#but i dont know i dont think i was ever allowed to watch the kinda shows that would be set in a school

[triglycercule]

"finally, mine. heh, and it looks better than both of yours."

"uhhh, mine and dust's are both in the same style, same everything. like, there's not even that much different about yours, horror."

"yeah, but it's me."

"i hope an alternate version of you gets severely mischaracterized irreparably."

"... damn."

💜/💙/❤️

[mwagneto]

as a child i was always so mad we didn't have a pool. coz all the kids in every show and movie i watched always had pools. and it's like, we have a garden, why don't we have a pool like all the children on tv and thus all the children in real life must do (nevermind that i hadn't and still to this day haven't met anyone who has a pool)??? then i grew up and realised it's coz the people in my tv all lived in the united states of america and we lived in eastern europe

[sluckythewizard]

BUT IM NOT A WRITER. something strange possessed me to write my first proper fanfic in maybe a decade. be niceys to me but also grill me so i can get stronger. this one is a stupidly self indulgent bit between Soda and Emizel, a day or so after emizel was sired. CW for gore descriptions, but thats about it i think. image below is a snippet of the start. the rest of the whole dang thing will be under the cut. ive never posted fanfic ever in my life. read my tags for secret behind da scenes commentary

"Oh shit… I think hes dead…" It was another night, another patrol, another fight, and another win, for Emizel and Soda.

Under moonlight, under street light, under interwoven wires above, the two stood here in a quiet and damp alleyway. The air was drenched with the smell of a previous rain, and the puddles of said storm remain huddled in corners and pot holes.

One splashed as soda found himself stepping forwards into one. The residual adrenaline of the fight had left his body shaking, his heart still pounding, his wounds still throbbing. They had still won; or more-so, Emizel had won. A particularly nasty blow to the side had Soda reduced to the side lines for most of the fight, left to watch as his newly vampiric comrade had absolutely eviscerated the competition.

Emizel had only been turned a day ago, but it was impossible not to notice how it had changed him. He already acted so goddamn confident, so on top of the world, and this newfound power, newfound speed and strength, only built upon his insane ego.

The Fangs that they encountered here on this night stood no fucking chance. Emizel was too quick, too strong, and he easily chased off the rivals. It was only now, as the final unfortunate opponent had turned to flee, a clean clock in the jaw sent the human tumbling to the ground with a dull thump, and it did not move afterward.

Soda shifts his shoe out of the puddle, the cold seeping into his sock being one of the few things keeping his mind in his body in the moment. Is the guy breathing?

A low laugh bleeds from Emizel as he stretches his arms, licking his sharpened teeth as he stares off in the direction the remaining Fangs went. Soda knew that look on his face, the look of a tiger pondering on its next kill, he knew well that Emizel wanted to chase them.

But the guy on the ground.. It was one punch to the face, and the wicked crack sound that came from it had planted a seeding dread within Sodas chest.

As he steps forward, around the puddle, the resulting sound made Emizels attention click back over to Soda, the snap of his gaze making Soda flinch.

The two lock eyes, and Soda weakly gestures to the limp body on the floor. "The uh.. I think.. Is that guy dead?" He finally asks, having a hard time keeping contact with Emizels intensely red eyes.

Emizel turns his attention to said body, tilting his head as he goes to kick at the thing, turning it over. "Man no way hes dead, I punched him once." He mutters.

"Well, yeah, but his head almost twisted all the way around when you did.." Soda steps up to stand beside Emizel, the two boys standing with their hands in their pockets, down at this unfortunate, limp body.

"Should we hide it?" Soda asks, glancing back over at Emizel, who had.. An odd look on his face. He was clearly pondering something, but Soda could only guess whatever was going on in that brilliant head of his. He knew and trusted that Emizel was smart. If anyone could figure out what to do about this, it would be him.

But the lack of an answer had anxiety chewing at the back of Sodas rib cage, and after a second, he speaks up again, compelled to fill what he perceived as a tense silence. "Like.. I dunno, I've never uh... killed a guy..." He shrugs, prompting Emizel to let out a big sigh.

"He's not dead man, just out fuckin cold." Emizel kneels down next to the body, putting an ear up to its chest, and pondering on that for a moment. An uncertainty twists his expression, as he decides to instead place a hand on the victims throat, checking for a pulse. A moment passes, and seemingly finding nothing, he pulls back.

"Uh... Okay, so he might be dead."

Something about the confirmation from Emizel made a shiver run up Sodas spine. That, or maybe it was just the breeze agitating the cold water in his shoe.

"Huh… Damn.." Was all that Soda could really get to leave his mouth. Which was hardly a splash compared to the torrent that was slowly churning in his head. They just killed a guy. Or, Emizel just killed a guy. And it was so easy. They had to hide the body now, right? That was the usual progression here? Getting caught for murder was way more extreme than getting caught for breaking mailboxes with soda cans. It was so, so disturbingly easy. It really was just one punch. It's not like the Fangs are weak by any means, so just one punch? And this guy is dead? Forever?

Or, perhaps by human means, their rivals were fairly tough. But Emizel was on a whole other level. No mortal could stand up to him now...

"Hey, are you okay?"

The question had pulled Soda back from his head, his gaze flicking back over to Emizel, who was looking up at him with those eerie, piercing red eyes. Soda felt another shiver.

"Uh, ieah man, I'm all good." Soda nods, swallowing down whatever anxiety was bubbling up in his throat.

But Emizel didn't seem satisfied by his answer, standing back up and staring down his human comrade. Soda couldn't meet his eyes, his gaze instead traveling downward, and pausing on Emizels red, cut-up shirt. There was something off about the color, the way it seemed darker in some spots, brighter in others.. Wait, wasn't Emizel wearing a white shirt before all this?

The vampire boy seems to pick up on Sodas expression, following his eyes down to his shirt. "Oh, yeah! While you were on the floor, the knife guy got me a little" He says, a stupidly simple smile on his face. Soda was about to let out a laugh at how unbothered his friend seemed by it, but it gets caught in his throat when Emizel goes to pull his shirt up.

The sound of the bloodied fabric peeling away from skin made Sodas own skin crawl, but that wasn't nearly as bad as the sight of the intense gash running from his collar bone, down to his stomach.

"Oh, fuck dude!" Soda gasps, but Emizel laughs it off. Even despite knowing Emizel well, Soda was still surprised by just how much Emizel could shrug off. "Shit, doesn't that hurt, dude?"

"Oh yeah this fucking hurts!" he says with a laugh, his smile big and toothy and proud as he presents this egregious wound. Swollen and angry, pulsing with a slow heartbeat, and still oozing with thick, dark blood.

The sight of the split flesh, and the glints of bone beneath the dark, dark red all tugged at Sodas gag reflex, and yet he couldn't pull his eyes away. So Emizel's just been walking and talking so normally this whole time with his chest just cleaved wide open? Soda felt just as impressed as he felt horrified.

It wasn't until Emizel reaches down to poke at the abhorrent wound that Soda snaps out of it. Watching his friend press his fingers into the bloodied flesh, and slowly pulling it apart, allowing more ichor to seep from the gash, it was too much to watch at this point.

Soda reaches up to put a hand on Emizels wrist, the vampire boy stopping, and looking up at his friend.

Soda found himself freezing again when he locks eyes with Emizel. He was going to say something now, right? "U-uhm.." Is all he really chokes out, giving Emizels wrist a gentle tug. "D-do you. Uh. I suppose a hospital Isn't a place you can go anymore..?"

Emizel just smirks at that, letting Soda pull his hand away from the wound. "Oh, yeah no, but it's fine. I mean, I don't think it's gonna kill me" He shrugs. It was so, so impressive just how unphased Emizel was by all this. Fuck he's actually so cool.

"Well yeah man but it's like, still a bleeding hole. Like you're soaked in blood dude, I'm pretty sure that even a vampire needs that stuff on like, the inside." Soda rubs the back of his head, still unnerved by the sight of it all. "Vampires have like, super healing, don't they?"

"Oh yeah like, regeneration powers. I know I heal faster sometimes but I dunno how to just, activate it on command.." Emizel hums, his eyes narrowing down at his own injury, as if trying to will it into mending. Soda looks away, unable to watch that vile gash ooze any longer.

"I dunno man, how do they do it in like, video games?" Soda tosses the question out, trying to click together some sort of solution in his own head.

"Uhhh.. Huh, video games.." Emizel repeats to himself, chewing on the thought while idly poking at the laceration; until an idea audibly flickers to life in his head. "Oh, I just gotta refill my blood meter. Or whatever."

"Oooh yeah, blood meter!" Soda perks up, "Of course, see this is why you're the brains, man" Soda smiles, glancing back over to his cool friend, but immediately needing to look away again when the sight of that egregious gash tugs bile back into his throat.

While Soda averts his eyes, Emizels eyes wander back over to the body, and that classic 'Emizel has a bad idea' smile creeps across his face.

"Well, if this guys dead, I'm sure he's not gonna need all that blood.." He grins, kneeling down next to the body again.

The word 'wait' had hardly gotten the chance to crawl from Sodas mouth, before Emizel lifts up the arm of the unfortunate body, pulling the sleeve back, and immediately sinking his teeth into the exposed wrist.

The sound and the sight of blood gushing around Emizels teeth made Soda cringe, his hand impulsively coming up to aide his own wrist. An empathetic phantom pain made his wrist ache, his imagination simulating the feeling of shark teeth cutting into skin, sinking deep into the flesh, and clacking against bone. That was a lot of blood, that was streaming down the arm of this fodder.

A low growl bleeds from Emizel as he adjusts his teeth, cutting into more flesh, opening the wound further, and allowing a pulsing torrent of red to stream down his chin, onto his coat. It was an annoying thing, to clean blood out of clothing. Most of the Demons deemed it easier to just let the stains remain. But the night that Emizels throat was torn open, and liters upon liters were granted freedom from his human form, the unbelievable mess had practically changed half the color of Emizels iconic coat.

That was the first time Soda had ever seen that much blood from one person. And well. This would probably be the second.

The sight was unnerving, but it was impossible to look away. The alley was quiet, save for the distant bustle of a distant city, which made the noisy squish and squelch of teeth gnawing on flesh all the more apparent and nauseating.

Emizel had become a monster for sure, and watching it feed on something was… thrilling, in a way. It reminded Soda of feeding a pet spider, or lizard. A mouse for a snake.

It's a heavy thing to witness, the end of a human life. The fear of death is a primal thing, and Soda was no different from any other living thing. He figured everyone else feared death just as much as he does. Well, maybe except for Emizel, of course.

It made sense. Emizel was such a cocky and noisy kind of guy, but hes always had the power to back it up. Even when he lost, or seemed at his lowest, Soda still saw this sort of fire in him, one that Soda admired.

Of course Emizel would be the one to become something like a vampire. Something that Soda had always figured was just a fantasy creature thing. He wondered; if vampires were real, what else was real? Werewolves? Zombies? Unicorns? Are there real demons? Like from hell? Is hell real? Is he going to hell?

The sudden ttteeeeaaaaarrrr of flesh rips soda from his wandering thoughts. Emizel was tugging his head away from the arm of his kill, his teeth clamped down into the chewed meat, and pulling it apart. Soda had seldom seen so much of the inside of a human arm, and the sight of spilling threads and squirming veins was hardly something he ever wanted to stomach again.

"Oh fuck, dude, hey-" Soda steps forward, raising a hand, but the way Emizel snaps his head back over to him, twisting to an unnatural degree, Soda cant help jolting back.

Reddened teeth glint menacingly in the low light, a threatening growl thundering from its clenched, dripping jaws. Emizels eyes were focused, yet wild, glowing with whatever light they could reflect.

Sodas eyes were wide, and his body was frozen in the thick, electric tension within the air. It was like staring down an angry dog.. Suddenly a light bulb in his head flickers to life. It was kind of like an angry dog, right? One hunched over a meal it didn't want to give up. Memories of old encounters and unfortunate dog bites resurface in Sodas head, and with that experience, and with those lessons learned, he gathers the courage to react.

He shuts his eyes, keeping them closed for a few seconds, as he slowly pulls back his arm, and slowly steps back. It was an eye contact thing, wasn't it? Eye contact makes dogs angry, right? That was how you dealt with an angry dog? As he pulls back, and takes in a breath for composure, he finally dares to peek at the angry vampire before him again.

Its snarling had died down, but its eyes were still trained intently on Soda. After a tense, and agonizingly, slow pause... It blinks back, lowering its head back down to its meal, but keeping its anxious stare on this potential threat.

A relieved sigh falls from soda as the tension finally melts. He didnt realize he was holding in so much of his breath. "O-okay, man.. It's yours, you uh.. Earned it.." Soda mutters, stepping back further, until he was standing in a sufficiently dry enough space to sit down in. Now that he wasn't standing, he was finally taking into mind just how much his hands were shaking.

It's odd. Soda couldn't really describe this feeling thrumming in his chest as something like fear.. Nausea? For sure. Disturbed and rattled? Oh absolutely. This was certainly a sight he would have a hard time scrubbing from his eyelids when he sleeps tonight. But he wasn't scared. The memory of the night that Emizel was sired still coated the inside of his mind like an unwashable film. Even in that moment, when the unnatural teeth from the unnatural maw of an unnatural thing hovered over his throat, he couldn't say with confidence that he was scared.

Emizel really is his best friend in the world. And he knows with his whole heart that Emizel feels the same. He knew and trusted that his best friend would never hurt him. Not too badly at least. He loves Emizel, and would give anything to support him.

Like a mouse to a snake.

This really is an incredible power that his comrade had come across, and Soda especially felt a sort of pride in his friend. He felt it was worth it to help him feed it.

The bile in his throat had made its point, and Soda agreed, that watching someone die, and get torn apart and drained might be too much for him. Despite how much he hated the Fangs, the end of any human life seemed like such a jarring thing. To have such an intense fear finally get confronted. Would he go to hell?

Maybe he couldn't just feed people to his friend. So an alternative could be donated blood, right? Soda wouldn't mind giving up something like blood. His body makes it for free, after all. Maybe some other Demons would agree to give up some blood too. But they shouldn't have to take on such a burden. Soda wouldn't mind being the only one. The only one. The only one.

His hand comes up to rub at his neck, as his imagination conjures up what it might feel like to have teeth sink into his flesh. He's been stabbed before, is that sort of what it would feel like? Would he have to get stitches? He didn't really want to get stitches, so maybe there could be a more effective way to get the blood out of him. And there was so much vital stuff in his neck too. There's' a vein that's safe to cut into somewhere, right? He would have to look that up later.

A STARTLING RINGING;

Splits the moment,

Prompting both Soda and Emizel to jolt in shock,

As the phone in Emizels pocket rings away.

Acting as if nothing abnormal had taken place, Emizel pulls out his phone, and answers it.

"Heyy, Johnny! Yeah we chased em off, I don't think those bastards will be infesting this street again anytime soon. Yeah, ieah we'll be heading back soon. Oh fuck yeah dude, save us some!"

Emizel covers the speaker of his Nokia, turning back to Soda with a big smile on his violently bloodied face. "They got some pizza waiting for us back home, dude!" he whispers out to him.

Soda does his best to crack a smile, and to suppress the look of unease that probably stained his face, as he stares at the literal murder scene that's been splattered about in front of him.

"Oh, yeah, hell yeah man.." He swallows down the bile again. "What kind of uh.. Soda did they get?"

Emizel ponders that, before turning back to the phone to ask Sodas question.

"Sprite and a big pack of that one strawberry mountain dew" Emizel tosses the answer back over to Soda, who gives a nod, and thumbs up.

Mountain dew is so neat, Soda really liked all the wacky flavors those guys come up with. The thought of going home and opening a can of soda was certainly a comfort. After witnessing all this blood and gore and viscera, Soda absolutely needed to get back home and get a nice cold glass of something bright red .

As Sodas mind wanders off to soda, Emizel wraps up the conversation on the phone, before hanging up, and standing up.

The movement had pulled Sodas mind back into the moment, enough for him to timidly voice a concern he's had since the start of this debacle.

"Uh, hey, so.. The body, should we… Uh.." He gestures vaguely to it, and Emizel grants it a nonchalant glance.

"Eh, I can toss it into a dumpster or something, I dunno. I'm sure its fine. I'll handle it."

The vampire boy goes to pick up the corpse, the wound in its mangled arm no longer even dripping with blood, the flesh pale from the absolute absence of red in its veins.

"Go ahead and meet me by that one mailbox, the one with the bullet hole in it." Emizel casually instructs, tossing the drained body over his shoulder. "I'll catch up."

"Uh, yeah, okay.." Soda musters up a nod, and the strength to rise back up to his feet, wincing as that bruise on his side makes itself loudly known again. He still felt anxious, but even despite it all, he knew he could trust Emizel to take care of things. He always does. "Just stay safe man, I'll see you there." Soda assures with a smile, and Emizel matches it, tossing him a wink. And then suddenly- -He's gone! If Soda had blinked he would've missed it, but he was fortunate enough to just barely catch the glimpse of Emizel darting off at an inhuman speed, probably looking for a place to dump the body. Right, he would take care of it. Emizel always makes sure his crew is taken care of. Well... Guess all that's left for Soda is for him to walk back to that meeting spot. He looks around the alley for a moment, taking in the sight of that enormous pool of blood in the middle of the concrete. Or whatever the floor of this alley is made from. He ponders on the present moment a little longer than he meant to, the shock of it all leaving him aimless for just a few, soothing moments of just, decompression. The night is quiet, vast, and cold, but the stresses of just the past 5 hours had left his body radiating with fiery aches and pains, so the chill of the occasional clawing breeze was welcomed. Except for when said breeze agitated the cold water still soaked into his sock. He should step in another puddle on his way back to even it out. The smell of rain still rested heavy in the air, heralding another storm on the horizon. There was that, and then, well, there was also the blood. The stench of it felt far too intense to just ignore it, the metallic miasma making itself maliciously unmistakable. Maybe the impending storm will wash this mess away... He looked forward to putting this unfortunate night behind him. With one last rattled, but deep breath, he stuffs his hands in his pockets, and turns away, strolling back over to the mailbox that Emizel had described.

He couldn't wait to get home and drink some soda with his friends.

[ghoul--doodle]

When my interest shifts from one to another I don’t start disliking/hating the old one

It just slips into being dormant until something inevitably triggers monkey brain about it again

[nightmare-niko]

Pretty When You Cry [Father Charlie Mayhew x reader]

pt. 2

Word Count: 1916

Warnings: manhandling, kinda munch! Charlie, one slap, mean! Dom Charlie, blasphemy (they fuck in the church😬)

A/N: not my gifs! I have the originals reblogged on my page😘 this was actually already being written and then I got an anon request for basically exactly what I was already writing!! Hope ya like it hehe 🙃 i also dont really ever write like this kind of smut so i hope i did good!!

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

You weren't a religious person by any means. But staying the night at your parents had you up early, trying to find the most church-appropriate outfit. of course, your parents failed to tell you that they were planning on bringing you along to church. Your skirt was a bit too short. But it is not like you had room to complain with such short notice!

You remember going to high school with Father Charlie— or as you knew him Charlie. The two of you didn't run with the same crowds-- but you knew each other.

Now, here you were. Paying no attention to the words coming from his mouth and all attention to how good he looked. Damn-- maybe you should have shot your shot years ago when he was a personal trainer.

As you watched him at the head of the room, you allowed your mind to wander.

One extremely long and boring sermon later, you stand awkwardly behind your parents as they talk to what Seems like every member of the church. God how you regret agreeing to come-- It's not like you knew anyone here- none of your friends went to church. But here you were, being judged by middle-aged churchgoers. How fun.

The sound of your name being called catches your attention.

You whip your head around to the noise, "Father Charlie!" The name is unnatural as it falls from your lips. You quickly look at your parents- too engrossed in a conversation. “It's been a while!" You awkwardly step closer to the man.

He hums, "It has been, hasn't it? The first time in the church as well.”

“Well, you know...” You gesture back to your parents.

"I'm assuming this wasn't on your schedule.” He looks you up and down, “Given your attire.”

You gasp sharply, heat rising to your face as you pathetically try to pull your skirt down. "I-uh,” you try to think of an excuse, "I didn't pack any pants..." You lie-- lying in a church is one thing but to the priest?

If Charlie sensed your lie he didn't comment on it. "Well, I hope you enjoyed today's sermon.”

"I did!" You lie again, a little too enthusiastically.

Charlie narrows his eyes at you, "You weren't paying attention, were you?" His voice is playful.

"No, I was not," You quickly confess.

He laughs, you have to fight to not stare shamefully at his beautiful face for too long. "That's odd— because when I looked at you, you looked very focused," He teases.

“I wasn't paying attention to your voice. Just your fa-" you stop in your tracks. Utterly petrified at the situation you have just found yourself in. His eyebrows raise in surprise at your slip-up. “I mean I didn't even know that you could see me in that crowd-- I-I- just figured that-”

“That every time we locked eyes it wasn't on purpose?” he finishes your thought.

You nod pathetically, your shoes suddenly extremely interesting.

Charlie takes a step towards you, the proximity making you look up at the man. Has he always been that tall? "I want you to go into my office and wait for me.” His voice is a seductive tone you have never heard him use before. It sends a shiver down your spine.

“But what about my parents?” you ask, voice just above a whisper.

“Dont worry about them,” he assures before walking away. Leaving you standing alone— stunned.

To say you were terrified was an understatement. Sure, you weren't in any danger-- at least you didn't think so. What exactly had you gotten yourself into? Here you sat, in a priest's office. Surrounded by biblical Imagery. And you were 99% Sure you were soaked through your cotton panties, you didn't care. No one but you was going to know... right?

Five minutes turned to ten. You sat anxiously in the chair across from Charlie's desk. A clock on the wall ticked away obnoxiously. You had figured when you walked in it would take him a while for him to return. how long should you wait? Has he forgotten that you were sitting in his office, impatiently waiting? You didn't dare to snoop, or even scroll on your phone. Charlie said to wait for him, and that's what you would do.

For thirty minutes you're alone in that office. you straighten your posture when you hear the clicks of Charlie’s boots nearing. The sound of the door opening makes you flinch pathetically. You don't dare turn around. Eyes glued on the desk in front of you.

Charlie is silent as he moves around behind you. Your pulse pounds in your throat at the anticipation.

“You seem nervous.” You tense at his voice, still refusing to turn around and face the man.

You try to swallow the lump in your throat, “I am nervous, Father.” You press your thighs together in an atempt to find some sort of relief to your throbbing center.

He groans quietly from behind you, “look at me.”

Like a magnet your head whips around to look at the man. His sharp gaze made your breath hitch. You felt hazy as he stepped towards you. Your eyes locked on his as he comes to stand right in front of you. Your breath quickens when he captures your chin in between his thumb and pointer finger.

Charlies predatory gaze on you deepens, his lips curling into a smirk, "you--" he rubs the lipstick on your mouth, smudging it. "Are such a pretty mess for me, darling.”

You bat your eyelashes up at him, “I don't know what you mean, Father.”

He grips the sides of your face harshly, cheeks smushing together into a pout. “Showing up to my church dressed like a slut—” he spits, “shamlessly eyefucking me the whole time like you were the only one in the room.”

You whimper at his words— he was right of course. But that didn't stop your face from flushing in embarrassment.

“Now look at you. Slut. Sitting before me like a doe as if you didn’t wait in my office hoping I would come in here and fuck you like the whore that you are.”

You moan shamelessly when he lets go of your face, while your whole body was screaming at you to submit to the man before you. You could help but push his buttons just a little bit further.

“You know for a priest you sure do have a filthy mouth—” His eyes narrow on you as you speak. “im such a slut but here you are hard in your pants over a damn mini skirt.” If looks could kill, you’d surely be dead. You needed more.

You open your mouth to speak again. But before you could even get a sound out, Charlie strikes his large hand across your cheek. You moan again, “fuck!”

Wordlessly, he turns to the desk before you. You watch curiously as he haphazardly pushes the clutter on his desk onto the floor. Your hands tremble in anticipation as you watch him bound towards you. He effortlessly picks you up from the chair you sat on, as if a reflex you cross you’d ankles behind his back as his hands greedily grip your thighs and ass.

He gently places you on the recently cleared off desk. A stark contrast to the way he effortlessly hoisted you from your seat. You attempt to grind down in the wooden desk under you for some kind of stimulation, but Charlie’s grip stops you.

“So impatient,” he purrs. He captures your lips in a quick, gentle kiss. You whine at the loss of him, but you don’t have to worry for long as his hands greedily grasps at your skirt, tearing at your legs. He leaves you with one last opened mouth kiss as he begins to trail wet kisses down your neck.

He mumbles something you can’t quite hear. But you don’t really care when he sinks to his knees, his strong hands prying your legs open. He trails more kisses to your inner thigh all the way up to your core. He licks a stripe over your soaked through panties, your legs try to close but his hands are holding your thighs open. His eyes lock on yours as he pulls them down your legs, the speed agonizing as you whimper. In a second his lips are back on you, his wet kisses up your thighs driving you mad.

“Charlie,” You thread your hand through his hair as he bites and licks at your heat like a starved man.

He mumbles a quick “no,” as he pulls away from you. His chin slicked and shiny from you. The scene is pornographic, if you had a camera you’d take a picture. He fumbles with his belt buckle and throws it to the side, the metal clanking to the floor loudly. You shamelessly stare as he stands back up, towering over you again he gets close enough that you feel his breath on your face.

“Look at you,” he tuts. You lurch forward��� pulling him into a greedy, filthy kiss. When he moans into your mouth it’s the most heavenly sound you’ve ever heard. Pushing you back into the desk, once again he’s muttering something, a prayer. You paw at his zipper and he lazily watches you has you pull out his angry cock.

“Please?” You beg, tears welling up in your eyes from sheer sexual frustration.

“Since you asked so nicely~” he steals a quick kiss before dragging his leaking tip through your folds.

He pushes into you fully in one smooth motion. Your back arches up off of the desk, wood painfully digging into your spine. You didn’t care— all you cared about was him.

Fast sharp deep thrusts have you screaming as the sounds of skin ring throughout the office. You curse- throwing your arms over your head. Charlie’s mouth gaping while he groans, pressing and thrusting himself into you.

"Just, like that, oh.. god." You wail as he slams himself into your g spot repeatedly.

Charlie greedily paws at your clothed breasts as his hips slap into yours. You clench around him— you can already feel your orgasm building from the rough pace set. Charlie’s hips stutter from your action and you clench again. A low groan leaves his beautifully shaped lips as he digs his fingers into your hips.

You moan— you try to form words but Charlie feels so good inside of you that your brain feels like mush. He seems to be able to tell your close however by the way his thumb reaches down to rub sloppy circles onto your clit.

Your vision turns white as you come undone. Your nails dig into the desk below you as Charlie chases his own release. He leans down, pressing kisses into your cheeks and necks, unlike the kisses before; these are gentle and caring. You hiss when he pulls out of you, missing the feeling of him inside you immediately.

“How much convincing will it take for you to come to next weeks service?” He breathily laughs against the side of your face.

“If it’s gonna end like this again— none at all.”

♡︎༻🌸༺♡︎

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[paradiseprincesss]

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗ 𝑻𝑶𝑶 𝑪𝑳𝑶𝑺𝑬 | Cillian Murphy

𝑁𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠 — Are y'all sick of my "ushy gushy" smut yet? LOL. Also ya'll fw this new layout? I fear it's kinda cute and slay...

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦 — Cillian's wife and kids are out of town, and your parents are in Italy for the next month, leaving you home alone. What's the harm in getting close and spending some time with your slightly awkward, DILF neighbour?

𝑊𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝐶𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡 — 3.3k

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺 -> 18+ ONLY smut, age gap (unspecified but reader is in college, Cillian is late 40's), cheating on both ends lol, Cillian is married with kids but reader dont give a fuck like ok baddie

𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Cillian watched you in your window from his window, in his home, across from yours. Curiosity gets the best of everyone; sometimes you just wonder what your neighbours get up to. 

That’s what Cillian was doing — he was just curious about what the young, beautiful, sweet college student next door was up to. His house faced yours, which meant if you left your curtains open, he could see into your home…but in the year you’ve lived across from him, it’s not like he’d ever seen you do anything except the most mundane things. 

Flipping through the pages of your textbook and taking notes, calling your friends on the phone and giggling at something they said, posing adorably for some selfies in your kitchen to send to god knows who or post to god knows where. He didn’t understand it, but it was cute, reminding him of the years so far behind him now. 

It was innocent…until it wasn’t. 

You moved from your hometown with your parents to Dublin, Ireland a year ago, leaving your life behind and attending college here instead. Cillian talked quite a bit with your parents, hence the whole “neighbours” thing, but he always found you to be sweet…and his wife and kids seemed to think so too.

Last week, you’d mentioned to his wife that your parents were going to Italy for the next month to travel, and he couldn’t help but find himself wondering what you’d do when you were home alone. Probably studying, she seems pretty invested in school, he thought. 

It was almost time for his kids to go to sleep, and he could hear his wife talking to them as she got them ready for bed, but he stood in his living room and watched you through your bedroom window. You were giggling on the phone with who he assumed were your friends, and he sighed to himself as he saw your youthful smile. He was reminiscent of his younger years as he watched you.

He observed as you threw your phone down for a second on your bed, before getting up and— 

His jaw went slack as he did a double take. You casually started to take your clothes off and tossed them onto the floor of your bedroom, but that’s not what caused him to lose his composure. 

His eyes widened and his heart rate accelerated as his blue eyes wandered all over your figure, watching you from the window and unable to look away as he took in the lacy, intricate and extremely sexy lingerie you were wearing under that baggy sweater you had on not even a minute ago. 

The see-through lace hugged your body beautifully, and the material allowed him to see your perky breasts through the sheerness of it. He almost choked when you bent over to grab your phone from your bed again, as the lingerie left pretty much nothing to the imagination. 

“Fuck,” he mumbled aloud to himself, feeling his cock starting to strain against his pants. This was wrong. Oh, it was so wrong — but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. 

He watched with a clear hard-on now as you held your phone up, giggling to yourself as you started to pose and take pictures in the lingerie, presumably sending them to some very lucky guy. Who were you sending them to? Who was getting to see your body up close like that? Who—

“Honey?” His wife’s voice cut through his thoughts, and he turned around as she came into the kitchen. He leaned against the island in the middle of his kitchen to hide how hard he was. God bless this kitchen counter, he thought. “What are you looking at? I kept calling you upstairs.” 

“Right, erm,” he coughed, clearing his throat and turning around to your window to see you were no longer in your room. It was just an empty, dimly lit bedroom in his view now. “Nothing. Thought I saw a deer or somethin’ in the yard.” 

His wife hummed in acknowledgment, clearly unaware that he was just basically participating in some form of voyeurism with the girl next door who was young enough to be his daughter.

“Don’t forget to drop the dog off next door tomorrow at noon,” his wife reminded him, and Cillian’s breath hitched at the reminder.

Fuck. He forgot that his wife and kids were going to visit his wife’s side of the family for the week. He couldn’t go due to a conflict in his work schedule, but he was going to drive them there and pick them up the following week. He also forgot that his wife asked you to watch Scout, the dog, for the day while he drove them up there. 

“Cillian?” His wife asked as she looked at him with a raised brow. “Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, I heard you,” he said as he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ll bring Scout over at noon tomorrow.” 

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

You’d just tossed on your most cozy oversized sweater and some short-shorts as you headed downstairs, hearing knocking at your front door. As you swung the front door open, you saw Cillian standing there with Scout, who started to wag his tail happily. 

“Hey,” you smiled at him before you started petting Scout. “And hello to you too, Scout!” 

As you took the leash from Cillian, he looked flustered as he swallowed, giving you a small smile. “Thank you again for watching him.” 

“Oh, it’s really no issue!” You assured him with a friendly smile. “I’m home all day studying anyways, and my parents are out of town for the next month. I could use the company — plus, me and Scout are best buds anyways.”

Scout barked happily, and you continued to give him a few more pats. Cillian couldn’t help but let his thoughts wander back to last night; the image of you in your sexy, lace lingerie was still fresh in his mind. He cleared his throat, “Well, I’ll come and swing by around 6 to pick him up. Not too late, is it?”

“Gosh, not at all,” you giggled, letting Scout roam through your home as you started to close the door slightly. “I’ll be up late studying so…” 

“Thanks again,” Cillian said, waving goodbye to you as you shut the door softly.

Later on that day, once Cillian returned home after dropping his wife and kids off at his mother-in-law's house, he knocked on your front door once more to pick Scout up. 

You opened the door and smiled sweetly as soon as you saw him, “Hi, Cillian! How was the drive?” Your voice gave him butterflies, and he knew it was wrong, but after seeing you and what you got up to after dark, he couldn’t help it. 

“Ah, it was good — boring,” he joked, his smooth, Irish accent making you blush a bit as you handed him Scout’s leash, to which he handed you something as well. 

He handed you an iced coffee with a warm smile, “Here — just a little thank you for watching Scout. I remember you saying iced coffee was your favourite a while back, plus you mentioned you’d be studying all night…” 

“You didn’t have to do that!” You said sweetly, returning his warm smile, and taking the coffee from him. “But thank you, I could definitely use the caffeine.” 

You waved him off as he left with Scout and closed the front door behind you. As you got back to your kitchen, you felt yourself getting giddy for some reason after your interaction with him, though you tried to push it aside. He was just your much older, super attractive, neighbour — oh, and he was married with kids. 

You shook the thoughts out of your head as you placed the coffee down on your kitchen counter, suddenly noticing some scribbled letters on the side of the clear, plastic coffee cup. When you spun it around, you saw a handwritten message on it, and your heart stopped for a split second. 

Thank you, pretty girl :) 

You blinked a few times as you stared at it. Your eyes lingered on the handwriting, momentarily caught off guard. Was he just being friendly or was there an ulterior motive behind it? 

The following day, you returned home from your classes, and as you got out of your car, you noticed Cillian coincidentally unlocking the front door to his house with some grocery bags in hand. He glanced up as he pushed open his front door and saw you, a friendly smile crossed his expression. 

“Following me home?” He teased, and you giggled whilst you shook your head, textbooks in hand. 

“I mean, if I was following you, I’d definitely be trying to sneak a peek at what you’re cooking for dinner.”

Seizing the moment, he decided to just be bold with it. “Yeah? Why don’t you come over then?” 

“…What, like right now?” 

“You can tell me all about your classes while I cook dinner,” he replied innocently as you walked over to his front door. His words made you feel awfully juvenile…and excruciatingly hot and bothered. 

As you got comfortable in his kitchen, he unpacked the groceries and you sat on a barstool against his counter, watching the way his t-shirt was ever so slightly too tight against his arms and chest, showing his muscles off. 

“Make yourself comfortable. How does pasta sound?” 

“My favourite,” you giggled. “...So, do you always invite your neighbours over to help with dinner or am I just special?” 

Cillian glanced over his shoulder as he prepped the ingredients. “You’re definitely special. I’m not usually this straightforward, but something about you…” He trailed off and the unspoken tension lingered in the air. 

“Speaking of being ‘straightforward’ — I have to ask about that coffee from yesterday.” 

“Oh? What about it?” He feigned innocence. 

“Well, I couldn’t help but notice the cute note on the cup. ‘Thank you, pretty girl’? It definitely caught my attention...” 

“I’m glad it did,” he chuckled before pausing for a moment. “…I meant it, though. You’re very pretty.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, and he turned back to look at you again, his blue eyes making your breath hitch. “I– well, thanks,” you laughed thinly with a blush. “Sorry–I just didn’t expect you to think…I just…” 

His gaze continued to linger on you as his expression softened. “I hardly think you find this surprising considering you must get guys chasing after you all the time,” he said as he took a step closer to you. “You know, this isn’t the first time I’ve…noticed you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you sensed some weight behind his words. “Oh? Noticed me how?” 

Cillian hesitated for a beat before he decided to push the boundaries, seeing how far this could go. How far you would allow him to take it. “I saw you the other night, through your window. Taking those pictures…”

You went wide-eyed as you let his words sink in. “You were watching me through my window?!” Your voice came out in a shocked whisper, and he bit his lip shamelessly.

“I didn’t mean to at first–” he choked out in an attempt to defend his behaviour. “But once I saw you I couldn’t look away…”

You paused, and the silence hung heavy in the air before you spoke up.

“Well, if you’re that curious, I could always show you the pictures. Or…” You swallowed as you looked at him, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I could just show what’s underneath my clothes right now...”

His eyes went wide and he got closer to you, hesitantly reaching his arm around your waist as he pulled you into him. His eyes darkened, breath catching on your words. He hesitated, clearly torn morally. “You know I’m married…” he whispered, but it seemed like he was attempting to remind himself that rather than telling you.

“Right…and I was sending those pictures to my boyfriend,” you casually replied. 

Cillian’s eyes flashed with something dark, a mixture of surprise and unspoken jealousy. His resolve broke completely, unable to hold back anymore. There was no point in pretending to resist now, and he let out a sigh as he cupped your face.

“So, we’re both breaking a few rules then?”

Your eyes sparkled with mischief as you looked up at him far too innocently for what was happening right now. “You know what they say about rules,” you whispered. “They’re meant to be broken.” 

Cillian suddenly closed the gap between you two, kissing you with a hunger that felt insatiable. His hands came to pull you right up against him, and you gasped into the kiss when you could feel how hard he was already. He’d barely even touched you. 

You kissed him back with a hunger that surprised you both, and your hands came to clutch onto his shirt. He backed you into the countertop, which started to dig into your back, but that was the last thing on your mind — him fucking you being the first. You continued to kiss each other feverishly until neither of you could stand the build-up anymore. 

Between sloppy, dirty, messy kisses and wandering hands all over one another’s bodies, he started to undress you right in the middle of his kitchen. You only hoped your other neighbours weren’t as “curious” as he was and god forbid they looked through his kitchen windows as he ran his warm hands all over you at this very moment.

“Shit,” he choked out when your clothes hit the floor, revealing some rather racy lingerie underneath. “Are you tryna’ kill me?” 

“Am I getting you all worked up?” You teased, as you ran your hands against his chest. “You know I’m young enough to be your daughter, right?” 

“C’mon, baby,” he groaned, tilting his head back as you cupped his cock through his jeans. “That shouldn’t turn me on but, fuck, you keep talkin’ like that and I’m not gonna last…”

“We haven’t even fucked yet,” you giggled, pulling him in for another kiss. “Do me a favour — try not to give yourself a heart attack when you put it in, okay old man?” 

“Shut up,” he scoffed a laugh before kissing you passionately again. His hands snaked behind you, unclasping your sheer, lacy bra before it fell to the floor, leaving you in nothing but your matching panties. In retaliation, you got him out of his shirt before he turned you around and pressed you against the cold marble of his kitchen counter.  

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he mumbled as he gave your ass a light slap, causing you to moan. He slowly pulled your panties down from behind you, letting out a groan as he took in the sight of your drooling cunt, all soaked and ready for him to fuck.

He hoisted one of your legs up onto the kitchen counter and placed one of his hands on your hips. You heard his belt being unbuckled and his jeans being unzipped as he pulled his throbbing cock out, the tip flushed and leaking. He inhaled sharply as he pumped his cock a few times with his hand, before running his fingers through your dripping folds. 

“Look at that,” he cooed by your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “All soaked and ready for this cock, yeah?”

“Fuck,” you sighed, feeling him poke your entrance with the tip of his cock. “Need you inside of me, please.”

“Yeah, I bet, baby,” he said softly before pushing himself into you fully with one swift, long thrust. You let out a strangled noise at how he stretched the walls of your cunt and he moaned as his hands found purchase on your hips. Cillian wasted no time as he started to rock his hips back and forth, his thick cock going in and out of your wet, warm hole with ease.

He watched in awe as he looked down at his cock disappearing into your pussy, all warm, tight, and wet for him. “You’re so– fuck, baby. God, you’re so much tighter than my wife.”

“Oh my god,” you whined, his words only making you wetter as you heard your pussy making those squelching sounds. “A-am I?”

“Fuck, yeah you are,” he agreed, ramming into you faster now. You let out choked moans as you felt him pound his thick cock into your cunt, the tip of him reaching the deepest places inside of you. “Takin’ my cock like a good little girl, aren’t ya honey?”

“M–hmmm,” you mindlessly babbled, cock-drunk on his thickness. “Your good little girl…” 

“That’s right,” he purred, slamming himself as hard as he possibly could into you. “You’re my fuckin’ girl.” 

“Yeah…” You sighed, your body going slack as you tightened up around him. You hadn’t realized how close you were, and his arms came to wrap around your chest, pulling you against him as he rammed himself up into you deeper. Your head went slack too as you let it fall back against his shoulders. 

“Gonna come?” He cooed softly as he noticed how fucked out you were starting to get. “Can you be a good girl and come on my cock for me?” 

“Mmm,” you groaned as you saw stars, creaming his thick cock as you shut your eyes and continued to let him pound you senseless through your orgasm. “I’m…I–”

“And what was that earlier about me being old?” He joked as you failed to formulate a proper sentence, feeling himself about to come with you as he watched your mind go blank from his cock in your dripping, slick cunt. “Yeah, fuck — tightest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever felt.” 

Cillian felt himself pour his warm cum into your worn-out cunt, and he rested his head on your shoulder as he gave you a few more lazy thrusts from behind, still holding onto you tightly. The two of you were silent as you caught your breath in his kitchen, your body continuously being pressed up against his as he stayed buried deep inside of your hole. 

After a solid few minutes, he finally pulled out gently, making you whine. “Hang on, honey,” he said softly, placing a gentle kiss behind your ear. “Let me get a cloth.” He grabbed a towel from a kitchen drawer as his cum ran down your leg and dripped out of your cunt, before wiping it up gently. 

As he cleaned you up, he turned you around and you got lost in his hypnotizing blue eyes again. He laughed under his breath, cupping your face with his hands. “You’re so pretty,” he breathed, taking in your youth, your beauty and…you. All of you. “Just…beautiful.”

You blushed, smiling up at him dopily with a sigh as you leaned into his touch. For a moment, the silence between you was comfortable, but there was an undeniable weight to it. His eyes said something…unspoken. 

He let out a shaky breath, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I’ll…I’ll figure something out,” he murmured, voice steady with emotion. “About my marriage. About us. About everything”

“Cillian,” you blinked, caught off guard by the sudden seriousness in his tone. “You don’t have to–”

He shook his head, his thumb still brushing against your cheek. “I do because we’re already too close,” he murmured, voice low and steady. “Too close to go back, too close to pretend this doesn’t matter.”

You felt your breath hitch in your throat at his words, your heart beating much faster now. He softly bumped his nose against yours as he left a soft, lingering kiss on your lips. “We’ve already crossed the line, crossed every boundary,” he whispered. 

“But your family—” You started, the weight of reality pressing in. You could easily break things off with your boyfriend, but he had much more at stake than you did.

He cut you off gently, his gaze soft but unwavering. “I know what I’m risking, but I can’t pretend this doesn’t matter. You matter to me,” he paused in thought before he pulled you in again, tangling his hands in your tussled hair. “Like you said; rules are meant to be broken. If we’ve already broken every rule, then what else do we have to lose?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

𝑇𝐴𝐺𝐿𝐼𝑆𝑇

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[draconic-desire]

your yan!neuvi series got me on a chokehold !! I feel so bad for darling but it got me thinking, would neuvillette ever allow them to i dont know, go visit mondt to look at their parents’ grave (?).

Neuvillette meets his (dead) in-laws edition 😂

Ok this idea is simultaneously kinda funny but also makes me cry a bit because I totally think Neuvillette would have ensured your family’s wellbeing in your absence. Despite his flaws, he still maintains his overwhelming sense of duty and justice.

Yandere Neuvillette x Reader

(A Dance with the Dragon Interlude)

Talking about your life four centuries ago has become a bit of a taboo in the household you share with Neuvillette.

Mostly, it only serves to incite an argument, one you are always predestined to lose. The other times, it only reminds you of painful memories. So, you’ve learned to bite your tongue, to keep your past held tightly to your heart. Neuvillette doesn’t seem to mind; in fact, you believe he might prefer if your history were to be wiped from your mind completely, leaving a blank slate for him to carve his essence into.

Which is why you’re so shocked when, on a particularly storming evening, the Chief Justice himself requests, “Tell me about what your parents were like.”

Jolting, you nearly drop the book in your hands. He’s not looking at you—usually, having his gaze on you translates to irritation, concern, or lust. When he’s looking away from you, as he is now, irises trained on the waves battering the cliffs below your home, you know that means he is instead thinking, pondering.

But thinking about what? Your eyes narrow, and your heart accelerates. What is he getting at?

A hand clenches around your heart when you try to picture your mother and father in your head—and fail. Four hundred years without a visit or simple image…of course their features have faded over time. But you’ll never forget the warmth, the knowledge that they loved you until the end and supported your lifelong wish of pursuing marine biology, even when it took you away from them.

You only shake your head. “I don’t want to talk about that, Neuvillette.”

He turns to you, now, eyes filled with calculation. A judge presiding over his court. “I had no parents. I simply…came to exist. Born of the water, the waves, the sea foam, and bestowed with this primordial power.” He glances down at his gloved hand, palm squeezing into a fist. “So the idea of parents is…foreign to me. Though I have a sense of the kind of ceaseless, unconditional love that defines a family.” You know he’s talking about his feelings for you, and your tattoo burns. “Experiencing a loss of that magnitude would be incomprehensible.”

For the life of you, you cannot figure out his endgame here. Why acknowledge your loss? Why equate his adoration and obsession with you for parental love? Your eyes burn, your breath quickens, you feel the tattoo pulse with energy as you—

“Do you ever wonder about how they lived the rest of their lives?”

Yes. No. Everyday. Somehow, you find your voice, a quiet thing filled with warning. Your skin feels so hot, like your veins are laced with lightning. “And how would you know anything about that?”

Neuvillette’s sharp eyes cut to your frame. “I…made sure that they were fully provided for. They lived happy lives, believing you to be living out your dreams in Fontaine. They are now buried together, in the cathedral cemetery overlooking the Brightcrown Mountains.”

Your breath hitches, and that power in your blood begins to settle. Their favorite place. The Brightcrown Mountains, where your father proposed to your mother. The Favonius Cathedral, where they were married. And the cemetery behind the church, where your grandparents had been entombed, too.

Something falls onto your lap. It’s only when you touch your hands to your face that you realize you’re crying. Neuvillette watches you with concern, one hand raised and poised to reach out to you, but he keeps his distance as he lets you process.

You release a shaky sigh. Was it true? Did they pass with no fear for your safety, in ignorant bliss of your extended life? The thought, although morbid in some ways, actually brings you a sense of peace. Your parents never had to endure the loss of you in the same way you had for them.

You swallow thickly, your voice hoarse with emotion. “Can we…visit them?”

That sets Neuvillette’s back ramrod straight as he blinks. You’ve only been out of the house a handful of times, and he was the one to bring this topic to light, but to venture out of Fontaine entirely? His protective and possessive instincts flare immediately, screaming at him to shut this idea down, to grab you and sink his teeth into your neck, dominant, claiming. But as his silver eyes flick across your face, taking in your tears, the tremble in your hands, the pit of mixed despair and relief in your eyes, he relents.

Slowly, he blinks, taking in a deep breath. You’re expecting an excuse, a verbal slap on this wrist disguised as concern for your safety. Which is why, for the second time tonight, you’re stunned when Neuvillette, rising to his feet, extends his hand. “I’ll take you there.”

~*~

The trip is easy, thanks to the Hydro Dragon’s teleportation abilities. The two of you arrive at the large square in front of the cathedral, the statue of Barbados towering above you. Briefly, you wonder what the Archon of Freedom thinks about your situation, or if he even deigns to care.

Not much has changed about Mondstadt in four hundred years. The streets still possess an older feel, cobblestone streets and stone walls surrounding the city. After seeing the drastic change in Fontaine, the fact envelopes you in a sense of comfort, knowing that at least one aspect of the world has aged alongside you, long-lived but unchanged.

It’s long grown dark, and the heavy downpour persists. Neither of you brought an umbrella as you ascend the stairs and wrap around to the cemetery behind the church. The rain, however, seems to dissolve into your skin rather than chilling you or soaking your clothes, no doubt another consequence of Neuvillette’s magic coursing through your veins.

The Hydro Dragon leads you to a small plot towards the back. Two tombstones are erected side by side, and you fall to your knees as you read: (Mother’s name) and (Father’s name) (L/n). Lives entwined to their last breath, they soar high above the clouds.

You hear a rustle of fabric, and soon Neuvillette has joined you, kneeling by your side. He raises his arm, and tendrils of blue light pool from his palm, forming the shape of beautiful flowers. They surround the graves, a sea of blues to celebrate your loved ones.

The two of you sit there for what could have been minutes or hours. All you know is that this is the most at peace you’ve felt in four hundred years.

[gettinontopic]

This is so transphobic like what the hell is this

↓Screenshot↓

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[Image Id: A large addition to a tumblr poat reading "Also if I'm going to be honest, passing as a man is also just easier than passing as a woman. The rules to being a man and passing as a man are much more lenient than being a woman or passing as a woman. Trans women have to worry about shit like "I need to wear an outfit that distracts people from the fact I have an adams apple, and not allow people to see that I have shoulders, and learn makeup and basically become a voice actor and etc. and maybe I won't be called a man today" (and if you pass too well and the wrong cis guy feels guilty about being attracted to you, you get murdered meanwhile if you're a trans guy and you wanna pass as a man, you gotta like have short hair and hide or remove your boobs and at this point you can already just go to the grocery store and most people will see you as a man. Once you get facial hair and a deeper voice, most people will just see you as some guy. Like I don't understand why transmascs insist on this idea that they could never really pass. Like the idea that trans man who passes is almost far-fetched. Weird as hell." End Id]

Lets upack this shall we?

1."Passing as a man is easier than passing as a woman"

No it's not. The rules to being a man and passing as a men as strict as lots of rules for women. Have you ever seen a cis guys who fails to pass? They're called names, theyre physically beat, and theyre often ostracized from their cis peers just as fast as any trans person. Cis boys cant even pass half the time by the rules they made. Quit fucking lying about men just magically having it so easy.

Your experiences as passing as a man aren't universal and if you've never passed as one what makes you think it's fucking easy?

Also god forbid you're a black man, or a black man who is into something deemed feminine. Shit I've seen guys call black men women for wearing a damn hair bonnet.

Oh not to mention I'm only a man to transphobes when they can call me a "dangerous black man" only to switch back to tryibg to detransition me by saying "you can just be a masc girl!"

2.Adams apple

While you have to hide yours, I have to wear shit that distracts people that I *don't* have one. Cause, and I know this is wild, if they expect you not to have one for being a women, what do they expect me to have for being a man? Hmm? And if you're a man who's adams apple never came in? I've seen them called girls to. Shit I've heard a guy called not manly for missing his, and he was still in puberty!!

3.Shoulders

While you have to hide you shoulders, I have to do whatever I can to have the.. small shoulders on men? maybe if youre in a "non manly" field like music or art, but I do gym work. I better look likeit regardless of the disability that effacts my muscles growth and development or I am called maam by every guy there. Which sucks btw.

4. Makeup and voice acting:

Trans men also are regularly advised to wear makeup that masculinizes them and do voice training. thats some of our oldest passing tips. thats litterally never been unique to trans women. what the FUCK kinda of implications are you trying to put out here?

5. Murder:

Hey did you know cis guys will murder trans men bc they were attracted to them and then found out they werent "real men" and then kill them. shit cis women also kill us if they find out they were attracted to us and we aren't their ideal man anymore. do u know how men who hear im butch and into women behave?

Fuck right the fuck off trying to tokenize the murder lf trans women while throwing trans men murders in the "that doesn't happen" bin.

6. How many times have we said short hair and no boobs dont fucking automatically gets us gendered correcly!! We have voices that have to be trained, we have muscles were expected to build,and some men even watch the way you walk to guess if you have a dick or not.

Listen to any trans men. any of us for five minutes. those things do not making an easily passing trans man fuck you for lying about our experiences as not a trans man.

7. "You gotta like have short hair or remove your boobs"

Untrue! just Untrue. we also have to preform the rules of manhood really well. ive seen beareded transmen clocked for like so many different other reasons and you wouldn't listen to those men if it would save all trans people lives forever. cis men constantly dig at other men presentation to keep each other in line. Its a regular for them.

Also: not all of want to pass with those features. I deserve to have long hair and not bind and still pass as a man and you suck for defining everything around passing.

8. I don't know why you insist on this idea that trans women never really pass without obscene work (when ive met trans women that admit they have it easy by throwing on a dress and wearing her hair down) and that all trans men who have ascess to transition magically do pass (When multiple of us transitioning have said we dont)

If we can't talk about the ones who don't pass then you kinda can just sweep away the idea we don't face discrimination or danger and that's getting us killed actually.

None of us have said we can all never really pass any who say they can't are usually speaking on their own experiences. Because you want us all to pass so bad you don't care that we don't, and that it gets us backlash and hurt.

Also, if you ever read this, kiss my black ass and go reevaluate what makes you think you should speak on experiences that aint yours as if you're the one with the Hard Cold Facts.

[austinsastrology8991]

> Neptune IN the HOUSES < How your DELUSIONS find you RESOLUTIONS

Neptune in the First - You act so naive, and now people actually think your naive. But you hate it when people treat you this way, but your always swaying around and acting oblivious to everything around you, but ik its all a front, and people find you to be mystical and now everyone is entranced by this dance you make acting oblivious. its obvious its an act, but then the more you get to know them you realize its not and thats actually who they are, and you wonder why no one has bonked them on the head yet Neptune in the Second - you dont really value anything, you think everything comes and goes, and your just like a paper bag flowing through the wind tbh. But this quality of letting things be and go, allows you to be molded by life and that can be a useful tool for artisty, but man yall just give up easy tbh. also your voices are like ethereal - kiddd cudiiiiiieee Neptune in the Third - you guys talk like a movie character, and its never the villain but the naive protagonist who just believes in a bunch of bullshit. but everyone thinks your so amusing to lissten to and i suppose you are but sometimes you guys really are playing up this movie trope and well im done watching the same movie i want a re-cast. then next week you will re-cast yourself as a new protagonist and well everyone just loves to watch you be an idiot so keep it up Neptune in the Fourth - Your literally 'good will huntings robin Williams'. you act like you figured out emotions because you let them come and go, but when someone questions whats going on with you, you find a million reasons to explain why you behave this way, and why others do, whilst completely avoiding letting your emotions out because your way too sensitive youd rather keep it at them at a distance that way you can handle it Neptune in the Fifth - You guys are the embodiment of a amusement park. YOu perform a million different acts, and never run out of ideas on how to entertain. Very amusing to watch, but people tend to take you for granted since your always so fun to be around we just expect yalll to keep performing, and you can, but this eats you up inside. then you perform again showing us how you feel as usual, and how it feels being used, and well i guess its all good because you have a never ending source of material - yourselves

Neptune in the Sixth - IMO the real mvps of delusions. No one is as delusional as them but they dont even care because they have thought of so much bullshit and have found so much evidence for their bullshit that they now realized that what most people believe in is bullshit, so they just think everything is bullshit. They dont even give a fuck anymore because to them everything isnt real, and everything is real, they have trouble understanding reality, because they have seen things no one could ever believe exists Neptune in the Seventh - Hopelessly projecting what they want in the world just for it to never come to fruition. This is actually how they pull, so dont hate their game. but they tell people how they wish things would be, and people want to save them by showing them how the world works, or giving into their stupid delusions and pretending what they believe in is real. Kinda a lot to deal with. But they'll never admit that they act so innocent but then your basically taking care of a baby Neptune in the Eighth - They make the universe bend to their will whether it wants to or not. They will pull every magic trick they know to make sure that their delusions are not delusional anymore. And its impressive how much they believe in there imaginings that it does tend to become real, but i would warn them and whoever is around them; That their fantasies tend towards the dark. so if they want something to be real (and they gonna do everything they can to get it) they may or may not resort to black magic or some shady ass shit Neptune in the Ninth - They believe in god a lot, maybe too much to appear normal. They are the type to make up a cult and behave liek mormons and say it was the will of god. The people ive met with this are strange, and their beliefs alter quite a bit, and for some reason they always have met deities and angels. But they are so delusional in their beleifs that if you hear them out, its so far fetched youll get lost in them because your so curious how someone got so lost in their own religion you wonder if they'll ever return to the real world Neptune in the Tenth - They are openly strange. Bro dennis Rodman has this conj his midheaven and its just iconic really. These guys are the strangest most ethereal beings and everyone gets lost in their cult of personality. Always switching up their identity, they think reality is bullshit and well we are all here for it because yall do the strangest things and i just wanna watch what your gonnna do next. but im still trynna figure out how close i wanna get to you because being seen with you is a risk for my reputation, because you clearly dont give a fuck about yours Neptune in the Eleventh - How many acid shirts do you own. Its like your the public personification of 'make love not war and peace bro' and its cool everyone wants a freidn like you, but no one takes your advice seriously. Because your so lost in the make believe that you think your make believe can actually make someone make believe..... But like cmon how the fuck do you think thats going to change anything. WHen has 'peace bro' ever actually worked. do your charities or whatever but i do not see it working as much as you think it can. sorry not sorry. But i do love you. But get a haircut Neptune in the Twelvth - Your literally the type to lick your finger , put it up in the air and say 'yep it going to rain wednesday' then it actually rains wednesday. And your so cooked no one believes you (because why would you) but then it does happen and now eveyrone thinks your even more cooked because what you had cookin is a real recipe. Now everyone wants to know how you have your third eye or whatever open and now you just want to hide again lmao. Also incredible artists, i recommend you guys keep your intuitive insights to yourself because you are right a lot but why tell people when everyone is just going to question how you see signs rather than heed your advice

[luna0713hunter]

requesting for zoro with shy! reader who he begins to avoid and not talk that much to out of worry about his feelings for them. reader thinks he hates them and talks about it with usopp. usopp then confronts zoro about it and he’s later convinced to confess to reader. tysm and keep up the great work 🤍

Author's note : feels like i haven't wrote for Zoro in a while!! Hope you enjoy it and thank u! ^^

i just finished this at 2 am and i have a lecture at 7 am lmaooo

Easy to love

Zoro Roronoa x reader

Warnings : none,angst to fluff,hurt/comfort,talk about insecurities,happy ending

*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘

The sound of the music and people talking all vanishes in the background as you watch Zoro stands up from his sit right next to you and leaves for more drinks.

And it was like that all night long.

Ever since you joined the straw hats,you couldn't help your heart from beating a little faster when you were in Zoro's presence. Since the very first begining,he was your main focus; wherever he went, whatever he needed. Zoro was you sun,your moon and everything you loved, simply was in him.

But loving Zoro wasnt easy.

You were never one for showing open affection;your shy nature never allowing you to talk about your real feelings,and making everything harder for you. And Zoro having an intimating personality didnt help either. So you stayed back; choosing to not talk to him when he was around. And Zoro seemed like it didnt matter to him as well,since he never took it upon himself to open an actual conversation with you. And to tell the truth,you knew he probably hated your guts.

So as always,you loved him in silence.

The glass of the drink in your hands sweats slightly;the cool feeling welcoming on your warm skin. You didnt really drink much,even if you were drowning in sorrow,you chose to stay alert in case of danger.

So when Usopp slides in the sit right next you,you immediately acknowledge his presence.

His drunk presence.

"yo," he giggles from his own voice and slides his ridiculous sunglasses down his nose to eye you and then your untouched drink, "what's gotten you in a bad mood?"

You give him a half hearted smile and tilt your head, "what do you mean?"

"well,for starters you haven't even touched your drink all night," he motions to the glass in your hand,then his voice takes a cautious tilt, "and you're crying and its not from alcohol."

Upon his declaration,your eyes widen and you hurriedly start wiping your eyes.

When did you even start to cry?

"ah,its nothing, Usopp. dont worry about it."

"c'mon, I'm your crewmate and friend. You can tell me anything." He bumps his shoulder to yours gently, "and you always keep everything inside. Its not good for ya."

You smile softly at him and look back down at your glass.

The ice had melted completely.

"since when did you become to smart?"

"I'm always smart!dont be maan to a man who's here to comfort you!"

"sorry,sorry!" You giggle,but it sounds sad even to your own ears. You sigh and your fingers trace the water beads on the glass, "it's Zoro."

"Zoro?what about him?"

"well...i kinda...like him?" You huff and shakes your head, "no...who am i kidding,i love him."

Usopp stays silent;maybe out of shock or for giving you the time you need to gather the rest of your thoughts.

"i love him so much. So so fucking much,but he fucking hates me. And..." Your voice cracks and you lower your head, "and it hurts. Cause i know I'll never have him."

Usopp rests a comforting hand on your shoulder, "y/n," his voice is oddly gentle for someone who had too much drinks, "i dont think he hates you. Zoro's just like that; he's emotionally constipated." His hand squeezes your shoulder reassuringly, "dont think much about it. I promise that he doesnt hate you."

A sigh escapes you lips and you bite them from wobbling, "y-yeah. Ok." You clear your throat and suddenly stand up, "listen,thanks for listening,but i think I'm gonna rest for a bit."

Usopp nods, and stands up as well, "need me to walk you back to the ship?"

"its alright. Thank you again."

And with that,you exit the bar as fast as your legs allow you to.

-

The weather outside is warm;gentle breeze coming from the ocean and messing up your hair. Your cheeks are sticky with tears,and your eyes hurt from rubbing them all night long.

Maybe you should just quit being a pirate;leaving the Straw hats and work in a small shop or somewhere. Wherever if it means you wont see the man you love,hate you so much. And the mere thought of never seeing your crewmate,of never seeing Zoro,has your tears running again.

"never thought alcohol would do this to you."

That has you jumping from your place and turning around to see Zoro leaning against the doorframe of the bar.

And when he spots your tears,he frowns and his lips twist downward unhappily. As he steps closer to where you're sitting,his three swords clank against each other,and the sound has you deciding whether you can run for it or he'll catch up to you.

However,before you can even stand up,he sits heavily beside you and you wrap your arms around yourself to make yourself smaller. Zoro side eyes you and wets his lips.

"Usopp talked to me."

You swallow loudly and shrink into yourself more.

"is..is that so?"

"yeah. And he actually said something interesting for once in his life."

"what did he say?" You laugh nervously.

"Oh, nothing much, except," he turns to you completely and rests his elbows on his knees, "that you think i hate you. Now,i can only hope he was bullshitting about that as well;like all of his wild stroies."

When you stay quiet and lower your head more,he lets out a bitter laugh and raises his brows.

"you cant be serious."

And for some reason,those words are enough to break you.

You jerk your head up in his direction,and watch as he flinches slightly upon seeing your tear stained cheeks.

"and why fucking not?!" And gosh,you aren't even drunk but your words start spilling out of your mouth without any filter, unlike your usual self, "you never talk to me!heck,you dont even look me in the eyes!!how the hell am i supposed to think otherwise when the man I'm always chasing,hates my guts!?"

And for the first time since meeting him,Zoro seems actually speechless. The silence starts to stretch for so long that your cheeks start to burn with embarrassment and new wave of tears make their way down your eyes. You furiously start wiping at them;the burning growing more as you stand up .

"just forget it," you mumble without looking at him, "forget everything i said. And I'll leave the crew as soon as possible so you dont have to worry about-"

You dont have time to continue,before a pair of strong arms wrap themselves around your middle,and with one simple tug,you drop in Zoro's lap. Your back hits his muscular chest and when you realize your situation,your cheets burn bright red.

"What the," you start to squirm, "Let go!"

But Zoro only tightens his hold on your waist. He drops his forehead against your shoulder with a huff and mumbles something in your neck. You stop your squirming,and with hesitant fingers brush against his hair.

And you dont think you can sleep that night after knowing how awfully soft they are.

"Zoro," you softly whisper, "i cant understand what you're saying."

There's another huff and you realize just how much of a man child he truly is.

"i said,i dont hate you." A pause, "its actually the opposite."

"is it?"

"yeah." You shiver when you feel his lips brush against the skin of your neck, "i happen to like you very much. And i suck at acting around the people i like. Always try to push them away instead."

And when he squeezes your middle,you let out an embarrassed squeak.

"y/n," he gently turns your face toward himself by taking hold of your chin gently, "i love you."

And when your tears start to fill you eyes again,you know its happy ones this time.

Zoro frowns and huffs;and with such gentle hands wipes away your tears.

"don't cry. It makes me want to tear the world down when i see your tears."

He pressed his lips to your forehead.

"i dont wanna live in a world where you cry."

And those words,has you throwing your arms around his neck,and pull him close to press your lips to his soft ones.

But before you do, you whisper against his lips,

"i love you too. I dont wanna live in a world where i cant love you."

And for once in a long time,the night feels lighter and the moon shines.

[harksness]

Coffee Cake

A/N: ok i don't know a ton about whats going on in the show ive mostly just watched the trailers but i did hear rio is apparently gonna be agathas ex? so that's kinda what i based this around lol if i'm missing any other info thats why tho,, i dont really care for spoilers i just havent been seeking them out yk so i hope this is good!!! im nervous i missed something important but i hope yall like it aidhsjdj :')

the request!

Warnings: None I think?

WC: 3.7K

Agatha Harkness is a greedy, selfish woman who will do anything for power. You know this much about her is true. 

It’s what made you so cautious of her at first. So reluctant to agree to join her and her little band of misfit mages when she sought you out in your dingy little magic shop.

She approached you with a sly grin and praise, telling you that she could see the potential in you. How strong your magic could be and how she can help you harness it.. If you let her.

Everyone that’s remotely aware of the magical world knows about the cruel and crazy Agatha Harkness. But for you, she’s never just been a story to be gossiped about. She’s been a semi-regular customer since you inherited the shop. She’s stopped by for your services once every few months, except for that long gap recently where she was trapped, since you’re able to provide supplies and books for spells that aren’t so easily attainable.

You know she was also an avid customer of your fathers, but he wouldn’t let you around if he knew someone dangerous would be dropping by. So it wasn’t until your father passed away five years ago and you inherited the shop that you really met Agatha. Ever since, she’s been a cautious acquaintance. Someone vaguely on your radar.

You didn’t even consider the possibility of you being on her radar too.

After dwelling on her offer for a few days, reluctantly, you agreed to it. And even more reluctantly, you allowed them all to meet up in the basement of your little magic shop once in a while.

But you remained wary of the older witch. She followed up on her promise to help you grow your knowledge of magic and expand your abilities. But as the two of you spent more time together, you began to warm up to her and she started opening up to you. Her smooth sense of humor and jokes didn’t all seem like a ploy to get you to let your guard down anymore.. You could tell by her soft smiles that weren’t there before that she just enjoyed making you laugh.

And after some time, Agatha started to show a genuine curiosity in you outside of magic. Your life, interests, family, and she even went out of her way to compliment you. She had never done that before. She was putting a lot of effort into really helping you grow, and you were becoming rather grateful for her. 

Your father always pushed the importance of knowing how to supply witches properly. Knowing everything you could possibly know about herbs, potions, crystals, tarot, spells and how to attain them, but not much practice or knowledge in the way of making it all work effortlessly together by yourself. Or even much in the ways of wielding your own magic, for that matter. You’ve always wanted to know more, but your father was adamant against it. So you just settled until now.

You would have late nights spent alone amongst the dust and boxes in the basement of your shop, her hands running over yours to adjust the way you wield your magic during different spells. How close the two of you would get under the bright, fluorescent lights hanging over your head.. And how inevitably, you’d long forget about the lessons and would favor sitting and chatting about anything and everything into the early hours of the morning, perched on an uncomfortable fold out chair that makes your ass hurt but every second was worth it to be with her.

Agatha Harkness is all of those horrible things that you mentioned before. But she’s also so genuinely funny and effortlessly charming, intensely passionate and caring despite those flaws.

You were warming up to her more than you realized. You would frantically practice magic in your time apart, desperate to impress her and earn her praise. Laughing just a bit louder at her jokes and wearing your hair the way she complimented. Picking out more clothes like the ones she said look lovely on you..

You weren’t simply warming up to her. The obvious soon smacked you in the face that you were tumbling down a rabbit hole of romantic feelings for the woman. The realization came in the simplest of ways, Agatha brought you coffee from your favorite cafe down the road that you pass every day on your way to work. She remembered your favorite order and your favorite treat, a proud little smile on her face as she handed you the food. And everything about your developing feelings smacked into you like a semi truck.

Panic coursed through you. You didn’t know what to do, you couldn’t hide these feelings forever. It would become obvious eventually with the amount of time you were spending together and gosh, what then? How would you deal with the suffocating embarrassment of being turned down by her?

She’s the Agatha Harkness. One of the most infamous and influential witches in history, hundreds of years old and a historic icon.. She would never want someone like you. She’s important. She commands powerful, intense magic, goes on great adventures. Her daily life is what great legends and myths are composed of. Agatha’s leaving her mark on the world.

While you’re just here in your rundown store.. Taking orders at your shop, helping people select which crystals they need and counting your register.

You’re lucky enough to play a part in her story, even if it’s just a small one. Even if it’s just supplying her with what she needs and supporting her. Hopefully, when the legend of Agatha Harkness is told for years to come, your name can be mentioned in a brief line.

As if all of those self deprecating, existential feelings weren’t bad enough, Rio soon waltzed into your little group and things were made even more complicated.

It was impossible not to notice the tension between Agatha and Rio. the way their gazes lingered on each other.. Words exchanged that seemed flirty but you couldn’t really tell if that was the case or if you were just jealous, the constant sneaking off together and being found passionately exchanging soft words. And you just felt shoved to the side, pushed out.

No more did you and Agatha have long nights spent in the basement of your shop. You’d slink away from the group the second you got the chance and gave up trying to get Agatha’s attention. Or when you had to stick around, you’d cling to Billy or the lovely Mrs. Hart. The few moments you were able to finally get to Agatha, Rio would always conveniently swoop in and steal her attention away, so you didn’t even bother after long. You felt defeated.

But once in a while, you’d catch her bright blue eyes catching on you. Gaze lingering, features creased with conflict. Once in a while, it seemed as if Agatha was trying to work her way over to you and Rio would conveniently step in the way. Or maybe you’re just being too hopeful.

Already having felt unworthy of Agatha’s attention, you quickly accepted your fate. Rio is so much more powerful and worth Agatha’s time, it makes sense why she’d ditch you for her. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that it feels like a knife was planted in your gut, and it twists every time you see the two of them lingering together.

Eventually, you were so overwhelmed that you just needed a break. So you locked yourself in your little apartment and slept in as late as you could, just wanting to ignore your complicated feelings and problems for one day.

But then you made the mistake of deciding that a little treat would be the best way to give yourself some comfort. So, you exited your little apartment a bit after eleven in the morning, desperately craving your favorite coffee and regular breakfast treat.

Walking back home, you were happily sipping on your coffee but disappointed that your favorite breakfast was all out by the time you got there. So instead you grabbed a coffee cake, happy with it but some of your excitement was stomped out at the fact that it’s not what you were craving, but it will do. You have to eat something.

Your steps come to a sudden halt when you see Agatha a few buildings ahead of you, and you notice she’s at your apartment door. Peeking in your window and taking a step back to do her best to look into the windows of your home situated above the little store. 

You’re so surprised that you’re not able to act quickly enough to avoid her eyes inevitably falling onto you when she turns her head. The street is vacant of any other people, presumably all at their regular nine to fives instead of in the back streets of the city with little stores that aren’t needed much at this time of day.

Her stressed features relax when she sees you, and she’s immediately moving down the sidewalk towards you. The wind catches her long braid and the end of her open black coat, and she’s wearing a white button up and skinny jeans underneath. She bobs with the intensity of each step she takes towards you, and you notice a coffee and a little brown bag pinched between her fingers.

Well. Deciding that there’s no avoiding it, you begin to nervously walk towards her, eventually meeting her almost halfway.

“Where have you been!?”

Agatha exclaims, almost a shout but not quite. It takes you a bit off guard, her features stern with worry and frustration.

“I just decided to stay home today, I needed a day off..”

You speak softly, feeling yourself growing anxious under her gaze. You glance around nervously, unable to decide whether to settle your eyes on the cracked pavement beneath your feet, the large “for sale” sign hanging from a window of an abandoned store across the road, or the trash can sitting outside of the little sandwich shop to your left that closes too early in the day.

“I feel like I haven’t seen much of you lately, I’ve been worried..”

Agatha’s voice drops into something softer when she says that. Your chest tightens at her words, concern heavy in her stunning blue eyes as she regards you for a moment, silence overtaking the two of you. You want to grab her and shake her and yell at her because it’s her fault you haven’t seen each other much, but from the tenderness in her voice and her eyes you don’t have the heart to be angry right now.

“Let’s go up to my apartment and we can talk.”

You gesture back to the door she was just standing outside of. Agatha glances behind her before nodding her head, silence overtaking the two of you as you walk back towards your home. You walk by the barber shop that’s already closed for the day, it’s run by the sweetest little old man that doesn’t have much energy for it anymore, and find your front door.

You fumble with the lock for a moment before it opens and you begin leading her up the narrow, lopsided stairs of the old apartment building. She closes and locks the door behind her as she does so, and once you reach the top of the stairs, you unlock the second door and hold it open for her as she steps into your little old one bedroom apartment.

It’s nice and cheap enough to keep you happy and living comfortably. It has a sizable living room and kitchen, a big bedroom and a bathroom with a washer and dryer crammed into it. There’s no dishwasher, but air conditioning and more than enough space for you and all of your stuff so you absolutely can’t complain. Luckily enough, you do know enough magic to make doing the dishes a lot less of a task.

And with the barber shop below you being closed most of your time home, anyways, you don’t have to worry much about being disturbed or disturbing any neighbors. It’s quiet, cute, and it has everything you need. It’s decorated with everything you love, it feels so homey and comfortable and.. You.

Agatha seems to notice that right away, all of your negative feelings momentarily being forgotten and a warmth spreading throughout your chest as a soft smile spreads on her face at the sight of your little home.

She’s looking around as she sets her bag on your dining room chair, abandoning her food from the cafe on your table before she starts to look around. She looks over all the pictures on your fridge, and you can tell she’s really stopping to take them in as her smiles shift with each photo she looks over and she lets out little laughs through her nose at some of them.

Agatha looks over all of your little decor strewn about, and any pictures you have hung up on the walls as she takes a step into your living room.

“Your place is so.. You. I love it.”

She speaks softly as she approaches the little table under the window that’s overflowing with your own collection of herbs. She leans down, peering at them and smiling at the little trinkets and crystals that you have planted in the soil of the pots.

You feel your face beginning to flush red at that, everything feeling so sweet and intimate suddenly. You fidget with your coffee as she turns around and continues to poke around your apartment, a look of pure adoration on her features.

“Uh.. Why did you say you were worried about me earlier?”

You speak up suddenly, the words tumbling out of your lips as you hope to distract her from looking around further right now. This moment is too sweet, you need to put a stop to it before you have to spend the rest of your life longingly reflecting on it.

Her gaze flickers towards you. Agatha straightens up, clearing her throat as she moves to sit on your couch, perching gracefully on the edge of her seat.

“I feel like we haven’t seen as much of each other lately... I’m just.. Worried.”

You feel yourself getting gassed up at her words. She’s been pushing you out, spending quality time with Rio and she has the audacity to say that? A deep sigh escapes your lips as you set down your cup of coffee a little more firmly than you would have liked.

“Agatha.. We used to be close. I thought we’d build a really strong…”

You pause awkwardly, a frustrated huff of breath pushing past your closed lips as you try to think of the right word to explain the relationship between the two of you. Agatha quirks an eyebrow curiously at the action.

“...Bond.. But then Rio waltzes in and I’m just forgotten about. You’ve barely talked to me, that’s why you haven’t seen much of me lately. You’ve just been too busy sneaking off and flirting with your green witch."

Your eyes narrow, anger seeping into your words as you spit them at her, folding your arms over your chest and huffing angrily. Agatha stares at you for a moment.

“I like you, Agatha! Fuck! I thought we had something!”

She seems surprised when you shout those words out, silence deafening around your angry words as you gesture between the two of you, doing your best to emphasize what you’re trying to say. Your frustration is boiling over, not caring anymore about the embarrassment of your feelings getting out when she’s being so damn oblivious about how she’s treated you.

“But it’s like you’ve just forgotten all about me.”

Those words are soft and quiet, contrasting your previous ones. A smile quickly breaks out on Agatha’s face, her head tilting back as she laughs, her obnoxiously witchy cackle escaping her lips. You feel your face flush, lips pursing in anger as her laughter crescendos.

“Okay, if my feelings are so funny you can just get out!”

You’re shouting over her laughter now, anger bubbling forward as she immediately stands, smile still on her face as she crosses your apartment over to you.

“Sweetheart, I’m laughing because Rio is my ex. There’s no way in hell I’d ever get back with her. We’ve got a long, complicated history, and I’ve been trying to smooth some things out and figure out the best way to explain everything to you. I felt.. Awkward that my ex barged in on everything.. And I didn’t know what to do.”

Agatha gestures around vaguely as she explains. You feel dumbstruck, your mind numb at the information that was just dumped onto you.

“Especially when I do like you so much… Your ex barging in on everything like that can be a bit of a romance killer..”

You blink dumbly at her, shocked at her first admission of having any sort of romantic feelings for you. She sighs as she begins to walk around the table, analyzing your features for any signs of discomfort as she speaks.

“I like you. A lot. I think you’re such a pretty, sweet little thing that swooped in so unexpectedly and stole my heart in a way I’ve never experienced before..”

You feel your anger and frustration ebbing away at her words, instead your chest fills with excitement. She approaches you, cautiously reaching for your hands. You let her take them, her long, soft fingers wrapping around yours as she tilts her head downwards slightly to meet your gaze, soft smile toying on the edge of her lips.

“I haven’t had my eyes set on anyone but you for a long time. And I’m..”

You can’t help the little smile that forces its way onto your lips as she stumbles through her apology. You think how hard she’s trying is cute, especially with how sincerely she’s trying to make things right for you.

“I’m really sorry about how I dealt with everything.”

The words eventually tumble past her lips, and you squeeze her hands softly as you tilt your head up towards her.

“Thank you.. And yeah, knowing she’s your ex.. That’s pretty awkward. You don’t have to explain everything to me right away, what you’ve said is more than enough.. But.. You’re sure, I mean, about me?”

You ask nervously and she looks confused at your words.

“I mean.. I’m not something great, amazing or infamous like you are. Or Rio.. I’m just some girl who runs a store.”

You simply shrug and she stares at you dumbly for a moment before letting out a noise of disbelief.

“Sweetheart, you’re so much more than that. You have to be extraordinary to catch my eye. Trust me.. You’re something special.”

She speaks the last part softly, the most sincere and adoring gleam lighting up her already bright eyes.

“I don’t want her.”

Agatha gestures vaguely, and you know she’s talking about Rio, and you're appreciative that she’s trying to focus more on this moment being about you.

“I don’t want anyone else.. I just want you. Only you.. And I have for a while now.”

She’s smiling down at you, a soft, fond tone lining her voice that’s going to make you turn to mush any second now. You feel as if your heart is going to burst right out of its chest.

After a pause, you can’t help but lean forward and press your lips against hers, a surge of bravery washing over you at her words. You feel her smiling against your lips as she returns the kiss, her soft mouth moving against yours sweetly as she lets go of one of your hands, raising it to cup your jaw.

Your skin feels electric under her touch, and you crave more of it. Your mouth widens into a big smile, leaning further into her as your head grows fuzzy at her attention, desperately craving more of her.

Her other hand trails up your arm to hold your shoulder, digging her fingers into your skin as she holds you softly, pulling you closer to her. You’re grinning like an idiot against her lips, raising your arms to wrap around the back of her neck to pull her even closer.

She pulls away for a moment to laugh softly against your lips, the two of your eyes meeting for a moment as you smile softly at one another. Her eyes crinkle around the edges in the cutest way. Overwhelming excitement washes over you, the room tense with the giddy-ness of new love and the sweet moment. You lean in to kiss her again, but she speaks before your lips can connect with hers.

“I grabbed your favorite coffee and your favorite treat for you.. But I see you already went out and got some..”

Agatha sounds a bit disappointed that she couldn’t surprise you. But your smile widens at her words, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

“Well.. They were all out of my usual food when I got there, so if you really were able to snatch up my favorite treat I just might have to thank you.”

You wink suggestively at her, and a look of excitement crosses her features.

“Oh? And how would you do that?”

She speaks lowly, teasingly as she leans down towards you. 

“It’s your prize, I think you need to tell me what you’d want from me, hm?”

You fight the urge to giggle at the excited grin that grows on her features. Leaning down, her eyes catch on your lips before she softly brushes her nose against yours. The sweetness of the action leaves your mind spinning, dizzy off of the romantic that is Agatha Harkness.

“How about one of these, for starters..”

She’s pressing her lips against yours again. Eagerly, you meet her, pushing your lips into hers. Your arms tighten around her neck, her hands moving downwards to wrap around your waist and you feel like a lovestruck teenager at how your insides turn to mush at the action. Deciding to tease her just a bit, you pull back, just slightly enough to where you can feel the heat of her warm breath brushing against your lips.

“Do you like coffee cake?”

[the-s1lly-corner]

Hello!

I can’t remember if I’ve already sent a request and if I have I’m sorry if I’m kinda spamming you!😅

Anyway, can I request the proxies (Toby, Hoodie and Masky) from creepypasta that has a crush on the new proxy who has a ballerina fighting style? Their style looks a lot like Carmilla Carmines from Hazbin hotel! :)

Thank you!

- 🐨

The proxies x Proxy!Reader who has a ballerina fighting style

Not annoying at all! Also I don't recall any requests like this being sent in so you're all good, no spamming here!

Usually I dont write romantic for toby.. however since its crushing I think I'm fine with diving into it just a tad (no shade to you, of course!)

MASKY:

He thinks.. you're fighting is a little impractical, though he never says it. However he cant deny that it seems to be fairly effective. He does get fed up if you consistently down him during any sparring you two do, since his methods is usually tackling and aiming for weak points. Blunt and straight forward.. as for crushing.. he just observes you. Doesnt make much effort to actually connect, but hes still ever lingering. It's like a cat, he watches but the second you try to initiate anything he sulks off. It's going to take a while to warm that one up if you feel the same.. even if hes the one who catches feelings first

HOODIE:

Oh he spars with you every now and then. Sometimes you win, other times he does! It's kind of a coin toss in that regard! He does get fairly good at dodging your attacks and disarming you, pushing you to try new moves.. as for how hes like when hes crushing.. he tends to hover. Granted all three tend to do that, but they all do it.. differently. Hoodie actually makes an attempt to interact with you, in the form of trying to show you the ropes of how things work being a proxy. He shows you his private spot in the woods where he gets his alone time... you're the only person who knows and who's allowed to enter it.. kind of just opens up to you and let's you in on stuff, usually for your benefit

TOBY:

Taking into account he cant really.. feel pain.. he tends to last longer when training with you, as compared to the other two. Actually you might have to be the one to put a stop to it if you notice him bleeding a little too much. He thinks your fighting style is a little... dumb? "Girly"? He teases you about it and might even mimic you. He finds any excuse he can to spend time with you, no matter what's going in. He could hate the activity and complain but he doesnt leave when he can. Very clingy, too. As well as this he can get a little.. jealous when others take your attention away

[cloggedarteri]

♡okay, so i've been watching rdr clips and saw one with arthur standing in front of a mirror calling himself old, sad, and ugly. as a fellow lover of arthur morgan i refuse to allow this man to stew in his low self-esteem so… ♡imagine you, a fellow outlaw and member of the van der linde gang, looking for your ever-busy honey arthur morgan, and finding him watching his reflection in a mirror. you rest your hip on the door frame, admiring the view of your distracted honey but your attention is drawn when he begins to talk to himself. "ah, you ugly bastard. you're getting old, old, and kinda sad. no wonder they all leave you. you sour-faced idiot. you ain't fooling no one." you take personal offense to every ill word that passes through arthurs lips and, it is an instinct that quickly draws you to him. it's almost laughable how quick arthur grows stiff and unmoving as you pull him into your firm embrace. how long had you been standing there? had you been there long enough to hear what he'd said, arthur asks himself, and, the sorrowful look on your face is confirmation enough. you had heard. and you weren't meant to. you were meant to be busying yourself downstairs helping pearson or charles or whoever it was who needed helping nowadays. not listening in on the grim thoughts that plagued him. you both stare at one another awaiting who will break the silence. you do "ya know... i ask myself often how id been so lucky to have met the man i see in front of me. look at me baby, you dont wish to acknowledge it but its true arthur... the man you so easily insult is one capable of incredible goodness. incredible goodness and humility and love thought incapable among people of our sort yet, this man stands before me. he's a sensitive one, this man. he's struggling to look me in the eye right now but i know its true. hes goes day by day giving pieces of himself to the people who depend on the ferocity of his fists and pistols. he is pushed to his absolute limit and walks amongst his family as if he remains untouched by the violence brought about by his way of life. he thinks himself a broken man… but i love you. i love you and i'm not going anywhere

[luxthestrange]

TWST Incorrect quotes#351 Adult Film~

Then...It was the 3rd years class turn-

Yuuka*After they reviewed the SAME info with the 1st and 2nd years to the 3rd years, Sees that You got the projector ready and dim the lights of the classroom*And so now We're gonna watch...a kinda adult film~Do you think you boys are mature enough for that?~

3rd-year students*Think they are FINALLY catching a break*OH MY SEVENS YES!?I can't BELIEVE this is happening...

Idia: Y-yeah man I didn't know they're allowed to show us stuff like that!

Cater*Hums is feeling iffy*...Mmh I dont know guys...this feels sus...like a trap

Trein*Refilling his wine glass*Huh well...Glad to know at least SOMEONE is not completely stupid today...

Yuu*Winking at them*WE'RE GONNA WATCH THE MIRACLE OF LIFE!~,FILM ABOUT A LIFE BIRTH!~ENJOY!~*Hits the play button*

3rd-year students:...WHAT-AAAAAAAOOOOH!?

Idia: OMS WHAT IS THAT!?!*covering his eyes but the...SOUNDS...*

Trey:...Um...I believe that is referred to as..."Crowning"...SIR'S WHY?

Crewel*Recording their reactions smiling at him*Um~For Y'all to suffer...so I can LAUGH MHAHAHA!~

Vil & Rook: Alright men, the gentlemen' way would be at least we can do is watch this all the way thru... it's the least we can do..given we will never ever have to actually DO THAT*Both also disturbed by it but they take a breath, Rook being sure to remain smiling*

Yuuka*Snaps fingers and points at him with a smug face*EXACTLY!

Idia*Waking up after he fainted*Ok I think im doin' better-*Sees the video eyes roll back and falls to the floor again*

Lilia*Looking at him, and turns to the teacher...also wanting to join them in the drinking and laughing at the younglins*Idia fainted again!~

Cater*Looking at the straight-faced Leona & Malleus*DUDE'S HOW ARE YOU WATCHING THIS SO CALMLY!?

Leona*Completly unphased looking at the birth, learn this at a very young age, drinking from his water bottle that has "Respect Woman Juice"*...

Mal*Beside him also has a straightfaced beside him arms crossed looking at the film*...

Malleus Draconia INTERNALLY*Silently screaming on the inside*

Its the "ENJOY~"That sends rollin'...Malleus now can't look at female humans in the eyes without apologizing-

Part of 3:

[midnightcreator12]

All this gravity falls content got me thinking on an old AU I made in like 2016 (Dragon Mom, its just Gravity Falls but a dragon adopted Stan shortly after the Portal Incident)

But now that im older and.....slightly more unhinged with AU stuff I'm rotating the idea of Dragons in Gravity Falls and kinda revamping the AU in my brain but I don't have time to write it atm but I wanna talk about it so have this very rough plot idea that I piece together (knowledge of the AU in 2016 is not needed....its very different now)

Ok, its a lil....outta left field but most of my AU shit is at this point

But anyway, things starts as a standard 'Stan took the journal AU' except Stan just vanishes and Ford doesn't really think anything of it because he TOLD Stan to keep the journal far away from everyone so he just focuses on protecting himself and the portal from Bill.

Cut to 30 years later and Ford has managed to put up the unicorn dome but he never leaves the house. He's published enough of his work to be recognized in the scientific community and is well off enough to not HAVE to leave the house but now he's also kinda a cranky old man because he doesnt have enough enrichment but hes terrified of Bill getting into his head so he stays inside and near the house, hardly ever contacts his family, missed a lot of stuff including his parents funerals and the birth of his nephew and his grand niblings.

But than, at the beginning of summer one year, his nephew called him up to let him know that he sent the kids his way because he and his wife dont want them around while they work out their divorce and they can't send the kids anywhere else....yaaay

Ford is not happy but it's kinda too late to send the kids back and he maybe feels a little bad for the two and has enough empathy to not want two 12-year-olds watch their parents fight over assets and custody and yadda yadda

So, Dipper and Mabel come and Ford is NOT a good caretaker. Oh, he makes sure they have a place to sleep and food and even talks to them sometimes but he holes up in his labs and studies a lot (where neither kid is allowed to enter) and he doesnt discourage them from going into the woods and DEFINITELY doesnt supervise them in the woods.

The kids are basically running wild until they bump into their first supernatural encounter and then they are even wilder because they run to tell Ford about the Gnomes and he is more than happy to tell the kids about aaaallll the crazy stuff in Gravity Falls and it's something the kids can FINALLY bond with him over so they go hunting for MORE anomolies.

And its fine at first until the kids find something thats actually dangerous. Theres a moment they're worried they got in over their heads but then the monster chasing them just vanishes?? And when they get back to the cabin, Mabel notices this little, rusty red lizard thing has followed them home and, of course, shes got to adopt it! 'He chose us Dipper! He followed us all the way home!"

Neither kid thinks to inform Ford of the new pet

Time passes, Mabels lizard seems to be doing a perry the platypus impression by vanishing when things get dicey and, weirdly, the danger vanishes too before the lizard reappears and this repeats until the FEDS show up trying to take grunkle Ford and DIpper starts a zombie uprising by accident and the kids and Ford are cornered and Ford is SUPER rusty when it comes to fighting supernatural stuff And then BOOM! Mabels little lizard scrabbles out of her arms and transforms into a dragon! Not a very big one but big enough to start mowing down zombies and give Ford and the kids enough time to get to the roof and use singing to defeat the zombies And now Ford is VERY interested in how and when Mabel found a dragon but the dragon seems very cold with Ford.

Oh, he LOVES the kids and is very tolerant of Dipper running round and round him and taking notes. Ford? The big guy avoids Ford like the plague when hes in dragon form and hisses at him constantly in the little lizard form. And Mabel makes more than one comment on how the dragon kinda looks like Grunkle Ford

Blah, blah, blah, plot stuff I havent thought about leads to the big twist of: Turns out, the Dragon is Stanley. Because before Ford sent that letter, this red cat had been following Stan around and when he came back with the journal and no will left to live she revealed herself to be a dragon and extended an offer for Stan to join her clan. One he accepted

So now, Stan is a dragon and Ford is convinced that Stan was tricked and keeps promising to fix him and Stan just rolls his eyes and plays with the kids

and somehow, Weridmageton still happens but Stan is a big magical dragon now and it turns out he can shift even BIGGER and is a big help in taking Bill down (I like the idea on true form Dragon Stan just....eating Bill....much to Ford awe and horror)

And more plot happens, maybe STan takes Mabel to the rest of the dragon clan because she's worried Dipper is going to stay in Gravity Falls and she'll be alone and Sheba (the dragon who recruited Stan/the Dragon Queen of the clan) gets to play therapist for the pines family issues

And eventually, the Stans make up, the twins make peace with each other and the insanity thay're about to go home to and, hey, turns out, Stan has a humanoid form too, perfect for sailing with his brother! Happy end where the Stans and Twins go visit a dragon clan every few months.

And thats what I got.

Well that, and a quick Dragon Stan concept

[atla-confessions]

I wish they would because it'd be funny as fuck but it might kill the mod

Lets put this in terms you might understand. Im going to repeat what you said, and then make a Katara 'critcism' of equal value

zk: aang is kind of inattentive and gets distracted easily

"Katara is kind of mean and gets really prideful and self-righteous"

These are two things Aang does, and two things Katara does, but if we made this Katara's entire fucking personality, that would be anti Katara

zk: aang yelling at toph was kinda shitty

"Katara making the blind comment at Toph was kinda shitty."

"Katara saying Sokka didnt love their mom like she did was kinda shitty."

The statement about Aang is true, as are these statments about Katara. If we were to call Katara a bad friend because of these, or toxic, or bring it up as reason that Katara isnt deserving of Aang, that would be anti Katara

zk: aang getting so jealous at the idea of Katara being with someone else that he would go into the Avatar state is kind of problematic

"Katara getting so jealous of Aang she says shes not going to come watch him ride the unagi to make sure hes okay is kind of problematic"

Neither of these statements are true. Both are ignoring the larger context and making their behavior out to be jealousy when its not. Aang was upset about the play as a whole. His comment about the avatar state was clearly not a literal thing, but him trying to express how upset the play as a whole has made him. Katara was upset Aang was being irresposible and letting the praise get to his head and didnt want to come watch him show off.

Aang doesnt even show any jealousy in this scene, zutara shippers just like making it about themselves. Aang doesnt mention Zuko once. Hes not thinking "Katara might have feelings for someone else" hes thinking "I dont know where I personally stand with Katara as she has been sending mixed signals." Which is, frankly, reasonable, even if he went about trying to express this in the wrong way. Thats not jealousy, thats a basic desire of wanting someone to communicate with you.

Painting Katara's frusteration and refusal to care about the potential of Aang getting hurt as just toxic jealousy would be anti Katara.

zk: here's a fic where aang faces consequences for burning Katara

Now, before I go into this one, lets remember the real consequences Aang faced, like getting jumped and slammed into the ground, like feeling so guilty as to swear off something he needs to save the world, like this incedent shown to be one of the things that haunt Aang the most when hes opening his chakras. Like this insident (incident? Im not looking it up rn) literally being the context in which he allows Zuko into their lives as he believes Zuko can help teach him firebending in such a way as to avoid ever hurting someone again.

Heres a list of things Katara did and did not face consequences for: abandoning Aang along with Sokka because Aang withheld a map for a few hours, stealing a waterbending scroll and sneaking to use it despite agreeing not to and putting everyone in danger, (she got saved and still got to keep the scroll, even made it very obvious she felt no remorse for this, I consider that not facing consequences), making Aang think Appa was sick, telling people Aang is the avatar because shes proud of it despite that putting Aang in danger many times, encouraging Aang to throw himself at problems with no help like Hei Bai and the NWT invasion, stealing appa after Aang said he did not want her to.

If someone were to write a fic where Aang's mistakes are ignored, and these mistakes of Katara's were emphasized and used as reasoning shes not good for Aang, to the point where they add consequences that didnt happen but could have happened, like Aang getting captured and/or hurt in order to make her feel guilty, that would be, say it with me, anti Katara.

When someone ephasizes or exaggerates a characters flaws while ignoring their good deeds and qualities, that is being anti, not fair criticism, especially if they do it while ignoring most of the flaws and mistakes another character has made and treating them as near perfect and a victim of the first character.

Most zutara shippers are not interested in analyzing the show for the sake of fair criticism of characters. If they were, they would be pointing out Katara's mistakes just as often as Aang's. They are only interested in justifying their dislike for Aang.

X