#and you need to interact with people to do that but what if actually you just think i'm annoying but don't want to be mean

[tizeline]

TSAU!Donnie's Ninpō Explained!

The first ability Donnie unlocks is the ability to see mystic energy! Objects or people with with mystic energy has this colourful glowing aura you could call it, the more mystic energy the more brightly is glows. For example - Mikey already has a very bright aura naturally, which becomes even brighter when he is actively using magic! ..... All of this is to say, Donnie found that out the hard way when he used his mystic sight on Mikey when he was using magic and Donnie as a result got a little bit fucking blinded!

All yōkai and mutants are naturally mystic in nature, they always have a visable aura because of that. Humans are not mystic, so they don't have that aura. HOWEVER! Humans can learn how to use magic through certain means like, y'know, Ninpō for example! When a human uses magic, they do have mystic aura, but only while actively using mystic powers.

(Also Donnie totally accidentally discovered that the "teapot" had bad vibes because his mystic sight lol)

After a while Donnie is able to start making constructs out of his Ninpō. Initially however, he can't really form complex designs, it's mostly just blocks and walls, very simplistic shapes. But it turns out he can use these simpler constructs as effective shields! Which is good considering his soft shell as well as the fact that his battle shell in the AU wasn't built to be used as armour. Both he and April gets a lot of use out of the extra defense.

With quite a bit of practice Donnie is able to actually generate specific and more complex designs! Which means that yes, to the horror of friend and foe alike, Donnie can and will summon an entire arsenal of firepower, yikes. He's not limited to firearms though, he's able to generate all kinds of technology and machinery (drill!!!!)

To create these mystic contructs, it does require Donnie to have a good understanding of what it looks like, how it functions, etc. His imagination and his knowledge of technology are what sets a lot of the limits on what he is able to create, if he can build it in his lab then he can build it with his Ninpō. This particular ability requires a lot complex thought, if Donnie wasn't so smart he wouldn't be able to pull it off as well as he does.

Another limitation is that maintaining the contsructs is very energy-consuming, he'll quickly exhaust himself if he keeps them around. He'll usually only summon constructs very briefly for an attack and then immedietly dismiss them.

The way that Donnnie's Ninpō manifests itself is already very technology-oriented, because of that he can interact with ordinary technology through his Ninpō. Personally I haven't figured out the details of what exactly that can look like, but there's definitely a lot of possibilities to explore here.

One thing though, as Donnie's Ninpō grows more and more powerful overtime, a side-effect of that is that if he gets really pissed off or otherwise very emotional, he'll accidentally make the technology in his near viscinity go haywire lmao. (This has the risk of making him even more angry, which just worsens the problem, and so on haha)

I really like the idea of Donnie being the second most powerful mystic user out of his brothers, after Mikey of course. And because he's mostly self-trained, he doesn't have the best understanding of how to properly control his powers, which evidently can become a bit of a problem. Donnie eventually agrees to let Draxum help him get a better grasp on his mystic abilities after the Hamatos and the Draxums become more friendly with each other.

So uh. About how Donnie kinda accidentally infused Shelldon with mystic energy while creating him which caused the robot to develop a kind of soul? Yeah so because of that Shelldon's mystic energy if linked to Donnie's, which means that Shelldon more or less gains access to the same abilities as Donnie does! He's not quite as powerful as Donnie, and he still needs to practice to fully get a grasp on these powers as well. But point is, that's how Shelldon gains acess to Ninpō in the AU! (He also notices their fucked up "teapot")

----------

Anyway that basically summarizes it! A lot of these ideas are headcanons I have for canon!Donnie as well honestly, the AU is just an excuse to explore these concepts. Donnie's ability to summon fucking firearms and military equipment is also something I've thought about, I wanted to try to think how it would work for him while also putting some limitations on it. ANOTHER THING I like the idea of Donnie's tech constructs basically being the same ability as when Raph creates constructs of himself. The difference lies with that Donnie is a massive nerd so his first instinct is to recreate his own tech with the Ninpō. While Raph being someone who is already so physically strong would naturally use his Ninpō to recreate his own greatest weapon, which is himself. (Donnie uses his brain, Raph uses his brawn, who would've guessed)

[ravensincowboyhats]

(I’m a little off topic sorry)

“*just ate lunch really fast* I’m literally so insane guys”

“*drops something and doesn’t pick it up* that’s just because I’m mentally ill”

“*is tired and typing slowly* ugh my autism is playing up”

^ all actual quotes from interactions I still remember, because every time someone says things like this when it doesn’t apply to them - especially when they keep doing it mindlessly after you tell them you ARE mentally ill/autistic/adhd/ocd/dyslexic etc and that talking bs about smth you have very little understanding of is not helpful at all - I want to scream. It’s genuinely humiliating to hear someone joke about and mischaracterise something that is a fundamental part of you that you struggle with and/or are unfairly judged for.

So like. Please don’t spread misinformation or participate in harmful stereotyping. It reflects badly on people you won’t even meet.

(— a non-psychotic person)

P.S.: you can just say ‘what a dick’ in a wide range of bad British accents when someone does smth you don’t like, you don’t need to use words you don’t understand.

stop fucking using the word psychotic to describe bad behaviour and violence already god fucking damn it

[imjustdreamingig]

Isn't that sweet, I guess so

Part 1, Part 2

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

summary: The secret's out, Steve's proud of himself, and you can't seem to keep your mouth shut

A/N: chat there is no way I put out 2 fic in the past week, this has never happened to me before! yay everyone cheer. again, i have no idea where this story is going how far im gonna go, i def want to try writing other stuff and idk if this is the best place to put and end to whatever this series is but again, we shall see i guess. thank you all so much on the love on my last two works you have no idea what that means to me! please please PLEASE send me asks or comment what you'd like me to write next or if you want a pt4 i need help people

warnings: sfw, swearing, fluff, idiots who like each other

Facing your fears is tough. No matter what it is, no one would actually choose putting themselves through a situation in which they know would cause them extreme distress. For some that may be going on a rollercoaster, interacting with a clown, going into a dark forrest alone, it could even be making a phone call by yourself to schedule a doctor's appointment (which is a valid fear to have, thank you very much.)

And here you were, facing your fears: being sat in your living room with Steve Harrington 3 feet away from you for an extended period of time. It's only been about 15 minutes, where no talking has happened since minute two.

You hope you can get to 30 minutes without fainting.

As you attempted to focus on the book in front of you, Jane Austen's words, who usually kept your focused for hours on end, were not being absorbed by you in the slightest. How could they, when Steve fucking Harrington was in your house.

Steve is the type of guy who Jane Austen would write about, you thought, eyes flickering towards him as he hunched over his book, face crinkled in concentration, trying to understand said author's musings.

The swoop of his hair, the two moles near his neck, his deep, beautiful, chocolate eyes, his gorgeous smile, and my god those arms? Yep, Jane would be absolutely obsessed with him.

"God, why did I agree to do this book?" You are snapped out of your daze at Steve's words. "What do you mean?", you replied. He gave you a look that can only be described as "seriously?"

"I mean, that I can barley understand what any of these characters are saying half the time, and honestly, it's a bit boring. I thought you would have better book recommendations," he said, running a hand through his hair to push it out of his face.

A scoff left your mouth before you could stop it. "Excuse me, are you actually hating on Pride and Prejudice, the best romance story of all time, the romance story, period." You leaned over and snatched his book. "I mean, come on! You are literally only 6 pages in, you can't just judge it that quickly, you haven't even gotten to the good parts yet!", you exclaim.

Steve watched you with an amused look on his face, unbeknownst to you, who kept rambling on, trying to convince Steve this book was worth continuing.

"— and Elizabeth, she is just funny, like actually hilarious. There is one part where she basically tells someone that I'd rather not be wasting my air talking to someone like you, like please, how did she even come up with that? Also, I'm just obsessed with this proper English style of speaking, or writing I guess, because they're basically talking shit but covering it up with fancy words! And when—"

"You talk a lot, don't you?"

You look up from the book and towards Steve, eyes widening slightly, realizing you had indeed been talking too much.

"One of my greatest faults, some may say, and by faults I mean my mom, but she only tells me this when we're arguing, so..." You glance away from Steve's face for a little reprieve. God, he's so hot.

"Well, like a good partner," you continue. "I'm trying to help you get some of this project done, and maybe if Robin were here, she could've helped," you defended yourself, crossing your arms, "which I'm still confused about, by the way. You said something about her telling you earlier how I invited you guys and some other people to work on the project together, but then she doesn't show?"

Steve leans back in his chair, also crossing his arms. You glance down for a quick second and send a quick thank you to anyone who's that Steve is wearing a tight shirt that beautifully enunciates his biceps. Or maybe you should be mad at them, you don't know yet.

"Maybe it's the fact that she noticed, like I did, that it's been a month since this project was assigned and we haven't even started," Steve countered, "which is unlike you, you usually want to get stuff done ASAP."

You look at him in confusion. "How the fuck do you know that?"

Steve smirks, "I also happen to know that you don't have a sister, thanks to that lovely dinner with your mom." You shake your head in disbelief, mentally making a note to yell at your mom later.

"Isn't that what you said one of the many times I asked you to work on the project?" Steve looked so amused with himself, all cocky and proud that he had uncovered your lie. Your brain tried desperately to come up with a realistic enough explanation, but nothing was coming up.

You throw your hands up in defeat. "Ok, fine! I lied! Is it just so hard for you to believe that maybe, just maybe, not everyone in that high school wants to spend time with you outside of it?" Oh my God, why the fuck would you say that, you screamed internally.

Steve stared at you for a second before letting out a chuckle. " You know, I did think of that actually, but only for a bit." He reaches out for the book and grabs it from your grasp, flipping to a random page.

"You can only run away from a guy so many times before he catches a hint," he peers over at you, " and I mean literally, you're a fast runner, did you ever do track?"

"Yeah, in middle school," you answer quickly. Steve lets out a hum of agreement before placing his attention back on the book. You open your mouth, about to quip about being careful to not rip the pages when he speaks again. "I know I'm dumb, but I'm not an idiot, ya know?"

Your gaze snaps to his face. "Steve, I don't think you're dumb." He doesn't look too convinced. "Eh, I think you do. But you're interesting, you took me a lot longer to figure out than the others since girls just typically throw themselves at me."

You make a face of disgust, "Ok, you sound like a total prick, you know."

"Yep, heard it after I said it, but that's not the point here." He point his finger at you, "You have a crush on me."

You splutter out a sound of indignation. "Hello, what?" In your head, fire alarms are sounding. It's a code red, all hell is breaking loose. "Pfft, no I absolutely do not."

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Then how else do you explain the running away when you see me anywhere at school? You always have an insane excuse why we're not able to meet up to start the project, which some are hilarious," he admits, "but you've got me complaining about not doing homework, look what you've done to me!"

At this point you've gone silent, mouth agape with an excuse stuck in your throat refusing to come out. Steve's expression has changed, his eyes bore into yours with earnest, almost as if he's anticipating a certain answer, hoping for it. "So?"

You muster all the courage you have left and just when you're about to respond, Steve interrupts you again for like, the 15th time.

"Anyways, I've to get going, have some things to do and whatever." He gets up, shrugs on his jacket and then places his books in his backpack. You get up too, having absolutely no clue how to tell him not to go, that you want him to stay. "Steve, what do you mean?"

He glances over at you, "Nothing, I just have to go. I'm a busy guy." He starts making his way to your front door, leaving you behind in the kitchen, trying to understand what the fuck just happened. First, he accuses you of having a crush on him, which you do, and then he just thinks he can leave?

Oh, absolutely not.

With a new wave of determination, you catch up to Steve just as he's finishing putting on his shoes. "Say thanks to your mom for me for dinner, it was great," he says as he grabs the door handle. You don't let him continue with whatever stupid thing he was going to say next.

"Listen Harrington, I don't know what the fuck just happened back there, but the fact you think can just, leave after dropping a bomb like that is ridiculous," you say, glaring at him in annoyance, and Steve's just staring back at you with that stupid, stupid, smirk that has not left his face since the moment he stepped foot in here.

"So what if I did like you, huh? What if I did have a crush on you? Because I do, but that, quite frankly, is none of your business, none of your concern, actually, so... yeah." Steve is looking at you and you're looking at him, a little out of breath after your declaration. You don't have the energy right now to fully process what you just said.

All of a sudden, Steve seems to break character, the smugness gone, replaced with subtle endearment. He leans down and presses a swift kiss on your cheek before whispering, "Well, it's a good thing I like you too." He straightness back up and says, "I told you I knew you were different, you're a mystery. You're lucky running away seemed to work on me, by the way. I don't think it would for everyone else," he says while you stare at him in shock. You've been rendered silent once again, with nothing but the thought that Steve likes you back, repeating over and over again.

You clear your throat before speaking, "Well! Um, yay?" You truly have no idea what to do right now. Steve chuckles at your reaction, like he can't believe his words have caused you of all people, who continuously talk and talk and talk, to not have anything profound to say for once. He's kind of into it.

Steve grabs your hand and encases it with the other. "Come over to my house tomorrow after school, I'll drive you. We can work on the project and you know, talk, if you want." You nod fervently, "Yeah, yeah ok."

He smiles and drops your hand. "I really do have to go though, I wasn't making that up," he remarks as he opens the front door. "Oh, sure, that's fine," you reply. You hold open the door for him and watch as he descends the steps and makes his way towards his car. You watch him, holding onto the door for dear life.

As Steve gets into the car, he looks over at you and waves, "I'll see you tomorrow!" You wave back and yell back, "Yeah, tomorrow!" You don't go back inside until the car is out of sight. As you shut the door, you press your back against it, trying to wrap your head around what exactly happened in the last few hours.

Holy shit, you though, Steve Harrington likes me. Steve fucking Harrington. You let out an involuntarily squeal of excitement and immediately regret doing it as your mother calls down from upstairs. "Mija, are you ok? What happened?" Hearing her voice reminds you of her involvement over the events that transpired tonight.

Putting your happiness on hold for a moment, you start to storm up the stairs. "Mom!", you yelled, "How could you embarrass me like that, asking him to stay over for dinner, you know how I feel about him, I just about fainted 5 times throughout the night, how does that make you feel!? You almost killed me an—"

You would thank your mom later, because ultimately she helped, but for now, you'll stick to this.

[wordsmeetwbb]

The Chains Stay ON

Word count: 3.1k

Content: smut

Pairing: Pazzi

Notes: This is my first attempt at writing smut and tbh I think it turned out really good but like. It's also pure filth that I wrote at 2am and edited this morning so consider this your warning. As always, let me know what you think!

________

Azzi couldn’t stop staring at Paige. She knew she was being obvious, she knew people online would clip this entire event and dissect every interaction, but she couldn’t help herself. Paige looked fucking incredible.

The team had gone to a Connecticut Sun game tonight, and Azzi truly felt bad about her lack of attention to the actual game thus far. Somehow, she had gotten through the whole bus ride to the arena without interacting with Paige, but that ended quickly as the team took their seats, with Paige plopping down in the seat right next to Azzi.

Azzi’s eyes had a mind of their own, roaming over Paige’s face, down to her arms, her chest, and always dragging back to her neck where two silver chains rested. Azzi swallowed thickly.

“Hello? Az, are you even listening to me?” Paige snapped her fingers in front of Azzi’s face. She blinked, startled out of her visual perusal of Paige’s body.

“Uh, yeah? No. What?” Paige snorted.

“You’re so not locked in right now. If you were looking at me I would be like, fine, whatever, but you’re not! Pay attention to me!” Paige complained. Azzi swatted her arm.

“Oh, hush. I pay you plenty of attention. If you really loved me, you’d give me a break and go whine to somebody else for once.” Lies. Azzi was lying through her teeth. She didn’t want Paige to go anywhere. She wanted the blonde to stay in the seat right next to her so Azzi could continue to stare at how those silver chains rested against her throat, draping down to sit between her collarbones. She blinked again, trying to pull herself out of the Paige-induced haze so she could actually listen to her girlfriend.

“Hey, what’s up with you? You’re not listening to me,” Paige whined again. Correct. Azzi hadn’t even realized Paige was still talking. She was too busy looking at her to practice active listening. Azzi blushed. Paige’s eyebrows raised.

“You gonna tell me, or do I have to pry it out of you?” Azzi sighed dramatically, slumping back into her seat. Against her will, her eyes wandered right back to Paige’s neck. She wanted to kiss her way down the skin there hard enough to leave bruises where the chains rested. The brunette crossed her legs, too aware of the warmth between them.

Paige looked down at herself, trying to follow Azzi’s line of sight. Azzi sighed loudly again, blushing a deep, embarrassing shade of pink. Paige was so adorable when she was confused, but she needed her to understand faster so she didn’t have to explain what had her so hot and bothered.

“Paige,” Azzi said firmly.

“What? Baby, I don’t know what you’re looking at. I just know you’re blushing real pretty right now and I want to know why.” Azzi couldn’t stand it anymore. She looked Paige right in the eyes, fisting her hands in her lap so they wouldn’t get any ideas and reach up to touch the chains that were taunting her so badly. She took a deep breath, taking a little glance around to make sure none of their teammates were listening too closely to what they were talking about.

“You look… really hot with those chains on,” Azzi mumbled, face flushing an even darker shade of red.

“Baby, what? It’s loud as hell in here, I didn’t get any of that.” Azzi wanted a sinkhole to open up under Mohegan Sun and swallow them all so she didn’t have to repeat that sentence. Lord knows Paige’s ego didn’t need to hear it twice. She wished she could just whisper it into Paige’s ear, but the chance of somebody in the crowd recording it was too high. She groaned and leaned only slightly closer to Paige.

“You look hot with those chains on,” she said, with more volume in her voice this time. She wasn’t letting there be any chance of Paige making her say it a third time.

A hint of surprise fluttered over Paige’s face, but it was quickly replaced with that all-too-familiar smirk. Azzi would never tell Paige, but it made her squeeze her legs together just a little bit tighter.

“You like them, baby?” Paige murmured, voice somehow loud enough for Azzi to hear her over the noise of the arena. It made her think that Paige definitely heard her the first time and just wanted to make her suffer. Azzi gave up and let her head fall into her hands dramatically. Paige poked her shoulder, waiting for confirmation. Azzi knew that being in public was saving her from having to reply for real. She nodded into her hands.

“Hey, come back up here. I love it when you blush like that for me. So pretty, baby.” Azzi was going to die in Mohegan Sun at the ripe age of 21. She took a deep breath, praying that she had composed herself enough for the whole world not to know just how turned on she was right now. She straightened back up, trying to pretend like she was paying any kind of attention to the basketball game.

“There you go, good girl.” Azzi whacked Paige on the knee.

“Stop it. Stop or I’m gonna do something inappropriate in a very public place with lots of cameras, and then we won’t be private or a secret,” Azzi hissed. Paige just laughed. The audacity of this girl to look the way she did, get Azzi all turned on, tease her in public, and then laugh? She scowled at Paige. Paige shut up.

“Az, wait, I’m sorry for laughing. You’re sitting here all turned on, staring at me, and I’m being an ass.” This is genuinely one of the worst apologies Azzi has ever heard. The lack of amusement on her face must be as obvious as it feels because Paige starts backtracking.

“Azzi, baby, look at me. Please.” Azzi doesn’t have it in herself to disobey. And who is she to pass up a chance to look at Paige right now? God, she looks sinfully good.

“I shouldn’t have laughed at you. That’s my bad. I’m gonna make it up to you, I swear,” Paige promises, looking very sincere. Azzi raises her eyebrows skeptically.

“How are you gonna do that?” She questions. A grin spreads across Paige’s face.

“You said you like the chains, right? Got you all wet and needy?” Azzi wants to protest, but Paige isn’t wrong. “I see you with your legs crossed, ma, you’re not subtle.”

“I’m not seeing how this is you making anything up to me-” Azzi starts, but Paige interrupts her.

“You want me to fuck you with the chains on, baby?” Fuck. Just the words have Azzi absolutely dripping. She almost lets a whimper slip out, but clamps her mouth shut at the last minute.

“Yes,” she whispers. Paige looks entirely too satisfied with the way this conversation has turned out. Infuriatingly, it just turns Azzi on more. Damn this woman.

“Didn’t know the NIL money would come with this benefit,” Paige muses. Azzi is in her own personal hell.

“I need you to shut up. Immediately. Yesterday,” Azzi demands. Paige snorts.

“Yes, ma’am.”

________

Azzi doesn’t know what Paige told Jana and Allie or where the two girls went upon the team’s return to campus. Frankly, she doesn’t care. All she cares about is that Paige’s bedroom door is locked swiftly and the apartment beyond it is empty.

Paige is on Azzi as soon as the door is closed, shoving her up against the wood and trailing kisses from her mouth to her jaw to her neck. Actually, it’s more like Paige licking her way down Azzi’s skin. Either way, it feels incredible.

“Please, please,” she mumbles. She’s already begging, although she’s not entirely sure what for.

“Shh ma, just hold on. I’m gonna get you right, don’t you even worry,” Paige reassures Azzi against her skin. Something about it reminds Azzi of her thoughts from earlier. She lifts her head away from the door, trailing her eyes down to where Paige is mouthing at her collarbones, just above the neckline of her tank top. In a feat of pure willpower, Azzi flips their positions so Paige is the one pressed against the door. Paige gasps and immediately starts to protest. “Just shut the hell up,” Azzi demands as she begins to place wet kisses across Paige’s jaw. Her skin is warm and Paige smells so good, as she always does. Azzi’s mouth reaches the hinge of Paige’s jaw and she nips at the skin softly, not hard enough to bruise. Paige groans.

“God, baby, feels so good. Mark me the fuck up.” Azzi pushes her surprise away in favor of getting back to work. Who would she be to pass up a rare opportunity to claim her girlfriend? She bites a little harder at the spot from before, then licks over it with her tongue when Paige moans. Encouraged, Azzi makes her way down Paige’s neck, sucking in some places and biting in others, until Paige’s neck is riddled with red and purple splotches and covered in Azzi’s saliva.

Azzi finally pulls back to look at her handiwork, incredibly satisfied with herself. Paige looks desperate. Her neck glistened from Azzi’s mouth, her pupils were blown so wide her blue irises were barely visible, and she had tugged her hair free from the bun it had been in. She’s panting, staring at Azzi with unrestrained want. Azzi lets her focus go back to Paige’s neck. The silver chains glistening there really do look pretty against the newly mottled skin. She swallows, letting her hand drift up to play with the metal, warmed by Paige’s body.

Paige seems to have finally had enough teasing, because the next thing Azzi knows, she’s on her back in the middle of Paige’s bed.

“Off, off, I want these off,” Paige is saying, hands pulling at Azzi’s clothes. It’s not like she was wearing much of anything to begin with, just a tank top and a pair of too-short denim shorts, but within seconds the fabric is gone from her body, leaving her only in a pair of lace panties. The cool air makes Azzi shiver, nipples perking up from the chill.

Paige’s focus zeroes in on her tits, tongue immediately coming to lick over one nipple, hand squeezing the other gently, then pinching the nipple. Azzi gasps. It feels incredible, but this is not what she’s been thinking about all day. She tugs Paige back up to eye level, bringing their lips back together. Paige’s tongue is immediately against Azzi’s, but Azzi is mumbling demands.

“You gotta get naked too,” she whines, voice far more breathy than she wants it to be, but if Paige didn’t already know how needy she was, Azzi had bigger issues than what she sounded like. Paige’s clothes were off in seconds, leaving her in boxers and her sports bra. And those irresistible chains, of course. Still more clothes than Azzi in just her panties, but definitely an improvement.

Paige’s hand came down to Azzi’s stomach, fingers brushing over her abs teasingly on their way down to where Azzi was aching for her.

“Paige, please,” she pleaded.

“Please, what, baby? Gotta tell me what you want.” Azzi was going to cry if Paige didn’t touch her in the next five seconds. It’s that desperation that makes her give in immediately. She doesn’t have the willpower to resist Paige today.

“Touch me, please baby. Need your fingers on me, please, please, need it so bad-” Azzi cuts herself off with a moan when Paige presses her fingers over Azzi’s clothed clit. Her eyes roll back, but fly back open when she feels cold metal bump against her chin. “Fuck. Oh, fuck.” It seems to be the only word she can remember as Paige’s chains dangle in her face.

“There you go, baby. Is that better?” It’s not, really. Paige isn’t moving her fingers, and she’s still not really touching Azzi. Just that teasing presence over the fabric of her panties. Azzi bucks her hips against Paige’s hand in an effort to get what she wants.

“Is this not enough, baby? I’m touching you. What do you want?” Azzi is going to scream if Paige keeps this cocky attitude up and doesn’t fuck her like she needs. She almost gets sassy with her response until Paige moves her fingers against her clit, rubbing slow little circles over the fabric. Azzi groans, so hopelessly soaked through her underwear that the lace is practically see-through.

“Fuck. Please, Paige, please just fuck me. I need your fingers inside, please. Gotta feel it, need it, please.” She sounds pathetic, she knows. Paige doesn’t usually make her beg like this, but god, being forced to say exactly what she wants is doing sinful things to Azzi.

“I got you, good girl, so good begging for me,” Paige praises. Azzi’s head flops back onto the pillow and she immediately misses the light presence of the chains in her face. It’s quickly forgotten as Paige pulls Azzi’s panties off, throwing them somewhere to the side of the bed in favor of quickly slipping one finger into Azzi’s pussy.

“Fuck, baby, so wet for me. You feel that?” Paige already sounds like she’s going crazy, her voice hoarse and low. Azzi can barely focus on the words the blonde is saying. She’s too busy squirming closer to Paige’s hand, trying to get that singular finger deeper inside of her. She needs more and Paige is too busy talking to give it to her.

“Shh, honey, just relax. I gotchu, you know that,” Paige soothes, leaning down to press soft kisses to Azzi’s lips. The action drags the chains against Azzi’s face in the most delightful way. It almost makes Azzi miss the way Paige’s finger starts to move inside her, dragging out and then pushing right back in slowly. She moans desperately, still wiggling against Paige. She needs her deeper, faster, more fingers, anything.

“More, please, Paige, I can take another,” she begs. Paige finally obliges her, sliding another finger in alongside the first and continuing to fuck in and out of Azzi’s pussy. Azzi moans. One of her hands drifts up, tangling in the hair at the nape of Paige’s neck. Then it drifts down, sliding over the fresh hickeys on her throat that are getting darker by the minute. Her hand finally comes to rest on the silver chains, fingers wrapping around the strands of metal just for something to hold onto. Her eyes won’t leave the way they gleam against Paige’s skin, swinging back and forth as Paige’s arm moves.

Between her legs, Azzi can feel her wetness dripping onto the bed. She knows Paige’s hand is probably drenched, and that mental image only makes her wetter.

“There you go, baby. Doin’ so good for me, taking me so well. Fuck, look at you. Fucking soaked, Az. Can you hear that?” Paige takes a break from her fuck-drunk rambling so Azzi can hear the sound her body makes when Paige’s fingers slide in and out. It even sounds like she’s drenched. Azzi throws her head back on the pillow again, pulling Paige’s chains right along with her. Paige follows her down, licking a stripe up Azzi’s neck while she’s there.

“Gettin’ close, ma?” Azzi nods desperately, feeling her stomach get tighter with every stroke of Paige’s fingers into her sopping wet center. “Fuck, yeah, I know you are. Squeezing me so tight, baby. Just sucking me up. Need me that bad, right baby?” Paige’s thumb drags circles around Azzi’s clit. She lets out a high whine. Paige has yapped for every minute of her life, she’s sure, but the absolute filth she’s saying right now has Azzi teetering right on the edge of her climax, biting her lip, and her stomach tenses.

“Let go, Az. Just relax and let yourself cum. All over me, baby, come on. Want it dripping down my hand. Please, I know you’re almost there.” Paige’s words, begging her to come, combined with the feeling of her damned silver chains dragging against Azzi’s throat now that she’s released her grip on them, send her over the edge.

Azzi cums with a cry, high-pitched moans and Paige’s name falling from her lips. Paige fucks her through it, fingers still moving inside her, thumb still circling her clit until Azzi is trembling from overstimulation, begging Paige to stop.

“Please, please, too much, Paige-” Azzi pushes Paige’s hand away from her, collapsing against the mattress, panting as she tries to recover. When she forces her eyes open to look at her girlfriend, Azzi finds Paige already staring at her. Her pupils are still blown wide, her body glistening with sweat, her hair messy (probably Azzi’s fault), and she thinks Paige has never looked hotter.

“What?” Azzi demands softly. “I’ll get you in a minute, don’t worry,” she promises. Paige shakes her head and melts into Azzi, wrapping her in her pale arms.

“Did so good for me, baby. So good,” she mumbles into Azzi’s collarbones. Azzi’s hand comes up to brush through Paige’s hair gently, a smile falling onto her lips, blushing lightly at the praise. Paige was starting to crush her under her weight, but it felt so good that she kept quiet, one hand moving down from Paige’s hair to stroke up and down her back.

“Hey, let me take care of you now,” Azzi said, starting to roll herself out from under Paige. Paige just tightened her arms.

“In a minute. That was so hot. You’re so hot. Everything about that was just… really insanely hot. I think I’m buffering. Give me a minute,” Paige mumbled into Azzi’s skin. Azzi laughed, bringing a hand to Paige’s chin and tilting her face up to meet her eyes.

“That was really hot,” she agreed. Paige grinned.

“I should wear chains more often,” she mused. Azzi groaned, letting Paige’s face drop back into the crook of her neck.

“I swear, I can’t tell you anything.” She complained. Paige just laughed, and Azzi couldn’t do anything but laugh with her. Of course Paige would give her the best orgasm of her life and her takeaway from the experience would be fashion advice. Azzi couldn’t argue with the idea, though. She sighed.

“As long as the chains stay on during sex,” she agreed.

“Hell yeah. High five, dude.” Azzi groaned and pushed Paige away.

“Shut up or I’m not helping you get off.” Paige shut up.

[crazy-lazy-elder-sims]

I dont understand this community what do they even want ??

you get annoyed when people post "too much"* and dont support them because it clutters your dash but you get annoyed when people post "too little"* and you ignore them because you need constant posts from them to realize they exsist

You get annoyed when someone wants alittle more visibility and reach for thier art than likes because for some reason you feel personally pressured even though no one even spoke to you and you get annoyed when someones art doesn't reach you specifically because how dare people not cater to you specifically and labour to get what you like to you without any effort on your part

You take it personally when someone reblogs thier own stuff on their blog for different timezones and think its attention seeking behavior thats meant to make you specifically feel guilty

If anyone even express how sad they are there isnt much interaction on thier stuff from the general public you take it personally and act like its directed at you specifically, like someone is putting you on trial with their very general post

But when someone doesnt say anything at all and doesnt interact with you specifically you get mad and feel alienation

WHAT DO YOU WANT?? whats the end goal here if no one posts their stuff more than once and no one reblogs anything at all and no one talks or interacts fearing pissing you off what then? Do you want to be locked in a vacuum chamber and just stop being aware that other people exsist just content to look at? Delete your blog and go scroll Instagram instead then what the actual fuck??

Stop treating everything and everyone like its made to cater to you specifically everyone has thier own space on the internet and are allowed to set expectations within it we dont all exsist to entertain you specifically stop policing people's expectations and blogs let people live goddammit what the hell???

*there is no such thing as posting too much or too little its your blog do what you want forever

[signanothername]

Hi Anó! Do you have any advice for writing characters like killer? How do you achive that nuance? I love your comics and would love to learn about your artistic process a bit!

Hi Gal!! A delight to see you in my inbox! <3

Omg thank you sm hcchhcchch (have you seen your own comics???? *shakes you* /pos)

Ok but I say this genuinely, I think your ideas and comics are such a beautiful and refreshing take on these blorbos, you’re doing such an amazing job both writing and art wise (your 2 Killers idea is so fucking good eeeeee) <3333

Ok to the question xgzggxzg

Killer is definitely.. complicated to write, I struggle with him sometimes ngl shshhdh

I honestly went and reread his entire comics, lore and answered asks to get a deeper look into him to be able to write him

But when it comes to writing him, I generally try to keep 6 things in mind at all times

1-trauma: how does the resets, working for Chara, having his code get manipulated and killing over and over again till what was new became something old affect him? (the whole idea of Killer killing people started as an offer of trying something new, so he kept killing till he got bored and killing became something stagnant)

This can easily be portrayed in Killer’s canon inability to till what’s real or not, as well as his hallucinations and the guilt he’s ridden with, always running from his past yet never outrunning it, as it always catches up to him

2- conditioning: his conditioning started from the days of Chara, then continued into his days with Nightmare, how does his conditioning affect him in his daily life?

How was he conditioned specifically? And how does that contribute to Killer’s perception of self, autonomy, self worth, and life in general? How does it change his body and mind?

Does it make him believe he’s just a machine meant to please others even when it hurts him, does it make Killer perceive vulnerability as a death sentence

How does he feel about his masters? Does he hate them down to every bone, or does he not care?

3-personality: Killer’s personality always change depending on the stage, but what are the main traits that you know Killer will always have regardless of the stage? Being quiet is one thing, he keeps to himself (as much as the fandom loves to portray him as extremely hyperactive, he’s not at all the loud, talkative, hyperactive skelle the fandom makes him out to be)

He’s also extremely secretive, seems to have knowledge that others don’t, and seems to always be up for a social interaction regardless of who’s with him

He’s also actually extremely patient (another thing the fandom stripped away from Killer’s character), and is very docile (isn’t aggressive unless pushed and never is an attack on sight kinda person) yet holds a grudge big time

He seems to see himself as superior over others, he’s extremely fucking intelligent it’s actually scary

These traits are something I try to keep consistent within my writing for Killer

4- relationships: what are his relationships with other characters like, and why?

Taking the 3 points before into consideration, how does Killer’s trauma, conditioning, and personality make him perceive others and others perceive him?

Are his relationships healthy? Toxic? Are they one sided or mutual? Does he care about the person in his vicinity or are they just another nobody? If he cares why? If he doesn’t what would he do to them?

Would he take advantage of his relationship with someone or is it a relationship he wishes for it to vanish?

5-stages: I think this is truly what makes Killer extremely complicated, cause see all of the 4 points above? how does each stage differ from each other?

How does stage 1 deal with his guilt/truama and conditioning? How does stage 2, 3, and 4 deal with them?

Depending on each stage Killer’s outward perception, personality, attitude, thoughts, and actions change

But how do they change exactly?

This is something that you need to understand each stage for to be able to integrate into writing

Stage 1 is the stage where he’s most sans like, yet never sans enough, stage 2 is when he’s apathetic to everyone and everything and perceives killing as “fun” because he’s painfully understimulated , stage 3 is when he’d attack whoever is in front of him, and stage 4 is when killer is no longer present mentally

How does each stage deal with his environment, with the people around him, how does he deal with the dissociation and how does he perceive himself in each stage?

6-environments: how does the environment Killer lives in affect him?

Killer starts in an environment of time loops, how does that affect his perception of time and reality? He then becomes Nightmare’s subordinate, a dangerous environment with constant threats to his life from every angle, how does Killer feel about it? How does he deal with it?

Will he get to try his luck and escape, or has he given up on himself and the idea of freedom? Does he even believe he has a chance for a better life in a safer environment? Will he go for a safer environment or will he cling to the comfort of what he knows?

When he does finally go to a safer environment, how would that affect him? Both positively and negatively? Would he feel like something is missing? Would his mind constantly tell him that this safe environment isn’t really safe?

Then of course, beyond these main 6 things, there’s the in between, what are Killer’s likes? His dislikes? How does he feel about sleep, food?

Generally when writing characters, it’s important to keep in mind interpersonal factors, intrapersonal factors and environmental factors that ends up affecting the character’s behavior, or in this specific situation, Killer’s behavior (god I’m realizing how much my uni major affects my writing of characters rn chchc)

But I say the biggest life saving advice I have that helps with writing characters in general (and especially complicated ones like Killer) is having the question “why” as your closest friend

When you make a statement about a character, in this instance Killer, always attach the question “why” at the end till you can’t attach it anymore, until you reach a point where asking “why” becomes unnecessary and annoying

For example:

“Killer loves golden flower tea”

Why?

It reminds him of the bed of golden flowers he passed out on

Why does that matter?

Because it was the point of no return from a change that will always dictate who he is

Why is it a point of no return?

Because his soul had deformed beyond recognition and it can never be brought back to how it used to be

Why would it dictate who he is? Why can’t he just choose to be someone else?

Because he was conditioned to be this killer by a higher power out of his control

At this point, there are no more “why”s that would make something as simple as a golden flower tea statement more nuanced than it already is, so when you ask why again, you find that you’re unable to continue giving an answer, that’s the point of where you stop

In fact, allow me to test you by giving you a quick question about your own interpretation of the characters, why does your Nightmare admire Error? What is in Error that Nightmare admires specifically?

Of course, you don’t really need to answer me, but I’m just giving you an example of how asking “why” can help you make so many simple things more nuanced

Ok but what if you know there should be an answer to a “why” but you don’t know it yet? Then you keep it in mind for later, you won’t always have the answers to everything on the get go, sometimes, you need a bit of time to figure things out and write characters the way you feel satisfy you, until then, you can work on other things about the characters

*Cough* anyway, this is honestly everything I can think of off the top of my head? Hopefully I didn’t miss anything ydfhgchchchc

Do let me know if you’d like any more help or need clarification on anything, I’d be happy to help where I can <33333

Now have a sketch of your 2 Killers cause I love them dearly, they have a special place in my heart (genuinely adore how you write Killer already btw)

[vqmprxz]

ticci toby moodboard + hcs

toby’s playlist

(face claim: alexander arnold)

basics (in my au)

🪓 age: 19

🪓 nationality: german + italian

🪓 height: 5’6

interests, habits, etc

🪓 such an awkward and shy person it’s unreal

🪓 unintentionally funny. if he’s comfortable around you he just says what comes to mind and it just makes people giggle

🪓 chews an INSANE amount of gum to stop himself from literally eating his hands

🪓 was terrified of drugs before but tim and brian got him into smoking unfortunately

🪓 weirdly really good at singing. you couldn’t waterboard the words “i like to sing” out of him, but sometimes if you listen closely outside his room, he’s singing along softly to the nirvana song playing on his speakers

🪓 if he’s in modern day, hes the type of person to always have an airpod in one of his ears and tune everyone else out

“toby are you listening?”

“h-huh.”

🪓 always FREEZING. he can’t feel it of course but if anyone were to touch him they always gasp at how cold he is

🪓 crazy sleeper build. he looks skinny and frail but he can LIFT.

🪓 on the spectrum (autism, adhd, bipolar)

🪓 sometimes when he’s stuttering badly he just gives up and walks away and leaves people confused. (i do this.)

“c-can- can- can y- c-can you- f-fuck, nevermind”

“???”

relationships with others

🪓 i feel like he’s only really close with tim, brian, and kate. he’ll make small talk with the others but that’s about it.

🪓 liu has made it clear that toby can come to him whenever he needs and look at him as an older brother figure if he wants (BUT toby’s a little reluctant)

🪓 poor kid is always the target of jeff’s jokes. (jeff gave him the nickname “stutters” and “twitch” and toby threatened to behead him)

🪓 toby is the operator’s favorite proxy, he’s the least rebellious out of the four and uses that to piss them off

🪓 he really just keeps interaction to a minimum, i don’t know what else to say

a relationship with him

(sfw)

🪓 it takes a lot of time and trust to build up a relationship with toby, so if you’ve came that far then good job

🪓 he’s never been in a relationship before, too awkward and shy to ever make a move on anyone he was interested in

🪓 you’ll notice fast that he’s very clingy and needs constant reassurance, but you’re willing to give that to him

🪓 sometimes though, he’s snappy and cold and wants nothing to do with you (he’ll always cuddle up to you and apologize after one of those days though)

🪓 your dates usually consist of walking through the woods together, holding hands and just having deep conversations

🪓 he loves everything about you, even if he doesn’t know how to communicate it. silently admiring your features, mannerisms, and personality is one of his favorite things to do.

(nsfw)

🪓 VIRGIN before you. absolutely no experience. it took a lot of reassurance and “am i doing this right?”s, but he eventually learned exactly how to please you

🪓 puts on a front that he’s all tough and dominant until you guys actually do it. he’s whining and apologizing in between each thrust, he just can’t stop himself

🪓 doesn’t matter if you’re a girl or guy, he’ll BEG for you to be on top

🪓 tits guy 100%. no matter what size. needs them in his palms or in his mouth any chance he can get.

🪓 NEEDS praise. just wants to know that he’s making you feel good. (don’t degrade him he’s sensitive.)

🪓 loud. put your hand over this mfs mouth or people will be knocking on the door.

🪓 weirdly talented at oral (whether you’re a girl or guy). doesn’t have a gag reflex & can move his tongue fast.

[wisteriagoesvroom]

a couple of people have asked for a carlos POV of in theory and actually. thinking about it. it's pretty funny. imagine being carlos, carlos who gets everything in his life he's ever wanted carlos, carlos who feels he has nothing further to prove to anyone carlos (this is a lie btw), carlos who gets saddled with OSCAR, who barely tolerates him, as an executive assistant.

oscar who shows few emotions. doesn't give a f about seniority. thinks carlos is incredibly arrogant (he's not wrong here but, like recognises like.) oscar who knows carlos can't even do his own expenses without having an emotional support espresso or spending half an hour whining to oscar even though he did it himself years before oscar even joined, etc etc.

and carlos has to. endure it. while oscar blatantly ignores his charm offensive and his attempts at being jovial and his bad bilingual puns and carlos, because everyone usually loves carlos, and he-- he just. he cannot for the life of him figure out why he's also so compelled by this australian dude. doesn't know what to do with himself. just keeps interactions to a transactional minimum and puts up a front like he is soooo curt and uncaring about everything but. the warmth seeps through anyway, a vine that's destined to grow despite his attempts not to let it.

so what, if carlos lies awake in bed with racing thoughts too late at night thinking of revenues and EBITDA and platinum tiers and air miles. so what, if this sometimes bleeds into thoughts regarding his work-life balance or lack thereof, and therefore, oscar's stupid little hair swoop, his frown. his insane excel sheet formulas that even carlos, MBA graduate, takes a second to understand. oscar and his indifference and his scary efficiency and the way he talks a bit too fast when he's tipsy and his ice cold hands.

(at the christmas party with yuki. carlos pretends not to listen but hears every word. why would oscar tell yuki all that, and not him, when he’s tried to ask about oscar's interests before? anyway.)

and then. the christmas gifts happen and carlos thinks he's crossed a line. was the terrarium too far, he wonders. normally people love it when carlos is thoughtful like that. his exes even said so. but no! oscar takes the terrarium, the one carlos made a specific detour for on an airline that he couldn't even get miles on!

and oscar just. stares, and stares at the terrarium. then he gives carlos this...look. and it gets embarrassingly intimate and carlos "really does have to go take his call" even though the client did say it is fine to switch to email because, christmas. yeah. and then he's thinking about it the whole way back to madrid too.

then oscar QUITS on CHRISTMAS DAY (rude) for no explainable reason and carlos is like oh my god is it really ME. how can anybody not like ME ? reddit, AITA???

so carlos mulls on it. carlos wants to atone. just maybe. set things straight. let oscar know that. actually. all feelings aside, he was really an excellent EA and carlos wishes him the best with everything. he maybe sends a text to thank him with those very words. but christmas eve comes and goes, and so does christmas day, and there's no reply at all from oscar. what the hell, carlos thinks. no i can't have him leave and there's so much in my email that i – i didn't even say. he just. needs to let oscar know that he appreciated it.

(he doesn't know what "it" is per se. just that. he feels strongly. so he needs to do something about that.)

soooooo then carlos, who values for family more than anything in the world, spends christmas day just only half paying attention to things going on and thinking jesus, what did i do. and his sisters are like, hermano, please just. get it together and sort this out if you care so much. we'll be fine with mamá and papá and piñón okay there's roast ham for days. and his ma is like: "if you are visiting someone at least pack some dessert. where are your manners". and carlos is like "what". and his mum is like: "did i not teach you anything at all. are you or are you not a sainz". so carlos just takes his tiramisu and his sister's teasing and. he goes. might even try to pull a favour from a client to use a private jet and get there in time.

he flies back to the city in a fit of possible stupidity to try and clarify... his feelings for oscar his professional record and integrity.

and then. oscar is. actually HAPPY he is there.

(carlos knows he's happy, not because oscar's face changes. but because oscar puts his actual plant shears down in order to talk to him. which in oscar-world is a very big deal really. before, oscar always used to look like he wanted to stab carlos with a pen when carlos spoke to him. and if carlos were truly honest with himself, and hindsight being 50/50, well– he'd say that actually, the times oscar looked like he wanted to stab him were actually some of the moments he felt most alive.)

and the rest is... well.

you know how it ends.

[tanadrin]

I am sorry for the anon but I feel too vulnerable to come off due to the nature of my question.

I am slowly losing friends due to my refusal to engage in negative/nihilistic/doomer views of the future. My friends are 1000% convinced Trump and Republicans are going to crash the economy on purpose, leading to a depression, and carry out a Gilead situation. I told one of my friends the other day how, despite everything and the political situation, I am trying to be as positive as possible - or at least neutral. Her response to me was, "Why? I don't understand your optimism. You know they're going to enslave us all like in The Handmaid's Tale, right?" and it has become so dreadful now to interact with them. Anytime I disagree, they try to intellectually dominate me or put me under them in a way where I have no choice but to just leave the conversation.

I know this was a lot. But is there any advice you might have for someone like me? Because I sometimes feel like I am being painted as crazy. I know things will be hard but they genuinely want me to believe I have no future and I can't stand that.

Also, would it be too much to ask if you maybe mind sharing some of the other people/blogs you follow?

I once heard advice on dealing with Qanon family members who had fallen down the rabbit hole and only ever wanted to talk about conspiracy theories or the outrage bait they'd seen on Fox News or OANN or whatever, about not challenging them on their views but basically saying "I don't want to talk about this; let's talk about our plans for the weekend, or what movie we wanna go see later, or what interesting books you've read lately." The idea being, arguing with someone can only further entrench their beliefs, and if you really want to shake someone out of their dismal universe of conspiracism, it helps to remind them of all the things that aren't the fear-and-anger-activating content they're stuffing their brains with for hours every day.

Maybe something like this could help? I have a hard time imagining that someone really believes The Handmaid's Tale really is just around the corner--if you really believed that, surely you would be trying to flee to Canada or doing some political volunteer work or something--and sometimes doomer stuff can be kind of reflexive or phatic, like making a crack about how your retirement plan is to die in the water wars or something. But even if it isn't, I don't think there's any point in trying to argue about this stuff in the moment. Instead try to build on the things you still find fulfilling in that friendship, the conversations and interests and activities with those friends that caused you to become friends in the first place.

If you can't do that--if hanging out with them is always a constant grind of full-throttle doomerism, and they express no interest in actually trying to do something with their feelings of anger and frustration--you are perfectly within your rights to spend less time around them. You could, if you wanted to and you felt that you owed them at least that, give them a heads up as to why. If a close friend of mine or a family member was doing this, I would certainly talk to them about it. But your obligation to subject yourself to someone else's self-destructive idee fixe is not bottomless. Even with a partner you are within your rights to eventually say "I'm not going to talk about this with you anymore."

(And that's not only true of politics or conspiracy theories, by the way! If you have a close friend or family member or partner who--for example--has severe depression but refuses to seek treatment for it, you are not obligated to be the sponge for their misery forever every time they need someone to talk to. If someone in your life is in a relationship or a job that is making them miserable, and won't do anything to leave that relationship or find a new job, and just wants a friend to complain to, you are within your rights to eventually shut that down. Lots of people fall into a holding pattern in their life where they are unhappy but unable to do anything about it, and they will make this their friends' or loved ones' problem. That doesn't make them bad people: lord knows I have found myself doing this before. It's a very human thing to do. But sometimes the Good Friend Thing is to say "I love you, and will support you if you want to actually *do something* about your situation, but otherwise, oh my god shut the fuck up." But, you know, nicely.)

But if your friends want to make themselves miserable because hanging on to an endless stream of toxicity and doomerism from social media (and I will bet this is primarily coming from social media) is more important to them than your friendship, and they can't handle you not agreeing with them, you may lose them as friends. If you do, I'm sorry. That sucks. It's hard to lose friends, and it's even harder later in life when making new friends is more difficult, and I don't want to pretend like that's not a big deal.

[rheitais]

DP x DC One shooting star later. Pt 1.5

This is more snips and bits about the batfam interactions with the Nightingales/Fentons.

[Part 1 | Part 2]

Original post here^

_____________________________

In a local cafe (way before the joker incident):

Ellie: I am just saying the villains here? In all honesty are like a joke.

Jazz, studying to be a therapist: Mhmmhm, hey do you think I would be able to catch Dr. Quinzel next time shes out of Arkham?

Dan: Probably, stop stealing my food, what are you, Catwoman???

Danny: Oh please I don't have the body for that. She's very fancy, don't compare me to a queen.

Ellie: I thought you would be more insulted because you were excused for thievery.

Danny: Do I look like Dan to you?

Dan: Hypocrite says what?

Danny: Mass murderer says what?

Tim in the next booth: ????? *Aggressively texting the batfam group chat*

__________________________________

Dan: why do we need to be together again?

Danny: So you can't kill anyone again and I don't start killing people.

Dan: right, right.....

Danny:

Dan:

Dan: So.... What do we do with this?

Danny: Look clowns are really freaky. I know jazz told us to stay out of trouble since we are kinda on the bats radar but he kinda sneaked up on *us*. Again mind you. This was fully deserved. Right?

Dan, standing over the joker's dead body: Yeah, but we did just kill him in someone else's haunt.... We aren't even supposed to be over here.

Danny: Call mom?

Dan: Call mom.

Red hood overhead staring at the 2 halfas and a dead joker: Fck if they didn't already have parents I would pull a bruce with these 2.

__________________________________

Maddie: And that is how you make an energy gun that uses solar panels. No bullets and litter required and 100% effective.

Poison Ivy, who kidnapped Maddie and Ellie: Would you like to work for me?

_____________________________

Jack at a gala since his family was invited: IT IS GREAT TO MEET YOU MISTER REPORTER MAN! *Aggressively shaking the reporter's hand and honestly just man handling him the whole time*

Bruce: Ah, Mr.Nightingale I think ya wife is looking for ya?

Jack: Maddie? OK BYE REPORTER MAN AGAIN.

Clark: How the hay is he so strong?? *Still dizzy from the handshake*

Bruce: Hm. *Also had that whiplash when he first met the man*

__________________________________

Ellie: The teacher is so dumb, " Benny didn't invent anything, if anything he sucked at it. A guy named Lewie actually made it way better"

Damian: You mean Lewis Latimer?

Ellie: Yeah! He is actually a really cool dude. It's so dumb the teacher didn't mention him :(

Damian: While I would have to agree that the lack of proper credit is missing in the textbooks, I am intrigued by your opinions on this matter.

Ellie: Please I'm not fancy or anything i just travel and spoke to a lot of people for a while. Plus stuff about history is more my brother's thing, I am a chaotic art girlie myself.

Damian: Interesting.

__________________________________

Just an idea

[starlemons]

Coffee and Crime ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ PART TWO

Pairing ✦ mafia!bucky x reader

Word Count ✦ 2.2K

Warnings ✦ overall story has a 18+ content warning, MDNI, unwanted groping, attempted SA, mentions of being roofied, mention of blood, physical violence, alcohol, clubbing, someone flashing a crowd, cussing

A/N ✦ I wrote part two a lot quicker than I thought I would, I'm actually really enjoying this story so far! Stay tuned for part three :)

PART ONE »»» Series Masterlist

I will update the series every 1-4 days depending on my schedule

“Would you get your head out of la-la-land and focus.”, Nat said, snapping her fingers in front of your face.

It had been three days since your interaction with Bucky, and you kept finding yourself daydreaming about him, wishing the handsome man would come back into the coffee shop soon.

“Sorry Nat.”, you said sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck.

Your friend stood in front of you in her bedroom, a tight purple dress clung to her figure.

“What do you think of this one?”

“You could wear a trash bag and still look amazing. But I think that I like the green one more.”, you said pointing to the silky cocktail dress she had tossed onto the bed next to where you sat. 

“Well then I guess green it is.”

The two of you were at your and Nat's shared apartment, readying yourselves to go out for your mutual friend Thor’s birthday party. Nat considered herself a clubbing queen, she loved to be the life of the party. You on the other hand would prefer to be at home. 

“Now little-miss-wallflower.”, Nat said pointing to you, “We need to put together something for you to wear.”

She had you try on outfit after outfit, repeatedly saying none of them had that oomph she was going for. 

“Nat can I just wear this?”, you pleaded with her, gesturing to the long black bodycon dress she had put you in.

“No, that's not fitting the image I have in my head.”, she said, ruffling through the closet. 

“And what exactly is that image?”

“I want a sexy, bold, outgoing vibe.”

“You know that being bold and outgoing aren’t exactly my thing, right?”

“Exactly, you need to get out of your comfort zone Y/N, live a little.”

After several more outfit changes Nat finally found the perfect ensemble. A red-wine colored dress adorned your body. Its neckline dipped dangerously low, reaching below your sternum and the bottom of the garment barely hit mid-thigh. 

“Isn’t this a bit much?”, you asked, looking yourself up and down in the mirror. 

“Not in my opinion.” she shrugged, “But anyways you look amazing so I say this is it.”

Staring at yourself again, you did have to admit the dress did make you feel hot. 

“Okay fine, you win, I’ll wear this.”

Nat smiled from ear to ear, “Amazing! Now let’s finish getting ready.”

You added a pair of black heels to your outfit, straightened your hair, and Nat had helped you do a smokey eye for your makeup. After an hour of getting ready, the two of you were walking out the front door and heading downstairs to wait for your Uber. 

After the quick car ride, you and Nat found yourselves outside a club, a bright blue neon sign reading Supernova sat above the front door. Both of you joined the line to get in. Once you reached the front, the bouncer checked your ID’s and stamped your hands with a shooting star that lit up under the flashing lights. 

You scanned the club, glancing over the horde of people, before your eyes finally found who you were looking for. Grabbing Nat’s hand you pulled her behind you in the direction of your friends.

“Y/N! Nat!”, Thor cheered seeing the two of you approaching. 

“Hi Thor! Happy Birthday!”, you yelled over the booming music, giving him a hug.

You then greeted your other friends; Wanda, and Clint. The group sat at a table near one of the many small stages scattered about the club. Each of the platforms had girls dancing on them. Your eyes quickly looked away as one of them took off her top, cheers erupting from the group of men standing below her. You felt beyond out of your element. 

“You look like you’re about to jump out of your skin Y/N.”, Clint chuckled at you.

You shrugged at him, “I think I just need to get a drink in me. I’ll be right back.”

Walking away from your friends you snaked your way through the throng of people dancing, reaching the bar. 

The bartender, a girl with bright pink hair and several facial piercings, turned from the man she was talking to, yelling from the other end of the bar top, “Be with you in just a second!”

You nodded at her, looking up at the chalkboard menu sitting above many shelves of alcohol. Your eyes scanned over the neon pink chalk settling on the special for the night. 

Tonight's Special: Midnight Whisper

⛦ vodka, blue curacao, grenadine, sprite, edible glitter

⛦ $11

You leaned up against the bar, studying your surroundings while you waited. Couples were dancing a little too close for comfort, there was a group of girls circling around one of their friends as she threw up in a trashcan by the dancefloor, a group of frat boys sang along to the music blasting through the club. 

As your eyes glanced at the V.I.P. area, they widened in shock. Bucky sat in the corner, surrounded by Steve and a few more men. You locked eyes with him and he raised his glass towards you, shooting you a smile. 

“What can I get for you?”

You jumped in surprise, turning to see the bartender. 

“Can I get a Midnight Whisper?”

“Of course, that’ll be $11.”

Reaching inside your purse your fingers wrapped around your wallet, pulling it out to pay. 

“I’ve got it.”, a voice said from behind you.

You looked over your shoulder seeing a man you didn’t know behind you. 

“It’s okay really.”, you said.

“No, I’ve got it sexy, a lady with a body like yours shouldn’t have to pay.”, he smirked down at you.

He handed the bartender some cash.

“Um thank you.”, you said flatly.

“No problem, smoke show, I’m Caleb, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.”, you grumbled, not meaning it at all, but trying to be polite because he just bought you a drink. 

“Here you go girly.”, the pink haired girl slid you your cocktail.

Caleb slid his arm around your shoulders, hand lingering over your drink. You were looking at his face as he did this, trying to figure out how to get out of this situation.

Reaching for your drink, you turned away from him, “Thanks for the drink, I’ve got to get back to my friends now, they’re probably wondering where I went.”

Caleb’s hand shot out, gripping your bicep, “What do you mean you’ve got to go back to your friends? I just bought that for you, can’t you stay and at least talk to me for a bit?”

“First of all,let go of me.”, you hissed yanking your arm out of his grip, “And secondly I tried to pay for my own drink, but you insisted, I said thank you for it, but that doesn’t mean I owe you shit.”

You turned and weaved back through the crowd towards your friends. 

As you approached Nat raised an eyebrow at you.

“What’s got you in such a sour mood.”, she said, studying your visibly pissed expression. 

“Some dude bought my drink for me and acted like I owed him a conversation because of it.”, you rolled your eyes.

“I would be irritated too.”, Wanda said from beside you.

You laughed, “Anyway enough about that weirdo, guess who I just saw Nat?”

“Who?”

Grinning, you said, “That Bucky guy from work the other day!”

“Oh my God!”

“Who’s Bucky?”, Wanda asked.

You filled your friend in on the handsome man. 

“Why don’t you go ask for his number?”, Clint said, eavesdropping on your conversation.

“Because he’s in the V.I.P area, and I don’t have the balls to do it.”, you laughed out, taking a sip of your drink. 

Just then Thor appeared, having come from the dancefloor.

“Come on guys let's go dance!”, he yelled.

He grabbed your hand pulling you with him, the rest of your group following behind.

As you guys danced and drank, you began to feel weird. Your head was pounding and you were hit with a wave of nausea. 

“I don’t feel good.”, you whispered to Nat, and you rushed to the bathrooms. 

“Hey wait-”, she called after you.

You disappeared into the crowd leaving Nat behind, as you stumbled through bodies, your vision began to get blurry leaving you a disoriented mess. There was no way that one drink had done this to you.

Finally you reached the hallway in the back of the club that led to the bathrooms. You shakily leaned up against the wall, dragging yourself along the cool cinder blocks towards the ladies room. Suddenly you found yourself pushed up against the wall, your back smacking it so hard you almost felt the wind rush out of your lungs.

“Hi beautiful.”, Caleb jeered at you. 

“What-”, you slurred out, tongue feeling heavy.

He cut you off, covering your mouth with his hand, moving your lolling head back. His other hand settled on the back of your thigh, slowly creeping its way up, his fingers digging into your ass cheek. Your body was like Jell-O, you couldn’t move, leaving you defenseless. You felt tears begin to well in your eyes as you looked up at him. 

Next thing you knew Caleb was lying flat on his back a few feet away and you crumpled sliding down the wall to the ground, your legs unable to support yourself.

“What the hell man!”, Caleb screamed, a cut to the side of his head had blood cascading down his face.

“Just what the fuck do you think you’re doing.”, someone said.

You looked up at your savior, realizing it was the same man who had generously tipped you the other day. 

“Oh what so a guy can’t feel up his girlfriend anymore?”, Caleb lied.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky said looking down at you, “Is this guy your boyfriend?”

“No.”, you gurgled out.

“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about! The bitch is just drunk!”, Caleb yelled as he stood up. 

Bucky however knew that wasn’t the case. You were obviously out of it, but not from alcohol, you gave away the tell tale signs of being roofied. 

After he saw you at the bar, he had been watching you. He saw your interaction with Caleb, almost getting up after the man had grabbed you, but relaxed when he saw you could handle it on your own. However when he saw you stumbling off towards the bathrooms and Caleb stalking after you, he stood up and followed the two of you, ignoring Steve asking him where he was going. 

He had entered the hallway just as the slime ball had groped you, and without thinking, Bucky decked him in the head. In all honesty Bucky hadn’t felt this angry in a while. It pissed him off to no end, seeing Caleb taking advantage of you, the shy and sweet barista he had just met the other day. 

“Y/N, oh my God what the hell happened?”, Nat appeared at the end of the hallway. 

“This jackass drugged her.”, Bucky growled, nodding in Caleb's direction.

Nat moved towards the aforementioned jackass, but was stopped by Bucky putting his arm out.

“Let me deal with him. Get her up to the V.I.P area, let Steve know what happened.”

Nodding Nat moved down to the ground, throwing your arm around her shoulder and dragging you upwards. You stumbled as the two of you walked back down the hallway, out into the club. Looking back over your shoulder you saw Bucky nearing Caleb, rolling the sleeves of his dress shirt up. 

Hazily you remember Nat heaving you to the V.I.P section. Steve immediately recognized the pair of you from the other day, and he jumped up helping Nat carry you to one of the couches. While they did so Nat explained the situation to him. 

“Tony go get her some water.”, Steve told one of the other men that had been sitting with him. 

The dark haired man turned and headed towards the bar with urgency. 

“Y/N, Nat are you guys okay?”, you heard Clint shouting from the velvet rope sectioning off the V.I.P area from the rest of the club.

“Are those your friends?”, Steve asked looking at the group that had gathered. 

“Yeah they are.”, Nat said. 

“Hey guys let them up here.”

One of the security guards by the rope lifted it up and allowed your friends through. 

“You know that guy from earlier she said was weird? Somehow he drugged her.”, Nat said to your friends.

“Where’s he at? What's he look like? I'm going to go kick his ass.”, Thor stated, turning to head back down to the dancefloor and hunt down Caleb. 

“Someone else already beat you to it.”, Nat said pointing to Bucky who had returned from the hallway.

“Sam, Scott, can the two of you go get the mess in the hallway cleaned up?”, Bucky asked as he neared everyone. 

“Gotcha.”, Sam nodded.

“What’d you do kill him?”, Nat asked gob smacked.

“No, just taught him a lesson about keeping his hands to himself.”, he said as he picked up a cocktail napkin from one of the tables, wiping blood off his knuckles. 

Your vision started blurring again and the ringing in your ears drowned out any other sounds. The last thing you remember was Bucky looking at you worriedly before you finally passed out. 

PART THREE

I AM OPENING A TAGLIST FOR THIS STORY LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT ADDED!

[softness-and-shattering]

I was writing tags but I think it deserves main post.

Something I know multiple people to do is get a pet so that you have a life relying on you. You cant do it today because who will feed the cat tomorrow?

And as a bonus, looking after an animal really helps you have compassion and look after yourself. Ive experienced this personally*.

Animals, especially cuddly ones are also super therapeutic. Just holding or touching a warm living creature is really powerful, especially but not exclusively if youre lonely or touch starved. Its comforting. You feel less alone. Theyre affectionate towards you, and that makes you think there must be something about you worth loving because theres a cat climbing on you and purring. It doesnt know about human troubles and self esteem and reputation and work. It knows you are person. You feed it. It sees you every day. It loves you. Youre lovable. Youre worthy of love. This weird creature says so.

This isnt necessarily the right advice for everyone so do think about it; eg dont get a dog if you cant consistently leave the house to walk them. Cats do better indoors, and they need more than just food water and litter change. Brushing, love, play, vet visits etc. I dont know anout keeping fish but that might be easier. You could also try a plant. Its surprising how effecting it is to have a living being with you, even if its just a tiny succulent in a pot that doesnt ever move. Its still alive and thats powerful. If youre keeping it alive thats also an incredible feeling. One time when I was living alone and isolating myself, a friend left me a little succulent at the door when I said I wasnt up for actually interacting. And it made a really significant difference which was so surprising to me, its so small! But its *alive*.

*I once had a psych ask if Id ever had a pet, I said no, he said ok so try imagine. The same way you love a pet unconditionally no matter what it does, try feel that way about yourself. I did not viscerally understand what he meant till I got a cat, who could be a mischievous stinky slippery little shit, and I loved him with all my heart no matter how upset I also was at him. This wasnt something I had experienced before.

Another time Id moved somewhere new and I was talking to my cat about how it must be scary for him, in a new place with new sights and sounds and smells. And then I realised, hey, *Im* in a new place with new sights and sounds AND smells, and its ok if I feel a bit wobbly about it. We can be a bit wobbly and comfort each other together.

Seriously, having a Little Guy follow you around and love you is the best. Pet ownership is one of my best life decisions.

So there is a lot of bad stuff going on right now, and I'm sure there are lots of people feeling hopeless and thinking of suicide. Well, I've been suicidal for 21 years and I have a few practical pieces of advice for surviving that I rarely see in other places but I think have done more to keep me off the ledge than almost anything.

1. Don't feel guilty for wanting to kill yourself. Life can be extremely painful, and you are not weak, a coward, or irrational for considering the obvious way to alleviate that pain. Guilt on top of the rest of your pain will not help, and you are not a bad person. You are going to have to tell yourself this a lot.

2. If you think you might do it, find an excuse to live. This is different from a reason to live in that it is short term and shallow. For years my excuse was that I still had enough money to buy a pizza and I'd be damned if I didn't get my last pizza before I died, and if i still wanted to kill myself after the pizza then I had lost nothing. I swear this kept me alive through some of the hardest years of my life.

3. If you have an online friend you can trust, ask if they would be willing to do check in duty occasionally on your worst nights. It's very simple, on bad days where hurting yourself is a real possibility, ask your friend if they can send you a message at regular intervals, say 15 or 20 minutes, confirming that you are safe. It can be as simple as "check?", with you responding "I'm ok". Being immediately held accountable makes not doing it so much easier. I asked a friend to help me like this about two weeks ago to deal with a really bad self harm day and the difference between trying to do it on your own and simple check ins is astounding. It hurts so much less.

4. You die with nothing left on the table. This is for when it's over and you are going to kill yourself. You have a plan, you are ready, and you want to. At this point you are effectively dead. Which means there are no consequences. You can finally do the thing that you were always too scared to do. Maybe it's quitting your job, or confessing to your crush. For me it was coming out as trans. This is your last ditch effort, so if it blows up in your face and ruins everything it is no loss because your plan will still work tomorrow. You were already dead anyway, who cares if you left behind a bit more chaos.

[strangelittlestories]

For most people, the first time you touch a zombie is also the last time.

For *most* people.

Like, some of them survive? But if ever a person is going to discover their Aptitude, then your first close brush with the un-unalive is going to be when you do it.

And if you live through that, then every future encounter with a vengeful corpus will be a bit easier. Even if you haven't gotten a handle on your magic yet, your fight-or-flight instincts should kick in before the creature gets too close.

For example: a Meteorologist might find themselves protected by a small, localised thunderstorm. A Schrodinger might be suddenly armoured in thick darkness. Elementals will get a burst of wind if they're lucky, and a full fireball if they're not.

(Preppers are *probably* screwed still, as a sudden awareness of all the ritual components you'd need to exorcise the wrathful attendant spirits is not actually helpful in a crisis situation.)

Some of us, however, are Necks. Y'know. Corpse-whisperers. Spirit-speakers. Ghost-botherers. Necromancers if you're accurate. 'Pathologists' if you're fancy.

For us, the first time you touch a zombie is to feel - deep in your humors - a profound sense of kinship.

Imagine it. A bloodthirsty monstrosity has wrapped its decaying arms around you and your whole world has been reduced to a set of rotting teeth growing ever larger. And suddenly you are aware that your bond with this creature is unlike any before; that every friend you've ever loved *pales* in comparison to the spiritual connection you share with the *thing* that is *trying to eat you*.

I, personally, was trying to fend a zombie off with a pair of toenail clippers when I had my Awakening.

I'm still in touch with that particular revenant. They're a chill guy. Now.

And if you're one of the *early* wave of Necks like me ... you'll also have become aware of *why* people started crawling out of their graves. Of how they were dragged kicking and screaming from the Roads of the Spirit. How they were glued none-too-gently back into their bodies.

No wonder they were vengeful, right?

Try explaining that to your plucky band of aspirant apocalypse survivors (who, by the way, are already deeply suspicious of your sudden lucky escape and new zombie bestie).

I'm just saying, if *your* Aptitude is one that does not require you to frequently touch or interact with things that (as a rule) want to eat you? You got lucky, buddy.

Because hey? Hey! Guess what? Guess what is the first piece of advice that gets given to Aspirants who are sent out into the wastelands?

“Remember: when it comes to the unalive, don’t stick your neck out. Stick your *Neck* out.”

[taldigi]

how do you feel about yu’s parents?? What do you think they’re like?

I think they're really interesting to explore- believe it or not. I've seen a lot of different interpretations of his parents, ranging from straight up negligent, to being abusive-- or just simply too busy. I've even seen interpretations where they're perfectly fine parents, and that the year abroad is an unusual circumstance.

The game itself, which is what I would consider primary canon (sequels being secondary and manga and anime being tertiary) never touches on it more than it needs to to justify Yu's presence in Inaba/being new. I think Yu's mother is briefly mentioned once or twice and they are said to have called Dojima once.

I made the observation (previously when theorizing about Ren's parents) that it's completely possible that during the downtime that you don't get to see between transition stages (where, theoretically, the main protagonists would do homework or take a shower or tend to other daily needs) it's totally possible that they call or interact with their parents.

All interpretations are possible, but I know Souji Seta's (the protagonist from the Manga) parents are always moving around- and lot of folks have taken this to heart- and yeah, I can see it and I too like this idea- even though it's worth considering the fact that the manga is mostly secondary to the games (and even the anime!) and it's not definite canon.

That being said, I definitely like the idea that they are a sort of echo of the conflict between Nanako and Dojima. Both suggest career oriented people that probably shouldn't have had a kid in the first place who prioritize their work over their family.. and that, in turn, leading to neglect- with Yu and Nanako both being self sufficient. mature for their ages, and complacent.

Behaviors Yu exhibits- like his ability to cook meals beyond what is expected of a teenage boy, becoming incredibly attached to Nanako (he is one wrong dialog choice away from killing someone over her!) and Inaba, the insatiable need to people please, his initial desire to push people away or ignore others, and his otherworldly emotional control and ability to not express himself.. -is stuff like that echos of a kid who's had to grow up way too fast and not cause any trouble and keep to himself.

So personally, I subscribe to that concept: Yu's a kid who's been raised to be seen, not heard- developing complexes and anxieties over being praised for being responsible and mature even though he's only barely meeting that expectation by the skin of his teeth. Nothing less that being perfect for the Narukamis, after all- there's no time to make friends or have many interests when time is better spent on studying.

So... the Narukamis are parents who fufill those concepts. Parents who withhold attention and praise because those are things reserved for truly impressive successes.. and when exemplary is the expected baseline, such rewards are never actually acted upon.

Yu does have a taste in cooking, though- and a selection of music he likes. He doodles in his notes and reads magazines- I feel it expresses that while his parents don't police his interests, it also means that they really care much about their son's interests... as long as they don't interfere with work (and, by extension- Yu's grades or behavior, as he can be considered an asset in said jobs)

Jobs that leave them busy more often than not, leaving Yu alone.. but he's mature for his age, so it's okay. He prolly does a fried egg and toast and then goes and sits in front of the TV to do his homework. Yu seeing this in Nanako... is a lot, and makes their relationship that much more sweet and aajhksdkjasf

His parent's cruelty is best decided on a story by story basis. The level of willfulness in their work (genuinely needed often vs choosing work over family for example) or the level of regret they express upon leaving-- informing many interesting stories.

so yeah thats my thoughts on that.

side tangent, thats why souyo's so nice tbh. Yu always has to be the inconquerable senpai, the perfect big brother, noble leader, and everyone's rock- only to have Yosuke waltz up , hang off of him like a drunk girlfriend, and go "yeah he's amazing, but he's also the world's weirdest man and he's my best friend about it."

[bullet-prooflove]

5500 Follower Celebration: Tears of Pearl - Eliot Spencer x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @madisonbroxson1 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog  @readings-to-share  @sameenbyhat

Companion piece to:

Star - Eliot realises he's made a terrible mistake.

The Worst Thing - There's only two people that know the worst thing Eliot has ever done.

You’re wearing pearls,  Tahitian black pearls to be exact.

 It’s the first thing Eliot notices because it’s an unusual choice for a woman of your calibre. You society girls usually prefer diamonds, the bigger the better. That’s the first indication you’re not like the others, it’s not the last.

He spends a year getting to know you as your personal protection specialist. You hate the fact you have a bodyguard but he was hired by your fiancé Moreau after threats have been made by some of the people he’s pissed off.

“I can’t have anything happening to my investment.” He tells Eliot as he sits across from him at a desk that costs more than most homes these days. “This marriage opens up a lot of doors for me, gives me connections I wouldn’t have access to.”

“What does her father get out of it?” He’d asked as he flicked through your dossier.

“A cash injection into some of his more problematic businesses.” He’d said as he lounged back in his chair. “He can’t stand the shame of failing.”

You are everything that Eliot does not expect from someone whose a daughter in one of the founding families. He sees the work you do with those charities, the way you immerse yourself in it as if you’re trying to make up for the sins of those that came before you. You’re not content with cutting a cheque, you need to be involved and not in the public shit either, the stuff that would get you recognition, but the grassroots stuff. Teaching kids to read, sitting with the elderly who have no families and then there’s the homeless, the people who don’t have a voice.

The first time you sit down next to a veteran in the street Eliot almost hurls you right back up because you, you don’t seem to understand the risk that comes with being with Moreau. The fact the people who are trying to hurt him will use you to do it.

“Let me take five minutes to share a coffee and a sandwich with my new friend Joe.” You negotiate and he reluctantly agrees.

It’s not five minutes, it’s thirty because Joe, he’s non-threatening and watching you interact with him it’s fascinating. You don’t act like other people, you don’t talk over him, try to give him advice, you just listen and to a guy like Joe whose spent years being in the background, ignored, it’s overwhelming, which is why you take his hand when he gets a little upset, clasping it tightly in your own. He understands in that moment that you’re lonely, that you probably have been for a long time.

When you do come away Eliot’s silent because he isn’t sure how to articulate this new knowledge. It’s only when you get to the car that he notices your pearl necklace is gone, that you must have placed it into Joe’s cup.

“You gonna keep giving away all your jewellery like that?” He asks you, his gaze flickering up to meet yours as he watches you in the rearview mirror.

“They’re just things.” You say distractedly, looking out of the window. “Things that could help other people who actually need it.”

That’s when Eliot realises how trapped you are in this world, it’s a gilded cage you were born into, not one that you want. When he looks back he knows that that’s the moment that things changed between the two of you, he saw you for you, not the role that Moreau had crafted for you.

Six months down the line, you’re wearing a different set of pearls, a more expensive set and Eliot’s tearing them from your throat, breaking the strands because you’re in the midst of a panic attack and the damn things are practically padlocked around your neck with a gold clasp that can only be undone with a key. The pearls scatter across the floor, rolling in all directions and that lock, he throws it out the window in disgust.

It’s another Moreau special. A collar to remind you who you belong to because he saw you talking to another man at a charity event, one that had paid you a little too much attention. He doesn’t know that Eliot spends most nights in your bed, that he makes love to you in the shower before he puts on his suit and pretends he’s been in his own room all along.

“I don’t want to marry him.” You sob as Eliot uses his thumb to chase away the tears that leak down your cheeks. He despises the kind of man that can do this to you, that steals away your autonomy, that tries to stamp out all the goodness in your soul.

“You don’t have to.” He whispers, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he looks into your eyes. “I’ll find a way to get you out of this. I promise you I will.”

Love Eliot? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won't be added.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[hueningstar]

Beneath the Thorny Vines

Summary : You and Yeonjun go from bickering rivals to sharing charged, intimate moments during a late-night study session, where unspoken tension turns into undeniable attraction.

────୨ৎ────

A/N : Let me know what you think or if you have any suggestions. Your support means the world ! <3 Alsoo,requests are open🙃 And about my 2 reqs that I got..school is starting and I really need to do my hw and study but I promise that in a few days you WILL get them☺️

────୨ৎ────

Pairing : Yeonjun × reader

Genre : Enemies-to-Lovers, Slow Burn, College AU

Warnings : nipple play, unprotected sex (wrap it b4 u tap it)

MDNI

────୨ৎ────

The first time you met Choi Yeonjun, he was leaning casually against the doorframe of your lecture hall, a smug smirk plastered on his face like he owned the place. And maybe he did, judging by the way everyone’s eyes flitted to him as though he were a magnet pulling their attention.

You hated him instantly.

���Hey,” he called out, his voice dripping with confidence. “Looks like you’re in my spot.”

Your brows furrowed as you looked up from your notebook. The lecture hall wasn’t even half full, yet he had the audacity to claim ownership of the seat you’d chosen near the window.

“I don’t see your name on it.” you shot back, folding your arms.

Instead of being deterred, he chuckled—a sound that irritated you more than it should have. “Well, I usually sit here. But if you want to fight about it, we can flip a coin.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your things and moved a few seats down, muttering under your breath about entitlement. You thought that would be the end of it, just another annoying encounter in a sea of college chaos.

You were wrong.

From that day forward, Yeonjun seemed to make it his mission to get under your skin. Whether it was cutting you off in class discussions, conveniently signing up for the same group projects, or flashing that infuriating grin every time he passed you in the halls, he was always there.

“Do you ever take anything seriously?” you snapped one afternoon after he’d turned in another half-hearted attempt at a group project. You’d spent hours perfecting your section, only for him to barely skim the surface of his.

He shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Relax, it’s not like it’s the final grade. Besides, I figured you’d overachieve enough for the both of us.”

Your jaw clenched. “Unbelievable.”

“You say that a lot,” he teased, his voice light. “I’m starting to think you actually enjoy arguing with me.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response.

As the semester dragged on, your interactions with Yeonjun became a strange routine. He’d rile you up, you’d bite back, and somewhere in between the tension, there were moments where his charm almost—almost—made you forget how infuriating he was.

Like the time he caught you struggling to carry a stack of library books and, without a word, took half of them from your arms.

“Don’t get used to this,” he said, smirking as he walked beside you.

“I wasn’t planning to,” you replied, though your tone lacked its usual bite.

Or the time he stayed behind after class to help you clean up spilled coffee, his fingers brushing against yours as he handed you a paper towel. For a split second, you saw something softer in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

The turning point came during a campus fundraiser. You’d been assigned to work the same booth as Yeonjun—selling homemade baked goods to raise money for the art department.

“Try not to scare off the customers.” you said, eyeing him as he lounged lazily behind the table.

“And miss out on the chance to charm everyone who walks by?” He grinned, picking up a cookie and taking a bite.

“You’re supposed to sell those, not eat them.” you scolded, swatting at his hand.

“What, you think people won’t buy them if one’s missing? Watch and learn.”

To your surprise (and mild annoyance), Yeonjun’s charm worked wonders. Within an hour, he’d managed to sell more cookies than you thought possible, effortlessly chatting up every passerby.

“See? I’m not completely useless,” he said, leaning closer with a playful glint in his eyes.

You hated the way your heart skipped a beat.

As the weeks turned into months, the sharp edges of your rivalry began to blur. You still bickered—some things never changed—but there was a new undercurrent to your interactions, a warmth that neither of you acknowledged but both felt.

One evening, as you sat alone, frantically typing away at an essay due the next day, Yeonjun appeared out of nowhere and slid into the seat across from you.

“Need help?” he asked, his tone uncharacteristically genuine.

You blinked, caught off guard. “Why would you offer to help me?”

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips. “Maybe I don’t hate you as much as you think.”

For the first time, you allowed yourself to smile back.

And maybe—just maybe—you didn’t hate him as much as you thought, either.

Yeonjun leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest as he watched you with that ever-present smirk. For once, though, it didn’t feel condescending—it felt… softer.

“Fine,” you relented with a sigh, sliding your laptop toward him. “But if you mess this up, I’m holding you accountable.”

“Deal.” He rolled up the sleeves of his hoodie, revealing forearms that were unfairly distracting. Settling in, he scanned the notes on your screen, his brow furrowed in concentration.

You tried to focus on anything but him: the sound of the clock ticking, the faint hum of the air conditioner, the scratch of your pen on paper. But your eyes kept drifting back to Yeonjun, to the way his lips pressed together as he read, to the faint strand of hair falling into his face.

“Your formatting’s all wrong,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence.

“Excuse me?”

He grinned, tapping at your keyboard. “Relax, I fixed it. See?”

You leaned closer, your shoulder brushing against his as you followed his gesture. He smelled faintly of something clean and woodsy, and you were suddenly hyperaware of how close the two of you were.

“Uh, thanks.” you mumbled, your voice quieter than intended.

“Don’t mention it.” he replied, but his tone had shifted, too. When you glanced up, you found him looking at you—really looking.

The smirk was gone, replaced by something deeper, something that made the air between you feel heavier.

“Why do you do that?” you asked softly, your heart pounding.

“Do what?” His voice was just as quiet, his gaze locked on yours.

“Act like you don’t care about anything.”

He tilted his head, a small, humorless laugh escaping him. “And why do you act like you care about everything?”

The question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you didn’t know how to respond. But before you could think of something, Yeonjun leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

“Maybe we’re not so different, after all.”

The tension crackled like static electricity. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed yours, lingering for a moment too long. His eyes flicked down to your lips, then back up, as if he were testing the waters.

“Yeonjun…” you started, your voice wavering.

“Shh,” he murmured, a teasing edge returning to his tone. “I’m just helping you with your essay, remember?”

But the way his hand lingered on yours said otherwise.

As Yeonjun's fingers intertwined with yours, he slowly pulled you closer. His other hand reached up to cup your face gently, tilting it up to meet his gaze. He looked at your lips, then back into your eyes, asking a silent question.

His thumb caressed your bottom lip, sending shivers down your spine. "You're so..." he murmured, seemingly at a loss for words. His eyes searched yours, filled with a mix of confusion, desire, and something deeper. "...annoying. And frustrating. And..."

He paused, his forehead resting against yours now. "And so infuriatingly kissable." he finally whispered, his warm breath fanning across your face. His hand on your face tightened, pulling you into a gentle, tentative kiss. His lips were soft, questioning, almost unsure.

His kiss was gentle but demanding, contradictory in the best way. One hand remained on your face while the other moved to the small of your back, pulling you closer. When he deepened the kiss, his tongue tracing your bottom lip, you couldn't help but melt against him. "Mmm..."

A soft groan rumbled in his chest as you parted your lips, inviting him in. His kiss turned more urgent, more passionate. He explored your mouth like he was trying to memorize the taste and feel of you. His hand on your back slid down to grip your hip, pressing you flush against him.

The kiss went on for what felt like an eternity, stealing your breath and your thoughts. When Yeonjun finally broke the kiss, you were both left panting, your hearts racing in sync. He rested his forehead against yours once more, his eyes closed as if savoring the moment.

His eyelids fluttered open, revealing eyes dark with desire. A slow, almost lazy smirk spread across his face as he took in your flushed cheeks and kiss-swollen lips.

Without warning, he lifted you up and placed you on the desk, pushing the books and papers to the side with a careless swipe of his arm. He stepped between your legs, forcing them apart to make room for him.

He leaned in to claim your lips again, more forceful this time. One hand slid up your thigh while the other tangled in your hair, angling your head to deepen the kiss. You could feel his growing hardness pressing against your center as he moved closer.

His fingers deftly unbuttoned your shirt, exposing your lacy bra underneath. He paused, admiring the view, before hooking a finger under the strap and pulling it down, baring more skin.

"Fucking hell." he breathed against your neck, his lips and teeth tracing a path down to your collarbone. His hand snaked around to unhook your bra, freeing your breasts.

He took a moment to appreciate the sight before lowering his head, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. He sucked and swirled his tongue around it, eliciting a gasp from you. His free hand kneaded your other breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers.

His mouth moved back to yours in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans as his hands made quick work of your pants and underwear, pushing them down your legs. He stepped back just enough to remove his own shirt, revealing his toned chest.

He reached for his belt, unbuckling it and lowering his zipper. You watched, mesmerized, as he pulled out his hard, throbbing cock. He stroked it a few times, spreading pre-cum along the length before reaching for your legs and spreading them wider.

"I'm going to fuck you now," he growled, positioning himself at your entrance. He looked at you, his eyes filled with a heady mix of desire and affection. "And I'm not going to be gentle."

He thrust into you suddenly, filling you completely in one brutal stroke. You cried out, feeling like you might be split in two as he buried himself inside you. He wrapped your legs around his waist, angling you for even deeper penetration. "You're so tight."

He hissed through gritted teeth, his arms trembling as he held you up. He pounded into you, over and over, each thrust hitting deeper than the last. You were screaming, but he muffled the sound with his mouth, kissing you brutally as he took you.

Just when you thought he couldn't get any harder or faster, he reached between your bodies and rubbed at your clit, sending sparks flying through your entire being. You came with a scream, your inner walls clamping down on his cock as he continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

He followed soon after, pulsing deep inside you with a fierce 'fuck' against your neck. His entire body shook as he emptied himself, then suddenly pulled out, spinning you around and bending you over the desk. His hand came down hard on your ass, making you jump.

He didn't give you a moment to catch your breath before slamming back into you, his hips cracking against your cheeks with each brutal thrust. You were crying now, your face buried in the papers on the desk as he used you like a fucking animal. His balls slapped against your thighs with each stroke.

He snatched a handful of your hair, yanking your head back as he hissed in your ear, "This is what you needed, wasn't it?" His other hand found your clit again, pinching and rubbing mercilessly as he continued his relentless assault on your ass.

A shudder ran through your body as his dirty talk mixed with the brutal stimulation, pushing you swiftly towards another orgasm. Your fingers clenched the edges of the desk, knuckles white from gripping so tightly. "Yes!" you cried out, your voice raw and desperate, "Fuck me harder!"

He snarled in response, his hips moving like a piston as he fucked you with all his might. The desk creaked and shook beneath you, papers flying everywhere. His hand tightened in your hair, pulling so hard it stung, but only adding to the intense pleasure coursing through you.

Just as your orgasm hit, he released your hair, instead wrapping his arm around your waist to lift and turn you to face him. Kneeling, his mouth found yours in a fierce, dominating kiss. His tongue claimed your mouth as thoroughly as his cock had claimed your pussy.

He wrapped his arms around you tightly, pulling you flush against his chest as he thrust up into you with increasing urgency. The sound of their bodies slapping together filled the room, a primal rhythm that drove him closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck, I'm gonna cum in you."

With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself to the hilt inside you and held you in place as his cock pulsed and spasmed, filling your pussy with his hot, thick cum. You could feel it overflowing, coating your inner thighs as he emptied himself completely inside you.

He nuzzled into your neck, his breathing slowly returning to normal. "Damn, you always make me forget everything else," he murmured contentedly. His hands roamed over your sides possessively. "I need to get back to work, though. Can you..."

He gently shifted you off him, watching as cum dripped from your still-sensitive pussy. "Dirty girl," he whispered appreciatively, pulling his tie to clean you up slightly. "Be a good girl and clean my desk while I'm gone. And maybe then I'll consider bending you over it again later."

You nodded obediently, still trembling from the intensity of your climax. He winked at you before striding out, leaving you sprawled naked on the couch, his cum leaking from you and a trail of papers scattered across the hardwood. Slowly, you pushed yourself up, glancing at the messy desk.

You spent the next hour meticulously cleaning his desk, organizing the scattered papers and dusting the surface. As you worked, you couldn't help but replay the intense encounter in your head, your body still tingling from his touch. Just as you finished, you heard the door open behind you.

He stepped back into the room, his eyes scanning the neatly organized desk. He looked at you, standing there naked and covered in a thin sheen of sweat from the cleaning, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "Good girl." he murmured, locking the door behind him.

Moving swiftly towards you, he pinned you against the freshly cleaned desk, his strong hands gripping your hips. "I suppose only one thing is left to do now," he growled playfully, his eyes gleaming with mischief and lust.

────୨ৎ────