#beauty in the bikini murder

[gojosoups]

Luffy x reader | oneshot, smut, 18+

Captain's Orders

ღ summary: Perhaps the summer heat was finally getting to his head, making him feel delirious and restless, or perhaps it was the way the summer season looked so good on you, with sweat trickling down your neck and the strings of your bikini trying their best to keep you covered. But one thing was for sure, what bothered him most (despite his obliviousness), was the look Sanji kept throwing your way and his unwillingness to leave your side the whole day.

ღ pairing: jealous!luffy x reader

ღ warnings/tags: 18+, smut, established relationship, implied breeding kink, creampie, fingering, cum licking, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, feelings of jealousy, possessive behaviour, markings, female reader, female-bodied reader, slightly proofread, ooc?, luffy's big back is greedy

a/n: repost from my old blog because I impulsively deleted my account :/ also does anyone know the artist? cuz I wanna properly tag them

wc: 0.8k

Jealous!Luffy who sat on his special seat on the Thousand Sunny, watching intently at the interaction before him. His back against the lion's head and arms crossed behind his head in a laid-back manner, despite the intensity of his stare. The captain's precious straw hat resting on his head tilted down, hiding the murderous glare directed at Sanji.

Jealous!Luffy who was stuck watching the interaction before him, how you have Sanji wrapped around your little finger, catering to your very beck and call. His glare unwavering as he saw the way Sanji was looking at you, at the way he was ogling at you, practically undressing you with his perverted eyes.

Jealous!Luffy who recognizes the look Sanji was giving you. Hell, it was the same look he has whenever he sees you. Although... Luffy can't blame Sanji for his lustful gaze, not when you were perched prettily on the lawn chair, looking like an appetizing meal, tempting and delicious.

Jealous!Luffy who was starting to get restless from how you were carelessly sitting there, looking pretty and taking every single compliment Sanji threw your way with a smile on your lovely face. He was getting frustrated from listening to your adorable giggles whenever Sanji showered you with compliments, bringing a smile to your glossy kissable lips. A tiny green monster crawling its way into his heart as he sat unmoving from his seat, watching another man treat you like you were his, when you belonged to Luffy.

Jealous!Luffy who will forever be a kid at heart. Greedy and possessive over what belongs to him. After all, what belongs to Luffy, is his. He did not like to share his food, and he definitely won't share you and the sweet dessert between your thighs. These were merely the captain's orders.

Jealous!Luffy who finally had enough. Getting up from the lion's head, Luffy made a beeline towards your direction. Ignoring the curious looks his other crew mates sent his way, his grip on your forearm firm, maybe a little too firm, and pulling you up as the chair launches to the floor. Ignoring your protests and questions, he made his way towards the women's cabin with you meekly following behind.

Jealous!Luffy who can be impatient at times, kicking the door open and throwing you onto the bed. He can be so impatient, and forgetful too, about locking the door. But you can't blame him, can you? Not when you look breathtaking with your bare back against the bed, your pathetic excuse of a bikini hastily taken off and thrown across the room, and your hair sprawled across the sheets, framing your beautiful face. There was no need for him to tell you what to do, it had become routine work for you.

Jealous!Luffy who can be so mean at times, eagerly coating himself with your slick, before aligning with your slutty pussy and thrusting his cock inside your warm cunt with little to no prep. But he couldn't help himself, not when your silky warm walls were clenching on his cock, trying to milk him for everything he's worth, and especially not when he had you squirming and crying underneath him, begging him for more and more and more. He couldn't help himself, not when the squelching sounds the both of you made were music to his ears, or how the drag of his veins running along the underside of his cock felt like pure heaven against your spongy tight walls.

Jealous!Luffy who worshiped your very existence, marking you as his for others to see. He left bruises and bite marks across your delicate skin, decorating every inch of you his hands or mouth could find. His grip on your hips never weakened, nails digging into your flesh and leaving behind crescent shapes. He continued with his assault. Kissing, licking, and biting from your neck and collarbone, all the way to the valley of your breasts.

Jealous!Luffy who’s pace only increased with each thrust, going harder and faster as he desperately chased after his and your release. Your back arched and nails digging in his back desperately for stability as you clench impossibly tight on his dick, pulling him in further as you come undone around him. But Luffy wasn't done with you just yet.

Jealous!Luffy who kept fucking your poor cunt over and over again, chasing after his release. Until finally, he came. The tip of his cock kissing your cervix as he released his seed deep inside your fertile cunt. Your name rolling off the tip of his tongue like a prayer.

Jealous!Luffy who watched your sensitive pussy spill out his cum, unable to keep it all stuffed inside your tight hole. Using his right index and middle finger, he played around with the mixture of his and your cum, spreading it across your poor puffy lips and pushing it back into your sweet hole. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, he happily cleaned them, humming in approval at his satisfied hunger.

𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 © 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐏𝐒 — do not copy, translate, repost or modify my works on any platform.

[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … TASTE ♡

track one of the short n’sweet series. pairing: bunny!reader x puppy!reader — based loosely off the song taste by sabrina carpenter. disclaimer: this story is based in a separate universe to the usual pogue!puppy / bunny!reader universe! enjoy ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ՞꒱ა

sometimes, relationships just don’t work out.

it wasn’t totally surprising — and looking back on it, to pup — it seemed as though it were doomed from the start. they were from totally different worlds, rafe being a kook and pup being a pogue and at first, truly she found it kind of romantic. the whole montagues versus capulet type of vibe that made her only wanna pin herself harder to rafe cameron’s side.

what made her love him was ultimately their downfall. he was downright mean most days, from the way he’d tug her about to the way he’d shake her head anytime she did anything he deemed too pogue-ish. rafe cameron is one of those few men that are so gorgeous that they could get away with murder, quite literally — so it wasn’t to anyone’s surprise that she put up with him for so long. that cruelty that she allowed was a reflection of how she truly felt about herself on the inside. undeserving of respect. each time he’d fuck her into the mattress with her face planted into a pillow, creaming uncontrollably around his base — she’d be revelling in the physical affection no matter how rough and violating it came across— even more so when he’d hold her at the end of it. always short lived, always fleeting, always made her feel better.

she’d escaped that relationship to learn how to love herself. with experience now under her belt gained from the kook himself, she was free to navigate the world and search for someone that just might touch her with a gentle hand. gone were the days she craved a strike to the cheek or blunt fingernails gripping into her ass. softness was what she needed, and by god she’d find it.

she didn’t actually think she’d care to think about him much more down the line a few months later— he was merely a thing of the past and honestly puppy was doing a lot better because of it. but unsurprisingly, old feelings were surely drug up when the kook boy who she forgot to unfollow all but jumpscared her on her instagram feed. not his usual self worshipping post of him on a yacht, no— it was her old rafe, with a girl on his arm. clinging to him just like pup did.

the girl was tagged, and puppy didn’t hesitate to press. it was just curiosity, she told herself as she scrolled down the sea of pink feed this mystery girl had created— a couple of pictures with rafe already posted. she was jaw dropping, a kook no doubt from the looks of her bedroom in the background of her mirror selfies. a prom queen, as titled in one of her posts with a tiara from a good few years ago at the bottom of her feed and an ex beauty pageant baby judging by the throwback thursday pinned in her highlights. there was this gentle yet pampered and spoiled energy around her like the world fell at her feet. a fluffed up, well fed bunny rabbit in a hutch of gold.

pup started to see bunny around more and more since finding her instagram. the pogue girl would find herself ever so slightly ducking out of vision upon spotting the two of them loading up onto rafes boat as she sailed past. her skin seemed to glow in the sunlight and pup wondered if rafe was the one to massage the sunscreen oil into her skin, taking extra time to massage it into the plush skin of her ass, even smirking when she squealed and told him to watch his hands in public. as they stand at the pier, rafe has a gentle hand on her lower back, fingers tucked ever so slightly into the waistband of her bikini. he looks… soft, and non threatening. touching her like she was made of glass, touching her gentler than he ever touched puppy.

puppy’s heart all but stopped in her chest when she served bunny at the checkout of the store she worked in. she supposed rafe couldn’t have been far, sending bunny in alone as to not have an awkward run in with her knowing she worked there. a part of pup wanted bun to be rude. she was a kook after all — and aren’t exes supposed to hate the new girl? of course, she was nothing of the type. sweet and patient, with good eye contact and a perfect smile. it should have made pup’s blood run cold. should have.

instead, pup buried herself in the weird guilt that sat on her chest when she’d find herself typing bunny’s instagram handle into the search bar and sliding a hand down her shorts a few nights later, in need of quick relief. she told herself it was purely physical, a strange bodily reaction to jealousy and comparison — and the fact that bun had her tits hanging out her top in every picture, and pup could distinctly remember the way her ass cheeks jiggled as they hung beneath her short hemline when she exit the store she works at. nothing more than a quick, weird orgasm.

bunny had heard whisperings of the girl rafe was with before she arrived in kildare. a pogue, not that it mattered but she was simply surprised. by the way rafe spoke so ill of those from the other side of the island, bun couldn’t help but wonder what that relationship looked like, why it ended, how. she tried to be subtle in asking around of course, purely out of curiosity — but words to quell a non existent insecurity were thrown vaguely her way instead, quick to put down the other woman. “you’re so much better with rafe. it just makes sense, you know? that girl before you… sheesh, i don’t know. pretty girl, but a real scruffball. i don’t know what rafe was thinking.”

the same thing carried through when she even tried to ask rafe, who simply scoffed and shrugged her off with a “why? who— who cares about that bitch.” before continuing on with his heavy petting, moving in to kiss her jaw. bunny turned her head away in thought.

bun’s heart rate picked up a bunch when they started to kiss. she must’ve been a sick perv for feeling curious, because each time rafes tongue passed over hers she could only imagine how many times the same wet muscle would glide through the pretty pogues folds to land up near her clit. she wondered if he ever treat her that well. she wondered if you deserved it.

when puppy heard that rafe had been speaking ill of her at the country club once more, she didn’t think — just immediately marched to tanny hill to confront him. perhaps it was unwise of her to think rafe cameron could be mature enough to handle a breakup without talking down on her — but regardless, she had done too much healing and growing to let things slide.

with blood pumping in her ears and anger thrumming in her gut she marched right into the open doors of tanny hill, figuring he’d be home. but after calling his name a good few times, demanding his presence in the foyer — she decided to go looking for him herself, mary-jane converse plodding up the stairs in the direction of his bedroom. a chill settles over her skin at not only the eerie silence, but the fact it had been a long time since she’d taken this oddly familiar journey.

swinging open the doors, pup is met with a gut wrenching sight. it wasn’t him stood before her, but bunny— and she’s clad in a stupid little pink silk robe.

“oh i’m not — i was coming to find rafe because— he’s — he is being an asshole.”

bunny looks nothing close to surprised. infact, she moves slow— blinking her dolly eyelashes as she takes it all in. pup was the last person she’d expected to see, and yet it was not unwelcomed. she wondered why she wasn’t shocked regarding an acquaintance barging angrily into the house. why she’d felt her presence from a block away.

“i know.” she breathes, and it’s all she says.

twenty seven minutes later, and pup finds herself on her back in rafe cameron’s bed once more— months after she told herself it was the last time. though it wasn’t rafe that had her throwing her head back and digging her pastel-painted nails into the sheets, it was the glittering cloud of woman between her thighs, lapping up each drop of juice that seeps from the peak.

bunny is hungry— she’d never eaten a girl out before but god does she know what she likes, twirling her tongue like a tiny ballet dancer in circles around pups poor swollen clit. the pogue is beside herself, feet pressed flat to the bed so she could raise her hips and hump against the girls mouth. she’s sure she’d had a dream like this once that she tried to erase from her mind.

knocked back by the force of puppy’s humps, bun pulls back to look at the girl all bleary eyed and fucked out, lips glossy despite her makeup being wiped off a while ago from their frantic, confused and desperate kisses.

“s’it your first time? rafe never…” she whispers, like saying his name made it more likely they’d get caught.

pup shakes her head, broken out of her trance with a wobbling bottom lip. “n—no. never. he said— said i wasn’t — he just wouldn’t—”

“oh gosh.” bunny sighs in disappointment. “literally can’t imagine why not.” her manicured fingers spread pups puffy folds, and she whimpers in arousal as she watches the pogues pretty clit twitching in desperation to be sucked on again. “i jus’ dont know what it is…” her hot breath kisses pups clit anyways. “but ever since i knew who you were… jus’ wanted to know what it was like…” she smears her lips around the area pup needed her the most, if there was any lipgloss left over it would have transferred to her skin. “to taste you.”

pup had to say, the feeling was mutual.

[muzansfangs]

We are on the same boat. If only he was less grumpy and murderous, he’d make such a great candidate for a wedding🤷🏻‍♀️❤️

Grumpy, fedora-wearing husband who begrudgingly takes photos of you on a summer holiday 🤭❤️

Heatwave.

Starring: Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader;

Format: drabble;

Warnings: fluff, slightly suggestive, modern au, married couple dynamics, human!muzan, jealousy, lovesick Muzan;

Plot: it was that time of the year when you packed your stuff and travelled towards tropical destinations together. Your husband loathed the sun, the heatwaves made him particularly grumpy, especially since you wore such scandalous bikinis. However, you were too beautiful for him not to lavish.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

The crystal water sparkled under the blood orange sky, the colorful lanterns around the dock and the sun disappearing behind the horizon setting off the ocean, twinkling like a starry night sky. The waves embraced the shore steadily, the cry of some seagulls in the distance cutting the sultry air of the summer evening, as you twirled around the beach barefoot.

Your laughter, the way you smiled lazily and ran your fingers through your hair to draw back a cowlick tickling your nose made it hard for him to display his perpetually grumpy face. Instead, his hand reached for his phone in the pocket of his white capri pants. He was definitely not a beach person and he hated summer with every melocule of his body, but you made that nauseating season more bearable, almost pleasant, if he had to be completely honest.

You were not paying attention to him, leading the way to your hotel instead as your bright eyes soaked in the spectacular landscape around you. Another one, he just needed to take one more picture of you.

You did not have to know.

Right, you could just go on with your walk and bless his eyes with the vision of your smile and your body, of the way the bikini you had bought complimented your curves, ‘much to his dismay’. All you had to do was live and he was happy to contemplate you, without disrupting that moment of peace.

The click of the camera broke the spell. You blinked skeptically, head turning towards Muzan in confusion “Huh? Did you take a picture of me?” you asked him, stopping in your tracks as he cussed under his breath.

Mission accomplished, but he had been caught.

“What makes you think I did? Maybe I just liked the sunset” he replied smoothly, quick to shove his phone back into his pocket, out of your reach.

You chuckled, shoulders slacking “Really? I did not know you were into photography. Show me” you chirped out, but he avoided your gaze and huffed.

He had been caught red-handed and now there was no way in Hell he was going to accept his fate and admit you were right. He loved taking pictures of you, he liked to scroll through his photo gallery and relax at the sight of your pretty face, most of the time inattetive, as Kokushibo drove him yet to another tiring meeting with a group of white-collars spluttering nonsense about economic strategies supposedly benefitting the Country.

Muzan looked up at the sky, hands into his pockets “I needed a new lockscreen” he finally asserted, watching you stroll back towards him in glee, sandals in your hands flopping together with your giddy shamble.

“Ah, I knew it! — you gloated, stopping right in front of you, smirking — If you wanted me to pose for you, all you had to do was ask for it” you said, tossing your shoes onto the sand and leisurely swinging your arms around his shoulders.

Muzan dipped his head towards you, pointy nose brushing against yours “You don’t need to pose to look good” he stated, voice lowering and taking a tender edge only you had ever had the pleasure to see.

He could be cold-blooded, unphased, a calculator but he never once lied to you. He never let you down, he never shut you out. You had the privilege to love and be loved by him, there was no way in Hell he was going to admit you had stolen his heart.

With a kiss, you melted in his arm. Your mouth sealed with his, your breaths mingling as you were teleported into your own little world for a few seconds. At least, until a crab stapled to Muzan’s toe and he groaned out in sheer irritation.

“Useless creature from Hell” he hissed, swatting it away as you bursted out laughing, your gasps and laughter warming his heart.

He was still your Muzan, grumpy and yours.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Back home and back to posting! Enjoying this small drabble on my birthday. Likes, re-posts and comments are greatly apprecciated! Love y’all,

Luce!

[stoneagedevil]

They’ll Understand (Somethin’ Stupid pt. 2) | Alastor x f!Reader

Part 1: “Somethin’ Stupid”

TW/CW: Angel being Angel. Anxiety and fear. Allusions to murder.

🎙️

“Wear this little number? He won’t be able to resist ya!” Angel was keeping you captive in his room, currently raiding his closet in search for something you could wear to impress Alastor, and according to Angel, once you “reeled him in with your pretty face” and “rockin’ body” you’d be able to “bed him.” You weren’t necessarily pleased with his wording, your face turning as red as your dreamboat’s hair.

“Angel, while I appreciate the gesture, I’m not comfortable wearing a leather bikini.” You deadpanned. Your anxiety was nipping at your heels, and you felt the urge to run. From what? Most likely confessing. To where? You didn’t know. But you hated how it was bringing the skittish deer out of you, as it was truly embarrassing. Alastor and you often confided in each other on how your demonic forms had caused you numerous headaches, and you felt comforted that someone you admired so much also experienced the same things you did, just as he felt that way about you. But you didn’t run from things, as they typically ran from you. You stood from Angel’s bed and started pacing again in an attempt to quell the instinct to run.

“Even if he reciprocated, what am I meant to do with love? What happens after?” You tilted your head at Angel, and he dropped another inappropriate article of clothing in shock at your question.

“You mean you’ve neva seen those cheesy romance flix before?” Angel’s eyes widened. This was the saddest thing ever. Identifying these feelings was one thing, but the fact that you didn’t know how to act on them was so depressing to Angel. Just how emotionally constipated were you? Hadn’t you felt love before? What kind of life had you led that you didn’t know the feeling at all?

“I can’t say I really watched much TV. Just the same few movies I really enjoyed over and over again when I wanted to hear another’s voice. Definitely not romance films.” You contemplated. No, you couldn’t recall ever watching romance films. You weren’t particularly keen on watching much TV, and you only went to the movie theatre when something truly interested you. However, you would occasionally put on a movie in the background while doing chores such as laundry, as it filled the empty space; if it wasn’t a movie, it was music, and it most often was.

“Well sit your ass down then, because class is in session.” After unceremoniously pushing your shoulders down to make you sit on his bed once more, Angel immediately went to where he kept his romance movies, pulling out a handful and explaining each one to you, before making you watch the best scenes from each.

Initially, you were quite apprehensive. Angel the Love Doctor’s license was certainly questionable, especially with this prescription of mushy movies. But eventually, you resonated with a lot of the characters, specifically the ones who were troubled with their feelings, like that one “Edward Cullen” guy.

From your understanding, love was one of the most powerful emotions a person could feel. It drove these characters to do insane things that furthered the plot of the movie; things you’ve done because of your feelings for Alastor: like hurting people you felt threatened by. Through these scenes, you learned about jealousy, of so-called “butterflies,” how people apart hurt inside.

But love made them…happy. Happy. Content in domestic bliss. You felt a pull in your chest, realizing you couldn’t ever remember feeling that way. You hadn’t had anyone around you interested in the same things you were. You were always the outlier. Always the one picked last for things. It didn’t particularly bother you at the time; back when you were alive. You didn’t have much to care about. But now, you felt you had something good to die for, which made it that much more beautiful to live.

Your brows were furrowed in concentration, and you were so focused on the screen and the interactions between the lovers that Angel sat you in front of, you failed to notice a stream of tears coming from your eyes.

Angel quickly took notice, pausing the TV immediately. “Woah woah woah, why’re you crying babe?” He plucked a tissue from the box beside his bed and dabbed underneath your eyes. Fuck. He didn’t think he’d be making you feel bad.

“Crying?” You brought a hand up to your cheek, surprised to find it damp. You marveled at the way the films made you feel, how imagining Alastor and yourself in their shoes made you feel, staring at the teardrops on your fingertips. “I- I feel like I understand. Like a want has just become a need. It’s truly wonderful. Like a breath of fresh air.” You smiled softly, moving to look into Angel’s eyes.

“Sheesh dollface, you had me worried.” Angel rolled his eyes playfully, internally relieved that he hadn’t just made an overlord cry, but most of all, that he hadn’t made a friend cry. “So now that you kinda get it, what’re ya gonna do?” You brainstormed for a second at the question, as it didn’t take long to figure out what would make Alastor the happiest.

“Alastor is a musical man.” You stated, instantly becoming more analytical and focused on the best way to get your feelings across to Alastor. “He’d never shy away from listening to a good song…” You trailed off.

“…so? Are you thinkin’ what I think you’re thinkin’?” Angel smiled smugly. He knew you sang to yourself during daily tasks, but you weren’t much of an extrovert, only making scenes when you had to establish your title as an overlord whenever demons seemed to forget. He imagined if you knew he could hear you singing in the shower next to his room, you’d be mortified. It was funny how you and Alastor could be so different, yet so alike, as Alastor was an extroverted entertainer.

“I’m thinking that in order to make him listen, and to make this special, I should sing for him. People always say the best way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, but Alastor is quite adept at cooking. He wouldn’t need me for that.” You smiled to yourself, thinking back to times when Alastor would have you taste test a dish. Perhaps food was the way to your heart too, specifically his cooking.

—

Charlie was currently helping Alastor come up with sure fire ways to make you his officially (in his head you already were). Her notepad was filled with things her and Alastor knew you liked, hoping to put the information to good use.

Charlie had become wildly animated, smile stretched from cheek to rosy cheek. “You should tell her with a grand gesture! With fireworks and flowers and confetti and chocolates and singing and-“ Alastor raised a hand to stop her barrage of outlandish ideas.

“Charlie, I’m afraid that’s a bit too much.” Alastor stubbed out her sparkling ideas like a cigarette. While he was known to be grand in his executions (literal executions as well), he wanted this to be more personal. More intimate. Part of it was that he was incredibly shy about his romantic feelings for you, though he’d never let on to it. You were an intimidating woman, it was one of the reasons he fell in love with you, so he preferred to do this in private where no one could see his facial expressions. In addition to that, he knew how introverted you were in comparison to him; an incredibly private person.

“Okay, what about dinner at a super fancy restaurant? And flowers. You have to give her flowers.”

“And how do you propose I do that?” He summoned a rose, which had begun to rapidly wilt and die soon after the stem had touched his fingertips. It irked him. Something he previously didn’t have a problem with now stood in between him and your heart.

“Oh…” Charlie’s head hit the table. How was she supposed to help Hell’s population problem if she couldn’t even help Alastor express his romantic feelings for you? This was so hard.

“Fret not my dear, your dinner idea was exceptional! However, I think I should be the one to make the dishes.” A candlelit dinner with your favorite food being brought to you by him? You’d already expressed how much you enjoyed his cooking every time he held a spoonful of food up to your face. Feeding you and hearing you sing his praises on another culinary success made him feel as though he were floating. With you by his side, he was sure he wouldn’t have to walk anywhere ever again.

“That’s a great idea! I bet that would really impress her! And I can be the one to put the flowers on the table so they don’t wilt!” She clasped her face in between her hands, almost as if she was trying to stop her smile from getting any wider.

Immediately after establishing their plans, Alastor and his wing-woman Charlie had begun to research the best recipes pertaining to your tastes.

This had to be absolutely perfect, Alastor thought.

—

Music. It was what you and Alastor had bonded most over. He showed you Jazz’s greatest artists, the pioneers of brassy sounds, and you adored his passion in the genre. You listened to what you liked, as simple as that sounds. Your tastes often surpassed any one genre, and you found yourself dipping your hooves into anything; even just to give it a chance.

If music had brought you so close to Alastor, surely it would bring you even closer. Once you left Angel’s room, you dove into your collections of vinyl and CDs you acquired over your time in Hell. The greatest hits pertaining to love flooded your room, and you listened intently to the lyrics. Looking down at the notepad in front of you, you began to write about the way Alastor made you feel. This had to be absolutely perfect, you thought.

—

A couple days passed, and as Alastor opened the door to his hotel room to step out and retrieve the suit he was having pressed, a note taped onto it caught his ruby sight. With an eyebrow raised, he skeptically plucked the note from his door and began to read it.

“Dearest Alastor,

I hope you’ll find the time to come to the ballroom located in the hotel at 6pm. I’ve made a gift for you, and I’m hoping you’ll accept.

From,

Y/N”

You sat writing many iterations of that damned letter. Was “With love” too much? “Forever yours” most certainly was, no matter how true it was. “Sincerely” was stupid. Maybe you should just keep it simple.

“From, Y/N.” Simple. Simply stupid. But you went with it anyway.

Alastor’s heart leaped up to his throat, he was sure if he opened his mouth, it would jump out and find its way towards you. He retreated back into his room, opening one of the drawers he dedicated to you. It was filled with notes containing songs you’ve written down for him, and songs he wrote down that you recommended verbally. The wilted rose he wished so desperately to give to you that was used as a demonstration to Charlie on why he couldn’t. Receipts from outings you two accompanied each other on, and his ticket from your trip to the movie theatre that was playing one of your favorite movies at the time. He truly tried his best to pay attention to the silver screen, but he mostly found himself enamored with the way the light from the screen lit up your face.

He gently placed his newest treasure in the drawer, excited to see what you had in store for the night. Though, on the other hand, he was a bit nervous and disappointed. He’d planned on picking up all of the ingredients for a dish that would knock your socks off, in addition to picking up his pressed suit. If you had something to give to him, he wouldn’t have time to cook this night. His heart and shadow were getting antsy, the latter outwardly showing his deepest desires which he adamantly detested. He’d catch his shadow practically making heart eyes at you, and Alastor found himself wishing he would wave his hands at it to make it diminish like cigarette smoke in the air.

No matter! Perhaps after whatever you had planned, he’d ask you to a dinner cooked and presented by him. Closing the drawer, he made his way out to the dry cleaners to ensure he wouldn’t forget his suit when the time came to woo you. However, what he did forget, was letting Charlie know of this change of plans, who had already helped in setting up a table for two with red roses and unlit candles in a candelabra sitting in the center; all set up in the very room you wished to deliver your gift.

—

You had spent quite some time writing your song dedicated to Alastor, and soon after its completion, you enlisted the help of your souls-turned-shadows to play instruments and do background vocals. There was no way in Hell you’d allow a demon to aid in this. You rehearsed a few times before deeming it a perfect performance that you were willing to give to Alastor. The time was now a little after 4, and you decided to get ready.

Your hair was curled, makeup to your liking, and you wore a black tea-length dress with an abundance of white tulle underneath the skirt to make it flare out more. The sweetheart neckline sported a small, white, satin bow in the center. You slipped on a shiny pair of black kitten heels, opting for more of a comfortable dress shoe - your nerves were sure to make you incredibly uncomfortable, so you attempted to counteract that a bit by making your physical self as comfortable yet stylish as it could be. As a finishing touch, you clasped a string of pearls around your neck. They were a gift from Alastor when he found out that it was your birthday. You told him you didn’t need anything, and that birthdays sort of lost their meanings when you lived for so long in Hell, but he wouldn’t hear any of it, adamantly telling you that your birth was something to be celebrated. If you had figured out your feelings for him by then, you’re sure you would have kissed him.

You turned to look into the mirror wondering if Alastor would think you looked nice. Nervously, you made your way to Angel’s room beside yours. Hesitantly you knocked, opening the door when a muffled “come in” prompted you to.

“What’s up toots? Hey! Don’t you clean up nice!” He exclaimed, getting up from his bed and taking your hand to spin you around, dress flaring out around you as you spun.

“You don’t think it’s too much? Or too little?” You looked into Angel’s mirror, your hands worrying over any perceived imperfection. Angel once more grabbed your hands to stop them from flying around.

“Girl, you look great, and I know he’ll think so too.” He quelled your nerves. Then you did something out of character, you hugged him. Initially taken aback, Angel’s arms tightened around you.

“Thank you Angel.”

—

Alastor arrived at 6 on the dot. Not always punctual, never late, and always on time. Although he did want to arrive at the ballroom earlier, he didn’t want to seem too eager, even though he most certainly was. His excitement rolled off of him in waves, making the demons he met along the way to pick up his suit even more uneasy than usual.

When he walked through the grand doors, he saw his little setup that he and Charlie planned to set up for the dinner date. He contemplated hiding the table, conjuring a portal to a shadow dimension and pushing the evidence of his feelings for you into the dark abyss, but before he could act on this, he heard the clicking of heels making their way across the stage portion of the ballroom.

You were a vision, and he considered pinching himself as he thought he was looking at an angel. He hadn’t mistakenly enrolled in the redemption program, did something good, and then made his way upstairs, did he? You stood in front of a silver microphone, your hands shakily grasping it to keep yourself steady. Alastor clumsily grasped the back of one of the chairs meant for the two of you, slowly lowering himself into the seat and never taking his eyes off of your form.

“My gift is a song I’ve written with you in mind.” You said simply, and although you outwardly looked as confident as you always did, internally you were sure you were dying a second time.

The sounds of a glockenspiel sounded throughout the room signifying the beginning of the song, followed by background vocals singing “Anyone.” You took a deep breath, closing your eyes and stepping closer to the mic before beginning your song.

“You can blame me,

Try to shame me,

And still I'll care for you,

You can run around,

Even put me down,

Still I'll be there for you,”

You knew he’d never do these things to you, but you wanted to tell him that no matter the hardships, you’d always be there for him. Alastor’s heart was beating faster than it ever had before, was this a love song? No…

“The world

May think I'm foolish,

They can't see you,

Like I can,

Oh but anyone,

Who knows what love is,

Will understand”

It’s amusing to think that not too long ago, you were someone who didn’t understand. But here you are now, singing that you couldn’t care less about what others would think if they knew the depths of your feelings for Alastor.

Speaking of the devil, these blasted eyes of his kept fogging up, making it difficult to see you. Nobody has ever done this sort of thing for him, and he was absolutely enamored with your voice and the lyrics you wrote about him. He gripped the chair that he was sitting in, afraid he’d float away and miss the rest of your carefully crafted performance. He’d never seen you with so much emotion on your face, these visual feelings you possessed highlighted by pink and red lights. He would’ve been grateful for the color choice, as it hid his bright red face, but he couldn’t find it in him to care, much less even notice the effect you had on him. All he could see and hear was you, and he wanted it to be that way forever.

“I just feel so sorry,

For the ones,

Who pity me,

'Cause they just don't know,

Oh they don't know what happiness and love can be,”

You opened your eyes to stare into Alastor’s as you delivered the next few lines.

“I know,

I know to ever let you go,

It's more,

Than I,

Could ever stand,

Oh but anyone,

Who knows what love is,

Will understand”

You thought about how Angel had helped you understand in his own strange way, and this verse was almost like a thank you note to him. The music began to lull as you sang the last few lines.

“Oh they'll understand,

If they try love they'll understand,

Oh try to understand”

The last line was for Alastor, and you almost prayed he would try and understand your feelings for him, and hopefully realize any feelings he had for you.

The song had finally finished, and if Alastor had a time machine he’d travel three minutes into the past in order to hear you sing again. Then he’d do it over and over and over again. Making your way down from the stage, Alastor shot up from his seat. He’d rehearsed how he’d proclaim his undying love for you, but now that you’d done it first, he was scrambling.

He panicked. He actually panicked. He ripped the red roses from the vase sat on table and held them out to you, the both of you watching in shock (Alastor mostly in horror) as the roses had the life sucked out from their stems and the vase tipped over causing water to spill onto the floor between you both. His smile tightened, eyes snapping shut as he debated teleporting far, far away from here; never to return. But his jumbled and anxiety ridden thoughts were cut short when he felt soft hands gently pry open his larger ones, taking the flowers. It was you, and you were smiling the biggest smile he’d ever seen you make, and it was directed at him.

You lifted the dead roses to your face and inhaled the remnants of their floral scent, and Alastor’s heart melted at the gesture.

“Your song was wonderful my dear. May I ask for an encore?” He said, shyly. Your cheeks turned rosy, and you bashfully looked away.

“You didn’t think it was ridiculous?” You asked hopefully, tightly clutching your dead bouquet.

“Ridiculous? It was nothing of the sort! For a moment I thought I was in Heaven and I was most-“

You tugged him down by the collar of his shirt and pressed an unsure kiss to his lips. His ears stood straight up, tail secretly wagging behind him, just as yours did. He melted into the affectionate gesture, moving his claws to cradle your neck and the small of your back in order to bring you closer. Pulling away, you lovingly gazed into each other's eyes.

“Y/N, your performance was absolutely astounding. I’d trade every vinyl in my collection for just a second more.” And that was the truth. He was sure no song would ever compare to the masterpiece you crafted for him. Because of him.

“Then I suppose I’ll just have to record it and have it pressed just for you. You wouldn’t happen to know a guy with recording equipment, would you?” You flirted.

“My darling, of course I do! He’s quite the catch too, though using the equipment comes with a price.” He smiled smugly, cheeks just as red as yours.

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“You’ll have to allow him to call you his girl, it’s just the rules my darling.” Internally, he was nervous you’d reject him. Why? You just wrote, composed, and performed an entire song for him. But it was you. Anyone would be lucky to have you, and he couldn’t believe quite yet that you returned the feelings he’d been trying to grapple with for some time.

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, leaving a kiss mark (one he’d refuse to wipe off for some time). “I’d love nothing more.”

—

Later that night, Alastor and you had retired to your room. You sat at the end of your couch, his head resting in your lap as you told each other stories about what you had stupidly done in the name of your unknown love for each other.

“It’s funny, that table was in the ballroom because I planned on taking you on a dinner date tonight. Charlie lent a hand in planning it.” Alastor revealed.

You tilted your head at the fact that Alastor too had a “wingman” as Angel had put it. “Charlie? How funny, Angel helped me with some things too. He actually helped me realize my feelings for you.”

“Charlie helped me the same way. She said that you obviously fancied me.” He had a smug smile on his face, looking for your reaction.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline at the allegation. “What? How? Was I truly that obvious?”

“Yes, well, a little birdy told me about a certain carpet incident with Mimzy, my darling.” That was his favorite story. He’d often imagine you glaring angrily at a clueless Mimzy, lifting a manicured claw and causing the poor blonde’s face to harshly meet the floor.

You turned your nose up indignantly. “Incident? I was merely helping her get a better look at the carpet she continuously complimented you on picking out.” You huffed, crossing your arms. Alastor laughed at your adorable behavior, loving the jealousy that came off you in waves at the mention of Mimzy.

“Don’t worry my love, no other woman could compare to you. Anyone who knows what love is could see I only have eyes for you.”

—♥️—

I hoped you all enjoyed that, and I really appreciate the love you all gave to part 1!

Taglist: @alastruist @martinys-world @ustulia

[bejeweledblondie]

You Don’t Send A Man To Do A Woman’s Job

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish x F! Reader

Summary: Heavily Inspired by the Fast Furious scene with Gal Gadot. While trying to figure out how to get intel on Makarov Y/N’s quick thinking & feminine ways help gain that intel much to surprise to Soap

Warnings: Sexual themes, seduction, mentions of female body parts

Being in the military definitely had it pitfalls sometimes it could mean sitting in a remote shack for days or even not having running water. But it definitely did have its perks. This was one of them. Drinking frozen Margaritas in the Bahamas Y/N, Soap, & Gaz all stood around a high top table staring at a group of Russians. They were given a tip that some of Makarov’s men were on vacation here. Soap & Gaz were bickering over what was the best way to gain intel off of them. Ghost & Captain Price were planted on the roof of the resort god forbid things went south.

“And how do you propose we do that? We can’t exactly just plant a device wherever we wanted to.” Soap replied with attitude. Gaz rolled his eyes & before he could even respond Price came over the radio.

“Oi knock it off you two!” He shouted. “Figure a plan out and let us know.” He sounded beyond frustrated & rightfully so. Y/N kept staring at them brainstorming ways she herself could be of assistance. Then she saw a very attractive blonde woman flirt with the armed guards outside of the cabana. It clearly drew attention to her & the the Russians invited her in. She plopped herself down onto one of their laps & accepted one of their drinks. A light bulb went off in her head.

“Guys.” She said trying to gain their attention. They started to bicker again & completely ignored her. “Soap? Gaz?” She tried again to no avail. “Fuck it, I’m going in Captain. Just make sure you’re recording their conversations.” She said into her hidden ear piece & whipped off her leopard coverup to reveal a cheeky red bikini. As she started to walk away both Soap & Gaz stopped talking.

“Steamin’ Jesus.” Soap said. Ghost & Price both chucked at the expense of his reaction. Everyone knew Soap had a thing for you it was so incredibly painfully obvious to everyone except you. He couldn’t help but admire the way your bikini bottoms hugged your ass or the fact your toned legs stretched on for miles. He licked his lips at the sight.

As she walked towards the cabana she gained some unwanted attention from men scattered all over the pool, but it didn’t phase her. She was on a mission & was determined. Once she made it to the cabana she started to flirt with the armed guards. With her breasts pushed up in her bikini top & her famous smile she had gained the attention of one of the Russians.

“It’s fine Ivan, let the beautiful American woman in.” One of the men said. “Come sit.” He beckoned her to come in & sit down. She sat on the arm of his chair & he immediately grabbed a handful of her ass. Then he said made a remark to his friend in Russian about how good your ass felt. To his knowledge you had absolutely no idea what he was talking about. But after being part of the US Army’s psychological warfare division Russian was one of five language you knew.

Back at the high top, Soap was ready to fight the man who grabbed you. Gaz almost had to physically restrain him.

“Think of the mission, Soap.” He reminded him. Soap grumbled to himself & started to mope into his drink. Over the next hour she had gained some of the most important intel about weapons, imports, exports, hell the whole operation. Soon the Russians started to get up to excuse themselves for dinner.

The man she had been sitting with, whom she come to know as Andrei invited her to dinner. She accepted even though she wouldn’t be attending. A small piece of her felt bad for lying. But she quickly reminded herself these men were war criminals. They profited off of the murder of children, women, & families. Once all of them were gone she walked back over to the high top where Soap & Gaz were.

Soap took the time to take in the sight of her walking towards them. Her breasts bouncing with each step, & the way her hips swayed. He was undressing her with his eyes & imagined her without that damn red bikini. Once she reached the table she put the cover up back on covering her body.

“So how much intel did you gain?” Gaz asked.

“More then we needed.” She replied.

“I have to ask, how on the Earth did you accomplish that?” Soap asked. She turned to him & smirked.

“It’s easy MacTavish, you don’t send a man to do a woman’s job.” She replied.

[mothwingwritings]

Idk if you’re into omega verse but omg I just thought of it being applied to Yujiro and poor omega reader goddamn 😭 (I think I may have gone a little bit too far on this one ngl, also I’m half asleep so sorry for any issues..)

Nasty nasty Alpha Yujiro who takes advantage of poor little you. Who would have thought he’d ever encounter such a rare beauty? Omegas were practically extinct in the baki universe, the world full of hardened alphas made no room for the sweet soft omegas. And yet here you were against all odds.

From the moment he met you, he’d made the promise that he would never spread his seed through out the world.

Nay, he was going to hammer in his children into your fertile womb as you cried out in overstimulation. You would carry all of his offspring for the rest of your life. That was a promise.

While many of his past devoted lovers would have been flattered by his devotion, you were anything but.

Sure Yujiro would disappear on some days but no longer than a week.

But on the days he were in your house. It’d be a constant running away and fighting off the lustful touches of Yujiro.

The dreadful “Honey~ I’m home!~” had you cringing so hard as thick muscular arms surrounded your waist.

Having to take showers with the Ogre that always ended with you pressed up against the glass mirror as Yujiro crowded you against it.

Having your favorite clothes torn to shreds as he tried to make “love to you”.

Waking up in the middle of the night to see the humongous man deep in your guts as he ruthlessly pounded into you.

And when you went in heat…oh boy.

You’re horny 24/7 and you won’t fight back at all? Just lil ol you whimpering about how much it hurts and that you need something inside? You’d let the older man kiss you and cling onto him needily. His poor little omega!

Yeah, Yujiro loves your heats.

This man keeps a track record of when your heats are around the corner. It doesn’t matter if he’s in another country or across the globe the globe away from you. If he sees you have started your heat, he’s running like a madman with the nastiest smirk that has people running away screaming. They all thought he was out to murder someone (ya ur lil meow meow)

Out of spite you decide to hook up with some random beta when your heat starts up. Which immediately back fires when Yujiro has said man tied up as he watches you get plowed down by your real alpha.

“My little omega, have I neglected you so much that you seeked out some limp dick beta to satisfy you? I guess I’ll have to you more attention to keep you satisfied, huh?”

You know Yujiro is going to show you off. I mean, who wouldn’t?

He’s pulling up to the tournaments with you sitting on his shoulder clad in a thin bikini. Your looking away from the many lustful looks directed at you, all while Yujiro basks in the jealous looks he receives.

They all look so angry at him, but yet…too intimidated to muster the courage to say anything to him. Yes this was a fine idea.

He’s got you wearing a pretty diamond collar with the letters “Property of Ogre.”

Every time you both return from such fights, it didn’t matter if he came back angry or happy both were valid reasons to fuck you in the entrance your home. After that he would ravage you on any surface in the house.

He was going to get so many babies out of you.

Me reading this ask loool

You must have read my mind anon, I was just musing the other day on how I want to some day take a stab at writing an ABO fic and the Bakiverse would be perfect fodder for it. 😌

But God... Yujiro would be the worst fucking Alpha. That man could track you down from miles away, knowing where you are at all times should he need you. And he has such intricate knowledge on basically every aspect of you and your life that it goes beyond concerning, it's downright invasive. It takes no time at all for him to claim fuck you, giving you no time to really sus him out or get to know him before you've become irrevocably his. He's now your bonded partner, and you are not at all thrilled with that.

When yujiro comes to claim you he attacks you with such a bestial, feral intensity that you are afraid one day your body won't be able to take the abuse he inflicts on it, giving you serious concerns over whether you will survive the mating process. You got lucky the first time, but what about in the future? How many pups does he plan to pump inside of you? The thought keeps you up at night. You don't even want to parent his offspring, let alone be demoted to his breeding stock to be fucked full again and again and again. You would have chosen ANY alpha other than Yujiro, but now this was your lot in life-forced to not only be his mate, but bear his children, creating new versions of this monster to roam the planet. Would they grow up to be like their father, or would you have any hope of raising them to be decent, loving people?

Also, I feel like your body will just constantly be marked up everywhere. His mating bites don't stop at the scent glands, and you usually end up looking like you just left a 12 round boxing match on the losing side instead of a mating session with your alpha. :(

And when you are in heat its the absolute fucking worst. Lusting after Yurjiro, your entire body aching for him to desecrate and destroy you, your insides burning white hot for his touch. Only your alpha can cure you of this all consuming sickness that plagues you, and you turn into a whiny blubbery mess when Yujiro is around, pleading and begging for him to claim you. It's absolutely dreadful how much you yearn for such a barbaric man, and each and every time you are disgusted with how easily you give in to him. You just roll over and become his docile little fuck mate, turned into a wanton, lusting mess from just catching his scent alone. You loath him as much as you need him, and words cannot describe the amount of hate you hold in your heart for the man that turned you into this pathetic shell of who you once were.

[gimmebackmyskeeball]

YALL LOOK WHAT I FOUND IN MY DRAFTS LOLLLLLLL I WROTE THIS SO LONG AGOOOOO

Oh I surf pretty girl…p-pretty good- pretty good! S-good, surf good, pretty good…I surf pretty good.

author’s note: inspired by that one scene from atlantis the lost empire, enjoy!

summary: just jj and his ‘cool’ facade getting brutally murdered the minute he sees the new girl in town

warnings: none!

pairing(s): jj maybank x reader

“Hey you!” the curly haired girl walked through the door of her friends surf shop. “Hey gorgeous. Why so early?” she frowned, “Just wanted to visit my best friend in his beautiful shop that’s all.” Jj gave her an unconvinced look, “Oh, how sweet. What do you want?” Kiara’s smile dropped, “Weed.” He scoffed, “Carrera!” she placed her hands in her pockets, “Okay look I-” the familiar sound of the bell interrupted her.

The girl walking through the door caught both of their eyes, one more than the other. With her yellow converse’s, denim shorts, red crop where you can see the strap of her beige bikini under it. Her hair out but a claw clip on the side of her tote bag. Gold hoop earrings and an evil eye necklace around her neck. One thing in particular caught the blonde boys attention, her bracelet. She had the same one he was wearing right now, with black and brown beads in order. Kiara smiled to her direction, trying to gain her attention. “He-” he interrupted, “I uhm, I-I need to check the customer.” he followed her with steady steps, stopping right behind her. Placing his confident, charming smile on his face before speaking up, “Hi, do ya uh…need any help?”

She turned back to face him. He could swear to god he never saw someone this…ethereal before. I mean, he would describe it as ethereal if only he knew what ethereal meant. She gave him a smile, his heart melted at the sight. “Hi. No, actually. I was just uhm…looking for someone?” he furrowed his brows, lookin for someone? “Who exactly are ya lookin’ for?” Kiara placed her arm around his shoulders, “Me. Hey, Y/N.” she took her arm back off and gave the girl a hug, “Jj this is Y/N, Y/N this is Jj. Y/N just moved here and I met her at Mrs. Lane’s flower shop. And I love her because she’s sweet and amazing and she loves all those environmental stuff that none of you cares about. And now we’re best friends so you’re only allowed to worship her and be nice” he shot his friend a look, “Yes ma’am.”

“Actually Y/N’s here because I wanted to stop by and get some weed from you and hit the beach with her.” He dramatically gasped, placing his hand over his chest. “You were gonna steal my weed and ditch me?” Kie rolled her eyes, “Technically, I wasn’t gonna steal it. I specifically asked you if you could give me some.” You interrupted, feeling a bit uncomfortable that Jj might think his friend is ditching him for you, “Actually I can just leave and come back another time. You have my number don’t you, Kiara? You’ll give me a call when you’re available.” Kie frowned, tugging at your arm, “Come on! We were gonna surf!” Jj placed his hands on his hips, “You surf, new girl?” You didn’t liked the nickname, you didn’t liked it at all. Maybe he does feel uncomfortable because he thinks you’re stealing his friend. “I’m not like crazy good at it but yeah…I do.” He realized her distant looks, that was not the impression he wanted to give. He shot her a smile to try and make her feel more comfortable around him, “Well, maybe can spend time together... I mean, all three of us.” Kiara chuckled, “Sure, whatever. But we’re gonna surf.” You didn’t wanted him to feel left out, the last thing you wanted was to steal his friend, “He can join. I mean, do you surf?”

“Oh I surf pretty girl…p-pretty good- pretty good! S-good, surf good, pretty good…I surf pretty good.” Oh crap, he thought. He was the god of flirting, what the hell is wrong with him that he stammered when he was talking to you? Kiara bursted out laughing, “Okay, I guess he does surf, pretty girl. So maybe he can join us.” He was happy and embarrassed and humiliated. He needed to pull himself together asap. “So we have another surfing partner huh?” Kie rolled her eyes, her arm still in yours, “No, we have a new surfing partner.” She said, her finger flickering between you and her. “Well, shoot. Someone took my bitch.” She used her available hand to give him a light smack on the head. She let go of you, slowly walking to the door, “Keep it in your pants, Maybank. Also don’t try and make the moves on my new friend. She’s not interested.” He chuckled, sliding your tote bag off of your arm, making it hang over his shoulder. His other arm pulling you closer to his side, “Well don’t try and put words in my new friends mouth. I think she can talk for herself, can’t ya, sugar?”

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Mbissine Thérèse Diop (Black Girl)—She’s a Senegalese actress known for starring in Black Girl, one of the first African films to receive international attention/acclaim. So much of the movie relies on her ability to convey her character’s sense of isolation/loneliness, she’s so amazing, I really wish she had acted more. However, she just recently appeared in the film Cuties!

Virna Lisi (How To Murder Your Wife, The Black Tulip, Assault on a Queen, The 25th Hour)—She was described as 'like Marilyn Monroe and Grace Kelly put together', and Brigitte Bardot called her 'the most beautiful woman in the world'

This is round 1 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Virna Lisi:

She is utterly STUNNING. You know the coming out of a giant cake with a bikini sketch? That was her! Wikipedia says also "She garnered attention for a photo of her 'shaving' her face that appeared on the March 1965 cover of Esquire magazine." Unfortunately I haven't found the pic, but maybe usa fellows know of it? Iconic fake mole under the mouth. Her career spans six decades, so not just a pretty face, but definitely one of the most beautiful italian actresses ever.

Mbissine Thérèse Diop:

[sharonate]

“In ‘Valley of the Dolls’, I made love to a man in bed, but I had on a flesh-colored bikini under the sheets. Why should I be ashamed? You see people murdering each other every day on TV, but you never see them making love — and love is certainly more beautiful. Being sexy is something that comes naturally or not at all. Sex is all in the mind. I don't wear low-cut dresses or pose in bikinis for publicity. I'm more mature now and changing my attitudes all the time. I won't play any more dumb blondes because everyone expects me to be dumb. I will never be another Marilyn Monroe. But I had to do what they wanted at first. When you start out in this business you can't afford to be totally independent or stand up for what's right; by the time you get to the point where you have the power to run your own career they call you a bitch."

—Sharon Tate, January 1968.

Sharon Tate feeding pigeons in London Trafalgar Square (1965).

[eretzyisrael]

Former Miss Iraq pays sympathy visit to site of Hamas slaughter

Sarah Idan (left), former Miss Iraq, on a visit to the site of Kfar Aza, one of the sites ravaged by Hamas terrorists on 7 October

“I visited Kfar Aza, a place where the heart-wrenching horror of Hamas’s infiltration led to a massacre of innocent Israeli families right in their homes,” tweeted Idan, a Democrat running to represent California’s 30th congressional district in place of Adam Schiff, who is vying to enter the U.S. Senate in 2024.

“Located just a mile from Gaza, we stood witness as the Iron Dome intercepted rockets launched by Hamas. I brought my old uniform from Iraq to be mentally prepared, but I was still shocked and at a loss for words. Never in my life, not even amidst the terror of ISIS, have I seen such barbarity. What was once a vibrant community now echoes with a haunting silence of tragedy,” she continued.

By “uniform,” Idan means the camouflage pants, T-shirt reading “Fight Back” and combat boots that she wore as a translator for U.S.-led coalition forces in Iraq.

“I don’t care what’s your religion if your God permits you to do this in his name then your God is wrong. My mind is still traumatized by the scene, the smell of the dead bodies. Shame on those pretending the massacre didn’t happen,” she tweeted.

More than a hundred civilians were murdered and others were kidnapped from Kfar Aza when 3,000 heavily armed Hamas terrorists forced their way across the border and rampaged across the northwestern Negev, murdering around 1,200 persons in total, mostly civilians, wounding thousands more and taking some 240 hostages back to Gaza.

Idan and her family were forced to flee Iraq after she posed for a selfie with Miss Israel Adar Gandelsman at the Miss Universe pageant in Las Vegas in 2017 and wearing a bikini in a swimsuit competition.

Her Iraqi citizenship revoked, Idan immigrated to the United States in 2017.

On May 19, she filed her candidacy for the California seat, which includes the cities of Burbank and West Hollywood, and parts of Glendale and Pasadena.

Read article in full

Iraq beauty queen:’people in Israel looked like my people’

Miss Iraq rebuilding relations between Arabs and Jews

Brave Iraqis get awards for advocating normalisation

[davidluongart]

Affectionate murder 🏹🗡️💘

All of the objects within Ares’ room ( including the pottery vessel of Aphrodite inside a shell that he was holding) were based on discoveries of golden/silver treasures of the Thracians & Scythians in the region of the Black Sea-whom Ares were most associated within mythology. Aphrodite’s objects and large makeup cabinet in the background were still based on Ancient Cyprus, Egypt, Near East & Greece, as usual. (with her look were based on the crouching Aphrodite of Rhodes and the later Venus in a golden bikini in Pompeii.)

P/S: My head had been filled with Beyoncé & Rihanna songs for the past weeks after Rihanna’s Super Bowl performance, so I guess you know what vibes/energy I’m going for this couple LMAO! Still the fiercest laughter-loving goddess of love, war and beauty 🌸💘+ the ever-loving war god who wore his big heart and emotions as his armor. 🌹🗡️

[luimnigh]

...Poseidon had a daughter who thought the US Government manslaughtered her dad with the nuke tests on Bikini Atoll.

So she built cheap beachfront real estate for veterans and then murdered the veterans with repeated tidal waves.

Aphrodite, then working as the editor of a beauty magazine, stopped her.

In the next issue, Aphrodite fought Vampires.

[krinsbez]

Random Captain Marvel (meaning the OG, the Big Red Cheese that Billy Batson turns into, and is currently owned by DC) Headcanons and such.

-The most important thing to keep in mind about Mister Tawky Tawny is that while he is a kind, gentle, sweetheart who, if he had his druthers wouldn't hurt a fly (and was willing to forgive bigots who tried to burn his house down with him in it when they realized their error and reformed)...the fact remains that he is A BENGAL TIGER. He is 500lbs of terrifying apex predator. He is the result of millions of years of evolution to produce one of nature's most effective extant killing machines. And while he is somewhat embarrassed by it, it IS part of who he is and something he is at peace with.

-I prefer to imagine Magnifcus and Beautia being full siblings with Georgia and Thaddeus Junior. I also love the idea that their mother still looks like a bikini model after having four children, two of whom are adults.

-I go back and forth on the idea of Georgia having a complex about her looks.

-That said, I like the idea that Magnificus has a complex about his looks. Beautia looks like their mother. Georgia and Junior look like their father. He doesn't look like either. Also, while everyone notices Beuatia's, well Beauty and Georgia and Junior's intelligence, the trait of his that people are most likely to notice is that he is freakishly strong, which is not exactly something the Sivana family is inclined to value. The other is his being absurdly attractive, and true he shares this trait with Beautia, but given the patriarchal nature of society his experience is not the same; also she can talk to their mom when she gets upset at being reduced to being a pretty face, who's he going to talk to about other men getting defensive around him?

-Sidenote, despite this, it is important to me that Sivana is a good dad who loves all his children, even after Beautia and Magnifcus make Heel-Face Turns; he doesn't understand their choice to become tax-paying solid citizens when they could be helping him do Mad Science and take over the world, but he supports them anyways.

(sidenote, I have several vague mental images in my head of a story where Sivana goes on the warpath after Lobo or someone careless damages spacecraft Magnficus is on whilst fighting Superman, resulting in Mag being injured)

-Sidenote: also important, Captain Nazi isn't a Captain Marvel foe. He is a Captain Marvel Junior foe.

-I am 100% certain that Freddy is Jewish (despite having no basis for it and getting annoyed when people declare other characters to be Jewish with no basis), but it is very important to me that Captain Nazi had absolutely no awareness of this when he crippled Freddy and killed his grandfather.

-Bugs me that people don't use his name anymore. I understand why, but it still bugs me.

-...I don't have anything on Mary, other than that i don't like them making her not his long-lost twin sister. That's weird.

-Can never make up my mind if I prefer the Captain to be a separate entity from Billy, but I do love the idea that he looks like Billy's dad.

-Also don't have anything on Uncle Dudley or Hoppy, other than that I think they exist.

-Love that the age of the podcast means that Billy can be a famous radio personality again. It's actually even more plausible now!

-I fee like it's important to keep Billy's backstory of his parents being murdered, then his legal guardian stealing his inheritance and throwing him out on the street, and then him managing to survive on his own for an extended period (not sure how long, cuz I'm not sure how old he should be) is important. Cuz part of the reason he got picked is because he has EVERY reason to be jaded and cynical. He has extensive, intimate knowledge of cruelty, injustice, and man's inhumanity to man. But despite that his spirit, and his belief in his fellow man remains unbroken because he's also seen how people under duress can still maintain their dignity, how even in extremis many people will choose to do the right thing, how people will go out of their way try to reach out and help those who need it with no expectation of personal gain, etc. So yeah, he knows that people can be horrible monsters, but also that people can be heroes.

[seriousfic]

The Satan Sleuth by Michael Avallone

I'm two books into this series now. They have the advantage of being short, but also a number of flaws that detract from a reading experience that should be a pulpy good time.

The premise is sound: Playboy wunderkind Philip St. George has his wife killed in a Manson-style slaying. He instantly becomes a vigilante against Satanism. Although not literally Satanism, but more all varieties of seventies, In Search Of... weirdness. You know, ESP, Stonehenge, the Loch Ness Monster, the Bermuda Triangle. Anything that might catch Leonard Nimoy's attention, he's on it. His wife wasn't even killed by sincere Satanists, but more crazed hippies who say "Hail Satan!" in the same way Metallica might.

Amusingly, Philip is characterized somewhere between James Bond, Doc Savage, Batman, the Saint, and only a little bit the Executioner. The narrative constantly goes on about how he's a man among men, good at everything, physically perfect, his wife was the hottest thing on two legs, and so forth. By the end of the book, he's straight-up being compared to Jesus Christ. It's a hoot. Shades of Rick Dagless M.D. from Darkplace.

He starts calling himself the Dragon Killer, but then I guess he doesn't find that name dorky enough, because he switches to the Satan Sleuth. Yes, he actually calls himself that. And he doesn't actually believe in Satan, so it's a pretty far reach for a name that, y'know, blows.

These books are pretty thinly plotted. The killers in the first book turn out to be hiding out not far from Philip's mansion and they decide to head back to his mansion, allowing him to pick them off one by one. And in the second book, he's trying to find a werewolf, which amounts to stumbling across someone the werewolf has killed, then following the werewolf's tracks to its lair.

Well, I don't think anyone picks up a book called The Satan Sleuth expecting a Robert Ludlum novel. The real issue to me is the prose. As short as these books are, they feel incredibly padded out. Every sentence is textually underlined and circled, repeated ad nauseum, draining all the propulsion out of the storytelling. Avallone never uses one sentence when he can use three and a dozen adjectives. I'll quote an excerpt to show my point:

St. George had far more curiosity than the average man. He had had that long before the tragedy of Dorothea Daley, when he always wanted to know what was on the other side of the mountain—and now that he had dedicated himself to something greater than his own life and safety, that curiosity had to be satisfied. It must be satisfied, at all costs. Most especially if he wanted to end the Fletcherville reign of terror and bring to earth the monster stalking its terrain, terrorizing and killing its populace—as well as any drifters who wandered into the vicinity. All innocently to meet death. Man or monster—he would learn that, too. It was the work, the task, the career he had sworn himself to. Forever. Until his own ultimate end, whenever that might be. Philip St. George's coming of age had simply been a matter of the savage murder of his wife, Dorothea Daley St. George. His life had begun from that day forward—christened in blood. Which was why, he, one of the richest young men in the world, was now sitting on a rumpled, four-postered bed in a meaningless little town in the middle of nowhere, fiddling with a soaked-through black Bible, disguised as a dull-faced salesman, instead of yachting off Majorca or dawdling with bikini-bare, bronze-skinned beauties on the French Riviera. Or clipping coupons in the London Hilton. He had turned his back on that world. Without regret, without fanfare, without a look back to see if he had missed anything. Fletcherville had become important to him. The people of Fletcherville, specifically. People, particularly. All people. Mankind, everywhere. Vulnerable mankind, so often victimized by hocus-pocus and the blinding magic tricks of their own fears, obsessions, and prejudices. Prey to the voodoo, hoodoo, mumbo-jumbo of cant, strange beliefs, false doctrines, which supposedly led to another god, some other truer god. All the fake astrology, phony mystic, Satanism-inspired behavior that evoked lunatic cultism of all kinds and yet brought nothing but ultimate failure, hypocrisy, lies, and more often sickness, brain decay, and—death. All those who used the occult and mysticism as a personal source of profit and gain or simply for the sheer cruelty and viciousness of it—those were the enemies of Philip St. George, quondam playboy-adventurer-explorer. The man who had grown up, almost overnght, to become a crusader with his own very special crusade. Those who used the Devil to mask their enterprises would have to pay the piper for the dance they called for. And that piper was Philip St. George, The Satan Sleuth. What other kind of man would have waited three long, crawling hours for the wet pages of an ancient Bible to dry? To become of use.

Narration by Mojo Jojo.

This kind of navel-gazing goes on for pages on end, grinding the plot to a crawl and making me want to shake the author and go "GET ON WITH IT!" At one point, the big fighting climax pauses so that we can follow an FBI agent realizing the Satan Sleuth is real. It leeched a lot of the campy fun out of the reading for me.

Now, I used Kindle Unlimited to read these, so I feel I got my money's worth, but Amazon is charging an unbelievable five bucks a pop for these ebooks, each of which hover around 150 pages. For my money, not a good bargain.

[that-rackin-frackin-varmint]

#47 — 07/31/2022 6:29 PM

A Long thread commentary on Issue #21's: DEVIL WITH A BLUE DRESS ON

Gotta respect the noble intentions, regardless of how murderous.

Bugs can identify the roots of where a carrot was grown…? Also, a tad bit 90s with the gendered remarks there, Bugs.

Bugs doing the thing he did to Taz where he confused/scared the heck out of him with social rules. But here, it’s by overwhelming Mrs Taz with beauty standards. So yikes there.

Gotta respect Mrs Taz for being confident and comfortable with her appearance

Funny highlights. The bikini song reference, the little “poifect” from granny Bugs, and the “poivert!” accompanied by little carrot themed underwear.

Present day thoughts: My biggest takeways from looking back on this story and my initial reaction to it is how I failed to address Bugs' handlement of men and women antagonists. Since he regularly gaslights and utilises social conventions of the time to blindside the men antagonists, the use of body image manipulation for Mrs Taz was the logical equivalence, while being distasteful with modern sensibilities in mind. Bugs takes advantage of toxic masculinity, so he utilised toxic social standards for women and employed them on Mrs Taz. But since Mrs Taz wasn't even a victim of that insecurity, it felt like he was trying to instil it into her. Which was probably why I felt like Bugs was being kind of douchey here -- in the wrong flavour... Tl;dr: women have been the biggest victims of patriarchal standards. Toxic masculinity is a byproduct of the patriarchy. Bugs usually takes advantage of the latter, which feels justified since he feels like an outsider to human social conventions as a rabbit. But when applying his approach to women antagonists -- it feels a tad misogynistic because the power dynamic resembles a man taking advantage of the patriarchy to oppress the woman antagonist. I have thoughts on this subject, but I'm honestly not fit to fully unpack whether these perceptions are conducive to my own gender biases, or if these complicated feelings are a result of looney tunes' dated status when it comes to its limited character depictions of women. I would love to give some proper time to think about it though...

[landslided]

your humble anon back to praise you for those casting choices!! rebecca demornay the absolute beauty!! and phoebe cates is so so perfect! please know i am cheering you on from the sidelines waiting to give you the kudos you so rightfully deserve. (and if you feel like sharing headcanons, i would love to hear about them! also, you mentioned being inspired by hacks so is miguel the ava to johnny's deborah? or is he just the catalyst to johnny's reemerging career? it's all so interesting however i can be patient i promise!!)

anoooon, thank you so much you are making my absolute DAY!! my response is super long so i’ll put it under a cut.

i am not very far in hacks so as of right now ava and deborah’s relationship is… tumultuous to say the least. i will admit, yes, miguel would be johnny’s ava in this context. they don’t have the same arc at all or the same bond but miguel is sort of this door for johnny into the modern world and all it includes.

in my mind, after his fall from grace (and i will get into that), johnny becomes a bit of a recluse. she moves from the heart of LA to a much more secluded place where she does what canon johnny does at the start of cobra kai, she works for a fixing company and makes very little money doing gigs. she doesn’t live from acting at all, she barely gets royalties and she doesn’t have ANY contact with her old friends and costars. miguel moves in her building where she has never been recognized before. in opposition to the face claims i gave, this johnny has gotten a bit more masc and butch in her older age and people wouldn’t immediately associate her now to the image of America’s Sweetheart Joanna Lawrence who was once in every magazine and was a double sided poster (on one side, johnny with her teased to hell blond hair, posing in roller skates with neon shorts and a shirt that says LOS ANGELES, on the other side, johnny at the beach, playing volleyball in a red bikini. she was everyone’s crush, she was THE sitcom it girl) but miguel does recognise her because he and rosa watch a lot of reruns from the 80´s comedy show she and danielle were in and he tries to befriend her for an autograph.

in doing so, miguel explains to johnny that a lot of people would pay a nice amount of money for autographs, for interviews, anything from this actress that disappeared from the public’s eye. the show back then was extremely popular and the 80´s nostalgia has hit america. johnny, for money but also to prove herself she can be more than what the world has told her, tries to reboot the show as an actress and writer (with miguel’s help) and that is when her path crosses danielle’s once again.

as for johnny’s downfall, there were rumors of alcohol (true), drugs (true), homosexuality (true) and her sleeping her way to the top (untrue and that’s why she was blacklisted for so long). she was arrested at 25 years old for crashing her car inside her manager’s house. it was seen as a coke fuelled accident (but in truth, johnny might have tried to murder kreese) and it completely burned her reputation.

miguel, robby and sam are all around 21/22 here because i admit getting a bit tired of writing high school experiences and also because i love the idea of johnny with a team of writers who are all so young and so social media trained that they have to block her out of twitter so she doesn’t get canceled before she can get back into the spotlight. aisha and tory will also make an appearance (and maybe the binary brothers as well).

danielle, as stated in my first post, is an A list celebrity (think kind of meryl streep ish in terms of legend BUT she hasn’t been filming in a long while). since miyagi’s death, danielle has had a hard time getting back onto the saddle of acting, motherhood is also extremely hard when you’re stuck in an heterosexual marriage as a lesbian, your daughter has fallen into some bad crowds and your son would sell pictures of you to TMZ for fortnite skins if you weren’t already paying for everything. she has been thinking of directing more and more (she has refused to do too much to her face and body apart from some hair dyes and a little botox which means that even if she did want to film, she won’t find a good role) and she has the ambition of maybe rebooting this 80´s comedy show she was once a part of but as a lead and director this time so when she learns that johnny is already on the case, she loses her mind a little.

i feel like im already giving quite a bit away here but im actually very excited to get into writing this!!!

thank you again, anon!!! you’re loooovely