; it floats in the background for a few seconds and you can summon it back during that time. There is also some amount of pattern-matching going on, where certain numbers look familiar and comfortable, like the 2×45 in the above equation, which immediately feels familiar.

So the process of doing the multiplication above goes something like this in my internal dialogue1

1which is not literally a dialogue, but feels like using the same part of my brain as speech. Probably there are people who don’t have this also, and there’s probably an obscure term for it. ↩ :

45 times 27… let’s see… [subconcious realization that it’s going to be easier to multiply 45(20+7) than (40+5)(27) because 2×45 looks ‘pleasant’] 45 times 2 is 90, moved over one, so that’s 900 …7 times 45 is… let’s see.. 7 times 4 is 28, so that’s 280 7 and 5 is 35, so those give [verbally remembering the 280, and recognizing 28 + 3 = 31] … 315 [now I can still hear the 900 from a second ago too, so grab that back] and so 900 plus 315 is … [9 and 3 summons 12, and the rest feels like it can be copied over] …1215

The text here is slightly subvocalized, and I can feel how it invokes the muscles that would do the speaking if I said it out loud. I guess I compute math by talking to myself. The realizations in []s are things that happen automatically, seemingly through instant pattern recognition – I’ve done a lot of math in my life, and a lot of math in my head, and I guess my brain comfortably knows that 2 times 45 is a comfortable calculation that won’t take a lot of effort. I could do 4 times 27 if I needed to, but my brain seems to prefer smaller numbers."

I need to explain a concept I've talked about before but to prove my point I need someone to comment a random string of numbers between seven and sixteen digits long

[pettybookreviews]

Are you petty, and feeling unheard?

If you love reading but some small, unimportant issue leaves you feeling detected, you've come to the right place.

I'm an avid fantasy fiction reader, with a passion for collecting beautiful novels and books.

I am a late twenties something, passionate fiction reader and wannabe writer. Ideas and opinions are like flies, buzzing around in my head all day but never escape the confines of my cranium. I have finally worked up the courage to create this blog to help me convey an issue that I am severely passionate about, pettiness.

Many novels have sucked me into their folds, drifted me along on their sweet narratives, and lulled me to sleep with pleasant imagery. But they can ruin it with one word, or action that the author may have overlooked, yet my anxiety riddled mind will cling white-knuckled to it forever, or better yet, till someone agrees with me and I am justified in my petty.

Give me an F, give me an A, I'm not going to do it all, you get it, it's Fantasy

The majority of my spare time is reading fantasy novels. We are not excessive but I adore her and always come back for more. Most of my reviews will be on any form of fantasy, and I am always looking forward to recommendation if you have them!

It's gotta be Gay

As a member of the alphabet spaghetti myself, I want to read about what the gays are doing and how they are expressing their talents to the world. This will be a LGBTQIA+  positive space, where we can freely express ourselves without judgement or rude comments. Fantasy is a hard genre to find the gays among all the old cis white men. It won't be 100% gay, but I want to see us take over this space.  

#book #book review #petty #funny #reading #blog #books #fantasy #lbgtq rights

#lgbt pride #lgbtq community

[lowkeyerror]

Pawn pt 2

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: Violence

Summary: Things are as normal as they can be while being locked for Harley and Y/n. The normality doesn't last for long, when the pair is forced to be apart of Task Force X.

Pt1 Pt3

Masterlist

After the shower, the rest of the day was uneventful. The days that followed were the same. The only thing that kept Y/n sane, was Harley.

This room was much smaller than the cage they originally had Harley in. However, that didn't stop her from setting up her swing. Y/n could watch Harley twirl around in the makeshift rope for hours, without being bored.

When something eventful finally did happen, two weeks into their stay at Belle Reve, it wasn't pleasant.

Harley and Y/n sat in the room as usual. Nothing particularly exciting was happening. Then without warning their door was forced open.

A large group of guards awaited orders from Flag, who stood in front of them. He looked at the pair and a flash of sympathy appeared and disappeared within seconds.

" Do it."

His words triggered the guards. They flooded into the tiny room, roughly seizing the women. They strapped them into chairs and wheeled them out of the room.

Both women were startled, but Harley had it worse. She fought violently against the restraints. Imagery of her past filling her mind every second.

Y/n wanted to protest, to protect Harley, but it was impossible. The restraints were on their legs, abdomen, wrist, across their mouths, and neck. Mobility was severely limited.

Y/n was mortified as she watched her girlfriend struggle. It was twisted. They put the pair right in front of each other. Harley cried out, begging them to stop this.

The woman across from the blonde had wide eyes when she saw a needle being prepped. That's when Y/n lost it, violently thrashing against the restraints. Not caring about the burns and scratches that would later liter her body.

She was so focused on Harley, that she didn't even notice a needle being prepped for her as well. Y/n didn't get to see them jab the needle into Harley because by then she had passed out. They had injected the bomb into Y/n first, which sedated her immediately.

Seeing her girlfriend's body go limp was terrifying for Harley to watch. She only lived in fear a few more seconds before she was out, just the same.

Flag hated watching that interaction. It was heartbreaking and while guards joked about it, Flag found nothing funny.

" Stop your fucking teenage girl giggling and load them up." The guards moved swiftly as his command rang out.

" Lighten up Flag," Griggs comments.

Flag glares heavily at the lesser man. The smile slowly retracts from Griggs face. He felt himself begin to sweat under Flag's gaze. Flag walked up to Griggs, shoulder checked him, and then kept walking.

When Flag walked out the truck they had put the women in, he paused. He went to the back, where the pair was loaded and stared at them for a minute.

The colonel let out a sigh as he hopped in the back of the truck. He undid the restraints around the mouths of the girls. He was going to leave it at that, but hesitated. Flag turned back around and undid one arm on each woman.

Only then did he exit the truck, giving the driver the signal that everything was good. Flag watched the truck drive away until he couldn't see it anymore. Once it was out of sight, he got back to work.

Y/n regained consciousness about halfway through the ride. She noticed her hand was free almost instantly. She undid the rest of the latches with her free hand before moving to do the same with Harley's.

She held her girlfriend in her arms waiting for her to wake up. Y/n passed the time by tracing over some of Harley's tattoos.

The 'ROTTEN' written across her jaw always incited a flicker of rage for Y/n. She'd been forced to get that tattoo. Something about a punishment from the Joker.

Harley's nose scrunched up when Y/n's thumb padded across the heart on her cheek bone. Harley's eyes fluttered open. She stared into Y/n's briefly before her hand reached for the woman's neck.

Her fingers trailed over the spot she saw them inject. Y/n grabbed her hand, kissing her fingers. " I'm ok, are you ok?"

Harley did the same thing to her own neck, " Not my first time being injected with something against my will. I'll live."

The truck came to a stop after what had seemed like hours. When the doors opened they already had weapons pointed at Harley and Y/n.

" How'd they get out their restraints?"

These weren't Belle Reve guards, these were soldiers.

" Doesn't matter, bring them over to the rest."

The soldiers were a little more gentle with the pair. They walked them over to a group of other Belle Reve intimates.

The intimates, including Harley and Y/n, were surrounded by soldiers. Everyone stretched a bit as they were free from their restraints.

" Hi, boys. Harley Quinn, how do you do?"

They stared at the woman. Y/n crossed her arms over her chest.

" Huh? What was that? I should kill everyone and escape. Sorry. It's the voices," Harley chuckles a little," I'm kidding! Jeez. That's not what they really said."

Y/n brings her fist to her mouth to cover up her laughter. She nudged her girlfriend," Harley, you're going to scare them."

Harley smirked at her girlfriend," Maybe they should be scared."

Attention doesn't stay on Harley too long as Captain Boomerang emerges from an aircraft bag. Then Slipknot arrives in an SUV.

Harley raises her hand, " I'm known to be quite vexing, just forewarning you."

" Listen in your necks, that injection you got is a nanite explosive. Size of a rice grain, but as powerful as a hand grenade. You disobey me, you die. You try to escape, you die. You otherwise irritate or vex me, and guess what? You die."

Y/n playfully slaps the woman's hand down and smiles nervously at Flag, " She's kidding."

Flag goes on to say something about a suicide mission. That death is certain and that until then, the group will be following his orders.

He exchanges a few words with Floyd before motioning for the group to get what they need for a fight.

Harley squeals when she opens a trunk with her things. She immediately goes for her weapons.

Y/n frowns seeing all the attire from the Joker in Harley's chest. When Y/n opens her case her eyes shift to the vials containing precious metals.

They fit perfectly on the belt of her black cargo pants. She decided to keep the ' Burn After Use' shirt from Belle Reve on. The black bomber jacket she worse was similar to Harley's blue and red one.

" Baby, you got an extra shirt in there for me? I ain't wearing the ones in the box."

That made Y/n smile. She dug through the chest a bit and pulled out a plain white long-sleeve that had 'Harley' scrawled across the front in red and blue letters.

" I remember when you gave me this shirt for my birthday," Y/n chuckles.

" Well how else were the people supposed to know you were off the market." Harley casually removes her shirt which grabs the men's attention.

Y/n tries to shield the girl," Don't y'all have something more important to do."

They then get back to work. Once Harley is properly clothed she strolls over to the rest of the team, dragging Y/n along with her.

Harley engaged with small talk with the boys while Y/n just listened in.

" Hey if you like a girl can you light her cigarette with your pinkie? Cause that would be really classy"

" I could do that for you, sweetheart," Y/n jumps into the conversation.

" I was wondering what you were doing here? Thought you were just the cheap party clown's bitch," Digger taunted.

Y/n's hand rested by her belt. Carefully without making the movement too obvious she tapped the titanium.

Her hand was around the Australian's throat in seconds. Unlike when she was in Belle Reve she allowed the people around her to see the metal coat her skin.

She lifted the man high in the air applying pressure to his windpipe. With her other she snapped her fingers creating a few sparks.

" Lots of talk coming from a man who plays with children's toys," Y/n's eyes burn into his.

" As much as I'd love to let you continue, you're gonna have to drop him," Flag places a heavy hand on Y/n's shoulder.

She releases the man in the air and he thuds against the dirt floor.

" I'd watch my mouth if I were you," Harley giggled, kicking some dirt in his face.

Once Captain Boomerang sorted himself out, Flag pulled out a tablet. Waller spoke directly to everyone. The options weren't glamorous, they were real. Succeed and still be a prisoner or die.

This was another one of those lose-lose situations Waller was so good at creating. That made Y/n think. Waller only worked to benefit one person, herself. This in some way had to be about her in Y/n's mind.

Harley and Y/n board the helicopter hand in hand. Once things were set for takeoff a Japanese woman carrying a sword strode onto the helicopter.

She said some things in Japanese that it seemed only Flag understood.

" I'd advise not getting killed by her. Her sword traps the souls of its victims."

Harley did what she does best, which was try to make light of an unfortunate situation. The woman unsethed her sword causing Y/n to tense. Flag got her to settle down.

" How'd you end up here, Y/n?" Floyd spoke from his seat next to the girl.

" Since when do you ask intrusive questions Floyd?"

" You two know each other," Harley gestures between the two.

Floyd and Y/n share a glance.

" Floyd was a mentor of sorts to me way back when," Y/n huffed out.

Harley's eyes darted between them," Is that why you were such a Debbie downer when I found you?"

" I prefer the term professional."

Harley snorted," Baby how many times do I have to tell you, there's no right way to be a criminal. Unless you're fucking Robin Hood or something we're all bad guys."

Floyd chuckles, " I take it that she got you in this predicament."

" I'd rather be here with her than free and alone."

" That sounds stupid," Boomerang injects himself in the conversation.

Y/n's fists clench, but Harley slips her hand into the woman's.

" You'd have to have someone who cares about you to really get it, Digger," Floyd nods his head at the two of them.

The city was desolate. Floyd questioned it, but Rick told him some standard terrorist bullshit. It was a script, every prisoner on the plane knew it.

Lying to professional liars and con artists was a strange tactic. None of them really understood the purpose of the lie until the plane was shot out of the sky. The crash wasn't anything too crazy, everyone came out unscathed.

Things took a turn after the crash. Slipknot tried to escape and Flag kept true to his words earlier in the day. The man's head exploded before he could get too far.

Being one man down after the Slipknot fiasco sparked some nerves in everyone. There was some petty tension between Floyd and Flag. Two leaders with massive egos squaring off.

Those nerves only intensified when they saw the enemies. They weren't terrorists, no one knew what they were.

However if there was one thing this specific group of criminals loved to do, it was get violent.

Floyd went ahead with soldiers trying to get something out of Flag. It only took a few moments for a fight to break out. Not between Floyd and Flag, but the unidentifiable enemies versus the squad.

The soldiers scrambled.

The criminals stood their ground. Harley pulled out her guns, Croc took off his hood, and Y/n had her already absorbed the most precious metal on her belt.

" Be careful," Y/n said to Harley.

Harley simply smirked," You know I shoot to kill, sweetheart."

True to her word Harley began taking head shots on the monsters.

Y/n let tungsten coat her skin. The pure metal caused her skin to appear grey and shiny. She began swinging for heads as well.

Every time Y/n's fists connected with a monster's head, that was the end of the monsters. The crystal-like substance, not standing a chance against Earth's strongest metal.

There was a quiet primal nature that was surfacing every time Y/n hit a target. It was almost as if the world slowed down and made the next target clearer for her to headhunt.

The soldiers were trying their best, but it was the criminals who truly fought the good fight. They were all in their element, especially Floyd.

The man gunned down an entire army of those creatures on his own at the apex of the fight. Many of the soldiers stopped to watch just how precise his shots were.

In that small frame of time Flag got ambushed. About five or six of the creatures worked to take him down.

Y/n and Harley both had eyes on him. Harley with a smug smile on her face, while Y/n looked hesitant.

" Good riddance."

Floyd yelled at the pair," If he dies, we die."

That was enough for the couple to snap out of their respective states. Harley swung for the fences, while Y/n punched their heads clean off.

They help him to his feet, once the monsters are cleared. He looks at the pair before speaking," Thanks."

Harley lets out a frustrated," Shut up," Then re-enters the fray.

Y/n just give the captain a stiff nod, before going after her girlfriend. Harley expresses her frustration towards Flag by slamming her bat into the head of one of the dead enemies. She does it over and over again.

" Harley," Y/n says softly the first time. The clown doesn't hear her, in that rage fueled spot in her mind. Y/n tries again this time her voice, more stern," Harley."

The clown lets the bat clatter to the floor. Y/n wraps her arms around the clown from behind. Harley places her hands on her girlfriend's. The hard metallic skin melted away at her touch.

" I saw it move… it flinched… I think," her tone softens as she speaks to Y/n.

" I've got you," is all that Y/n responds with.

Harley takes a deep breath and nods a few times to reassure herself.

" See that princess, when the fight is over, that's when you're allowed to be useless," Digger aims the comment at Diablo.

The Latin man keeps his cool," It's better this way, trust me."

Digger just laughs in his face and pulls out a lighter. " Well lookie here, it's fire. Wooo."

They don't get to finish their argument before one of Flag's soldiers begins to interrogate the colonel.

" The brief said terrorist. Wanna start explaining this?"

Flag deflects expertly," If I told you would you believe me?"

" What are they?" Harley asks, still wrapped up in Y/n's arms.

Flag answers a little too quickly," I don't know."

Floyd calls him out instantly," That's bullshit. That thing has on a $3,000 watch. Is that a person?"

Flag answers back," It was, now it's not."

Flag tries to check Digger for taking something from the rubble, but Croc comes to the Aussies defense. Flag turns away from the pair, insisting that they keep moving forward.

There's a new level of distrust between Flag and the entire team. Not just the criminals, but his own men as well.

As the group advances to the mission objective point, Harley sees a bag that she wants in a store display. Without hesitation she smashes the glass and grabs the bag.

The soldiers are quick to point their weapons at her. Y/n stands in front of the girl faster than they turn.

" Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you," Flag says to the clown.

Harley shrugs," We're bad guys, it's what we do."

The exasperated look in Flag's eyes said enough. Everyone continued walking towards the large glass building. Floyd made sure to catch up with Flag. It was like they were both leading the team.

When everyone finally got inside the building, Harley pulled Y/n away from the group.

" We're taking a shortcut cupcake," she nods over to the glass elevator.

Y/n let Harley guide her to the elevator. They got in and Harley set the destination. A loud ding echoes through the building alerting the others.

Harley waves as the elevator rises past the team. Y/n has a sly smile on her face as her back leans against the glass.

" Finally, some alone time," Harley turns her focus to Y/n.

The woman giggles as she places a sweet kiss on Y/n's lips.

" They can see through the glass," Y/n points out.

Harley kisses her again, this time her lips linger," Let's give 'em a show then."

Y/n's hands firmly squeeze Harley's waist, igniting something in the woman.

Y/n kisses Harley's neck with vigor. The clown tilts her head back giving Y/n more access to suck, bite, and lick the area. Y/n makes sure leave a harsh bite near Harley's pulse point, which causes the woman to let out a small whimper.

Y/n soothes the area slightly with her tongue, before sucking harshly on it again. Harley hungirly captures Y/n's lips, grabbing the sides of her face to bring them closer together.

Y/n's grip on Harley's waist loosens, so that her hand can snake around to the front of the woman's shorts. Y/n slips her hand down between Harley's thighs, her fingers only lightly graze the woman's clit through her panties.

It's not a second later that something falls through the roof. Harley growled, instantly punching the monster and then shooting it without a second thought.

" I fucking hate these little shits," she fixes her hair and the reflection from the elevator.

Y/n sees it before Harley does. She moved the clown out of the way just in time for another one of the creatures to crash through the side of the elevator.

Y/n was able to snatch the creature by the neck as it was falling into the elevator. As she chokes it, she stomps on its foot causing it to growl at her.

Harley uses this position to her advantage. With Y/n's reinforced grip holding that thing in place, Harley picks up her bat and swings at its head.

The head shatters like glass and Y/n lets the headless body hit the floor.

Harley tries to blow a wisp of her hair in place after the blind attack. Y/n uses her finger to delicately fix Harley's out of place hair.

" We're so fucking hot aren't we?"

Harley pulls Y/n into her yet again and Y/n lets out a genuine laugh as she hugs the smaller woman.

"Absolutely," Y/n leans down to kiss Harley.

Just as their lips meet the elevator opens. The couple look up to see their teammates ready to fight.

" Hey guys," Harley steps over the mess in the elevator. Y/n follows her lead, enjoying the view of Harley walking in front of her.

Y/n briefly stops to look at the team," You guys coming or what?"

Eventually the team regains their composure enough to follow the two women. Flag retakes his place at the head of the pack, Floyd right by his side.

As they approach an office area, Flag raises his fist," Hold."

" I don't like this Flag."

" I don't like it either," Flag responds to Floyd.

There's a small beat before Floyd slips on his Deadshot mask. Harley and Y/n both smirk at the action.

" Guess more people are dying today," Y/n says.

" Pussy," Harley follows.

" I will knock y'all asses out. I don't not care that y'all are girls. Y/n knows that."

They drop in through the roof similar to the elevator. The fighting is more hectic than when it was on the street. While the criminals can hold their own, the enemies once again team up on Flag.

Floyd calls the play and the members of Task Force X, excluding Diablo, circle the colonel.

" Let me fight, let me fight!"

Floyd reminds the man," You die, we die."

They move from one area of chaos to the next. The fight seems never-ending. Y/n brings Harley close to her side once she sees Floyd antagonizing Diablo.

" You're not turning into ashes on my watch," Y/n says more to herself than to Harley.

The men start yelling and before Floyd can go any further Diablo shoots out way more fire than Y/n had imagined. The enemies and part of the building burn up in flames.

Y/n can see that Harley is mesmerized by the fire. When Diablo stops, Y/n lets Harley go.

The woman runs to Diablo and places a kiss on his cheek," I knew you'd come through."

Digger shoots a look at Y/n," Now personally, I wouldn't take that."

Y/n shoves the man," Shut up."

Harley skips right back to Y/n's sides and locks their fingers together. She places a kiss on her girlfriend's cheek," I know you get jealous."

The pink tint on Y/n's face goes unnoticed due to the rising level of heat in the building. She's eternally grateful for that.

The soldiers use an explosive to blow a hole through the wall and into the stairwell. As they begin climbing up the stairs Harley stops. She peers down well and for a moment it seems like she's gone.

Y/n's standing there with her, hands still interlocked. This happens sometimes with Harley. It's best not to force her out of her head.

Flag and Floyd make an attempt to snap Harley out of it, but Y/n glares at them.

" We'll catch up."

They give a somber nod and continue up the stairs.

It's the single tear that falls from Harley's eye that breaks Y/n from her own thoughts. She's gentle as she wipes the tear from Harley's face.

The clown blinks a few times, before burying her head in her girlfriend's shoulder.

" I hate how he made me feel."

The words make Y/n clench her jaw. Her hatred for the Joker was insurmountable. It ran through her blood, she would always hate him for what he did to Harley.

" I thought I loved him."

Y/n shut her eyes. Images of the Joker flashed through her head. She had nearly beat him to death. Hit after hit, no powers, just pure, uncut, rage. Then the Bat showed up.

Justice this and justice that. The Bat knew Joker never lasted in Arkham, always out whenever he felt like leaving. He should be the one in Belle Reve. He should be the one of this suicide mission. Waller should blow his fucking head off and make society a better place.

Y/n felt Harley's hand rest on her face. The rage of the world flows through her gaze until her eyes met Harley's.

" The funny thing is, I didn't know what love was. Not until I met you."

" I love you too," Y/n kisses her forehead.

Harley blushes the vulnerability still fairly new to her. She clears her throat and diverts her eyes from her girlfriend's," Let's go, we're probably missing all the fun."

Harley takes off up the stairs. Y/n smiles to herself following after the girl.

When they reach the room that is supposed to have the individual they're saving in it, there's a shift in Flags demeanor. He makes the team stay behind while he goes and secures the person.

When Floyd feels like it's been enough time he goes in after Flag. When Floyd comes back out, the air stills.

Task Force X all tense. Harley lets the words 'no way' slip from her lips. Y/n just glares silently, her hands twitch at her sides. She wants nothing more than to crush Waller's skull as if it were one of the monsters they were facing earlier.

Flag speaks first," Let's go home."

For the first time in Y/n's eyes Digger says something sensible," Yeah, let's go home. Sounds good, you guys wanna go home? Hm? Or you wanna go back to prison?"

" We're not going back to prison," Harley signals between herself and Y/n. Her serious tone, a shift from the playful one that they're all used to.

" What I'm saying is, we kill the pair of 'em now, before they kill us."

Katana begins to unseth her sword, but Waller stops her. " I got this."

She pulls out the bomb detonator," Y'all made it this far, don't get high spirited on me and ruin a good thing."

The tension hangs in the air. Waller walks right through the group, shoulder checking Croc on her way pass.

Everyone glares as she continues walking. Croc is the one to break the silence," I like her."

In a more bitter mood than ever, everyone heads to the roof. There is a helicopter waiting to escort them wherever Waller deems fit.

A soldier makes a few calls to the pilot on the walkie, with no response.

Flag takes charge," The bird's been jacked… Light it up!'

The soldiers begin shooting at the helicopter, not having much effect as the gun from the chopper shoots back at them.

Y/n hears his laugh and her body tenses. The Joker's laugh, her eyes try to meet Harley's, but the woman isn't where she previously stood.

" HARLEY!"

The smoke from the gun fire clouds her vision as she frantically scans the roof for her lover.

" Y/-" Y/n hears the girl try to scream for her and sprints in that direction.

She doesn't have a full view, but she thinks she sees someone dragging Harley towards the plane. The woman looks to be thrashing, but not enough for the man to drop her.

Y/n doesn't care about the gunfire or Waller's screaming, all she cares about is getting to Harley. She's almost caught up when a group of Flag's soldiers get in her way.

" HARLEY," Y/n screams as she tries to fight through the men. Her hands reaching out to her girlfriend.

" Y/N, PLEASE," Harley's cries spur the woman on. She finds the strength to break through soldiers.

Joker laughs as he stands in the helicopter," Come on baby."

He tosses a rope down for the man to climb up. Harley kicks and screams and begs for her girlfriend to save her.

Waller starts yelling," Kill her!"

Y/n's blood runs cold. She makes a split decision that breaks her heart. She goes straight for Flag, knocking the device out of his hand.

Waller pulls out a gun and points it at Y/n. The woman's eyes were full of tears as she watched the burly man carry Harley into the helicopter. Harley's eyes are on Y/n's watering just the same.

Flag grabs Waller's gun before the woman can shoot," Her nanites disarmed, look."

A small relief washes over Y/n, but it's nothing compared to the agony ripping through her chest. She stands up and runs to the edge of the building.

The helicopter had already started to move, but the rope was still hanging. In her mind, Y/n could make the jump, she could get to Harley. In reality she couldn't, they were already too far away.

" GET HER," Waller barks at Croc and Digger.

Croc pins Y/n down and the woman struggles against him," LET ME GO. LET ME GO. I NEED TO SAVE HER. I NEED TO GET TO HER. LET ME GO. PLEASE. PLEASE."

Her pleas were desperate. She sounded like she was dying. Tears poured from her eyes and snot poured out of her nose as she cried for Harley.

" Love, you wouldn't have made that jump. It's impossible, you're going to get yourself killed, before you can get to her," Digger tries to calm the girl, but it isn't working.

She continues to try to escape Croc's hold.

" Please," the last plea is a whisper that dies on her lips.

"Deadshot, shoot that woman right now."

Y/n sees red when she hears Waller's orders. Enough anger to where she has the strength to move Killer Croc off of her.

Digger and Diablo work quickly to hold her by the arms.

" She ain't do shit to me," Floyd responds, his eyes dart to Y/n's.

The girl relaxes a bit. She knows that look. He may take the shot, but he'll miss. He's not going to shoot her.

The talk that follows is meaningless to her. Even when she sees Floyd line up the shot, she can tell he won't hit it.

" She was fucking kidnapped and you know that Waller," Y/n says through gritted teeth.

Waller's cold eyes bore into Y/n's," I told you before Y/n, you were just a pawn. Then two on that plane are the king and the queen. You just got sacrificed."

Y/n lunges at Waller, but she picks up the detonator," I don't think he did yours. Do you want to test that theory?"

Floyd takes the shot. Silence swiftly follows. Waller doesn't smile, but there's a glint in her eyes. That is until she sees the Joker showing off a very much alive Harley Quinn.

Floyd turns around and struts right up to Waller," I missed."

That was supposed to be the end of it, but Waller was sadistic. She calls for the plane to be shot down. There was nothing Y/n could do, but fall to her knees when she saw the missile hit the plane.

She wailed as she saw the helicopter turn into a ball of fire before crashing into a building. She felt her heart stop.

" Kill me, kill me, kill me, kill me," she kept repeating it as she crumpled onto the floor.

Her sobs, enough to make the grown men look away from her. Even Flag couldn't bear to look at the girl as the sounds of cries echo in the sky.

Floyd and the rest of the inmates try to at least get the girl to her feet, but the moment one of them touches her, she cries out even louder.

Waller tries to sick the soldiers on her, but they can't follow the orders.

" Kill me, like you killed her," Y/n spat at the woman.

" You have five seconds to get to your feet or I'll do it," Waller warned, but Y/n didn't move.

Waller began counting, the Task Force was basically begging Y/n to stand up, but without Harley the woman didn't have the strength.

Flag stops Waller and she tries to protest, but he snatches the remote from her. He walks over to Y/n with the remote in hand. He gets to her eye level.

" Now, do you think Harley wants that bitch over there to be the one to kill you," he says, low enough that Waller doesn't hear.

Y/n raises her eyes to glare at the black women, then turns her attention to Flag.

Flag tries to extend his hand, but Y/n pushes it away as she stands up," Get off of me."

Y/n doesn't say anything as Waller boards a different helicopter. She feels like the nanite already exploded in her neck; like she's walking around headless. No one tries to speak to her.

Her eyes stay glued to the helicopter as it flies off. She was going to kill the woman. It wasn't a prediction, it was a fact. Flag was right, Harley wouldn't be happy if Waller was the one to kill her.

The only way to do that was to kill Waller first. That's what Y/n was thinking when the helicopter got brought down. She watches as Waller's chopper plummets to the ground, skidding across the concrete.

Waller played the game like she wasn't at risk. The king never falls. However, what Waller failed to realize was that she wasn't the king. She was just moving the pieces and even the best players have games that end in a draw.

" That was for Harley."

Her voice was raw from screaming and crying, but her eyes were dead. They watched as Waller's helicopter burst into flames. Harley was always enamored by the flames.

" Hope that bitch burns."

[merrymockthejester]

In his thoughtless dreaming, the tiefling wore the colors of his lord in his clothing, vibrant shades of green and gold, red and black, stitched together in lines and shapes across the lines of his doublet and trousers. The weight of his horns heavy on his head, straining his neck where he laid with head full back, off of a hard edge of a wooden table so that the vision of the room around him was upside down. There was singing, it was cheerful and lively, a pleasant song praising the accomplishments of his great lord. The song broke to an abrupt end by a shrieking laugh and it was only then that the tiefling realized it had come from him, both the shrieking and the song.

(under cut for disturbing imagery, body horror, gore and torture...)

He could not see what his lord was doing but he could feel it, thick hands with hard fingers prodded at his organ flesh and the tiefling could only return to singing. A pit in his stomach grew, dark and black and wrenching, his insides twisted within a fist, mushing his liver into his spleen and into his intestines. The tiefling could no longer recall the words to the song though he still attempted to sing, words coming out in a singsong tone that made no sense at all, garbled with bloodied tongue as he drowned. He was drowning without even being in water, now wasn't that a funny thought.

It was now as he laid dying in this dream, that the tiefling saw a figure in his line of sight. The figure stood on the ceiling -- though it wasn't the ceiling at all, it only looked that way to the tiefling with his head upside down -- this dream visitor was so unfamiliar and it was so strange to see an unfamiliar figure on the ceiling so the tiefling looked at him and laughed. A bubble of blood crested out from crimson parted lips and popped.

Death had not come for the dying dreaming tiefling, however, for death was often defied in dreams and so despite the gruesome injuries, the tiefling did not die. His stubborn body insisted on living even now with his master's hands moving his organs around within his exposed torso as if he were a child playing with dolls in a giant play house. "Do you like what you see?" It was Merry's own voice that spoke and it was unclear whether he addressed his lord or his dream visitor. "Are you laughing? I can't hear you." Something filled his ears, the tiefling didn't know what it was.

Tennyson either had some innate knack for finding those in fitful sleep, or he just kept getting lucky. He chose the former, given that's how he seemed to build up his strength. Tonight, he was also the latter, seeming that every place he seemed to pass was enough for him to stay well hidden and sated, taking little bits of the fears of nightmares as he went.

This one, however, he seemed to hit the motherload.

Alcohol usually was enough to indicate someone was prone to all sorts of dreams, pleasant or otherwise. And, oftentimes, the person filled in any gaps with memories to help give him an idea on what could make them fearful. When Tennyson found his footing inside the dreams of this tiefling, it gave even him pause. His positioning enough when he found himself outside the window was enough to draw confusion, but the dreams didn't give him nearly enough answers. There was almost a distinction in size, between the man and this master, who seemed to constantly tower over the other like a giant, as he tormented his victim.

This might have been an easy night, if he had taken the time to disguise himself in the shadow of the other's dream sight. But Tennyson was so blindsided that he essentially stood in his full form, curiously looking through a barred door as he watched the helpless tiefling - highlighting one's memories was one thing, but this... this was on the extreme side of the night, and a voyeuristic voice in his head told him to stop and watch.

[yanderenightmare]

yandere bully ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, heavy dubcon, bordering on noncon, profanity, manipulation

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

SEVEN MINUTES IN HELL - PART TWO

TRUST ME

It's safe to say that Bakugo had gotten used to a certain lifestyle. 

Being top three in all years in the Hero-course, girls fawning, falling at his feet left and right, drooling, begging him to fuck them. 

Or… begging him to take them out on a date. 

But let’s be honest… no girls want to date him, they just want to ride his dick once a week. They just want to know what it feels like to be taken by a real man before halting, limping back to their clueless vanilla-boyfriends, all made up of soft smiles and warm hugs and nothing like Bakugo and how he spanks their girlfriend’s ass until blood leaks from popped veins and his name comes falling from their lips like tearful prayer.

Nowadays though, he’d had to kick more girls to the curb than he could count on both his hands without as much as getting his dick wet from the girl he’d picked for himself, the star that was once so bright and shining like a wild sunflower before he forced himself into her life. 

She seemed to have wilted, as she wouldn’t even spare him a second glance until he forced it from her.

Or… that was unfair. She was perfect, doing everything he asked, but… it wasn’t really willingly, now was it? 

All he needed was ask, but he knew she didn’t try to make him happy because she wanted to, she didn’t try and make him laugh because she wanted to, it didn’t come naturally as it did with others, she did it because she was scared shitless of what he would do if she didn’t.

It made him so unbelievable angry to see her laugh with others. Wrathful, vengeful even, when she buckled over and nearly fell, rolling on the floor in the pit of her humor, crying with how painfully she was wheezing. So furious because he couldn’t even blame her. He couldn’t blame her for preferring other people over him, other smiling laughing idiotic people, pleasant people as opposed to him and his aura of grumpiness. 

Some insouciantly greedy, almost evil, part of him whispered to him those times he saw her smile that genuine angel-bright smile, never with him, that perhaps if he simply took her, took her away, tucked her away more so than what he had already, that perhaps she’d have no choice but to share that light with his darkness, because supernova’s like her need things to shine for, they crave lighting people up, they’re just so fucking eager to please, and if he were the only one around to absorb all which she had to give, then she’d have no choice but to share.

It shouldn’t have been legal for him to demand more of her. 

She did everything he asked. 

She worked out with him, pushing herself to limits and extents she didn’t even know existed, almost until she barfed, almost until she collapsed, then praising his teaching-methods instead of admitting it was too much. 

She watches his movies, where she would contort the scary imagery of whatever horror or action movie Bakugo would put on the screen into the finest goriest comedy, cough up her lungs at the guts and brains leaking from sliced abdomens or cracked skulls, burry her face in his shoulder as she cried out laughter, instead of jumping into his arms like the scared little lamb she was supposed to be, begging him to turn it off and giving him an opportunity to slide his hand up her shirt. 

She studied with him, again gushing about what an amazing tutor he is instead of being honest by letting him know what an absolutely aggressive jerk he is, saying words she’d regret and have to find a way of apologising for, making it up to him in so many ways Bakugo lusted for, fantasised about when he laid next to her at night. 

She joined him with his friends, let him sleep in her bed, she even ate what and when he told her eat, dressed how he wanted her to dress, changed if he didn’t approve, cheered like his own personal perfect cheerleader at his battles, being probably the loudest person in the bleachers, making all the boys jealous of him, doing everything and more, and still, still it just wasn’t what he wanted, wasn’t what he needed.

And no, what he needed wasn’t her pussy served on a platter. 

What he needed was leverage. He needed reassurance, he needed her trapped, locked down, glued to him. He needed to know, to believe, to trust that he had her not just for now, but for as long as he wanted, forever. 

And having her in the most primal shameless way, showing her what he could give her, show her that he isn’t just a god on the battlefield but has those same godlike skills when it comes to making her see stars was how he intended to make her need him. 

Granted, he’s never actually made love like how she’d probably want to, but he’s fucked plenty of sluts to have confidence in saying that he knows the female body like the back of his hand. 

If he could just feel her melt beneath him, just make her unravel, wrap her around his pinky, just once and he would know, she wasn’t leaving him anytime soon, she wasn’t ever going to leave him, not unless she wanted her pretty pictures leaked.

Not that he would ever let anyone see her like that, that was just for him, but he doubted she would think too much of what he was willing to do or not. That’s the beauty of threats, they don’t need to be true for the outcome to be fruitful. 

Though, he really wished it didn’t come to that. 

No, once she gets a taste of what it feels like to be taken care of the way he would take care of her, when she wakes up from what fever-dream he’s given her with a mouthful of honey and the newfound realisation that with him is where she belongs, where she’s always belonged, where she’ll always belong.

Or...

Perhaps it was about the sex. 

He had been good, loyal, patient, understanding, boyfriendly. 

She wasn’t the only one making sacrifices. 

It’s unfair of him to hold that against her, and he knows that… most of the time… but no one can blame him for forgetting it when he sees her sitting next to him in that short school-skirt, so in-reach, so grabbable, with his bed taunting them from right behind his back, how easy it would be to just pick her up and throw her down on it, watch her bounce while looking up at him in a giggling fit. 

He can’t be expected to focus on doing algebra with that in his mind, he can’t be expected to tutor her when she looks at him with that apologetically hopeless clueless expression, laughing that nervous laugh that every time warns him about how completely lost she is to what he’s talking about.

Granted, it was him who told her he would be tutoring her, because god and every teacher along with him knew she needed it, what with how she daydreams or pranks each and every class away like the ditzy klutz she is.

“I… I- I don’t know?” Was her answer to yet another equation he’d poured out from between his grit teeth.

Plan A revolved around her wanting to repay the favor, give him a little present for helping her out. Tit for tat, eye for an eye, sort of thing. And usually she would, give him a little something in return, a chaste kiss to his cheek, a frisky make-out session that always ended just a bit too early, never fully what he wanted.

Plan B was to tire her out, creating an opening for him to suggest that they do something that requires less thinking. She usually gets distracted, sometimes she’ll even initiate it in hopes he’d let her off the hook with studying, she’d pout her lips, look at him with those large pretty puppy-dog eyes, coax him into cuddling, but she’d always fall asleep just a minute later.

Plan C was a spin off plan B. Where in hopes of making her the bad guy, he would be sweet, he has been sweet, offering his help to tutor her, she would grow tired like she always does, only this time he wouldn't allow her to rest, therefor causing her to snap, resulting in her saying something she’d regret, again resulting in her apologising, something he could mold into her owing him a favour, something that would end up with having her splayed out on the sheets of his bed, ready for the taking. 

He just needed an opportunity to hold something against her, an excuse, a favor to cash in, he needed her backed up into a corner.

Plan C wasn’t working though, unfortunately.

She never grew fed up with him, she never said anything foul. 

He was stupid to think that an opportunity like that would arise. She isn't like him after all. In fact, she’s the farthest thing from him.

Well, time for plan D then. Another spin off plan B.

Don’t hold it against him, but he’d been spouting bullshit for the last three minutes in hopes of making her frustrate over herself, where the former plan had evolved into something a bit more crucial. 

But, she’s insanely tolerant, reminding him of Kirishima’s sturdy quirk, though he had to admit finding her unfaltering confidence and dedication way more mind-blowingly impressive. 

He had been chipping at that composure of hers for the last two hours without breaching the surface. 

But there was still hope. 

Everyone has a breaking point after all, and he could sense she was getting fed up. Fed up with his tone, fed up of him treating her like a moron, fed up with him. 

It would only take one last blow now and she’d break.

Or so he thought.

He had impressive amounts of patience, but he was also nearing his breaking point and finally after one more of her soft-natured laughs, he was the one that had enough, he didn’t want to wait any longer.

And plan E was looking way more opportune by the minute.

“You think it’s funny that you’re an idiot?”

Her eyes widened and turned instantly glossy at his harsh words, looking like a kicked-puppy, before it contorted into an expression of something akin to anger but not truly as vicious. 

Yet, obviously taking offence, huffing as she got up to leave, proving how she too was done with playing their little fantasy, uncaring, or rather forgetting, that she wouldn’t be going anywhere without his permission.

“I think so too, I think it’s fucking hilarious.” He mocked, hand gripping her shirt and pulling her back between him and the desk. 

Already she was pushing at him, as he leaned in closer gripping her hips and gliding her onto his desk, wanting to feel her thighs and legs cradle around his torso. 

“But, you know what I find even funnier?” 

She opened her mouth to speak, but she was given no room to let her protest out as he raised his voice in warning. 

“What I bet you laugh your ass off at behind my back?!” 

Her annoyance turned ashen, faltering into that meek fearful look he didn’t realise until know that he’d missed. 

“Is how much of an idiot I am.” 

Her brows scrunched, hands placed on the thick stiff muscles of his arms as she felt him start to rub circles into her midriff where his fingers where digging into her soft flesh through her shirt. 

“I’ve been so fucking patient.” It was barely above a whisper, almost sounding broken, like a cry or a plead or an apology, but then his face split into a snarl as he leered at her, teeth flashed at her face making her jump slightly where she sat planted on the desk. “So fucking patient with you that it’s ridiculous.” 

His nose touched hers where she slightly bowed her head. His eyes were blood-shot, or perhaps it was just how they always looked. She wouldn’t know as she made it her unrelenting mission to never look directly at him. 

But now she couldn’t escape his stare, the stare she’d feared so much, pushed tight up against her, so tight she smelled his breath when she inhaled, so tight she felt the thin hairs on her upper lip dance as he huffed out his own growling breaths. 

“And no, I’m not talking about math.”

Her hands had moved to his chest as he hunched further and further over her, pressuring her to lie down on the desk. 

“Please, Baku-” She tried, adding slightly more pressure to her hold on him, but honestly... no amount of her strength would be able to fend him off, especially with the mood he was in.

“No!” He cut her off with a growl, finally forcing her down on her back underneath him, as he palmed the doughy flesh of where her hips connected to her ass, greedy and so very hungry, still keeping a firm hold on her with a thumb hooked on her hip, keeping her in place. “No more please, and I told you it’s fucking Katsuki.” 

She flinched as he spit the correction in her face, feeling something bulging slot and rub itself up against where her skirt had hiked up and exposed her thin panties. 

“No more pleas, no more excuses, no more teasing, no more jokes.” 

He spotted a tear dripping down her cheek, escaping with how hard she was squeezing her eyes shut to avoid his gaze.

She whimpered before she spoke. “I- I’ve do- done every- everything you- you asked.” She blubbered, her hands removed from their insignificant standoff with his chest and shot up to cover her face as she began crying, wiping at them as they fell, pathetic and broken and so pretty his balls hurt with how much he wanted to bury himself inside her no doubt tight cunt.

Desperate now, he bumped his erection into her heat. Trying to steal her focus away from the action by gripping her chin between his rough finger-pads, his lips brushing up her jawline, inhaling her perfume, the scent making another pleasurable shiver spring to his cock, again humping into her. 

“So, what’s one more thing?”

Her heart would have sunk by his words if it weren’t for the building intensity that spiked it to beat faster, hammering in her chest as she felt what she now had no doubt was him pushing into the scared place found between her thighs. 

She could feel her panic bubble up where she was pushed against the cold wooden desk, with her boyfriend’s unwanted heat radiated and seeping through her clothes to tickle her skin. 

She didn’t want this. She wasn’t sure if she ever would want this. 

Bakugo had told her so many times that this was something she needed, everyone needed, but as her heart kept pumping so profusely in her chest, as though it were some blaring alarm, she wasn’t at all sure if she liked the way the stubble on his shaved chin scratched as it rode up her neck when he planted soft open-mouthed wet kisses there, she wasn’t sure if she at all wanted his large calloused wandering hands to stroke and tamper with her soft skin as he pulled her shirt out of her skirt to touch and feel up her stomach and squeeze the soft flesh of her tits, and the more and more his threatening clothed cock continued in rubbing desperately against her own teased sex she fell short of understanding just what it was she didn’t want, if it was the intimacy or just him.

Her panic built like bile in her throat, wanting to burst, which it did. 

“I’m not ready- I don’t- can’t we just…” 

He captured her chin between his thumb and index finger, lips coming to shut her up, cut off whatever protesting excuses she was about to splutter out. 

She tried getting her words out, trying ever so timidly to shake from the kiss, yet however which way she tried turning her head, Bakugo simply followed to deepen it, turning more bruisingly passionate by the second.

Her hands were kept unsurely in their delicate touching on his chest, again in her fear of souring the mood she only barely pushed at him to get off, whereas his hands grasped and groped up her thighs, feeling her soft flesh up like dough, squeezing and kneading and just touching her, all of her, despite her small hums of discomforted surprise.

Large encompassing hands took a break from their pioneering and easily pried her smaller ones off his chest, interlocking his fingers with hers and pushing them down to her sides where they wouldn’t get in the way. 

The kiss then turned rough, hungry as he yet again rocked himself into her, a rugged groan escaping from deep within his throat as her struggles met him with her own type of delicious friction, kissing his sensitive bulge with little caution.

He was so sensitive from having to have held back his primal urges for so long, especially after being teased daily by the soft grabbable little mouse he slept next to throughout every night without being allowed to do more than simply hold her, being teased with her ass slotted against his crotch as they spooned. 

If she wasn’t careful with her movement he might just become a pathetic mess and cum in his pants with how pent up he was.

His other hand made to slip under her skirt to feel up the lace of her panties, wanting nothing more but to slip his finger inside her no doubt tight little hole and work her up until she’d be dripping drenching his hand with wetness, wanting to hear those panicked whimpers turn into ones of pleasure instead, but she was making it impossible with all her troublesome wiggling. 

His fingers forgot their quest between her thighs in favor of picking her up and moving her to the bed instead. 

She tried pushing, but it was so weak that he could pretend to not feel it. 

He wouldn’t be stopping unless she flat out screamed at him, and even then, she’d have to be brutally clear or else he’d take it for screams of pleasure.

He made sure the fall was soft, placing her down on her butt first before his hand cusped the back of her head as he pushed her down onto her back with him hovering on top, deep kisses aiding his quest in pressing her and keeping her beneath him.

She jostled under the entrapment of his weight when his digits stroked up over her panties, rubbing and dipping into the warm tender skin found beneath. 

Her hands pushed at him then, only a little, though it should have been enough to get her message across, but as she realized it wouldn’t she turned her head to the side, freeing her lips from his attacking ones and allowing her to speak her protest, or… more whine than speak.

“Katsuki…”

He shushed at her from where he was nuzzling in her neck, seeming almost lovesick like a frenzied pup as he began to lightly hump into the mattress, his teeth nibbling at the thin skin of her throat. 

“Don’t worry… I’ll make you feel good.” It was a drawled-out mumble, but it told her of how he had no intention of stopping.

“But-” She tried, but was quickly made to shut up as her chin was once again captured and dragged to make her look up at him, his lips again pressing into her, seizing all words.

Soon his antagonizing finger hooked under her underwear, rough-textured fingertips quickly making their way to rub over the sensitive lips found at their disposal. 

Her struggles grew then, her chest jutting forward to try and lift him off her, to allow her to speak, but it was as though he was glued to her, his fingers nearly marking their presence into her cheeks as his wet mouth and even wetter tongue continued exploring the insides of her mouth. 

She whimpered at the feel of his fingers pushing through her folds, gliding up and down the slit. Jolting once too violently, Katsuki laid all his weight down onto her, trapping her there completely, quenching the harshness of her struggles and subduing them to what felt like she was trying to meet his desperate humping.

“Trust me.” 

He should have whispered it, he should have tried making it sound less aggressive as he cuddled with the lips of her pussy, sticking one finger inside her warmth, followed by her squealing in surprise against his lips. 

Her fingernails marked their presence into his skin as she held onto his arm, still not allowed to protest, still only barely allowed to breath.

He couldn’t help but growl at the feel of how tight she was, or… at the feel of how unprepared she was. 

She whimpered as it was no doubt uncomfortable being skewered onto his thick finger without being at all wet, but he was determined to make that change. 

His thumb pushed into her clit, starting to rub slow carful circles into the hooded and hidden pearl, wanting it to pucker out to meet him. And soon, at the hands of his experienced fingers, and perhaps encouraged by her virginal thrill of having something touch her for the first time, his wishes were met. 

The finger buried inside her began squishing in wetness, allowing him to add another one at the expense of her gasping against him, her hands relenting slightly in their need to push him off, a soft uncertain hum simmering against his lips, making him smirk, gloat and bloom with cocky bliss.

Working her tightness with his digits, coating them in slick, he began curling them, feeling the waves of her tensing and melting beneath him. Parting them, scissoring them inside of her plushie walls, his thumb rubbing tight patterns into her bead.

Encouraged by her struggles subsiding he began pumping the digits in and out, feeling her wetness coat his hand. The actions finally earning him a moan, a sweet trembling breathy moan, one that got right to his head as his grin widened against her lips. 

“You see?” He asked, lips still barely detaching from her, breathing the words into her. “You were just scared…” 

Their eyes locked and he was happy to see her orbs large and glossy yet cotton-flavored and blissful as she looked up at him. 

“You don’t need to be scared with me, just let me do this for you, trust me…” 

He kissed her softly now, no brutality or forcefulness, but lightly and sweetly and tenderly, so much so she almost forgot it was Bakugo. 

“I’ll make you feel good.”

But it was Bakugo. 

It was Bakugo. 

Bakugo who’d forced her into a relationship. 

Bakugo: her self-proclaimed boyfriend, her self-proclaimed roommate, her tutor, her guard-dog, her warden. 

Bakugo, who was now persuading her into giving him her virginity.

She was about to answer, but as though he precepted her growing trepidation he met it all with a sharp hooking of his fingers, making her arch her back up into him, her knees trembling where they were pushed up over his thigh next to his hips. 

“Just relax…”

An open-mouthed uncontrolled moan escaped her then. “Katsuki~” 

She felt her hips buck back into his hand, letting him know that he had her completely wrapped around his finger, just as figuratively as it was literal.

“That’s right…” He spoke softly, maintaining the aura of safety, wanting to keep her exactly like that, all soft and sweet and vulnerable for him. “You just focus on me, babe.” 

He placed a tender kiss to her jaw, contrasted with how he now rubbed vigorously onto her swollen bud, feeling her tremble, quake at his hands. 

He knew he had her right where he wanted her, chasing that high he was giving her, her legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his torso, reminding him of his own arousal, but he couldn’t pay himself any mind. 

Right now all he needed to worry about was sealing the deal.

An excited jumpy hitched breath left her lips, precious as it was sweet, chest rising above the bed and pressing against his own in such a soft expression of gratitude, just as her legs squeezed tightly around his waist, keeping him close, pussy clenching around his fingers so tight he could only dream of what it would feel like wrapped around his cock, as her eyelids started to flutter, squishing to a close, but not before he saw her eyes cross, reaching towards the light, a light he ignited for her.

She was left a panting mess, her walls fluttering around his digits, happily sucking on them as she spilled.

But she wasn’t left blissed out for long as she hurriedly scurried back to herself, hands covering her face as she hung her head in embarrassment, feeling that dreadful feeling wash over her, that draining shame feeling like death’s embrace. 

“I’m sorry.” She squealed, words muffled beneath the cover of her hands.

His brows scrunched as he perceived her, trying to spot her face from beneath what shield she’d made with her hands.

“I- I made a mess…” 

It sounded as though she were about to cry, so ashamed her body began to shake, her thighs pressed together, hiding where she cocooned herself in the bed in front of him.

His hand trailed soft fingers up her forearm to wrap around her wrist, gently prying her hand away from her face. 

He sighed, heart clenching at the sight of her glossy shameful eyes. 

“You’re so fucking adorable…” 

There was a slight chuckle attached to the statement, his lips kissing her temple before they brushed against the shell of her ear. 

“Why don’t you make a mess on my tongue next?”

The question left her shell-choked, her lip quivering at the promise of his mouth kissing her down there in the same manor he kissed her lips: brutally, passionately, with teeth. 

“M-Mn-No…” She spoke bashfully, still anxious.

Too cute for her own good.

His hand, the one soaked with her essence, ascended to his face, his fingers disappearing into his mouth, lips enclosing around them as he sucked the juices clean off, giving a groan at her taste as well as her shocked but curious expression, smirking once he let his finger go with a kiss.

His hands moved front and centre, beginning to tamper with the buttons to her uniform. 

“You’re safe with me.” He repeated, knowing it was something she needed to hear, especially as he began opening button after button, revealing her precious pearly-white bralette, where under was found glory in the shape of soft warm pillows. “Trust me.” 

He shoved her shirt off her shoulders, bringing it out of her reach, not allowing her the freedom of covering herself if she were to change her mind and snatch it back from his hands. 

She hummed in unease as though to ask if he had to go any further, to which he answered by kissing her forehead, a gesture that made a shiver run up her spine, unsure if it was of pleasure or something more eerie. 

His finger running, dancing around to her back, tickling the skin where her bra was held together. 

He felt her tense up, but ignored it and continued in his quest, pinching the clasp and taking hold of the straps to pull the annoying thing off, leaving her bare and beautiful.

Taking a second to admire her as her nipples perked at once at the hands of her embarrassment, he held back the urge to pinch, forcing himself to be soft, soft and sweet and safe, something he needed to remind himself of. 

Hands moving carefully to hold one of the mounds, a careful squeeze followed by a careful rub of the nipple between his thumb and index finger.

“Lay back down.” His voice was so warm, so warm it left her perplexed, unable to tell that the words shaped a demand as he placed one large hot hand in the space between her breasts, adding slight pressure to ease her back down into the bed, all the while her curious yet terror-wide watery eyes looked up at him, falling prey to his dominant crimson ones. 

His head followed hers, lips pressing one soft kiss to her wet ones.

There is something about being bare in front of someone fully dressed. Something so dominating, something so frightening. But, surely the fact that he looked at her as though she were the world made everything safer, surely it evened the scales, surely… she wasn’t completely powerless.

“Let me prove just how much I love you.”

He could feel how terribly fast her heart was beating as he kissed down her neck, over her collar bone, careful to not bite too harshly, giving into simply nibbling or grazing his teeth, fighting the urge to mark her up so prettily. 

Mouth moving to suck at the exposed sensitive skin of her tits, forgetting himself as he made to grind the protruding nib between his teeth, being met with a squeal from the girl beneath him, her hands instinctively pushing at his shoulders. 

But again, her racing heartbeat and impulsive struggles were subdued, Bakugo making to squeeze her cheeks between his fingers, squishing her plump bloated reddened lips together, whispering upon them as he leaned in close. 

“Don’t worry, babe, you know I won’t hurt you.” 

She nodded, but still he felt her shiver, heard the tremor in her breathing, the soft sniffles she couldn’t keep at bay, just as pathetic as they were adorable and mouthwatering for him to hear.

Once he reassured himself she wasn’t about to roll out of bed and stagger towards the bathroom, running like a spooked hare, he placed a chaste kiss to the side of her mouth before peppering a dozen more down her neck, over the nipples he’d played with, going further down and lower and lower until he was all the way down to kissing the space found just beneath her bellybutton, his ears shifting to listen to how the bed creaked upon her shuffling, yet those anxious movements where seized when his hefty arms wrapped beneath her thighs, pulling her all snug and personal, lining her up perfectly with his face, all for him to see what gorgeous mess he’d made of her, all glistening and blushed with arousal. 

He couldn’t wait any longer to give her a taste, feel her melt on his tongue, hear her moan as he buried his face into her.

He flicked a light kitty-lick over her budding clit, felt her quake in his arms, looking up yet still down at her where he couldn’t quite place what emotion terrorised her face the most, whether it was mostly anxiety, discomfort, shame, embarrassment or pleasure. 

It didn’t discourage him though as he made the same movement again, only now twirling his warm textured tongue around the pearl, swirling around it, circling it like a shark, before his entire mouth enclosed it, devoured it, sucked on it, his tongue placed flat on top of it as he dragged it over the sensitivity again and again, sucking fervently, feeling her panic at the intrusive pleasure, yet being held steady in his arms with no way of getting away.

He let up, letting go with a wet pop before running his tongue deeply down the slit, plunging into her weeping hole where it wormed its way inside. 

She wiggled as his nose bumped into her ravaged clit, all sensitive with tender swelling.

She was all shaky breaths, no sound too loud, no sound too brazen or wanton. 

He needed to change that. 

He planned to go slow, but had wanted it to be a surprise, and so, instead of lightly grazing his teeth over the silken bud he gave into biting down on it, gnawing it lightly between the rows of his teeth.

She shrieked, hands pushed with force against his head to get him off as she climbed higher up on the bed, away from him, yet the movement was soon stilled, or rather reversed with the strength of Bakugo’s arms coiled around her thighs, dragging her back to meet his hungry mouth. 

“Don’t move.” 

Carmine eyes stared up at her from down in between herself, and she felt her knees go weak as they shook at the terrifying growl that accompanied his threat. 

“Just… trust me.” 

She didn’t. 

She didn’t trust him, she feared him, feared his marred and mauled hands, those scars running up over the great juicy muscles of his arms, those deadly arms themselves, capable of both withstanding and giving destruction, proof that he can and has survived far greater than what she could ever hope, proof that she was no match, no equal. 

She didn’t trust him, she feared him, feared how his thumb now rubbed over her clit, creating such godsend friction that had her unraveling, melting into his mouth, and that mouth itself, that tongue, those teeth, how they devoured her for everything she was worth. 

She didn’t trust him, but she found... falling suited her, and chasing the fires had unknowingly become a feeling she rather cherished than feared, a little less like dying, and more like... coming home.

By the time she came to, reeled back into reality, yet still remaining far away, succumbed by bliss, her eyes were opium-blown as she blinked dumbly, not realizing how Bakugo had placed himself on her side, eyes full of awe as he watched her, leg tangled with legs, heart to heart, hand held lazily on her hip, drawing small patterns up and down her side, watching her flushed face drowse into the pillow until those pretty chaste eyes met his again.

His boxers were sticky. 

She’d been too busy, too distracted with the feeling of his lips and tongue and teeth abusing what found between her legs to notice how he’d been humping the mattress while eating her out as though he were starved and crazed and feral with lust. And even though she felt him groan and growl, the reverberations that tremored at the roughness of his gruff timber was enough to make her eyes cross and forget, even forgive them from ever happening.

“How about making a mess on my cock next time?” 

His hand stroked her cheek after pulling the covers up to drape her naked body that now had begun to shiver in the crash of coming down. The thoughtful action a stark contrast to his cocky suggestive tone, eyes glinting wickedly at the little lamb he’d lured into and onto his wolf fangs, still tasting her essence on his tongue, watching as those skittish brows erupted into that beautiful panic that somehow resembled hope as she looked at him wide-eyed, smitten with plead and all things soft. 

“I’m joking…” 

He gave a smile, soft but in a different way, admiring what was his. 

“Or, not really… but whenever you want, whenever you’re ready.” 

The thumb stroked over her cheek once again, before his lips pressed a long firm kiss to her forehead, hinting for her to nuzzle into his neck, where his smell had become like ritual, something she wasn’t meant to go on without for too long.

She thought she’d made it clear she wasn’t ready for any of this. What makes the next step any different? Still, with the defeatist thought, she did like the defeatist she was, timid hands coming to hold onto Bakugo’s fire-hot skin, slotting herself tight against his body. 

She didn’t trust him, but she trusted his love, she trusted his lust, she trusted he would never let her go, and that perhaps those arms of his weren’t too bad. Perhaps if she thought of how safe she was she could more or less forget or rather forgive that they were there to keep her trapped, perhaps if she spent enough time believing she was kept safe by him, then she’d forget all the reason as to why being trapped with him was the farthest thing from safe.

TIP-JAR

PART ONE

[thegoldenavenger]

[part 1 here]

Welcome to the Taylor Swiftening Part 2! Where I am listening to Taylor’s albums in release order because 1. i think it’ll be funny and 2. i want to know what my friends mean when they say like, idk “this album makes me insane but i wont turn it off”

Last time I listened to Tim McGraw, Picture to Burn, and Teardrops on my Guitar.  This time we’re starting off with A Place in this World, which also marks the start of songs i’m pretty sure i haven’t heard before!

I don’t know what to say I wasn’t expecting this opening!

It’s really interesting to hear a Taylor song not about a boy! wow! i hope there’s more. i don’t mind love songs or breakup songs, they’re great, but i really want to hear how taylor writes about other things too!

ooh love to have the weather imagery coming in! It’s actually raining right now so what a bonus. I love rain, i love rainy songs. she’s using it as a metaphor for that semi-transitional, liminal time as a kid where’s she’s able to do things by herself but hasn’t experienced much yet so she can’t tell what’s coming. also, i suppose there could be a connotation besides the actual reduced-vision rain brings by having a cinematic association with sadness?

I think in this song the rain isn’t leaning as hard on the sadness trope as it is making a journey less pleasant, since she doesn’t expand on it (rain = sadness). well, i mean the symbolism and the lyrics are a little bit lonely. rain forces isolation sometimes, even if you brave the weather, so i suppose the cinematic association isn’t too far off.

I really like this chorus, it’s simple, but listening to this now I am probably not getting the intended effect as i would have when i was like, still school aged, haha.  I do love the “I’ll be strong, I’ll be wrong, oh but life goes on” that’s really nice to include. I love the message acknowledging the mistakes everyone will make growing up and that it’s okay! especially relevant to younger folks where every mistake and social misstep feels like the end of the world.

Return of the very classic country cues with the blue jeans! Love that. I miss jeans so much... anyways

oh i like the cycle of weather! The rain has cleared up now that she has some of her comforts with her (radio and jeans, which. relatable) she has decided that being open is a good thing and the sun has come out from the clouds! i was going to go on a tangent about how jeans are really comfortable and a symbol of blah blah blah but i decided it wouldn’t be relevant but she’s honestly using the jeans and music as her comfort items. like, yeah, if the last thing we know about her is her little black dress and her old faded blue jeans from Tim McGraw, then now she’s underlining that the blue jeans are like, stability or something.

the last three songs are about breakups and unrequited love, but the jeans survive! whatever partner you have might leave you but those jeans have spent years breaking in and are ready to support you on your journey!!! i miss jeans!!! why are they so expensive now!!!!!

This last part is chorus repetition except for

“i’m just a girl on a mission” is a wild way to phrase this... what’s the mission, i thought we were on a random road to a mystery tomorrow, not targeting a specific thing? i also don’t automatically associate mission and fly as, like, mutually exclusive. in fact, my first association with missions is flying (planes to a location, or parachuting spy-style into, like, a heist IDK), but i guess having a mission is very structured as opposed to the freedom that flying usually symbolizes, which is obviously the symbolism she’s pulling from with the uh.. long.. vocalization on the word

idk anything about music guys OTL this is where i apologize for calling things the wrong name and stuff as i listen through this.

This was a cute song. I can definitely see why it wasn’t a radio-hit like the first three, it’s a little more niche and less broadly appealing? I guess. I don’t know something something about repeating “im just a girl” four hundred times (it’s only 7 times) makes me think of that tumblr think piece that’s like “naming yourself [adjective]-man is the most trans thing a person can do”.  i’m not sure if that means anything to anybody but me, but it feels like there’s an essay about gender performance in this song... even though there’s not barely any type of typically feminine-gender roles displayed here?

i really think the “i’m just a girl on a mission”, and my brain turning that to “james bond????” in the middle fried my analysis brain.

This next song is Cold as You.  Glad that we seem to be carrying on the autumn/winter rainy, cold season metaphors!! I don’t think i’ve heard a Taylor song that could be described as, like, a cozy autumn song but I think one would be nice!

okay the intro sounded super familiar to me but I just looked up Big and Rich’s Holy Water and I think it’s just because of the violin sounds. Just re listened to Whiskey Lullaby’s intro as well and that doesn’t sound the same, but has similar vibes.  is this a sad song?? like a really sad song? i know Teardrops on my Guitar was a more melancholy song but is this a tearjerker? I ask, excitedly.

oh i love this slower tempo for taylor’s voice! i mean, i like these types of songs a lot as opposed to boppier music so that’s probably because i’m biased. this first lyric, “you have a way of coming easily to me” reminds me of the lines “he’s the time taken up, but there’s never enough” and “strike a match on all my wasted time”

it’s not an exact (or even close) thematic match, but the vibes of those lyrics strike me as similar for some reason especially followed by the “you take the very best of me”

adjklsjf i misheard this as “i start a fire cause I need to feel something” and i was going “oh! oh! like picture to burn!” but it’s “fight”...

aww the last song did end on a sunny day and now it’s rainy.  that’s a neat way to tie the song order together!

i’ll be transparent here, i do not know what this means. the first line “just walk away, ain’t no use defending words that you will never say” 

i mean, trying to puzzle through it from start to finish “just walk away” is used to deescalate fights, right.  don’t say things you don’t mean, don’t say anything that could be used against you, just walk away.  but then the “ain’t no use defending words that you will never say”... “words that you will never say” in the context of this song makes me think of like, saying i love you or saying i’m sorry depending on what the fight is about.

if it was something like “just walk away and dont say something you dont mean” that’s a pretty straight forward if vague lyric but here specifically what does “no use defending words you will never say“ mean???

my first instinct is to interpret it as Taylor (or the narrator, i guess, assume i’m using Taylor as a stand in for narrator or song POV from now on) telling the other person to leave, as whatever things they would say, it wouldn’t be the right things to hear and Taylor is done retroactively trying to rationalize those words as being what she does want to hear.

i’m not sure i’m explaining it correctly, because it’s a very complicated concept to boil down into one line.... which is why im so reluctant to go with that interpretation.

i like the inflection she used here.  but this kind of reinforces my first thought of the previous lines... referring to someone as cold is usually meant to imply that person is aloof, closed off, not as warm or as expressive of emotions in general.  so i think i may be right in thinking this “you” doesn’t express enough verbally in this relationship. whether it’s specifically “i love you” or just doesn’t communicate in general, Taylor starts these fights to try and provoke some kind of reaction, but doesn’t get the desired effect (confessions of love, or opening up about whatever topic) and maybe Taylor used to rationalize this as being shy, or scared, but after enough times she can’t anymore and they can’t defend their position of not opening up.

that’s a lot for like, three lines.

wow, so this is further support. putting up walls is a metaphor for being closed-off, painting them gray is reinforcement of the previous (and to come i’m sure) chorus of “a rainy end to a perfect day”.  so yeah, this is about a failure in communication, or at least... a misalignment of needs in a relationship.

“you come away with a great little story/of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you” is a buck-wild line.  it turns the song from something lamenting this fissure of communication to a classic break-up/catharsis song. 

also, it’s kind of awkward? it goes straight into the chorus so that “nerve to adore you” doesn’t have a resolution the way “shade of gray/ all away” does... i guess it serves to make the change very noticeable.

hrm, “you never did give a damn thing” is probably supposed to be more evidence of the uh imbalance in the relationship? the second line in the song, after all, is “when you take, you take the very best of me” so it’s saying that Taylor is the one giving, giving, giving in a very unequal relationship. 

and then straight into, a BUCK WILD “you wouldn’t have told nobody if i died, died, for you, died for you” oh my GOSH that is so intense. like what is going on with that relationship that that is even on the table????

i do like that she didn’t repeat the chorus verbatim three times until the outro... the change up is nice in that it’s reinforcing her previous points, that she’s finished justifying things and presumably seeing the relationship as lopsided and acknowledging the hurt it’s given her i just.. hrm.

i like the song as a departure from the boppy tempos from before. idk, again i don’t know anything about taylor, if this is a fictional song or if she’s singing about an actual relationship, but i’ve definitely been on the other side of this where i’ve been called cold and walled off and uncommunicative, etc, when I know i was trying my best to reach out and engage in the relationship (friendship though, not romantic so maybe different expectations?) so i’m coming at this song from an extremely weird position that i know isn’t that common of one.

I like the song, and love the imagery of “never been anywhere cold as you”. i’m actually surprised i haven’t heard it before, it sounds like one of those perfect teenage angsty songs you’d use in, like, AMVs or something! but it’s not one i’ll probably listen to a lot just for, like, my mental health lol (im literally probably going to draw a lyricstuck to it hahaha)

This next song is The Outside.

It’s nice and upbeat so far...

I’ve noticed that these have all been first-person POV which is why I’ve just been using Taylor as shorthand for narrator so far. I guess that’s because I’ve heard she sings about her exes and stuff, so I just assume this is Taylor-as-POV for all the songs whether or not that’s correct..

so far this is pretty similar to A Place in this World as a song about a personal journey. That’s interesting, it’s neat to see two kind of coming-of-age songs?

oh i know this one! road less traveled by is a Robert Frost reference.

it’s an interesting metaphor considering... is it her career that is the road less traveled by? because that’s a wild claim, though i mean it fits with A Place In This World as well with the lines “don’t know what’s down this road, I’m just walking”.  That road could definitely be the road less traveled as it’s hard to see while walking on it, and as a metaphor for a career i mean i guess she couldve gone to college and gotten a degree and started working retail like the rest of us but she definitely didn’t do that so it makes a kind of sense.

and if she felt type-casted or something by her music or the way those around her perceived her i can see her feeling like she’s stumbling away from being unique and poetic

hm okay so... either the road less traveled by took her so far away from where she wanted to be that now she is... on.. the outside  or the chorus just went in a completely different direction. 

i’m having trouble relating to these lyrics because, like, DUDE.  being on the outside is just. standard.

i really do like the wording of “i’ve been a lot of lonely places/i’ve never been on the outside” though. like, yeah, it’s lonely, and it’s a different kind of experience. 

who is the you who is she looking at? is it a good thing or a bad thing. did she take the road less traveled by to NOT see the you, or did she want to get closer.

oh this isn’t like A Place in this World, I see now.

i, is? is she still talking about her career? is this an unrequited love song? i don’t know, having a song talking about loneliness, outside-looking-in, and “no one notices until it’s too late to do anything” is very specific imagery i don’t think the song is actually going for.

there was such a strong opening, and now i’m kind of unsure and unsettled. is this a song about a career, wanting someone, or suicide? i’m not sure what to think and repeating the chorus twice over to outro isn’t helping.

Despite not being able to really parse the song, i do like the connection with the previous two songs.  The beginning of this song and A Place In This World are really cohesive together. The “outside looking in” and “i would give it all up to be a part of this a part of you / and now it’s all too late” motifs are really strong coming from Cold As You, like. yeah, that probably did make her feel shut out.

also EVERYtime i hear her sing “on the outside looking in” i ONLY hear lauren lopez singing waving through a window as a vampire which is REALLY messing with my perception of this song in the most hilarious way. Cold As You and The Outside vampire POV

okay i was going to try and write up more than three songs at a time but Cold as You was a pretty dense song I’m still reeling from so I’m going to cut this here, get some breakfast, and maybe come back later and power through some more songs! i hope you’re enjoying this little excursion haha. please also take a moment to hydrate or eat if you need to! it’ll be like we’re sharing a meal together.

[brownandblackpearls]

🦇𝒯he  𝒱isitor (Alucard Tepes x BlackReader) Pt.3

PART 3 SUMMARY:

You’re given a lackluster tour of Dracula’s castle that adds more questions than it answers, yet your quarters are beyond admirable and enough to forget the mysteries for just tonight. His ice is slowly melting, but not enough for you to see anything certain. To help speed things along, you decide to be a friendly guest and cook breakfast for the both of you.

─── Alucard x black female reader

─── imagery + fiction

─── explicit smut

─── Fantasy, vampires, hurt/comfort, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, magic user, cute bats, gardening, cooking, cottagecore MC, castlecore Alucard.

☾ previous. ☾ next.

┌───────────━┿──┿━──────────┐

└───────────━┿──┿━──────────┘

Your host is as gracious as the circumstances allow, you begin to realize. As immense and as glorious as the few parts of the castle you’ve seen are, your host confides that they were once even grander. He speaks briefly of there being a battle of sorts. He doesn’t say when or why, despite prodding, but it helps to fill in some of the gaps you have.

Spying some of the deeper gouges and gashes in the tough stone, you can’t help but wonder exactly what he was battling.

“You won the battle, then...?” You ask.

“Something like that,” he says simply enough, but it reads rather ominously to your ears.

You pause as you follow him, trying your best not to sound too afraid. You hope no enemies from this past battle still sneak about...

“So it’s just you and I, here…?”

He turns on you slowly, and a familiar dread rises in your gut as you realize you’ve angered him once again. Unfortunately for you, you’re not sure how. His features appear natural and still, but what you are feeling under your skin hints at the truth to his demeanor. You catch a hint of fang as he speaks, and you wonder if it’s intentional.

“Yes. Does that suit your plans?”

You hesitate, unsure.

“I…’plans’? I don’t—“

“—Allow me to assist you. Silver is a trifle. Stakes are laughable. Garlic does nothing, and no holy symbol nor water—no matter what wayward priest you find to bless it—will help your cause. Sunlight is a pleasure to my skin, which heals from fire, knife wounds, and all other maladies in conception, if you even manage to pierce it. If a Belmont had trouble making me bleed, you surely will. The few things that I am susceptible to, are magic, decapitation, and stakes, but then again, who isn’t? I implore you to try though, and wish you luck. Believe me, you will need it.”

Like before, as if you’ve been transported back behind the walls of books, he is upon you, and you cannot help but tremble. The ruby red is back, flickering just behind his sunstorm eyes. You are beside yourself but you do your best to think quickly as to what nonexistent offense he’s percieved.

‘Does he think I mean to kill him? How even could he assume such a thing…? From me, of all people...?’

“I do not wish to make an attempt on your life,” you say slowly, clearly. “My magic is very poor, but not my behavior towards hosts kind enough to allow me in their homes.” You put a heavy emphasis on the ‘host’ portion, hoping to remind him of his promise from before.

“Enlighten me then,” he asks in a tone that seeks anything but enlightenment. “Why do you want to know if we are alone, if not to better plan something that would require isolation?”

You find yourself frowning.

“You…you completely misunderstand me, sir…” you begin, stepping back. “I just…I asked if we were alone because….I…I…”

Something in your face must call out to his reason, because the red drains out from his eyes and he steps away, reeling back. The grieved look returns.

“You’re afraid,” he realizes suddenly, aloud. “You want to ensure nothing else lurks in these walls.”

You nod, happy to be comprehended, for once.

“Yes,” you insist. “The damage from the battle...I see it, and I think that your foes were very strong. I only hope they were all defeated and that it is just you and I here, alone, sir—er, Alucard.”

He nods, looking somewhat embarrassed now.

“It is only us, in these walls.”

You sigh happily, glad to have your fears discarded. The castle was still scary and intimidating of course, as large as it was. It felt as though something had to be tiptoeing somewhere around in the fortress, yet...he would know the place better than you, wouldn’t he...? And if he says its just you two, then hopefully that is so.

“Good,” you sigh. 

He makes no move at the sound of his name in your mouth, but he does think on your words before bowing his head ever so lightly.

“I apologize,” he admits. “I keep...jumping to conclusions. I made you fret after giving my word. Forgive me.”

You watch him with pleasant surprise, the corner of your mouth quirking up. 

So there were manners somewhere in there.

“You’re forgiven. I’m sure you must have had a rough go of assassins, being who you are and all.”

“I’ve had my share,” he admits, before turning to advance through the corridor. You don’t have time to think about his ‘share’, trying to keep up. You know he can move far faster than he is showing now, and you appreciate the effort he makes to go at a human pace so that you may follow closely behind. 

Deep down, you are still worried about what lays in the castle. You do feel safer, knowing something supernatural like him is at your side, and vowed to make sure no harm befalls you.

“Well,” you continue conversationally, trailing after him, “thank you for soothing my concerns. I feel all the safer for it.””

“...Odd,” he comments. “Hm?”

“You, feeling safer alone in Dracula’s castle, with a dhampir.”

You chuckle.

“I suppose it is odd when you put it that way. Just work on that temper of yours, and I’ll really be right as rain!” The jest is funny enough for you, but it doesn’t land so well with your present company.

He scowls, but the real heat is gone. Energized from knowing he is bound by promise and that there are no others here, you feel bold enough to place an assuring hand on his arm. 

He feels strong and solid, like stone. He stiffens before pulling away, peering down at you.

You try your best not to look too hurt. You smile assuringly instead.

“Believe me, Alucard. I’m not here to try and do you in. I mean, look at me! You think I’m foolish enough to attempt such a thing on you when I could hardly handle that crowd of ruffians outside?”

You laugh then, slapping a hand on your leg. It is the bare one from the rip in your dress, and the smack is much louder than you anticipate. It’s enough to silence you into meek embarrassment.

Alucard simply watches you before turning around and leading you on.

You follow him silently now, and you quickly find that the tour is rather lacking. He says little about the winding halls you are led through, and you can’t help but wonder the stories of each hallway, of each room. Will you ever learn of them?

The place is monstrous, and so the soles of your feet are a bit sore by the time you reach what Alucard regards as your quarters.

“You will stay here,” he gestures past a large emblemed door into a wide room. 

You peer inside, finding a beautifully canopied bed, heavy curtains attached to what you can only assume is a gigantic window. There is a large bookcase, a fireplace, an armchair, a desk, and a small door leading into another room. 

“That is your bathing room,” he notes.

When you stare at him curiously, he explains.

“My father possessed immense technological advancements,” he says quickly, as if he’s explained it several times before. Perhaps he has.

‘So his father is Dracula,’ you think. ‘But the stories of Dracula were much more…gruesome and cruel. If this is his son...this man is certainly scary when roused, but…’

His deep voice breaks you out of your reverie.

“The washing room has a basin called a ‘tub’. There is also a bidet with a smaller basin called a toilet. No need for outhouses or bringing up jugs of water here. We have plumbing.”

Now, you’re utterly confused.

Alucard sighs.

“Just…follow me. I’ll show you.”

You do just that and watch, engrossed, as your host thoroughly lays out and points to every faucet, knob, and all of their uses. Before long, you ascend from a common traveling woman to an expert in an alternate world knowledgeable on things such as ‘plumbing’.

You beam at the tub and sink, too giddy with joy to hide it. You bounce a little, your hands drawing to your chest excitedly.

Alucard levels a raised brow at you, pausing.

“...Are you alright?”

You nod happily, twirling in the bathroom to face him.

“This place is incredible! Plumbing! Who would’ve thought? There was almost something like this I saw over the Eastern seas, but the people there called them…acq..acqueducts! They were these large beams that delivered their water…oh, but no matter! My hair! Goodness, it will be leagues easier…”

Alucard glances at your crown of curled, kinky locks before refocusing on you.

“How did you manage, before?”

“Oh, ponds. Streams. Rivers. The seaside. That sort of thing,” you say absently. “The chill of the water did wonders for my mane, but I felt like an icicle the entire time. And you say I can have heated, freshwater through these devices? I can’t lie, I’m ecstatic!”

Alucard nods shortly at that, watching you curiously, but seemingly unable to share your interest in the fixtures. Perhaps you’re more of an interest for him at this point than the plumbing. You eyeball his own healthy mane and assume he’s long been used to such luxuries.

“Oh, but…can I wash my garbs in the tub, too?”

Alucard tilts his head at that before realization sparks in his eyes.

“No. No, you’ll wear something else. That’s fairly ruined.”

You silently leave out the part that it is partially his fault, but he seems to catch on anyway.

“I…” he tries stiffly. “I apologize again. For before.”

“Oh?” You respond innocently. “For what? Scaring me? Yelling at me? Threatening my life? Tripping me?”

He sinks a little lower with each act. 

“All of it.”

“Oh! Well, then you’re forgiven. As much as I appreciate the apology, I have a feeling that this ‘tub’ will more than make up for it.”

Alucard seems to relax at that, showing you the cabinets with everything you’ll need.

“I’ll…” he trails off. “I’ll find you some clothing.”

He turns to leave, but you reach out to gently grip the tuft of white blouse peeking out from his sleeve. He turns, watching you sharply. 

He does not pull away, though. You call it progress.

“Alucard,” you say. “Thank you for your hospitality. Sincerely.”

He looks to the floor instead of your eyes—as if he’s afraid of what he’ll find there—before gently pulling away and wordlessly leaving the room.

───────────━┿──┿━──────────

You are lucky enough to find interesting soaps and good-smelling candles before working the bath. With some maneuvering and much delight, you are able to conjure bubbles through use of items you’ve scavenged from the cabinets. You find washcloths, sponges, brushes, and an assortment of other things.

You want to wait for your host to return first, but as the minutes continue to pass you realize you need to take advantage of the hot water before it cools.

You shed your clothes, undo your hair, and step into the water-filled basin.

“God…” you whisper, goosebumps rising on your skin.

It feels incredible.

You sink into the water, a smile on your face. You haven’t felt something this good since traveling to hot springs in your more daring adventures. Back then, you had to evade the cultist locals for a hint of heated water. This was so different, as it was your own personal hot spring whenever you desired!

You sink deeper into the water for a bit before beginning to scrub and lather your journey off of you. You decide to empty and fill the tub once more, just because you can, and bathe a little more before feeling pristine to your liking.

Stepping out, you massage in some leftover body oil from your pack. You clean the basin before peeking out into your room.

There is no one present, but a new, soft nightdress lays comfortably on the chair. Your fireplace is even lit.

You smile to yourself as you step out and lift the nightdress, assessing it.

“So his bark is louder than his bite,” you decide aloud.

You change swiftly, and despite being in such an strange situation, once in the massive bed, you find sleep has come right on your heels. Your eyes almost slide shut until you hear a knock at your door.

You open your eyes and slip out of bed. You push open your door—which has a heavy lock, you now realize—to see Alucard, in low lantern light, gazing back at you.

“I trust you found everything,” he says, rather than asks. You hear the question for what it is.

“Yes,” you smile. “Thank you.”

He considers your expression for a long moment before nodding his affirmation.

“Hm. Very well. There is a lock on the door of your room…if that’s any consolation to any fears you may have. Feel free to use it. Good night then,” he says, turning to leave.

“Alucard?” You call.

When he waits for you without turning to face you, you speak.

“Where will you be staying?”

‘If I need you,’ you think. 

You soon realize that this may become a situation where Alucard hears something in your speech that is not really there. With a solemn look, and the absence of an anger just as disturbing as its presence, he points to a door just down the hall from you. You would be pleased if not for the expression on his face.

“Just there,” he says. 

You realize that due to the two misunderstandings being him assuming you want to kill him, that this is likely what this third time revolves around. 

“Alucard,” you try, “I don’t intend to condescend, but you must know, I only ask for my own concern. I’m happier to know that my host is nearby. I meant no ill will by it. I’d be a poor assassin, remember?”

“Yes,” he answers quietly, as if he really is just recalling it. “I remember.”

“You’d hear me before I even entered, I bet!”

“I would.”

“So there is nothing to worry about…right…?”

His stiff shoulders finally seem to relax an inch. 

“I suppose. In any case…You are not to enter my domain, under any circumstances, outside of imminent danger. It would be…unwise of you.”

You nod, unsure of what exactly he means but positive he that he does mean what he says.

“I will see you in the morning...?” 

He pauses at that, looking somewhat bewildered. 

“I…yes, you will.”

“Alright!” You nod, pleased. “Good night then.”

Closing the door, you turn to the large, firelit room and beam.

It is a princess’s quarters…no, a queen’s! You will live lavish while you’re here, it seems.

You lay on the soft mattress under the thick covers, knowing pleasure you’ve never felt before until sleep takes you gently into the night.

───────────━┿──┿━──────────

When you wake, it is before the sun has fully broken into the sky. Pretty blues and pinks spill across the sky outside your window, so different from the cold colors of the day before. Rising in your nightgown, you spy a dress on the chair of your room. Alucard must have entered in your sleep. Had you locked the door...? You cannot recall. Under normal circumstances, traveling on the road, you would have never forgotten such a thing as utilizing a lock. For some reason, perhaps last night you felt you didn’t need to. 

You absently palm your neck for pinpricks of the vampiric sort, and find nothing.

‘Good enough for me, then.’

The dress lays before you, waiting

It is different, without any tears, and deep in its color. You pause before adorning it, turning this way and that in the looking glass before attempting to do something with your hair. 

‘I look rather stunning in this. Why does he have such nice women's clothing lying about, I wonder...?’

Once complete, you decide to do something as equally nice for your host as this dress was for you.

“Breakfast! I’ll make us breakfast. Dhampirs can eat food, right…? Now, if only I could find the kitchen…”

You spy your basket by the door. Another gift from your late-night visitor.

You pick up your newly returned basket from the room’s entrance, flipping over the blanket to spy your stolen vegetables still intact. 

You leave your rooms with a smile that slowly falls.

‘He said not to disturb him…perhaps I can find the kitchens myself? They must be on the first level, maybe the underground chambers, if anything. That’s how all castles are. I’d better start now if I hope to finish in time.’

You’re certain you will get lost, but you have a feeling that your host can easily find you again.

You pause, realizing something.

‘I hope I don’t find bottles of blood or something lying around…or something else’

On that sobering thought, you strap your dagger’s hilt tighter to your thigh. Alucard said you were both alone, but it couldn’t hurt to be vigilant.

You venture out and do your best to recreate the inverse of Alucard’s path to the great hall. After several turns and rerouting, you finally begin to recognize the way back to the grand hall. It takes far longer than you anticipated, and your soles begin to complain a little once you find the grand staircase.

With some exploration on the main floor, you finally come across a door leading into what appears to be a small kitchen. The floors are clean as are the pots and pans hanging from their hooks on the walls. You spy plenty of utensils, knives, and what appears to be another basin...plumbing. You will ask Alucard the name later.

You set down the basket, pleased to have reached your goal, and get to work.

“Can’t have just a vegetable scramble. He’s a literal dhampir, and I could use some protein.”

You can't find any aprons about, and so you wrap what looks to be a tablecloth around your pretty dress. No reason to ruin it with the trials of breakfast.

You hunt for eggs, meat, nuts, and anything of the protein type. After some pillaging, you are able to find all three and get to work. The eggs are small, and the meat is fox, rabbit, and fish instead of the typical villager fare of cows and pigs, but you make it work. You wash your hands and begin to carve out fillets, prep vegetables from your basket, and luck upon some spices. You search for oil, but can only find butter, and so you do your best with it.

Soon enough, the kitchen begins to fill with the scents and fumes of a bountiful breakfast. You plate the spiced eggs, the braised meat, the sautéed vegetables, and fill a pitcher with water. You think about finding the secret garden nearby once more to perhaps make juice from berries and fruits, or even preserve. Turning to the wood table, you set everything down before finding your final item.

The loaf of bread is well hidden, but not well enough. It is a little stale, but not enough to discourage. You claim it and cut it before setting it out on the table as well.

Turning to wash your hands one final time, you are unsurprised to find Alucard stalking in the doorway of the kitchen when you turn back around.

“What are you doing...?” he grouses, clearly just having recently awoken.

“Cooking us breakfast,” you sass, “you’re welcome, by the way. Oh, uh...you can eat food, right...?”

Alucard’s sleepy demeanor slowly fades as he nods, his interest growing as the smells of food clearly begin to assault him and cause wonders for his mood.

“Well?” You say, undoing the tablecloth-apron and taking a seat for yourself. “What are you waiting for? Sit with me, let’s eat!”

───────────━┿──┿━──────────

AN: Do not under any circumstances copy, repost, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.

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[rigelmejo]

9/27/2022 reading notes

Oddly. I'm finding the faster I try to read the easier it is to guess these words from context. My guesses when I read fast:

子身边黏 "stick around (the person)"

发闷 "quiet/stuffy" (literally send/give out-stuffy) actual definition bored, which i got the feeling of

温馨 "warm" I've never seen the second hanzi before but the sentence meant it had to mean warm/pleasant. 明明是一起打的盒饭，但是菜色却完全不一样。尽管都是简单的小炒素菜，香气却依旧填满了整间空落落的屋子，让它有了些许温馨的气��。

填满 "permeate/fill" ( bury, man-full) actual definition is fill up

白色食品袋 literally "white food bag" aka white takeout bag of food, obvious word by reading but just a word I don't often see

扒拉 My brain wanted to stop to contemplate these as individual verbs, but given the context of the sentence I figured "pushed around/moved around" His food. It's definition is apparently "lightly pushed" so I was close. 吴邪一边低头扒拉着饭菜，一边看着张起灵慢慢的吃着

瓷制 guessed manufactured/artifical something to do with single use takeout food chopsticks since that's what I guessed they're eating with given the scene. I was wrong, the ping indicates Porcelain apparently. Followed by 碗筷 which I took as bowl/chopsticks (which is technically right) but the translator gave me "tableware" so I guess Zhang qiling is using porcelain tableware. I was in the ballpark of descriptive-of-noun which was bowl/chopsticks at least. 吴邪敢打赌，就算张起灵此时用的是瓷制的碗筷，他依旧不会发出任何声响。

十元的纸币 my instincts Said this is money, something like 10 yuan paper bills. Instinct was right, I did not need to waste time looking it up and it being money would've been obvious if I'd kept reading.

器上映着 "machine on reflect" so I guessed monitor, given the sentence is about wu xie dreaming he saw his face and involving the computer. Spot on. 邪看着显示器上映着自己的脸，没来由的心里一阵发虚

Basically, I'm noticing for whatever reason (maybe how minds work idk) the word guessing is actually easier the more I just read and take whole paragraphs as a whole. Also as u can kind of see, yes I'm noticing details WAY better this time around. (It's funny because there's some things in chinese I know super well but don't know how I'd word if translating to English like 按理说， 更是况，and so they frustrate me when translating but when just reading its stuff like 愈发耀眼 that I'm figuring out, and today even that's pretty easy - it got sunnier/brighter ('more and more dazzling' is the translation i got when i looked it up) sunshine in the context of sentence. 午后的阳光虽然愈发耀眼）

It's actually... so funny... today I haven't read anything I found too hard to figure out from context at all. Damn. Wooh!

Also, a smaller thing, but I'm also grateful often the descriptive turns of phrase I do run into have sort of a similar logic to English. Like above yuefa even-more guangyan-dazzling, or earlier in this chapter I read basically wu xie wondering if he was going to bring food up to the room just to accidentally wake up Zhang Qiling up and basically a storm of worried thoughts in his brain and him thinking screw it I already bought it so it's already done I'm already staring at the door I might as well knock. Or stuff like 蓝天白云 blue sky white clouds right as a computer boots up? Oh that's the windows standard screen for sure ToT. Or a common thing I can't remember the exact hanzi for right this moment, but is basically "thoughts are a mess" which is such a similar way to how it's said in English. Maybe its the way it's described generally, or just some particular writers, but this writer and priest tend to write descriptions and use imagery idioms that are very literally logical if thought out like in English. Like 开始不停 "Start without stop" as in 开始不停的颤唞，started trembling without end/stopping.

Then there's sentences like this. 平日里总是喧闹的女生寝室，此刻却只剩下哗哗的水声，在这狭小的浴室里激起空荡的回音。 Normally the girls dorm rooms are noisy, but at this moment the only thing was the hua hua sound of the water in this small bathroom, breaking the silence and echoing. (Just translated based on how I understood it when reading, some word order changes for clarity in English, and my translation words aren't perfect but you get the idea. Also yeah if I translate anything right now if a novel ever gets requested This is About My Level of skill with that rn - correct mood is okay but word choice I don't feel I do well with nuance). My point with this example sentence is, the descriptions and ominous set up of the sentence are fairly clear from a literal interpretation. The same kind of thinking you'd do in English reading of descriptions for mood, so to some degree I can lean on the same observations to follow descriptions I run into. Another longer descriptor that's pretty straight forward 我一定要把它弄下来 "I've gotta get it off" (Yun Cai has what she thinks is flour stuck on her face when she thought it had been cream she'd washed off, and keeps scrubbing desperately at her face). 我不能带着这样的脸出去见人，"I can't go out with my face looking like this and see people" 我不能让他看到这样恐怖的自己！！"I can't let him see me looking this frightful/awful way!"

Quotes from the pingxie fic 夜半衣寒 作者:夏灬安兰 which I highly recommend (I love this writer, and I love this fic and 寒舍）

[finleycannotdraw]

Guess what? I’m re-binge-reading Good Omens. And here are some Obervations that I forgot about and some things I might put in fics. Also things I found funny. Basically my dumb commentary on the book.

Crowley actually flees Sister Mary. He doesn’t saunter vaguely away. He flees.

Ligur is rather more thoughtful than he’s portrayed in the show

Anathema likes to read about herself, and her teachers are confused because she spells words like Agnes Nutter

Crowley apologizes

By page 41, it is mentioned at least twice that Aziraphale and Crowley Do Not choose each other’s company for any reason other than that they are constants, that they have an Arrangement, and that they are Friends because being Enemies got boring.

Aziraphale blushes!!!!!!

The Drunk Scene is fuckin hilarious and it’s actually a lot longer than it is in the show, and really you ought to read it. (Book pages 47-50)

My mom (who has a PhD in human development) would probably like to talk to Crowley about upbringing because they seem to agree on how important it is

War has always looked 25, and had a vulture that died of fatty degeneration

Pollution is very cleverly compared to actual pollution

Warlock has Kermit the frog overalls, and Nanny Ashtoreth is described as someone who “advertises unspecified but strangely explicit services in certain magazines”. The tutors are present for about four paragraphs. Warlock is good at math and likes banana flavored bubblegum.

Crowley has a slice of angel cake. Aziraphale eats it. Aziraphale also eats deviled eggs. Hm.

Crowley calls Aziraphale angel casually enough to suggest he’s been doing it for a long time

Some girl at Warlock’s party calls Aziraphale a f*ggot

Crowley glares suspiciously at a gerbil. It is suggested that Hell has, in the past, sent hell-gerbils in place of hellhounds.

“Oh dear,” muttered Aziraphale, not swearing with the practiced ease of one who has spent six thousand years not swearing, and who wasn’t going to start now.

Adam and his friends play in a place called The Pit, where shopping carts go to die, apparently

Crowley is the first one to mention sides in the book!??!? Also Crowley goes on about how humans are more evil than Hell (but he calls himself evil—is he calling himself human already?)

Aziraphale yells “get off the road, you clown!”

“What’s a velvet underground?” *love confession???* “you wouldn’t like it”

Aziraphale is a bit rude to Crowley in the “flashes of love” scene and Crowley is less panicked about it

Crowley glares at the Bentley and it fixes itself

Anathema’s bike is called Phaeton

COULD THEY ACT ANY MORE MARRIED OH MY GOD

Aziraphale speaks like. Like ugh. “FlOUndeR on tHe rOcKS of inEquiTY”

“Thirty seconds later someone shot both of them. With incredible accuracy.” *cuts to a random pleasant story about Mary Hodges* *cuts back to where Aziraphale has fallen into a rhododendron and Crowley licks the paint before he knows it’s paint* dumbasses

Crowley does not slam Aziraphale into the wall

Crowley is actually pretty impatient and doesn’t argue with Aziraphale when he’s worried

“Nothing but dust and fundamentalists” “that was nasty” “sorry, couldn’t help it”

When the radio sings “Beelzebub has a devil put aside for me,” Crowley sings “for me” and then screams

Crowley asks Aziraphale if he’ll keep in touch, and Aziraphale doesn’t say tickety-boo, and then Crowley says “right” and feels very alone

the international express man is small and has glasses, and wears green woolen socks

The sword, which turns out to be Aziraphale’s, is described as having an aura of hatred and menace, which makes me think of how it could’ve gotten that aura from Heaven or from humanity or from War...

In the book Pepper has red hair and freckles, which makes it a cool comparison to War’s appearance and the defeat of War

Adam is excellent at slouching, apparently

Occasionally, as Aziraphale reads the book, he would very nearly swear

“He wouldn’t have said ‘that’s weird’ if a flock of sheep had cycled past playing violins.”

“If you had told him there were children starving in Africa he would’ve been flattered that you’d noticed.”

“...that he was English, that he was intelligent, and that he was gayer than a tree full of monkeys on nitrous oxide.” (151)

Wensleydale watches David Attenborough programs

Shadwell’s voice is described as “the color of an old raincoat” and seems to fake smoking cigarettes

Aziraphales cocoa is moldy and solidified by the time he calls Arthur Young, and has a thin layer of dust on himself too

Newt says that the walls look like nicotine and the floor looks like cigarette ash, and he suspects both are, actually, coated with these substances

Newt looks a bit like Clark Kent, and people seem to like Shadwell for some reason, much to his annoyance.

Aziraphale calls Shadwell “dear boy” on the phone

Agnes Nutter called God a daft old fool #goals

Adam is wayyyy too good at video games

Smelling Anathema’s perfume makes Newt uncomfortable

Adam suggests that Pepper ought to have Russia cause of her red hair (huh)

Anathema and Newt actually have decent conversations?? Like?? Show??? C’mon, man. The show kinda butchered their relationship.

Trees, apparently, make a ‘vvrooooommm’ sound when they grow very fast

“He suspected that Crowley was from the Mafia, or the underworld, although he would have been surprised how right he nearly was.” Shadwell also thought Aziraphale was a Russian spy. Wow, Shadwell.

Aziraphale calls Crowley and actually says “shut up” to him, and then when the answering machine beeps, he tells Crowley to “stop making noises” and then he swears for the first time ever.

The fuckin’ footnote on page 227

“A sleek computer was the sort of thing Crowley felt that the sort of human he tried to be would have.” I like the word choice here. He’s not pretending to be a human, he’s trying to be one. That’s a really important distinction.

It never actually says what Crowley does to his plants.

Crowley’s flat is very white. Wow, Crowley. It just looks dark because of the lighting. Heaven imagery and symbolism out my ears, goddammit.

Why does Hell say Crowley’s name so much when talking to him?? Honestly, I think that’s an intentional dig at his chosen name, using it in their speech to scare him. Wow, Hell. (And wow, Finn, excellent sentence)

Whenever the book says something is shaped like something, it definitely isn’t that thing. “man-shaped” “dog-shaped” “car-shaped”... makes it pretty obvious they aren’t men, dogs, or cars, huh.

The code to Crowley’s safe is 4004. The year he “slithered onto this stupid, marvelous planet”... and the year he met Aziraphale, of course. Denial ain’t just a river in Egypt, Crowley, my dude.

Crowley consideres sticking Hastur into his car until he turns into Freddie Mercury but then decides even he isn’t that cruel

Actual text that I feel like nobody really agrees with: “Madame Tracy was by many yardsticks quite stupid”

“Do I look like I run a bookshop?” “...imagine me out of uniform, sir, and what kind of man would you see before you? Honestly?” “A prat.”

I’m crying. The fucking bookshop fire scene made me fucking cry. I’m literally crying.

“...on all fours in the blazing bookshop, Crowley cursed Aziraphale, and the ineffable plan, and Above, and Below.” “The police and firemen looked at him, saw the expression on his face, and stayed exactly where they were.” “...a crack of thunder so loud it hurt....” *the sound of Finley sobbing into their cat*

The shortest biker in the cafe thing is 6′2, what the fuck

War, Famine, Pollution, and Pop Trivia 1962-1979

“Pollution removed his helmet and shook out his long white hair. He had taken over when Pestilence, muttering about penicillin, had retired in 1936. If only the old boy had known what opportunities the future had held.” HMMMMMMMMMMM

“There were no bitches in Hell either.” I know it’s talking about female dogs, but I rather thought Hell was full of bitches.

“Why are you talking like a poofter?” “Ah. Australia.”

“gOsh, aM i on teLEviSiON?” (Basically Aziraphale gets passionate about stuff and likes to talk).

Crowley is actually an optimist and doesn’t dwell too much on how sucky the world is. He doesn’t go get smashed in a bar. He just finds Aziraphale’s notes in the book and heads to Tadfield. And also, his new pair of sunglasses just... materializes out of his eyes. And he likes to whistle.

“Death and Famine and War and Pollution continued biking to Tadfield. And Grievous Bodily Harm, Cruelty to Animals, Things Not Working Properly Even After You’ve Given Them A Good Thumping But Secretly No Alcohol Lager, and Really Cool People traveled with them.”

“on top of the pile a rather large octopus waved a languid tentacle at them. The sergeant resisted the temptation to wave back.” Honestly dude, if an octopus waved at me I’d wave back.

Wait Agnes was apparently talking to Shadwell and not God when she said yowe daft old foole. I dunno

Madame Tracy: You old silly. Shadwell: 

Aziraphale does not know how to get rid of demons. Canonically. “Had never done other to get rid of demons than to hint to them very strongly that he, Aziraphale, had some work to be getting on with, and wasn’t it getting late? And Crowley always got the hint.”

The road to Hell is paved with frozen door to door salesmen, apparently. The question is where it is, because the demons always seem to just stem out of the ground.

“Heigh ho,” said Anthony Crowley, and just drove anyway. I love this sentence during that scene. 

I bet Hastur gets really mad whenever he hears Aziraphale’s voice from now on

Crowley isn’t breathing the entire burning Bentley scene

ADAM. SAID. “But I reckon you can make your own side” AND WE FUCKIN IGNORED IT?

The temperature above the M25 was simultaneously 700ºC and -140ºC which makes me think of something I read about magenta not being real. The M25 is magenta.

I feel like “Agnes” is just going to become an inside joke between Anathema and Newt at this point, and it will drive Crowley insane because he knows who she is but somehow still doesn’t get the joke.

I’m six inches taller than R.P. Tyler, and apparently according to the back sleeve of the book jacket, I’m very similar in height to Neil Gaiman

R.P. Tyler thought Shadwell was a ventriloquist’s dummy, and then sees cows doing somersaults

“That’s terrific. Much obliged,” said Crowley. — “Funny weather we’re having, isn’t it?” “Is it? I hadn’t noticed.” “Probably because your car is on fire.” .... Also the fact that Crowley looks like a young man which I find interesting.

“The Four Button-Pressers of the Apocalypse”

“Where is Armageddon, anyway?” “I’ve always meant to look that up.” “There’s an Armageddon, Pennsylvania”

Famine is the one that says “that’s one big avocado”, and also, I find it interesting that War, more than once, talks about love. (All is fair in love and war much?)

Anathema threatens the guard with a stick, pretending it’s a gun

Aziraphale, of course, asks Crowley to sort it out because he, Aziraphale, is “the nice one” and then proceeds to sort it out himself. Because of course he does. Because what else could he possibly do.

I just ADORE THIS BOOK OKAY

I’M PROBABLY GOING TO READ IT AGAIN IN A MONTH

Aziraphale and Crowley are so fuckin married I can’t

[bourbon-ontherocks]

I was tagged many moons ago by @septiembrre  @00gangfriend00 and @lemoncupcake to share my favourite line from EACH ONE of my fic, which is the most sadistic tagging game that I have ever seen: not only does it take forever to complete, but also while it was extremely pleasant to rediscover old fics that I had completely forgotten about it was rather traumatic to realize that everything I’m writing these days thinking that I’m being original I’ve already written before and forgotten about.

- For Love and War

Oh boy, re-reading that was hella embarrassing, God! And you guys kept reading my stuff after that?? So I had a hard time at picking a fave line because I’m mostly meh about this whole fic and especially its writing style, but I guess this one’s worth an honourable mention?

Think you know someone, he thought, and then outta nowhere she shoots you, and then tells you she wants you to kill her before falling in your arms and calling you by your name with pleading eyes that just make you wanna kiss her.

- For Four seasons in one day

Oh oh oh, I know this one!

Life hadn't put Elizabeth Boland on his path, nah, it was way more than that, it had fiercely thrown her through the glassy walls of his life like some wake-up call wrapped in golden curls and giant baby eyes full of inner darkness.

I just like the imagery here!

- For A Reason To Fight

Ugh, this fic is wayyyyy more OOC than I remembered... But I still love the Rio POV chapter very dearly, and especially this line because it was a turning point in my style and the way I use adjectives in my writing:

It's clumsy but he responds, almost out of an automatism, and it's timid, and soft, the way the tips of their tongues meet.

- For While Your Lips Are Still Red

So this fic is actually a pleasant surprise to re-read even such a long time after, obviously the writing could be better but I didn’t die from embarrassment which is a start, I guess. And obviously my favourite line has to be the one about Rio’s handwriting lol

Above the key, with a handwriting that clearly suggested that the person had theoretically heard about the concept of alphabet but never actually seen one, three words were written.

- For Love of the game

God, you still read my stuff after this one?? You’re the real heros here. Honestly it wasn’t that bad on a re-read, like the plot was honourable and the dialogues were okay, but the writing overall... ugh! So it’s hard to pick a fave because nothing actually sparked a specific light, but I did really enjoy most of Annie’s lines in this so maybe

"Oh come on, get a room! I swear I could get pregnant just from the sparks of your eyefucking!"

- For Nauseous

Mhhh, probably

Pulling the trigger in the middle of a kiss definitely sounded like him. Although it had to be kind of messy, right? Probably a lot of pieces of brain and skull to clean off your face afterwards

Because practical yet mildly inappropriate Beth is one of my favourite!

- For He’s not dumb

Not much to see here, but yeah, this one made me raise a brow

The instant is deafening because the sound isn't.

- For Moose hunting

"It lacks small graduations,"

Obviously

- For Something you love

[About Dean’s “you don’t kill something you love”:]

At the end of the day, the accuracy of Dean's epiphany was somehow upsetting.

I just think it’s a funny way to put it haha! Also this fic is actually funnier and less bland than I remembered lol!

- For Your husband won’t like it

Side note: this fic is absolutely hilarious, I should re-read myself more often lol

She mentally scans the sexual list she sent to Mick last night, trying to remember if there was anything in there suggesting that she was even remotely open to the idea of a threesome with him and his boss.

Because I think it’s funny

- For Don’t steal from me

Oh there are a lot of pretty ones in this, but I guess it’s still

The second seemed to stretch into an hour, two people losing their balance at the edge of a cliff and faltering for the excruciating eternity of an instant before falling into the void, swallowed by the ocean.

because I love the imagery so much! Also honorable mention to this foreshadowing of my Dean x Rio x wardrobe shenanigans crush though:

[Dean] developed a strange obsession for counting and recounting his clothes, convinced that Rio wouldn't have passed on an occasion to steal one of his suits

- For It’s all coming back to me now

NONE!!!! This fic is my personal nightmare and I just hate everything about it. Ask again when I’ve finally finished it...

That being said, after a quick scan of the scenes that I know I like, there’s this, which I think was kind of a turning point in my writing style

"Elizabeth." A statement, dipped in light sarcasm.

- For We’re living in a powder keg and giving off sparks

Okay I already knew the answer to this one

The bubble they're living in is as thin and fragile as the wings of the butterflies in her stomach, and she knows it will tear up as soon as she'll step back in the outside world

- For Take a dip

I hadn’t reread this fic in literal ages and turns out it’s way better than I remembered! There are so many cool things that I love about it and had  completely forgotten about oh my gosh!! Picking a fave line was HARD. But maybe

If she was meant to burn her wings, it would be against his flame

But really, there’s competition here

- For Envelopes comin’ in the mail

Obviously my favourite pun ever

He could get high on that sheet.

- For Please don’t remember me for my crimes

Honestly I just love this fic so freaking much I can’t tell, there are so many!!! The level of meta and the humour in this fic made me squeak every two sentence on a re-read... Mick x ghosts! All the easter eggs I planted there and forgot about and just re-discovered! The Stationery Fair!

I really love this one, which marks the beginning of the tense switch and the Encounter:

Something woke him up, a metaphorical clap of thunder

And also the ending which includes one of my favourite imagery - arbored and flowery cemeteries with old graves

But maybe it's just the wind, whispering through the apple trees, and carrying with it the perfume of blooming flowers.

Also honorable mention to this line from @missmaxime comment on that fic which is close to actually be my fave line

Omg Rio, what else is an appropriate reaction when someone switches from 'So, dying hurt or what?' to, 'Excuse me, do you have a vagina?'

- For It Hurts When I See You Struggle

My babbyyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!! I love literally everything from it, I’m just such a proud mama bear about this one!! Now if I have to control myself, I’d say this one for sure:

Anger and hatred spill out of him, soak the sheets, leak down on the carpet, drip along the walls, pour over her head a shower of contempt and dissolve her like acid.

I just love the metaphor and the imagery! And also this one, because *metaphor* and also I just lovvvvvve it

It's as if every part of his body spoke a different language. But eventually these all weave in to create a tapestry of anger and desire, hate and affection, that she's not sure she's ever seen so clearly.

- For Pour me a drink and I’ll tell you some lies

I actually can’t believe that I wrote that, every sentence made me snort so hard!! I forgot about the pompousness AND the innuendos I put in there, and also Fed Up Mick packing the glass away... Man, what happened to me? Why can’t I write stuff like that anymore? God, me x writing were in a really good place last fall

So basically my fave line was all of it. But perhaps this?

Poor babbling ignoramus, so unaware of their divine essence, the millenary dignity of their heritage, too busy as they were wondering with excitement and — should he say it? — horniness about how sparkling drinks feel when they spill inside of you.

Oh wait no, I remember, this is my fave line

But the point is, the other occupants of the sinister cave talk, although he doesn't trust this chatty flute who claims that she's been the witness of Her sparkling glee, or the garbled tales of this garishly daubed mug — ceramics' memory is as porous as their clayey structure and he most certainly won't listen to this chaotic oddball's mish-mash.

- For When I got nothing but my aching soul

I honestly don’t have the energy to re-read the entirety of this fic right now, but I know that I raved in @00gangfriend00 DMs about this line even before it was even written in (and she called it a mic drop), so it must be in the top 3 anyway

Because here's the thing with broken hearts. They never stop beating.

- For I hear her scream (and I feel nothing)

I want to say all of them because I love this fic so much, but if I really need to pick faves, I’d say that it’s a tie between

It's the notion of an answer, rather than its content, that fuels his expectancy.

and

The thought of any Jimmy 2.0 getting off on the live broadcast of her little moans ricocheting against his ear to hit the mike somewhere is enough to give him the hard-on of the century.

I just love the imagery and implications of both!

Oh and also

Gratuitous honesty's never been Elizabeth's forte.

I just love this one too

- For Fifty Percent

Maybe eventually they'll find in each other their missing peace.

I just love word plays. Also this was literally a last-minute addition right before I clicked on ‘post’ and I love when inspiration strikes like that. Also I really like this one which was my initial pick:

But now? The butterflies ballet is nothing but phantomatic.

Tagging absolutely no-one because I wouldn’t wish my sworn enemy to go through this but also if you’re reading this and want to play just consider yourself tagged by me <3