#delulus trying to be smart

[themoodyestj]

I am not big into SPN at all, just saw some of your posts on someone else's blog. I support you in saying whatever you want to say, and think it's fine to criticize famous people but -- I just think it might be worth it to consider if you're slipping into conspiracy thinking territory. We don't know anything about the lives of famous people other than what they explicitly tell us, and we really have no idea. It feels really weird to see someone as a stranger talk about how an actor doesn't actually love his wife, and calling her trashy and slutty (which is what was on the post that prompted me to click over, after having seen a few) is absolutely rooted in misogyny.

You can criticize her for things she does wrong, but that specifically feels messed up -- 'dressing slutty' is not a moral failure. Criticizing people by calling them ugly, too, is usually misogynistic when aimed at women, and kind of ruins your point: it's not a valid criticism, it just makes you sound hateful. Equating bad behavior to physical ugliness isn't a good habit. All it does is reflect back in shitty ways on people who share physical traits or style choices with the people you don't like, who haven't done anything wrong. If she's been shitty in other ways, ways people actually know about and not speculation, then sure, that's fair game to criticize and discuss, though you'll never know everything behind the scenes. But her looks have nothing to do with that. It's not intentional misogyny, I know, and it's really easy to fall back on because it's everywhere, but it's worth being aware of.

I haven't even seen a full season of Supernatural, so that's not what this is about, I couldn't care less about shipping for that show and I don't ship real people, personally. But I am really interested in celebrity conspiracy theories and some of your language has started sounding really familiar (anticonspiracist on tumblr has been a good resource.) I'm very 'we only know what we're told' with celebrities to an extreme extent, where I genuinely just do not speculate because even if I'm a big fan, if they haven't told anyone, it's not my business, and I'm not expecting everyone to do things exactly that way. There's a lot of middle ground, and I know I'm on the really far end. But I think we also have to step back and embrace that we don't really know these people, and they doubtless have a lot going on that we will never know about, including their personal relationships. Do what you want! But please at least consider if you can make your point in ways that don't unfortunately follow in the footsteps of a lot of misogynistic behavior and cruel comments on people's looks.

You probably won't reply to this, but that's fine. Again, I'm not really in the fandom, so I stumbled across you by coincidence, so I probably won't see your blog much again anyway. I know an essay like this is a weird thing and it might make you doubt that I'm actually an outsider. But I genuinely have no opinion on these people or ships in the fandom or whatever. I just have a lot of opinions on appropriate boundaries in fandom discussions and on unconscious bigotry. Anyway, I wish you the best, and hope your general life is going well.

You'd be wrong. I have no issue answering these posts, provided they are respectful. I have absolutely no problem commenting on my own behaviour and stance, just as I have no problemon commenting on others. That would make me a hypocrite, right? Let's see if I can answer all your points, since your post is very long.

I just think it might be worth it to consider if you're slipping into conspiracy thinking territory.

This is an opinion blog, after all. What I write is my own take on things, what i interpret of the things I see. Ultimately, it is no different from the people who defend Destiel, or talk about Jenneel with the couples goals hashtag. Im just on the other side of the spectrum. You considering this side close to "conspiracy theory" shows me already you have a preference, and maybe youre not so impartial after all. Besides, there is a major difference between me and other people out there: I have no intention on enforcing my opinion on anyone. People read me because they want to. My inbox, however, it's full of people trying to shut me down because it's a threat to their own beliefs.

You can criticize her for things she does wrong, but that specifically feels messed up -- 'dressing slutty' is not a moral failure. Criticizing people by calling them ugly, too, is usually misogynistic when aimed at women, and kind of ruins your point: it's not a valid criticism, it just makes you sound hateful.

This alone tells me that you haven't read my blog in its entirety, and have cherry picked the things you wanted to criticize (very poorly, I may add). The conversation would have been a lot more productive if you actually had good ground to support yourself on, instead of coming to criticize me with no real valid arguments.

I never said Danneel is ugly. I've said she is filled with Botox and it's unbecoming of her, but I too am entitled to have a personal opinion on someone's appearance, and not have a silly justice warrior come here to call me on it. I also complimented her on her new hair color. We do all have physical preferences, do we not? Why is expressing mine misogynistic?

As for dressing slutty, I am going to refer to something that I'll roughly translate from my language as "situational awareness". My remarks are based on the fact that, as the wife of someone famous, Danneel has the responsibility to represent her husband as well as herself, and understand that, although she is allowed to express her creativity, she should be mindful of the surroundings and proper situation. It's not wrong to wear a see-through dress to a party, but i find it tacky that she does it in a situation where pictures will be taken, pics her kids will see. Again, my personal opinion.

Besides, I feel perfectly ok criticizing someone who basically made "being a hot girl" her whole identity. Its the product im shown, it's the product I criticize. That simple. It's not like she's writing master's thesis and Im focusing only on her body.

Oh, and by the way, what about objectifying Jensen? Do you have an opinion on that? Really curious. To conclude, saying my opinion is not valid is the same as saying no opinion is valid because they will always rub someone wrong. So, no, its perfectly valid to me and the people who read me. The others are welcome to block. But I am really interested in celebrity conspiracy theories and some of your language has started sounding really familiar (anticonspiracist on tumblr has been a good resource.)

God, you are so in the wrong blog, then. Did you try Cynifer's blog? She even makes whole speeches on how people should complain and react. Or some AA blogs, where one of them can get completely drowned in criticism because they say something the others dont agree with. Those dont interest you? Oooo I'd really like to see your opinion on how they say Destiel isnt a real thing because the network is homophobic. Or why Jensen is homophobic because he said Destiel doesnt exist, there's a whole article written about it. No? No bells at all?

But please at least consider if you can make your point in ways that don't unfortunately follow in the footsteps of a lot of misogynistic behavior and cruel comments on people's looks.

Why? (laughter) Because it rubbed you the wrong way and you decided they had these qualities to invalidate me? Unfortunately for you, I still reserve myself the right to say what i want to say, as you reserve yourself the right to judge it in any way you want. As much as it may pain you, you are not the gatekeeper of social justice, so nice try.

Again, I'm not really in the fandom, so I stumbled across you by coincidence, so I probably won't see your blog much again anyway. I know an essay like this is a weird thing and it might make you doubt that I'm actually an outsider.

Well, at least there is some self awareness, that's good. Indeed, I highly doubt you wont read this. I cant imagine why a rational person with a life of their own would write such an essay with no intentions of having an asnwer. Besides, for someone who tried very hard to show they are impartial... you failed terribly. I cant even imagine someone wanting to conduct a proper study and writing an ask like you did. In my (perhaps misogynistic) opinion, it's complete garbage.

I just have a lot of opinions on appropriate boundaries in fandom discussions and on unconscious bigotry. Anyway, I wish you the best, and hope your general life is going well. Thank you! I hope your life goes well as well. And for the sake of adding more content to your "study", i invite you to read more of my posts, especially the ones with anon asks. You'll find a lot of lunacy there. But unfortunately, you overlooked those. Perhaps because they didnt fit "your study". Ah well.

[sailforvalinor]

The thing is I want an accurate but GOOD Mansfield Park adaptation so so bad but I don’t trust anyone except for 5 or 6 people on this webbed site in the depths of the undercity of the internet to make it because NO ONE understands Edmund Bertram except for me, the author, and a handful of my beloved mutuals and friends

[clairehadenough]

I’m talking about the persons who flight track, stalk IG accounts, watch follows,location changing, analysis and over analysis everything to dead. // maddy has done all those things and more. i still have all her insulting editing and photoshop pictures she did but claire i know you wont acknowlege this and i know you will delete my post. hypocrite rolls togheter

Look I know you’re all extra annoyed at Maddy these days because she’s been teasing the heck out of you, and I know y’all are scared of whatever she’ll serve you with. So I know where you’re coming from, it must be horrible living in fear like that. That being said, I would like to quote your beautiful ask when you said ‘Maddy has done all those things’. Yes she did and it was stupid and low. But just as you admitted yourself, she has done this in the past and has since stopped. She stopped and apologised. Does that make what she did go away? No. Does that make her better than you? Yes. Because you are using her past actions to prove that she is bad. Problem is that she stopped and y’all haven’t. So by your own admission, you lot are the guilty ones here as you are still going on with these childish and stupid and frankly sometimes scary actions. Thing is I’m very surprised since YOU KNOW lots of things about me, but you still mentioned that subject even though I’ve addressed it countless times already. You must be a bit slow. You’ll get there though don’t worry. I believe in you ❤️

[bananami]

A little couple's trivia with Nanami proves that he knows you all too well.

I did use the term wife and she/her pronouns just as a brief cw. The whole thing is just fluff. Nanami is in love with you. That's the whole things.

(I am delulu and in love with this man. Hope this helps us all heal. He is alive and well and no one can convince me otherwise. Also I love including Gojo's dumbass in everything. Also Yuji is a sweetheart and Nanami's son basically.)

"Please?" You're practically begging your husband, who doesn't seem to be budging.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Yeah Nanamin-"

"Don't call me that." Nanami cuts Gojo off immediately.

"But Yuji calls you that!"

"That's different." He glares at the white haired man like he's trying to eviscerate him with just his eyes. "And I'm not playing some stupid game just to prove how well I know my wife." He tries to pay attention to the paperwork in front of him again, wanting to finish it before 5pm. Because there was no way he was working overtime again today.

"Scared?" Gojo baited him. "Afraid I'm gonna ask you a question that's just too hard?"

"Gojo, there is nothing you could ask me about my wife that I wouldn't be able to answer."

A few of the students sat around watching the two go back and forth, inevitably waiting for Nanami to either get so annoyed that he walked away, or to take the bait. They hoped for the latter.

"Prove it! Or you forfeit your marriage."

"That's not how that works."

"C'mon Nanamin, it's just a game." Yuji gives the blonde sorcerer a sincere smile, hoping to lighten the mood and sway his decision just a bit.

"Don't call him Nanamin, Yuji- OW." Gojo is cut off as Nanami reaches over and smacks him in the head with the papers in his hand.

"Don't tell him what to do." Nanami sighs and rubs at his temple. He looks at the clock, then at you. It's the look in your eyes that gives way to his final decision. "Fine. You have until that clock reads 5, and then I'm taking my wife and we're going home."

Gojo wastes no time. "Who is your wife's favorite person? And think before you say yourself because-"

"Itadori. Next question."

"I'm your favorite person?!" Yuji jumps from his seat, latching his arms around you for a hug. It's obvious from the way that you smile and hug him back that Nanami is probably definitely right. You had a soft spot for the kid since you met him, playfully telling everyone that you and Nanami had basically adopted him since he arrived at Jujutsu High. Nanami would probably never verbalize it, but you could tell he felt the same about the boy.

"Ok, ok. Next question." Gojo thought hard before coming up with it. "How does your wife take her coffee?"

"She doesn't drink coffee."

"Yes she does, I bring her some like every morning."

"And she gives that coffee to me because she doesn't like it."

"You're telling me I've been buying you coffee this entire time?"

"I make her tea every morning when we get to work. You hand her the coffee, we trade cups. I don't understand how you've stared right at us when we do it and you somehow haven't noticed."

"Ok, then what tea does she drink?"

"Earl Grey, three sugars, a little bit of milk at the top. She'll say she's ok with English Breakfast or Lady Earl Grey if they're out of the regular. She's not, she's just being polite. She'll drink half and throw it away when she thinks no one is looking."

Gojo groans, not having as much fun as he thought he was going to at the beginning of all of this. "And I just bet you have a contingency plan for when your wife doesn't get her tea, don't you?"

"Of course I do," he ignores the even louder groan from Gojo, "I walk across the street to the cafe that sells her favorite pastries and I buy her five because I know that she'll want to share with her students and she'll try to split one with me even if I refuse. They have teabags they leave out so long as you're ordering something. Earl Grey, always in stock."

"Adorable." Gojo rolls his eyes.

"You're so smart, Nanamin!" Yuji jumps in. "Let me ask one! What's her favorite color?"

"Yuji, that's too easy."

"Yellow."

"Ohhhh, mine too," Yuji says, "why yellow?"

"Because it's-" Nanami stops mid-sentence and looks at the clock, like it will give him an excuse. Almost. "We don't need to worry about the why, that wasn't the original question."

Gojo perks up, clearly realizing he'd struck a nerve. And he was ready to work it. The red dusting across Nanami's cheeks told him everything he needed to know. "Are you embarrassed, Nanami?"

"Shut up, Gojo."

"Or do you just not know the answer? It's ok if you don't, I guess you just don't know your wife as well as you thought you did."

"If you don't stop talking, I'm going to tell everyone about the one time in high school when you and Geto got caught in the-"

"OK!" Gojo turns back to the students and motions them toward the door. "Time to go! Don't you all have something better to do? Go be little trouble makers somewhere. Go TP Yaga's lawn or something. Get out of here."

He'd ushered everyone out except Yuji, who stayed behind to wait for you and Nanami. The boy shyly looked away as you kissed Nanami's cheek before standing up, stating you just needed to grab your bag before you could leave.

Yuji waited for you to exit the room before he asked. "Is it because of your hair?"

Nanami sighs. "What makes you think that?"

Yuji just shrugs. "She loves you. Answers don't always need a complex reason."

Nanami can't help the smile that graces his face. "You're a smart kid sometimes, you know that?"

"That's why I'm her favorite!" His goofy nature is back in an instant. "Can I come over for dinner again tonight?"

"Of course you can."

"Can I stay over?"

"If you'd like to."

"Can I pick the movie we watch?"

"Don't push your luck."

[imaginechb]

Things the fandom often forgets about Jason Grace:

His mother abandoned him at 2 and he survived training with the wolf goddess Lupa at 3

He isn't some dumbass bro himbo like a lot of people think, he's actually really smart and knows a lot of things

He wears glasses and loses them a lot

He's one of the kindest demigods in both camps

He defeated the titan Krios with his bare f*cking hands

AND he killed the trojan sea monster

He isn't the "roman percy", and he's not some knockoff protagonist

He isn't trying to replace or compete with Percy

Percy and Jason actually hardly know each other and there really isn't much of a bromance there like people think (but if you wanna keep being delulu I respect it)

He toppled the black throne of Kronos and earned his position as praetor

He was literally praetor

Which led to him hardening a bit and put a lot of pressure on him to be a perfect leader

He once jumped into the grand canyon to save a girl he really didn't know that well, with no regard to the fact that he would literally die

HE LITERALLY DIDNT KNOW HE COULD FLY

He isn't boring, it's just that when we meet him in TLH we literally don't know him (and he doesn't either lmfao), we don't have the history and bond we do with Percy

He has a big smile and deep laugh

Jason didn't replace Percy at CHB, people were actually apprehensive of him whereas CJ pretty much DID replace Jason with Percy (treating him as a powerful leader and electing him praetor)

He was literally a child soldier and probably has a lot of issues because of this

He used to squint a lot before he got his glasses

People probably thought he was glaring or judging them, but in actuality he just couldn't f*cking SEE

He's actually a big softie and gives such golden retriever vibes

Canonically handsome

People think he's too perfect but that's because he had to be. He had so much pressure on him to be perfect all the time

He has a calm and steady voice, and even when he's yelling/speaking intensely, it's still steady and strong

TLDR; Jason is literally my fav and Jason hate will not be tolerated here thank you 🫶

[hrtbeomi]

WHEN THEIR S/O IS ON HER PERIOD ⟳ ۪ ׂ 𓈒 ʾʾ

a/n. old repost from my old acc (ihrtrep) .ᐟ btw, i'm on my period too so i'm at a delulu state rewriting this 🙈

wc. 0.4k warnings. mention of menstruation (obv), cramps, period jokes that aren't funny, not proofread .ᐟ

𖤐 CHOI YEONJUN

i think yeonjun would be the type of boyfriend that would try to help you in any way he can, he would do a care package with everything you might need, would try to cook something for you, and then would lay next to you and cuddle while watching a movie or a series. if you have low self-esteem because of the period he would absolutely say loving and comforting words to you.

“you are the most beautiful woman i've ever seen and i'll kick your period's ass if it lets you feel like this again, okay?”

“i'm going to cry because of you, jjunie!”

“well, you deserve all the love and care, especially now,” he said before kissing your cheek and cuddle with you.

i just love him <33

𖤐 CHOI SOOBIN

when i tell you this man would try and say shit like he's a teacher of 6th graders explaining why menstruation is something important in a woman's life and is nothing to be ashamed of, I MEAN IT.ᐟ he doesn't care if you've already known this for a long long time, he will tell you again in case you forgot.

but even with his "wise words", he'll try to be there for you if you need anything but in reality he's scared shitless that you might snap at him and make him cry with your «mean menstruation words» as he names it.

𖤐 CHOI BEOMGYU

beomgyu would freak out and would try to call one of the members for help, he obviously called taehyun (the most logical one) and he just told him to give you some chocolate or something warm to put in your uterus in case it hurts because of the cramps. beomgyu was super confused as to why he knew all of this and he, who did have a girlfriend, didn't but he did all that tae said at the end and you were so thankful for that.

we know he has a playful manner so if you're in a bad mood, he would try to make you laugh with bad period jokes instead of laughing at your pain.

“what kind of bikes do girls ride?”

“what?”

“menstrual cycles”

𖤐 KANG TAEHYUN

the most smart one, he knows what to do and knows he shouldn't even say you are on your period unless he wants to die. he would cook your favorite meal, would buy you heat patches for your cramps, and would be pretty attentive to you, utterly the best boyfriend you could ever ask for <3

bonus .ᐟ has a calendar app for your cycle and to make sure to buy pads, tampons, menstrual cup (wtvr you use).

𖤐 HUENING KAI

PHYSICAL TOUCH !! he would love to just lay down with you and rub your belly to ease your cramps, would be the type of boyfriend who has such a connection with you that would live your period as if he has it too, i feel like hyuka would be that kind of boyfriend who does a pajama day and stays in bed til' the night with you, watching movies and muting his phone to stay focused on you and only you.

if you have cravings at like— 3:00am and you don't have that one thing you want in your house, he would go out to the nearest convenience store and buy it ><

© HRTBEOMI 2024

[pierregazly]

i know places ꨄ charles leclerc smau

charles leclerc x fem!reader

or 4 times charles soft launched you, and the one time he hard launched you so hard it almost caused whiplash

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, arthur_leclerc, joris__trouche, and 430,230 others

charles_leclerc happy summer break 😁

view all 3,400 comments

username ummm???

username that last photo im gonna throw up i never want him to post a photo dump again

username what about OUR family charles? ME, your wife? OUR imaginary kids?

joris__trouche i hope you paid your photographer

charles_leclerc she said it was a free trial

username there's literally no way charles 'i am stupid' leclerc knows how to soft launch this has to be a joke

username i hope this brings ferrari such awful luck... no man who soft launches like this deserves happiness

charles_leclerc

liked by arthur_leclerc, yourusername, landonorris, and 320,540 others

charles_leclerc new song releasing at midnight tonight on all platforms, we hope you'll like it 🎶

view all 2,340 comments

username i cant wait to be depressed for the rest of the week thank u charles

username im sorry... WE? who is WE?

username omg... is this a piano duet... between charles and his girlfriend???

joris__trouche i hope you're sharing the royalties

charles_leclerc nosy man

username the fact he's giving us literal crumbs like we have NOTHING to go off of

username he's just smarter than the rest of us, not letting us creep his girl

charles_leclerc

liked by pierregasly, mickschumacher, yourusername, and 650,392 others

charles_leclerc what an incredible weekend in singapore. honoured to have had all the people i love with me this weekend for this win. i can never do this without you.

view all 5,321 comments

username do u think he put 'i can never do this without you' in a whole different sentence because it's directed at HER

username idk if i should call u delulu or smart bc 👀

username i am so fed up with this soft launch, stop being a coward and show her to us!!!

username comments like these are prolly why he's only soft launching... he doesn't want crazy fans to pull what they did with lando and luisa lol

pierregasly je suppose que ton porte-bonheur fait son travail 👀

charles_leclerc 🥰😁

charles_leclerc

liked by joris__trouche, pierregasly, landonorris and 692,941 others

charles_leclerc an extra special christmas, with an extra special person. joyeux noël to you all, may santa spoil you as much as he has spoiled me 🎅🏻

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pierregasly joyeux noël from kika and i, looking forward to spending time with the both of you in the new year 🥂

joris__trouche impressive that this soft launch is still going, only ever seen you this dedicated about cars

username not joris saying exactly what we all have been thinking

username i cant believe no one has found her on anything

username charles hasn't given us anything to go off of, its like he's trying to make it difficult to find her

username omg y'all it HAS to be yourusername her story is them literally kissing!!!! im gonna scream!!!!!!

username she's followed by half the grid!!! kika has liked all her post over the last 2 YEARS omg

yourusername has posted a story

liked by charles_leclerc, francisca.cgomes, username, and 434 others

replies

charles_leclerc honoured to have been the one to kiss you for the last three christmases, hoping for hundreds more

charles_leclerc

tagged yourusername

liked by pierregasly, yourusername, arthur_leclerc, and 1,235,029 others

charles_leclerc apparently i forgot to introduce the world to my beautiful wife? joyeux anniversaire mon amour 💗

view all 6,421 comments

username your WHAT

username his WIFE?!

username there is no way mr 'i am stupid' has hidden a whole WIFE and a whole MARRIAGE from us

pierregasly merde i am so excited to finally post the photos from your wedding

yourusername honoured to have spent the last year as mrs. charles leclerc, hoping for so many more

charles_leclerc hoping for forever

username MRS CHARLES LECLERC PLS IM KSFJHK

username i am screaming and throwing up, not even crying i cant even be heartbroken????

landonorris emotionally im not okay

yourusername you were at the wedding??? landonorris i love love, shut up.

if you've already seen this i apologize lol, i think there was some formatting issues with the prev post which resulted in it not showing up in the tags :( so total apologies for that! i hope you enjoy!! (i dont want to retag everyone and be annoying as well) if you'd like to be added to my tag list please feel free to reach out

also my requests are open if you're interested!

[g3llyfish]

Hey I wanted to request something funny.

Like redson and macaque ( separately ) kidnaps one of mk’s friends, fem s/o and they start laughing ( not like mocking them ) but more like ( I can’t believe this happened ) while saying “ no no I’m sorry..it’s just..this is the most effort a man has ever put into me 😂 “

Idk i thought it was funny in my head 🤔 hope this was okay

"DELUSIONAL"

Redson x FEM! reader x Macaque (Seperate)

Either platonic or romantic

Redson and Macaque judging the reader, Reader being delulu, MK just wants his best friend back TT

NOTE:

MY FIRST ASJ AAA Tbh, it can also be considered as GN!reader cause I mostly do second pov but I still hope you enjoy!!

🔥 || REDSON !!

It has been a few week of him trying to defeat the noodle boy to get his staff

As expected, he fails again and again, machines after machines being crushed by that stupid staff and that stupid monkey boy

Knowingly that there's no use for his machines since they only go to his scrap corner

Until an idea pops up in his big demon smart boy brain

What if he kidnaps someone who is dear to MK and bargain them for the staff!

I mean, if that stupid noodle boy loves his friends so much he would do everything to get his best friend back!

Brilliant! Amazing plan even!

Meanwhile, you were hanging out with Mei and MK in the anti-gravity arcade, having the greatest time if your life

Until the ceiling broke down...

You were immediately grabbed by the demon bull clones and tied up so you wouldn't escape.

     "Redson?! Get back here with our best friend!" MK shouted at the bull prince who has you in his arms as you struggle.

     "Never! Catch me if you can, noodle boy and dragon horse girl!" Redson yells back as he laughs dramatically and surrounds him, you, and the bull clones with his fire to teleport away.

     Now you are hung from the ceiling in his lair, if that's what you like to call it considering the lava pool, tools, materials, engines, and many more are laying around the gigantic room.

     "Let me go!" You demanded "What are you planning now, Redson? Y'know MK is gonna MK.O!!™ you again right?"

     Redson scoffs a laugh, lifting up his welding mask to look up at your hanging state as he puts down his blowtorch.

     "After I finish my invention, we will go up to the mountain where my father was imprisoned..." He started to monologue "and then... I will exchange your life for the staff! ...that noodle boy cares for you so much that he will give it to me willingly! And once I have the staff is mine... MY FATHER WILL GAIN HIS POWER AND BE THE GREATEST RULER OF THE WORLD!"

     Redson's dark and overdramatic laughs echoes through the room as the lava's light reflected behind him, creating a giant menacing shadow of himself on the walls.

     Meanwhile you only blink twice at him, not being effected by the intimidating aura that the prince made.

     "You think I'm worth more than the staff?" "What"

     "Well, you basically said that I'm the same price as the staff... Do you think I'm that special?" You grin at him while he was only flabbergasted by your words.

     "W-what?! NO YOU IDIO--" "I don't know, like, you kidnapping me, thinking that I'm enough to be exchanged with the staff, you could've picked Mei but you chose me!"

     Redson gave you a dumbfounded look, his eyebrows furrowing in frustration as you explain your conclusion.

     "Like, you took effort to kidnap me, you think I'm that worth of effort? No one has ever done that for me" You continue as you sniffle a bit.

     "Did-did you forget about the part where I said about my world domination?" Redson simply ask as he gives you a deadpanned stare.

     "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I'm just so happy right now, you think I'm worth more than the staff? You think I'm that unique?" "Shut up, you're delusional."

While he made his invention to secure his plan, you were in the background trying to make him admit that he thinks you're special

You're not what he thinks you are that's for sure, with you being a giggling mess while you're LITERALLY CAPTURED BY TYE DEMON BULL PRINCE

He expected you to be like MK and Mei, someone who wrecklessly fighting anything that move...

Not someone who is off to delulu land with quips at the back of your hand

He definitely regrets the kidnapping plan

🍌 || MACAQUE !!

After the 'stealing-wukong's-powers-from-MK' plan didn't work, he couldn't find anymore information or updates in MK's life

Macaque has to keep a close eye on him afterall, considering he is Wukong's apprentice

So why not get one of MK's best friends? He can't just lurk in the shadows

Sure, that'll work but he needs more dept and personal stuff about MK, to find something to hold him back

So while you were on your way back home, not paying attention to your surroundings that was when Macaque took the opportunity.

You took a step and before you knew it, you were falling down to the ground into a theater place for shadow puppet shows.

You landed on your back on the wooden ground, making you raise your brow in confusion cause you remember that you were walking on a pedestrian.

As you look around the place, you hear a dark echoey chuckle from behind you making the hair on your skin rise.

You stood up immediately to see none other than the shadow of the six-eared Macaque.

"Hey, doll..." He chuckles again, his grin getting wider as his shadow shrinks and he turns into his monkey form.

"Macaque?! What am I doing here?! Are you here to hurt me?! Well bad luck, monkey!" You glared at him making him smirk.

"Don't worry, don't worry, I'm not here to hurt you, I'm just here to borrow you for a while" Macaque says shrugging, getting closer towards the stage that you stood on.

"Me?" You ask in full confusion, your body relaxing as you put down your defenses.

"Mhm... You see, hiding in the shadow is not enough for getting information and I need you get me some," Macaque answers.

You pause as each side of your lips starts to slowly rise, "Me?"

"Yup, if you don't comply... then I might take back the 'I won't hurt you' part, simple, hm?" Macaque threatens with a hum.

You pause again, longer this time "me?"

"Yes, you..." Macaque sighs as he gives you a 'are you deaf?' look.

You held your laugh for a while before laughing aloud, Macaque, ofcourse felt as if you're underestimating him as he gets a little grumpy at your reaction.

"Wh- why are you laughing huh?!" "Pfft-- sorry! Sorry, sorry, it's just... I don't know it's funny"

"Funny how?" Macaque ask as he raises his eyebrow in frustration and crosses his arms.

"I don't know, you could've chosen anyone that could stalk MK for you but you chose me! Hah! I just didn't expect that someone would actually put effort on me" you laugh out.

"Effort?" Macaque questions, he wouldn't disagree with himself but he's definitely worried for your well-being.

"Yeah, I mean, you could've just sended me a text saying 'give me information or you're dead' text like my other exes, but here we are!" You continue to blabber making Macaque give you a concerned look.

"I-what..." "Yeah! I'm kinda flattered that you put so much effort on me, kidnapping me, tracking me down, watching which street I go to-- okay that's kinda creepy--" "okay, stop"

Macaque has to make you stop so he can continue his plan

He's mostly concerned about you cause who tf reacts like that?

He had to make a deal with you to proceed with his 'information gathering' plan but you always gawk at the fact that he chose you out of all people

Plan unsuccessful (?)

I'm sorry if it isn't to your expectations TT tell me criticisms if you'd like but I still hope you had fun with the fix as much as I did, love you pooksters :P

[thaleleah]

𝓗𝓾𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Academy!Reader

Warnings: Dub-Con, Seduction/Manipulation, Oral (female and male receiving), Handjob, Food Play (feeding each other/licking stuff off bodies, but its more of a seduction tactic), Finger Sucking, Ruined Orgasm, Slight Overstimulation, Slight Dacryphilia Kink, Reader is spoiled and delulu, Sub!Coriolanus

**Based off this irl porn post (takes you to Twitter/X).

Word Count: 10K

A/N: Literally just started the book today so Coriolanus is probs wayyyy out of character but . . . just go with it lol. I wanted him to be ✨subby✨

Summary: When you find out that the great Coriolanus Snow is not as financially well off as he makes himself out to be, you can't help but take advantage of his vulnerability.

Hunger is a weapon - every Capitol citizen knows this. 

It’s the most useful piece of knowledge used when carving down an enemy. The people in the districts need to be taught fear, obedience for their devastating betrayal to the Capitol. If they thought they knew oppression before the First Rebellion . . . well, they just didn’t know how good they had it. 

Things are back as they should be now. The Capitol stands at the top of the hierarchy, the districts fumbling below in their failure as they suffer their punishments and try to make amends in order to have the favor of those in charge. 

Your family was lucky, surviving the war with minimal losses and maintaining your excessive wealth in the process. It’s a life of luxury for you - one of comfort and ease. You want for nothing, desire for nothing that you can’t have in a split second with a snap of your fingers or a hopeful, doe-eyed pout at your father.  

Nothing, except one thing. 

Him. 

Coriolanus Snow.

He walks with such confidence, lean body moving gracefully and an air of arrogant smugness following him around as he vies for the Plinth Prize. He’s smart, very smart - top of the class at the Academy, and you can’t help but admit that you find his intelligence extremely attractive. 

He’s beautiful, angelic blond curls always strategically fluffed, the perfect contrast to the Academy’s rouge uniforms. And sometimes, when he’s leaning down to scribble in his notebook during class, a few rogue curls will fall across his forehead and into those eyes - those eyes that sparkle despite his constant controlled and put together facade. You want those eyes on you. Want them to see you, follow you around as you walk the halls of the Academy, never leaving your visage as you sit prettily in class, back straight and legs crossed under your desk - your posture a solid reminder of your high stature within society. 

You want them wet with tears, pupils blown wide as he stares up at you while you ride him, hard and fast as his mouth begs for mercy despite his pretty blue eyes begging for more.

You’re a prize, he’d be lucky to have you - and yet, whenever he looks your way, it’s with disdain. 

You’re a fucking goddess, beauty unmatched. He should be falling at your feet just to get a second of your time. But no, instead he ignores you, never once looking your way other than when studiously listening to your response to a question asked during class before those blue eyes make their way back to the professor. They never linger, never once. And that realization makes your blood boil.

He’s smart, but you’re smart too - spite and bitterness reenergizing your academic drive. He wants the Plinth Prize and you want him. So you do the only thing that you can think of that will ensure his focus lands on you no matter what.

You go for the Plinth Prize too.

You’re on his ass in academics - every test and every project leading you closer and closer to over taking him for the win. His eyes can’t leave you now, always following you, narrowed and hateful as you smile smugly back at him. Sometimes you think you can see fear in them, like he can physically feel your sharp, manicured nails digging into the vulnerable balloon of his dreams and can hear the shallow hiss of escaping air through the punctures. 

You hope he can feel your metaphorical breath on the back of his neck.

The mid semester review comes around and classes are canceled for the rest of the day as professors meet with their students to go over their academic standings. You walk into the building just minutes before your scheduled meeting time, bag slung over your shoulder and a dried fruit bar in your hand as you climb the stairs towards Professor Rosebloom’s office. Normally, you would be at least 15 minutes early, punctuality and proper time management drilled into you from a young age. However, Professor Rosebloom likes her schedules, the exact measurements of time, and plans out each class and meeting down to the minute. It’s useless to assume there’s any wiggle room for early arrivals or dismissals. It’s not beneficial - not when the door to her office won’t open again until the very moment it hits your scheduled appointment time. So you take your time climbing the stairs, taking a bite of your snack bar when you see him. 

He’s leaning against one of the pillars in the middle of the hall, back pressed against the rounded edge as he bites into a cookie. He looks stressed, body rigid as he chews, the back of his hand coming up to wipe at his mouth after each bite. You smirk, eyes narrowed in glee as you stalk towards him like a predator sneaking up on her prey. His mind is elsewhere, completely unaware of you coming up next to him until his gaze falls to your shadow overtaking his own along the glossy floor. 

He has only a second for his brain to register your presence before you speak, a smooth and sweet, “Coriolanus,” that nevertheless has him jumping in his spot against the pillar. 

You watch as he fumbles the cookie in his hand, the half eaten treat falling to the ground, breaking into smaller pieces under the impact. His face is rather comical as he stares down at the ruined cookie, eyes wide and mouth agape, and you swear you see his hand twitch just the slightest bit as if he was going to pick it up off the dirty floor before he takes a deep breath and those piercing blue eyes cut to you. 

“What?” He asks, voice sharp.

“Aw, sorry to make you drop your snack,” You say, feigning sympathy. “It looked yummy,”

His eyes fall shut for a moment, long eyelashes creating shadows along the top of his cheeks as he fights for composure. “It was,”

“You should have saved it for after your meeting,” You say, stepping closer to him, just far away enough to still be considered a proper amount of space, but close enough for him to have to tilt his head downwards to maintain eye contact. “As a condolence for when you hear that I’m the top student and a shoo-in for the Plinth Prize and not you.”

A low rumble bursts from his throat and he pushes off of the pillar to tower over you, glaring down at your shorter figure as he growls, “That’s not going to happen,”

His closeness makes your heart race, and you want nothing more than to drop the fruit bar from your hand and tangle your fingers into his fluffy hair. You’d do it too - would risk everything, the perfect image you’ve cultivated and the resulting embarrassment of seeming needy - if only you knew he would reciprocate. But he’s stubborn, you don’t know, and your pride gets in the way of any impulsive decision you might make, no matter how hot the desire burns through your veins. 

Instead, you bring the snack bar up to your mouth, perfect white teeth sinking into the sticky bar as you keep your eyes locked on his. Your intense focus on him is the only reason you see how his eyes falter from yours, the furious fire in them dimming into a softer need as they fall to your mouth. 

Your glossed lips pull into a smirk. Finally, finally, he’s getting the picture. You knew it was only a matter of time. He was a man after all, and men are weak when it comes to the wiles of women. It was bound to happen, no one with eyes or any sense of a brain would be able to resist you for too long - Coriolanus was just a slight exception. 

But you’ve got him now, can see in his eyes how badly he wants you. His eyes are locked on your lips, following the movement as they press together and move as you chew. The bright light in the hall is probably glittering off of them right now, making them look even more plush and enticing as it glistens off the thin layer of gloss that coats them. He’s probably thinking about how much he wants to kiss them right now. Imagining them wrapped around his cock and how soft they would feel as you plant sweet and teasing kisses along his shaft before taking him completely into your warm mouth. He’s probably kicking himself, wondering how he could have been so stupid as to push you away for as long as he has when he could have had you all to himself this whole time. 

All the time he’s wasted because of his pride and ego. 

The hand holding the fruit bar lowers slightly, teasing words of victory on the tip of your tongue as you open your mouth to gloat about your obvious success and his pathetic loss as he succumbs to his own desire for you. But you freeze when his wanting gaze doesn’t stay on your lips like you expect. Instead, they fall with the snack bar, following the food source like a puppy waiting for its master to grace them with a treat, and your words die before they can make a sound. 

The food? Seriously? He was looking at the food?!

As if on cue, his stomach growls. He snaps out of his daze at the sound, a hand shooting up to press against his belly as if trying to quiet the noise. 

You stare at him incredulously, eyebrow arched in disbelief. “Hungry much?”

He scoffs. “I missed breakfast this morning and now you’ve made me drop my snack. So, yes. I’m hungry.”

His words come out confident - practiced and dismissive in the way they would lead someone to believe his verbal jab in a heartbeat. But you’re too close to him right now for it to have the same effect that it normally would. You’re too observant, too eagle-eyed when it comes to all things Coriolanus, and now you're kicking yourself for not noticing it sooner. 

The way his eyes flash with a moment of panic before they roll in annoyance, feigned annoyance, because there’s still nervousness clear in those beautiful blue orbs. The way they can’t help but flick just for the quickest of seconds towards the bar still in your hand and your own snap down to the movement of his stomach as he sucks in his belly, an obvious attempt at trying to use the muscle movement to starve off another growl. 

The buttons on his shirt aren’t completely round, you notice. They do a good job at pretending to be, but under further inspection you realize that some are more oval than round. A couple are even slightly jagged. They remind you of the tesserae tiles you’ve seen in the maid’s bathroom - nearly a perfect match. Your critical gaze follows the rest of the length of his body, looking for anything else that suddenly seems off about the only son of the great Crassus Snow. Years ago, your father had mentioned rumors that the Snow family might not be in the most opulent financial standing. You hadn’t believed him at the time, the Snow family had always seemed very well off whenever you would see them around the Capitol or at events. Coriolanus had never once let on that they were living in anything less than a life of luxury during all your shared time at the Academy. 

And yet, when you reach his feet, it becomes an undeniable reality. There, on the feet of the boy who you’ve been lusting over for the better part of two years, is a pair of too tight and just this side of too worn shoes.

You’re just barely able to hold back your gasp at the realization. He’s always been thin, but you chalked that up to him just being tall and lanky. But this? This is so unexpected. 

Coriolanus Snow is . . . impoverished? Penniless. 

Needy. 

The idea comes to mind before you can even think about it, eyes sliding back up to meet his as you take another slow and mocking bite of your fruit bar. 

“What will you do?” You ask, tilting your head to the side in question, slowly chewing the sweet treat. “When I win the Plinth Prize,”

“You won’t,” He answers quickly, and the raw determination in his voice makes you grin.

You take another quick bite of your bar and offer a small shrug of your shoulder. “Why don’t we be smart about this, Coriolanus? Put aside our teeth gritting rivalry in exchange for some good old fashioned, friendly competition.”

“What are you suggesting?” He asks, suspiciously. 

“You can come to my home this weekend. We can study together. Make it a fair fight for our next exam,” And then, casual as ever, you add, “I’ll make sure we have lots of snacks at our disposal. Fuel for our brains, yes?”

Coriolanus pauses, clearly torn, and it’s unbelievable how someone who's always put on the face of confidence and self-assuredness can have their mask slip so carelessly so many times within a few minutes of interaction. 

The door to Professor Rosebloom’s office opens and out comes a disgruntled looking Festus Creed. He glances at you and Coriolanus standing just feet away from the door, but surprisingly has nothing to say for once as he walks past and down the hall towards the grand staircase. Professor Rosebloom stands at the door, calling your name and gesturing inside her office with a sharp nod. 

You look back at Coriolanus, a sickeningly sweet smile on your face as you walk backwards towards Professor Rosebloom. “Tomorrow, okay? See you then!”

The feeling of his eyes boring into you as you turn and disappear into Rosebloom’s office makes you feel unstoppable. 

Coriolanus arrives at your house the next day around mid-morning. 

He greets your parents respectfully, sharing a firm handshake with your father and nodding kindly at your mother, thanking them for allowing him into their home for the day and politely ignoring the looks of displeasure they both send him behind their masks of well-mannered hosts. 

You guide him up the stairs to your bedroom and sit yourself on the bed, smirking when he stands awkwardly in the doorway, one hand gripping the strap of his messenger bag. 

It’s so interesting to see him out in public, without the guise of an event or school trip to dictate what he wears. Today he dons a regular pair of pants, nice fitting around the waist and legs, but just a little too short around the ankles. You’re not sure if you would have noticed it had you not been looking. His sweater is a deep burgundy, thin lines of golden embroidery stitched around the collar and wrists to give an otherwise simple garment a taste of class. You don’t even want to look down at his shoes. If his nice dress shoes were looking tight and worn, you don’t want to see what his casual shoes look like. 

It doesn’t matter anyway, everything he’s wearing is going to be on your floor in a little while anyway. 

“Sit down, Coriolanus,” You instruct, pulling a book from your own bag and laying it out on the bed in front of you. “Don’t be shy.”

He takes a quick look behind him, checking to make sure your parents aren’t trying to spy from the hallway to catch them in the act of anything inappropriate despite this being a genuine study ‘date’ - at least on his part anyway. They won’t. Your father will be leaving for a lunch meeting in the city soon, and your mother will use the time to meet with her lover in one of the barely used guest bedrooms while he’s away. 

Coriolanus clears his throat before walking over to the bed, sitting tall on the edge, one of his legs bent at the knee to twist himself to face you while the other leg hangs off the side.

“We should start with the top three points that we think are the most important of each chapter,” he says. He pulls his book and a small notebook out of his bag before placing it on the ground next to the bed and out of the way. “And then we can discuss and expand on each point together.”

“Sounds good,” You nod. “Let’s begin.”

Studying has never been difficult for you. You find yourself blessed with a remarkable brain and an even more determined sense of spite that makes remembering factual information simple. Thoughts of Coriolanus often plague your mind during your study sessions. He is, after all, the reason why you study so hard in the first place. But when the thoughts get too much, thoughts of kissing those plush lips of his, whispering dirty things in his ear and having him moan filth back to you - wanting to thread your fingers into his golden hair and push his head down so it fits between your thighs where it belongs . . . A power break, you call it. A moment of respite from studying in order to take power over your overflowing desire for the only man who’s been able to resist your temptations so far. Your hand would find its way inside your pants or underneath your dress, fingers dipping into your drenched hole and rubbing furiously at your clit imagining it was his until the pent up release sets you free and you're able to focus on your work again. 

But with him actually being here, here in front of you, it’s a bit more difficult. Your pen stopped writing a while ago, eyes locked on the way his lashes flutter against his cheeks with each blink as he focuses on his notes. He bites his lip sometimes, teeth pressing into the plump flesh before he seems to catch himself and releases it, leaving behind twin red marks in the skin that you wish were imprints of your teeth instead of his. Your eyes travel down further to his throat, wanting to taste the smooth skin there under your tongue, and you can feel how wet you are already in your panties. 

After about an hour, a maid enters the room with a tray of snacks. She’s right on time, entering through your doorway at the exact moment you had instructed her to, but you're so worked up from Coriolanus just existing a couple feet away from you on your own bed, that you glare at her like you want to bite her head off. 

She doesn’t waste time, even more so when she sees your expression. The maid deposits the tray of food on the bed between the two of you and places a bottle of wine with two glasses on your side table before hurrying out of the room. 

Coriolanus looks up from his notebook the second the food is placed in front of him, eyes immediately locking onto the tray. It’s obvious how badly he wants to go for it, but he holds himself back. 

“Looks yummy, right?” You say, slyly, nodding to the small assortment of bread, cheeses, jams, and fruit. “Great brain food,” 

He nods, throwing in an indifferent shrug as he responds, “Yes, it’s—it’s fine.”

You grab the wine bottle from beside you, uncorking the bottle with practiced efforts. “I also asked for some tastier things too,” You say, gesturing to the wine and the small bowls of chocolate sauce and whipped cream also adorning the tray. “A little reward to us for all of our hard work this semester.”

It’s funny watching him just sit there, struggling to appear calm and collected in the presence of such delicious foods. What do poor people even eat anyway? Maybe nothing. Maybe he survives on water and the lunches the school provides. What a shame, he’s too pretty to suffer. But if he is going to suffer, you're excited that you at least get to reap the benefits. 

You pour two hefty glasses of wine, handing one to Coriolanus and bringing the other one between you, signaling for a toast. “To study dates and good food.”

The corner of his mouth quirks up in an aborted smile, and, to be honest, you’re not sure if he means it or not, but nevertheless he clicks his glass against yours anyway. “To study dates and good food.”

You watch his face from behind your glass as he brings his own to his lips. His eyes flutter shut at the first taste of wine against his tongue, and you wonder how often, if ever, he’s had the experience before to make him make such a euphoric face. He licks his lips, catching the stray drops of wine on his upper lip before he clears his throat.

“It’s nice,” He comments, nonchalantly. “Sweeter than the wine I’m used to.”

“Oh, yeah?” You grin, swirling your wine gently in the glass. The wine aerates under your nose as you breathe in the sweeter notes of its smell. “The Snows prefer the taste of drier wines, huh?”

“Yes, we do,”

He cuts the conversation short, looking back down at the plate of food. He still has his pen in his hand, the other hand occupied by the glass of wine, so you take the opportunity to put the next step of your plan in motion. 

“Keep writing,” You say, waving at his pen. You place your wine glass back on the side table and grab a small slice of bread from the tray. “You’re on a roll. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this.”

He clears his throat again, pressing the pen to the paper, but he can’t write anything. His eyes are glued to where you're prepping his snack, spreading a thick layer of creamy cheese on the bread before topping it with a few swipes of spiced jam. You want to laugh at how his mouth practically waters for it, lips parted in want and his pupils are unusually large against the bright blue canvas of his irises. 

“There we go,” You coo, holding up the savory treat between you both. “Open up, Coryo. The jam on top is to die for.”

You watch in glee as he opens his mouth, letting you bring the bread to his lips before he bites down on it. It’s quiet, too quiet, but the room is quiet too - so no matter how concealed he tries to hide his small moan of pleasure, you hear it anyway. And the sound shoots right to your dripping cunt. 

You feed him another bite, and then another, and you’re a little shocked that he’s even letting you feed him at all without protest or a show of pride, but you don’t complain. There’s a small smudge of jam smeared at the corner of his mouth. His pretty blue orbs never leave yours as you slowly trace along the sticky corner with your thumb, gathering up the bits of jam and popping it in your mouth letting out a small moan of your own at the taste. 

“So good,” You say again. He gulps, trying to hide his nervousness behind another long sip of wine. “You know what else is really good? This chocolate sauce,”

Your middle finger dips into the chocolate bowl, chocolate coating your finger as you pull it out, the excess dripping back into the bowl. You pop your finger into your mouth, humming at the rich taste as it soaks into your tastebuds. Coriolanus’s eyes follow your movements, still dark in want but also colored with confusion. Poor baby, you think. If you were a better person, you would feel guilty about manipulating him so badly.

But you’re not, and the bitch inside you roars in delight at how well you have him exactly where you want him. 

“Hmm, so good,” You whisper, slowly dragging your now clean finger back and forth along your bottom lip. “It’s William Dean, the best chocolate connoisseur in all of Panem. His chocolates are the best luxury, I’m sure you know, but I always prefer the chocolate sauce to the chocolates themselves.”

Your finger finds its way back into the chocolate before hovering it in front of Coriolanus’s slightly parted lips. “Don’t you wanna try it?”

There’s hesitation on his face, eyes flickering with uncharacteristic uncertainty from yours to your dessert covered finger and back again as he thinks. In the end, the want wins out, and he opens his mouth more to let you slip your finger inside. The inside of his mouth is warm and wet, the strong muscle of his tongue licking along your finger as he sucks off every single bit of chocolate offered on it. His tongue vibrates under your finger as he moans, louder this time than the last, eyes fluttering shut at the taste. You wonder if it’s just from the taste of the chocolate or from the combined taste of your skin and spit too. 

“Delicious, right?” You ask, slowly pulling your finger from between his plush lips.

When his eyes open again, his pupils are blown wide - only a thin band of blue around the edges - and you can’t help but smirk at yourself in their reflection. 

He nods, as if dazed, letting out a low “mhm” in agreement.

“Here,” You grab a strawberry off the tray and coat it with the melty chocolate just like your finger. “Try it with this.”

He doesn’t even hesitate as you bring it up to his mouth, lips parting as his teeth bite into the red fruit. You almost can’t believe how blissed out he looks, just from a few bites of food. His chewing is slow, like it’s purposeful - dedicated to savoring every second as he enjoys what he never gets to have, eyes hazy with an almost far away look to them. 

Poor Coriolanus Snow, how the mighty have fallen. 

You quickly bite the other half, barely registering the sweetness of the fruit mixed with the richness of the chocolate before tossing the green leafy top back onto the tray. Instead, the visual of him licking the leftover chocolate left on his lips from the bite into the fruit sears into your brain. 

“It’s probably the best you’ve ever tasted, huh?” The dig comes out without your permission, but it doesn’t matter because while normally his clever and quick mind would have had you scrambling for a response to whatever his snappy comeback would have been, he doesn’t seem to catch on to your implication.

He’s too drunk right now. Too drunk on the few sips of wine and small bites of food he’s had. Too drunk on savoring everything, desperate in the way his gaze drops back down to the small feast in front of him. 

“Hey,” You call, bringing his attention back to your face. He looks like a puppy waiting for his next command. “Are you going to thank me for being such a gracious host?”

“Thank you,” He whispers. 

“No, Coryo,” You say, a wicked grin pulling at your lips. “Thank me,”

Your previous dig might have gone over his head, but the unspoken demand doesn’t. Hazy blue meets your own hooded ones, a breathless moment between the two of you as your words sink in, and then he’s leaning forward - soft, pouty mouth pressing against yours gently. 

Victory burns through your veins like fire. The urge to scream like a madwoman, the sound feeling stuck at the back of your throat, urging you to let it out just so you can relieve some of this overwhelming excitement that runs through you. But no, you have to be calm about this. Strategic. Don’t fuck this up, you remind yourself. Don’t scare him off. 

But your hands itch to bury themselves in his hair, wanting to grip the golden strands between your fingers and tug hard enough to make him whine against your mouth. His lips feel like heaven against yours, the soft press of his bottom lip fitting between yours before he pulls back, breathing into your space for a moment, before coming back in for another kiss without you even having to tell him. 

His lips move against yours with an intoxicating combination of shyness and want. He’s still gentle, way too gentle for your liking - you didn’t wait to have him for this long for him to be soft about it. You want the roughness, the passion, the desperation where he wants you so much that he can’t bear to not have his hands on you for even a second. But there’s also power in the shyness, in the nervousness that you have erupting from every pore of his body. 

When he pulls back again, you don’t hesitate to move your lips to his cheek, kissing across the cool, smooth skin. His hand has long since dropped the pen by now, now choosing to fist into the lush fabric of your very expensive sheets while the other somehow still holds onto his half filled wine glass. His breathing is starting to get shaky - unsteady shallow breaths puffing out next to your ear as your lips trace the line of his jaw. 

Without even having to look, you grab another strawberry, dipping it into the chocolate and bringing it to where your mouth is pressing hot, open mouth kisses to Coriolanus’s jaw. 

He jumps at the first touch of the tip of the fruit against his neck, a confused grunt escaping his lips as he mutters a quiet, “What are you doing?” But he doesn’t move away, doesn’t pull back from the way your lips nibble at the sensitive spot behind his ear. 

You drag the fruit down the long column of his neck, leaving a line of tempting chocolate in its wake as you whisper a soothing, “Just relax, Coryo. I’m eating,”

Your tongue finds the bottom of the trail, pressing flat and wet against his neck as you lick away the chocolate in one long seductive lick. You're quick to repeat the process, dragging the fruit down the column of his throat, a delicious line of sweetness you can devour while tasting the distinct flavor of him underneath it. His head tips back to allow you access to the trail of chocolate on his throat, and you reward his cooperation by holding the fruit above his upturned face so he can sink his teeth into it while you sink your teeth into him. 

His throat bobs underneath your lips when he swallows. 

The whipped cream still sits untouched in the bowl, and your neck still stays untouched with Coriolanus’s kisses. So you grab his chin, dragging his face back down to yours once again.

“You hungry, baby?” You ask, your eyes locked on his. “You wanna eat, too?”

“Yeah,” He breathes, nodding frantically against your grip. “I’m starving.”

Whipped cream sticks thickly to the spoon as you pull it out of the small bowl. The white substance sticks to your skin as you drag it down along your neck, your body heat melting some of it directly upon contact and small streaks of white drip down to your collarbone. The spoon isn’t even moved away yet when he leans forward, pink tongue laving eagerly against your skin as he licks up the cream. 

His tongue is so soft, wet and hot against your neck, warm breath fanning across the wet skin as his tongue follows the scattered drippings down lower. You're quick to add more whipped cream to your body, smearing it lower across your chest and over the swell of your breast peeking out from the top of your dress. The feel of his mouth on your breast makes your jaw drop, breathy sighs falling from your lips as you watch him lick the cream off your chest. His pink lips look beautiful on the round swell, thick lashes brushing the tops of his cheeks as he latches onto the top to suck gently, still trying to get every last taste of cream onto his greedy tastebuds. 

Gripping his chin again, you pull him back up to your face, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss. He groans when your tongue pushes through into his mouth, sliding against his as you suck the taste of the whipped cream off his tongue. His hands come up to hold your face, one hand cradling your cheek while the other hand, still holding the glass of wine, reaches up to touch your jaw and helps to tilt your face up to his. 

Your fingers grab the thin straps of your dress, pulling them down over your shoulders and freeing your breasts from the cups. You hate to drag your lips from his, teeth digging into his plump bottom lip and pulling as you pull back, grinning at the groan it rips from him in return. You grab the glass from his hand, arching your back slightly to puff out your chest more as you spill a little of the wine over it. Coriolanus groans at the sight of the red drink running down your chest, cascading over your breasts and dripping down further to soak into the material of your dress. 

“F-fuck,” he whimpers, and immediately takes the hint, large hands gripping your waist to hold you still.

His pink tongue draws along your chest, cleaning the spillage from your skin as he nibbles along your breast. His plush lips wrap around your nipple, tonguing the hard bud with the tip of his tongue before sucking gently. 

“Good boy,” You coo. You’re trying for a taunting tone, but the words come out more gritted than you would have liked as you feel your panties completely soak through. “Clean it all up for me,”

His pretty eyes look up at you as he sucks, dark with desire as he stares up at you through his lashes. He pops off your nipple with a wet sound, tongue dragging across the swell of your breast as he makes his way to the other one. When he’s done, your chest and tits are wet with his saliva instead of the sticky wine, and you shiver when his warm breath fans over the damp skin. 

You lean back against the bed, holding the wine glass straight up as you lie down flat. His hands stay on your waist, seemingly unable to loosen their grip on your sides as he follows you down. He leans over over you, watching with wide eyes as you hike the bottom of your dress up so that it bunches up below your bust and out of the way. Your beautiful body is now on full display for him - soft, smooth, and well fed as his gaze feasts on the bounty now in front of him. His eyes lock onto your white lace panties, now practically translucent with how wet they are, but you steal his attention back with a quick call of his name. 

With his eyes now back on yours, you tilt the glass over you, pouring the wine into the divet of your belly button and letting it pool there. Some of the liquid spills over, tickling your skin as it runs out along your belly and sides. Immediately, his head is at your belly, catching some straying droplets before they can soak into your sheets before his lips suction over your belly button, licking into it and sucking out the sweet drink from its makeshift cup. 

Your fingers thread into his soft hair, locking into his fluffy curls, and when there’s no more wine to drink on your body, you push his head down further. His breathing is quick and excited as he allows you to push him down to your core, little pants of hot air hitting the drenched fabric of your panties as he peers up at you. 

“Please,” He breathes, and you can’t help the smirk that pulls at your lips from the sight of him between your thighs.

“Go ahead and eat your meal, Coryo,” You say, leaning up on your elbow to watch him better. Your other hand casually keeps the still occupied wine glass upright and out of danger. “If you’re good, I’ll let you eat plenty more.”

He’s a good boy, you always knew he would be. Despite his air of confidence and ego he tries to emit daily at the Academy, you’re good at seeing through people’s disguises. Coriolanus is soft - a lost boy trying to find a place among the vicious sharks of Capitol people. 

Ready to follow your every command in hopes you deem him worthy enough to throw scraps to.

He licks over the lacy material of your panties, and you can’t help the deep shiver that wracks through your body at the tease. His nose presses against the lace, the tip brushing over where your clit sits beneath it before he hooks a finger under the material and pulls it to the side.

His tongue feels like silk against your drenched folds, the wet muscle flattening against your slit as it slides up the length of your pussy. His hands grip your thighs, using the leverage on them to keep you still as he circles your puffy clit. You briefly consider telling him to put his hands behind his back, just to add to the image of him serving you - being your ‘good boy’ - but the vision of him between your thighs, face finally pressed against your cunt where it always belonged, has you momentarily thrown for a loop.

He looks so pretty down there, blond curls messy where you had your hand in them. You’ve waited so long for this moment. Dreamed about how good he would look between your legs, disheveled and wanting as he begged you to let him eat you out. Begs you to grace him with the privilege of fucking you. And now here it is. The moment you’ve worked so hard for. 

And the payoff is gorgeous. 

His eyes are half hooded in pleasure, mouth licking and sucking greedily at your juices, moaning into your pussy like he was retasting the wine for the first time again. His moan vibrates through your entire body from where his lips are wrapped around your clit, more wetness leaking out of your soaking hole at the pathetic sound. 

You wonder what you taste like to him. Probably like honey.

The sweetest kind he’s ever tasted. 

“Do I taste good?” You ask, breathlessly. Coriolanus ignores you, seeming to not even hear you as he shakes his face against your puffy pussy, too intoxicated on your scent and taste for your words to penetrate through the fog clouding his mind. You grin, speaking louder to catch his attention. “Snow, eyes on me,”

Immediately, those baby blue eyes are focused on you and your breath catches in your throat in excitement. That’s right, gorgeous. Keep your eyes on me. 

“I asked if I taste good,” You repeat. 

Coriolanus nods, mouth never letting up on the suction around your clit as he hums out a little “mhm”. You squirm a bit, switching arms so your weight is being kept up by the elbow of the arm cradling the wine glass while your now free hand reaches out to nudge at his head to urge him down further. 

“Put your tongue in,” You demand, fingers gripping his curls again as you shove him down. “Fuck me with your tongue.”

His eyes flutter as he follows your instructions, ever the diligent student, and your mouth falls open at the feel of the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance before it pushes inside, spearing you open around the thick, wet muscle.

“Yes,” You moan, fingers leaving his curls to rub frantic circles around your pulsing clit. “Fuck me faster, Coryo,”

His fingers dig into the plush skin of your thighs, fingertips sure to leave bruises as he desperately pulls you closer, tongue digging as deep as it can into your depths as you clench around it. The coil in your belly tightens, pleasure ripping through you as you bite back the loud cry wanting to burst from your throat as the coil snaps and you cum on Coriolanus’s face, squeezing tightly around his tongue. 

You huff for breath, fingers still greedily rubbing at the sensitive nub trying to soak up every last shock of bliss from your orgasm, even as Coriolanus pulls his tongue from your insides, panting. His face is drenched in your juices - debauched and dirty because of you, and the sight alone makes you want to lock your fingers in his golden hair again and pull him back in for round two.

You sit up, listening to the desire to dig your hand into his hair, but instead of dragging him down again, you drag him up, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth before licking up the side of his face, tasting yourself on his skin as you clean him up. He’s still breathing hard when you get to his lips again, and your eyes meet his as you press small teasing kisses to his frowning lips. 

He’s confused, you can see it in his eyes. Can see the gears in his brain trying to make sense of what just happened and how he’s ended up in the position that he’s in. He’s thinking too much. Coriolanus Snow - always thinking himself stupid. And you're clearly not doing your job right if he’s still able to think after a session with you. 

“Hey,” You murmur against his lips. Your hand frees his hair, trailing down his chest and stomach before gently cupping the prominent bulge in his pants. A shocked puff of breath exhales harshly against your lips. “Just go with it.”

“Are you trying to distract me?” He asks, lips brushing against yours with each word. “Keep me from studying so you can with the prize money for yourself?”

“Oh, honey,” You giggle. “We studied plenty today, didn’t we? And besides,” Nimble fingers slide up the smooth line of Coriolanus’s throat, curling around his jaw as you kneel up, angling his face up towards you as you gaze down at him. “You won’t forget a single thing you learned today after I’ve finished with you.”

Your fingers dig into his jaw as you press another head spinning kiss to his lips, completely obsessed with the way they mold against yours, soft and yielding against your demanding mouth. When you pull back, it’s with a wild heat in your eyes that you can see reflected in his own. 

“Lie back,”

You watch in muted glee as he does, lying back flat against the sheets even as he scoots back further towards the center of the bed. Your legs move with him, following him back as you crawl over his sprawled out body, taking a small sip of wine as you settle on his hips. His cock pulses in its confines against you, pressed tightly against your soaked panties as you slowly rock your hips along the thick bulge. Pretty moans threaten to escape his lips, only muffled by sheer willpower to not open his mouth to let the sounds out to their fullest potential. His golden curls are unkempt, fanned out against your silk sheets like a halo, and you can’t help but think he looks like an angel like this.

An angel you can’t wait to ruin. 

“Hold this for me, won’t you?” You say, pressing the wine glass into his hand. He grabs it as if on autopilot, holding it up prettily with the stem between his middle and ring finger, like a proper gentleman. 

Impatient hands paw at his burgundy sweater, bunching the material up as far up as you can get it to reveal his long, skinny torso. Immediately, your mouth is on his skin, lips brushing lightly over his side, soft enough to tickle as they brush over the all too prominent ribs. You look up at Coriolanus, meeting his baby blues as he watches you kiss each individual bump along his side. His eyebrows are furrowed, lips parted as if wanting to say something, and you can only imagine the nonsense that could come out. He has to know that you know something’s up - normal, well-fed young adults don’t clearly have emaciated bodies like this. You have to admit, he’s done an admirable job at keeping the Snow family misfortune under the radar, but you’re not about to let his pride and ego get in the way of you and your prize. 

“It’s learning by association, right?” You say, cutting him off before he can form his excuse. You lick a long stripe across his belly, his very flat belly - warm breath fanning across the wet path as you pull back to speak again. “We’re in the classroom, right? And you’re stumped on a question. So you’ll look over the balcony and down one row to the left, where I sit, and see me sitting there all pretty and hard at work,”

Coriolanus lets out a shuttering sigh when you scoot further down his body, pressing another gentle kiss just to the right of his belly button. “You’ll stare at my glossed up lips, all shiny and tempting in the light, imagining them pressed against yours,” Another kiss to the opposite side. “And you’ll remember the date the Treaty of Treason was signed into effect.”

“F-fuck,” Coriolanus whines as you hold his hips, using your grip to keep him steady as you trail your kisses lower and lower towards the waistband of his pants. His cheeks are so flushed, red flaming at the pale skin even as he drags his hand over his face. He’s trying to hide - how adorable. 

“You’ll remember the various ecological disasters that brought about the creation of Panem everytime you think about my tits,” You continue, nibbling along his jutting hip bone. You draw a playful heart on his skin with the tip of your tongue. “About how soft and perfect they are,”

Your eyes drop down to the bulge straining in his pants, the dark material only made darker by the wet spot on them made from your own juices. 

“The five major economic benefits to a split District-Capitol government will pop into your mind whenever you think about how I tasted on your tongue,” Coriolanus moans desperately when you lick across his clothed erection, hips jerking despite your hold. 

Excitement fills your chest as you work the front of his pants open, quick fingers easing the zipper down over the thick bulge and working his gorgeous, gorgeous, oh so gorgeous cock free from its prison. You’ve waited a long time for this moment, and your greedy eyes don’t let it go to waste. 

His cock is every bit as magnificent as you knew it would be. It stands tall and hard, thick with the head already coated with precum as it springs out and slaps against his belly. He’s going to fill you up so good, fill you up until you’re so full you think you might just burst from it. You want it. You want it so badly that you almost hate that you’re going to make yourself wait for it. 

His bottom lip is caught between his teeth, body just barely trembling enough with nerves that you're able to see it through your own distraction. Your fingers sneak their way towards him, loving the way both Coriolanus and his cock twitch at the feel of your fingers wrapping around the heated length. 

“And when you need to remember which US states combined to make up the districts,” You breath, head lowering down, your breath fanning across his weeping tip. “Just think of my mouth sucking on your pretty cock.”

The sound he makes when your lips wrap around the head of his cock makes you want to laugh. It’s pathetic, a high-pitched gasp that rips from his throat as his back arches against the bed. But the taste of his precum coating your taste buds as you suckle on the reddened tip has you distracted. He tastes so good, so much better than you think is fair. He already invades your thoughts and dreams with his too pretty face and better-than-you attitude - he doesn't need to taste as good as he does on top of everything now that you’ve finally got him. 

There’s a moment when you consider reaching over to grab a spoonful of the whipped cream still sitting on the now forgotten tray. The food isn’t for you, it’s a means to an end - but there’s a part of you that can’t help but want to see what it looks like smeared against Coriolanus’s cock. You can picture it in your mind already, the flushed tip just barely hidden under the dollop of cream, the heated skin melting the topping just enough for it to start dripping down the sides of his cock before you can lick it all up. 

You don’t do it, not willing to part with the much tastier treat you’ve won. Your mouth stays happily in its place as you work your way further down his length, humming as his cock slides across your tongue and brushes the back of your throat. The sounds trying to erupt from him make you suck harder, sucking in your cheeks as you bob your head, tongue laving across the underside of his cock with each up and down motion, greedy to get its fill. His hand clasps over his mouth, eyes squeezing shut as he tries to muffle his moans of pleasure. A pang of irritation zips through you at the thought that even as he’s giving into you - giving you what you’ve always wanted - he’s still being a stubborn asshole and keeping you from fully enjoying your success.

Those sounds are yours. They belong to you. You deserve to hear each and every adorably pathetic whine and gasp that creeps its way up his throat. 

You’ve earned them.  

He’s trying, he really is, but even his palm can’t keep his tortured groan quiet when you press down just a little too deep, nose aiming for that soft patch of golden curls at the base of his cock but not quite making it there as your throat spasms around him - choking and gagging around the thick length as you use it to bully your own airway. 

Thick strands of saliva connect your mouth to his cock even as you pull off. Your hand strokes to make up for your missing mouth as you lean up, only pausing to press a couple of teasing kisses to the underside of the swollen head as you go. 

“Open your eyes,” You demand, waiting for him to comply before slowly teasing the tip of your tongue along the slit on the top, just to watch his eyelashes flutter as his pretty eyes roll back. The sight makes you grin, the smug pull of your lips present even as you sit up, hips straddling his thighs as you perch yourself up. 

Your nipples are so hard, pebbled and begging for his attention. You wish he could read your mind right now, so he would know to reach out and grab at them - squeeze your breasts in his large hands, message them and play with the tightened buds between his clever fingers. You wish he would pull on them, twist them enough to make you gasp and arch your back, and you’d reward him with tightening your grip on his cock, wrist twisting your palm around his tip in mimic of his own action. 

He doesn’t, of course, hand still clamped over his mouth like it is. Still muffling those pretty, clit-throbbing sounds that belong to you. 

Your right hand slides around his cock, using the copious amounts of saliva you left behind as a lube, spreading the wetness around his pulsing length and getting it nice and slick. His wet cock glistens in the overhead light of your bedroom, and, honestly - you never thought a cock could look so beautiful. Your other hand reaches out to grab Coriolanus’s wrist, yanking his hand away from his mouth so you can hear his sounds, undisturbed, as you jerk him off. 

“Stop that,” You hiss when he tries to pull his wrist from your grip. “Don’t hide them. Wanna hear you. Wanna hear how good I’m making you feel.”

“Ah-hmm,” he moans, wrist ripping from your grip. But he listens, and rather than going back to cover his mouth, his fingers twist into the silk sheets instead, bunching them up in his fist as he watches you with wild eyes. 

“Yeah, there we go,” You coo, fist stroking over his hot flesh as you work him faster. There’s a pearl of precum beading up on the tip of his cock, more pushing out the tighter you squeeze each time your fist gets to the top. Wet, slick sounds fill the room in time with your strokes, his pleasured moans cutting through the wet noises like a lewd symphony. “So much better, right?”

His thighs shake underneath you, hips stuttering and trying to buck up into your hold but the prison of your body weight on his thighs keep them pinned down. His moans turn into helpless blabbering - a endless string of ‘oh fuck, y/n, please, fuck, fuck–’.

The sound of him moaning your name sends a new gush of wetness into your already soaked panties. Your neglected clit aches for you to rub it, to grind the swollen nub on his thigh for relief - you think another wet spot on the dark trousers would look perfect. 

You double down on your stroking instead, your other hand curling around his hip to keep it pressed against the mattress as your hand speeds up on his cock. Every time the wetness making him slick starts to dry up, you add more, leaning down just a bit to let another long line of saliva fall from your wet lips and onto the red flushed tip of his cock. 

He’s so loud. The visual of you spitting on his cock is just way too much for his poor, inexperienced self to handle. The sounds coming out of his mouth are pure filth - hot and stomach clenching as you grin in satisfaction. It makes sense, you think. He’s loud and confident at the Academy, boisterous in his achievements as he speaks with a fake humility. It makes sense that he would be loud in the bedroom, unable to keep his voice down as he moans and whines like a slut. 

“So loud, baby,” You tease. The hand gripping his hip finds the forgotten food tray, two fingers dipping into the almost empty chocolate sauce bowl. “You’re distracting me. Shh,” 

Your fingers press into his open mouth, his lips automatically closing around your digits with a whimper. He sucks the chocolate off of your fingers like a good boy, eyes wide and wet making him look like he’s on the verge of tears. You want it. Want that push that’s going to make those pretty eyes spill out waterfalls over his flaming cheeks.

Just a little more.

Your hand moves faster on his cock, fist focusing cruelty on the top half of his shaft, palm twisting over the sensitive head with each stroke. The fingers in his mouth push back further and he gags, body jolting from the gag even as he moans around them again. The remaining wine in the glass sloshes from his jolt, but the crystal stays clasped between his fingers. 

And there they are: twin trails running from his red rimmed eyes. You coo at him while the overwhelmed tears become victims to gravity. Instead of trailing down his cheeks like in the image in your head, one trails across his temple and soaks into his hairline while the other pools up along the side of his nose - and your empty, aching hole clenches tightly around nothing at the sight. 

His cock throbs in your hand, hot and heavy as it twitches in the tight cage of your fingers, pretty red tip coated in a mixture of precum and spit disappearing and reappearing with each quick stroke of your fist. Fuck, you want it inside you so badly, want to feel him stretching you out. You’d make him cum within two seconds of being inside you, your pussy is just that magical. So warm and tight and perfect that men just can’t control themselves when they get inside of you - or so you’ve experienced with the other Academy boys who you’ve deemed worthy enough (although just barely) to have their moment with you. Poor pretty boy Coriolanus wouldn’t stand a chance. Frankly you’re shocked he’s even lasted as long as he has. You thought he might shoot his load in his pants while eating you out, although you’re glad he didn’t or this current playtime would have been unfortunately halted. 

He’s so close, just a hair away from falling apart in front of your eyes. And you’re so hungry - so hungry for him.

The whines are muffled around your invading fingers, but they’re a constant now, no time wasted between them as he babbles around your fingers. The words come out garbled, but they sound a lot like ‘I’m gonna cum, please, please, fuck’. So you giggle, light and airy as you breathe, “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me,”

You don’t want to stop touching him. It’s addicting, making him moan and cry for you with just a few practiced strokes from your hand. You’d never stop if it was up to you. But your hand stops stroking his cock the second his eyes roll back into his head, just keeping a firm grip on the base to keep it still even as his body shakes. His cock twitches for a second, reddened head glistening before the first spurts of his release shoot out of the tip. They travel far, dirtying his stomach and splattering the smooth pale skin with white, some even making it as high up as his ribs, just barely missing the burgundy of his sweater. He cries around your fingers and you're sure the lack of stimulation is absolutely killing him. But he made you wait. He made you stress and work hard and put in effort just to get him. He needs to be punished for his crimes against your ego and libido. 

He’s so pretty though, so so fucking gorgeous it makes you sick, and your willpower has just about been all used up. You stroke up his twitching length again, working him through the tail end of his orgasm, fist tightening and twisting at the top to milk out any lingering cum from the swollen tip. He’s still whimpering when you pull your fingers from his mouth, those same wet fingers moving to steal the glass from his hand, your eyes locking onto his as you finish the rest of the sweet drink in one last long victorious gulp.

Both of his hands find their way to you as his orgasm comes to an end, clutching at your thighs as the pleasure subsides but your movements don’t. He tries to push your hand away with a tortured groan, the stimulation becoming too much too quickly, but you easily slap it away. He’s weak, poor pathetic baby is too weak to make you stop - bones like jelly and brain still malfunctioning, no doubt. So you take advantage of all he’s worth even as you remove the circle of your fingers from around his cock and switch to palming the oversensitive flesh where it sits against his stomach. 

“Ha- fuck, y/n, s-stop p-please,” 

Your hand finally leaves his cock, choosing instead to wrap gently around his throat. Stop, he says? No. There’s no stopping now that you finally have him. 

“You want me to back off the Plinth Prize, Coryo?” You rasp. “You’re gonna have to earn it,”

[hum-suffer]

Just finished watching the first episode of heeramandi (you either die a hero or live long enough to become a villain) and this is my review WITH VAGUE SPOILERS

Alamzeb either has a mirror related kink or is just narcissistic

Everyone but Mallika has a crush on Cartwright and Cartwright cannot digest that

Mallika and Alamzeb are both rude and think it's superior and cute to be rude, respectively.

Everyone has a crush on Tajdar, including Mallika. (I think it's the hot translucent kurta with cute heart embroidery at the shoulder)

Alamzeb sucks at being quiet but that's not a huge issue, currently.

Consequently, Alamzeb's bestie/servant and Mallika's driver are fucking (in a haystack)(why)

Bibbojaan is the local eldest daughter who has too many responsibilities but is still loved by everyone around her because she developed a facade of being cute and bubbly.

The writers sat to plot down characters and searched up the things that booktok girlies find hot and wrote such scenes for Tajdar. (Him caging Alamzeb against a wall THRICE in the span of two meetings. Wow. Be less subtle, why don't you?) (kuch aur bhi baki ho toh make him say that he wishes he could worship her for their lives. Or make him caress her neck seductively)

Usse yaad aaya, Cartwright resorted to seducing Ustaad ji for info on Mallika??? DUDE. Seduction is an art. Answering your door in a towel isn't a part of that art. You're just asking him to jump your bones. All that naked chest and for what??? Hickeys.

Waheedan is smart. Absolutely love her stealing techniques. And she imagined a make out session with Cartwright within 3 minutes of meeting him. Fellow delulu girlie.

Lajjo has an alcoholism issue but she's got no issues on speaking facts. Alamzeb cannot be a shayra brother she needs to hone her skills

The casual child trafficking in this show is something that i don't have words for and hence I saved it for the last. It's honestly jarring how easily SLB mentions it. But as a writer, I get that he's trying to show how small of a thing it used to be at the time. Perhaps the trauma could have been explored more

I think we're seeing the show mainly from Alamzeb's pov and hence it's a little more rose tinted. Idk. Will find out

[sleep-drunk-kitten]

pairing: Husband!Jake x gn!reader

genre: sickening fluff, drabble

content warnings: could give u toothache idk

summary: some fluffy thoughts about husband Jake, that is all

notes: just a lil sumin inspired by yet another delulu conversation with the one and only @nar-nia

Everything below the cut is NOT proofread

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

♡ I am fully convinced that Jake would be the type of lover who doesn't compute what shyness is when it comes to expressing how much he loves you

♡ and that would be fine, welcomed even

♡ except he's so corny about it 😭

♡ even when you're married and living together, he'll continue to use the most clichéd pickup lines on you, at the most random times

♡ "hey, my name’s Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?"

♡ "we live together Jake"

♡ "if I could rearrange the alphabet, I’d put ‘U’ and ‘I’ together."

♡ "it's a whole bowl of alphabet pasta, good luck"

♡ "I'd say God bless you, but it seems like he already did!"

♡ you don't respond, you have a cold and it's difficult to not smile and continue pretending to be grumpy after he made you take that god awful medicine

♡ your snarky replies and feigned annoyance never does much tho, he thinks it's cute when you scrunch up your nose in mock disgust, you're incredibly sexy when you remind him how smart and quick witted you are, and he loves to hear you laugh knowing he's the reason behind it

♡ there's no winning, but you wouldn't trade what you have with him for anything

♡ you'll be standing in the kitchen late one night, tiredly waiting for the light on the kettle to indicate that your water's ready and you can make yourself that cup of coffee you so desperately need

♡ when a pair of arms wrap round your middle, a warm body resting against your back

♡ Jake doesn't need to say anything for you to know it's him

♡ after all, nobody else fits against you so perfectly, no one could possibly know how to hold you in a way that makes you feel so safe and secure

♡ naturally, your frame melts into his

♡ you can feel Jake smiling into your neck as he presses soft kisses against your skin, knowing you're very ticklish

♡ you try to shove him off, but to no avail. It just makes him more determined. He'd dig his fingers into your sides, relishing your yelp of surprise and the high pitched giggles that follow

♡ he doesn't let up till you manage to twist yourself round, grabbing his wrists and resting your forehead against his

♡ you're both out of breath, grinning like idiots as you lightly kick his shin, informing him that he's absolutely evil

♡ he just snickers, kissing your nose and telling you he loves you too

♡ "life without you would be like a broken pencil... totally pointless"

♡ you groan, kicking him again, resting your head on his shoulder now, and whining about how he ruined the moment

♡ Jake just laughs softly, wriggling his wrists out of your slackened hold to weave his fingers through your own

♡ pressing a kiss to the side of your head, he says nothing, just starts humming a song you recognise as the one you both listened to together on your first date, when the movie you'd wanted to see was suddenly cancelled and Jake had dragged you to a park in all your sulky disappointment

♡ pulling you down to snuggle against his chest while you both sat on the edge of a slide, he'd passed you his phone and an earbud so you could both trade songs back and forth while telling each other what you loved about each one

♡ with his arms around your waist, your back tucked into his warm chest, his voice filling the quiet space, you were suddenly grateful for the "failed" movie date

♡ and you were grateful for Jake now, as he slow danced with you to music only the two of you could hear in your dimly lit kitchen

♡ with your cheek pressed into his shoulder, you tell him that you love him, and that

♡ "if I were a cat... I'd spend all nine of my lives with you..."

♡ Jake didn't know his heart could feel any bigger in his chest, but he swears it's almost suffocating, how much he loves you too

[softfem-dom]

just being delulu about hybrid!outsiders au, you're just a young wealthy woman that has her life solved thanks to being the heir to your father's succesful bussiness. You just have to sit around in your desk, in your huge countryhouse, and do some stupid paperwork. You just have to sign and aprove and decline and repeat, easy, right? Well, you are really starting to dislike the utter silence in your house. Everything is too quiet and too empty and you sure as hell ain't gonna have kids anytime soon without a partner. So you head up to the locel hybrid kennel, because it's better than adopting and paying for pure breed dogs when there are ones about to be sacrified. And then, once you enter, you're greeted by the sight of a lot of hybrids in pitiful conditions. Mostly males. So you head up to the closest worker and ask "which is the one that is closer to being sacrified?" and the man simply points towards a small cage with a tan-skinned hybrid (that looked scared out of his mind) "that one" he replies nonchantaly.

So you go and try and adopt that stray Greyhound hybrid, named Johnny, only for other dogs to start barking at you. Seemingly, to get Johnny you had to get Dallas—a Canary Mastiff—. And to get Dallas you had to get Two-Bit—a Siberian Husky—. And to get Two-Bit you had to get Steve—a Weimaraner—. And to get Steve you had to get Sodapop—a Golden Retriever—. And to get Soda you had to get Ponyboy—a Belgian Tervurem—. And to get Ponyboy you had to get Darry—a German Shepherd—. Basically, they were an inter-breed pack and either you got them all or you got none. And, against your better judgement and because you couldn't just let them be sacrified —because you were sensitive like that, damn—, you ended up taking them all in.

—Wich was at both the best decission of your life and the worst mistake you've ever made—.

,,

Darry was goddamn glad you had agreed to take them all in, mainly because you were more-or-less his age and he was no longer the only figure of authority in the group. He was the most helpful, often offering to help you wash the dishes or cook lunch.

Johnny was the most shy one of them all, he had a guarded nature and it seemed something had happened to make him all-the-more anxious and wary around new people. However, he seems to be taking a liking to you by the way he usually drops on his knees under your desk whenever you're working and rests his head on your lap —more often-than-not playing around with your skirt or pants—.

Ponyboy was the youngest, but surpsisingly not the most hyper despite still being practically a puppy. He's very smart and will often correct you just to (affectionately) get on your nerves, he also likes to read your books so you better keep anything with inapropiate content out of his reach if you don't want an earful from his brother Darry.

The most hyper price is won by both Sodapop and Two-Bit, they're just two overeager hybrids that are completely ecstatic about living in your house —often sticking their noses where they shouldn't, but oh well. Soda is very hyper, constantly orbiting around you and asking about everything you do —even when you're just cooking and he has seen Darry cook plenty of time before, he just wants you to talk to him—. There are no thoughts™ inside his pretty head, and also the most reactive to praise. Just slip in a "good boy" or "such a good job!" and he's melting into a puddle of goo in the floor, tail wagging furiously. Two-Bit is hyper too, but more on the restless side of the spectrum. He just needs distractions, put on mickey mouse on the TV or give him a newspaper to tear apart and he's all good 👍.

Steve is more.. on the reserved side, a little more grumpy and stubborn —and the only one to have ever flared his teeth at you—. It's not that he doesn't like you, at the contrary:; he damn loves you for taking the whole gang in, but that's just his personality. He'll show how grateful he is by helping you out in subtle things, like picking up the toys from the others and placing them all in one place so you don't go crazy when it's time to put them in their box, or by making sure no one —Dallas— steals anything personal from you.

Dallas is the biggest deal out of them all though, he's just completely unhinged. He doesn't follow your rules and is constantly going out of his way just to do specifically what you told him not to —thank god that Darry's there to keep him in his place from time to time—. He's a total bastard, and is always being a bitch about things and also always saying comments about your body and how hot you are. Also you're pretty sure a few panties of yours have gone missing.. But, in the end, at least your house is not empty anymore, neither silent, constantly echoed in: "mommy!" that's Johnny. "ma'!" that one's Steve. "mommaaaa!" that's Ponyboy complaining about something, no doubts. "miss mommy!" those two are, no doubt, Two-Bit and Soda. "mama~" that damn sing-song tone is Dallas'. And yes, Johnny, you can read him a book even though he's clearly able to do it himself. Yes, Steve, you know where his shirt is, but he can't go around shirtless like that.Yes, Ponyboy, you can give him a can of coke even tho he's obviously able to get it himself. Yes, Soda and Two-Bit, you can put the channel in which they stream mickey mouse™ even if they already know which it is. And yes—oh, actually no, Dallas, you won't shower him, he can do it himself.

SORRY THE DELULU HIT HARD 😭

[ravolix]

late night talking

synopsis: though he always has been a tough nut to crack, you and scaramouche have grown to be best friends. however, on a late-night phone call with him, he finds himself drowsily enamored.

content: modern au, gn!reader, second person, romantic pining (scaramouche), (supposed) one-sided love, fluffy as shit

In hindsight, staying up until 2AM just to talk in mumbled whispers on a school night isn’t the smartest idea. However, when it comes to you, there are no smart ideas in Scaramouche’s mind.

“Oh, and we need to check out that carnival coming sometime in June,” you were saying, extending a finger as you list off another activity.

“Mhm,” Scaramouche hummed absentmindedly. As much as your energy is infectious, he can’t deny the way his eyes start to flutter shut every now and then. Even his grip on the phone falters, the device hot from the nearly 4 hours you’ve been calling for.

“We could also visit the aquarium, the coffee shop behind the—“ You continue the list before you cut yourself off. A single glance into your screen paints a clear picture as to where Scaramouche’s mind is right now.

“Scara? You good?”

“Hm? Uh, yeah,” he murmurs, rubbing away the sleep from his eyes. However, a small yawn escapes him that’s a bit hard to miss, “Keep talking.”

To that, he hears a stifled laugh instead of a verbal response. He glances over to your portrait on his phone, taking in the way the faint artificial light hits your face. How the shadows of your room seem to frame your features so perfectly and the fact that your smile—

“Nah, I’ll stop for tonight. Wouldn’t want you to die from a lack of sleep,” you eventually reply with a chuckle. Scaramouche can hear (and barely see) you flip over in your bed, pulling the covers over your body.

In this new angle, he gets to see a new perspective of your face. A part of him wishes he could just reach out and tuck away that stray piece of hair laying on your forehead. Perhaps if he was there with you, you wouldn’t feel the need to go under the covers for warmth.

Instead, however, he just nods.

“Fair. Guess I’ll catch you tomorrow,” he replies softly, a wind-down from the previous energy the call carried.

“Yep, see you,” your lips curve into a gentle smile.

Scaramouche only replies with a cough, trying to cover up the faint blush as he finds himself getting flustered over your pixely face.

“Sweet dreams, Scara.”

Before he can open his mouth to reply, you already hung up. Though a part of him wishes the call lasted a bit longer, the other part is glad you didn’t have to hear whatever was about to slip from his mouth.

After a few seconds, he sighs and places his phone on his bedside table. He then proceeds to bury his face into the silky case of his pillow as his tired fists come to gently slam against the mattress. Nothing much is heard from him except for a few unintelligible mumbles.

Eventually, Scaramouche flips over onto his back as he stares up at the ceiling. Faint glow-in-the-dark stars from his childhood seem to stare back at him. He lets his eyes flutter shut as a small chuckle escapes his lips.

“Who needs dreams if you’re the sweetest thing I have?”

notes: just another random babble :)) im not the best at writing dialogue but it’s better to do it once in a while

i really like writing scara as this silly little loser rather than a sadistic asshole (atleast in modern aus) (a bit delulu)

ah also i kind of forgot about the harry styles song up until right before posting this, but let’s say it’s loosely inspired 👍

taglist:

@aphroditesswan

[clairehadenough]

You do understand that you’re no better than the pr blogs, right? 🤨

You do understand that it doesn’t matter how many time you repeat it it doesn’t make it true, right?🤨

[skyeslittlecorner]

Orphan from Hades, outcast from Gehenna

I've wanted to do this for a long time, and I finally got around to it. Here I collect all the details that this sweet lamb has in common with Hades. ...aaand some rambling about him and his Solomon thing, because why not.

Yes, I miss him very much. Yes, I did it just to look at his beautiful face. Get ready for a collection of screenshots.

We all know that Sitri is a little... ok, very delulu about Solomon. As strange as it may sound, this is the most superficial of problems. This is eye-catching. But underneath the irritation he causes there is much, much more, and it is not good for him.

In the first part we will go through the facts and his connection with Hades, the second part is my long rant. You will have marked what is where.

PS. Sitri lovers, don't worry. I belong to this nation myself, it's not a hate rant.

Jealousy and distrust

Do I even need to mention it? He's regulary call out for this. And this is the jealousy he feels especially towards the Solo MC. During the Halloween event, he was even called out that, paraphrasing, "at this rate, maybe you really should leave Gehenna and go back to Hades". Unfortunately, I don't have this one screenshot, so you'll have to take my word for it.

Not only MC is a person which makes him jealous, but also his king. Offtop, Satan knows this and really enjoys irritating him. Apart from Sitri, MC and Leviathan (so probably all others kings too), I don't remember Satan trying to annoy anyone so purposefully, but it may be me just not remembering.

Additionally, constant doubts. Sitri has always distrusted Leamas, and if it weren't for Satan, he would have killed him on the spot. The first thing he does when Marbas appears and threatens us is pulls out a gun and puts it to his head (he is justified here because the kings did the same). In the Christmas story, whenever he sees Gabriel, he immediately throws knives at him.

Who else kills everyone who has even a 1% chance of threatening Hell?

Let alone the thing that they know and remember each other.

It doesn't mean that they knew each other very well or that they were friends. But, for example, Sitri and Bimet did not know each other. Since both Sitri and Leviathan remember each other even after some time, Sitri must have spent a lot of time in Hades. No wonder he took over their vibe.

Also, a little spoiler of ch5, just as Sitri only called us by our name when we drifted off into the land of sleep, Leviathan in his H-scene only softened when we were so unconscious that we could no longer remember it.

Weapon of choice

I have already addressed this topic here. There's no point in me dwelling on this too much. His weapon is straight from Hades. We mark this point off as obvious.

Mark & clothes

Here's a slightly more interesting thing, I admit that I noticed it only later. The tattoo on Sitri's neck. We see that it is a pentagram assigned to Satan and Gehenna, but I want to point a little curiosity.

At one point, the Sitri's symbol on his neck and Leviathan's symbol in his eye were the same. Also, very distinctive - Levi's symbol on someone's neck.

The second non-obvious thing is his clothes. Sitri is the only noble of Gehenna wearing all black. Nobles from Hades also wear black. Does this refer to this? Not necessarily, because we know that Satan's closest commandos wear dark uniforms the same as him. Sitri as a noble and Satan's right-hand devil may combine these two features.

Some headcanons and rambling

The part where I tried to be objective and draw facts ends here. Now let me happily chatter on how I interpret his behavior

bUT FIRST, I still have some unused screenshots, and how can I miss such an opportunity? PB why did you create something so beautiful?

My aesthetic sense is satisfied~

So. Let's go to my ramble. This sweet creature has huge abandonment issues. He is intelligent, and even Ppyong is confused and explains that Sitri is usually really smart, but with us he goes crazy. Besides, you can see that he behaves quite normally around others (the only exception, he can sometimes become detached around Satan).

As for our name, he knows it, and he is aware that we are not Solomon. The famous words at the end of his H-scene. So why does he call us Solomon? Because he is unable to come to terms with his departure? The easiest excuse is that he misses him and projects him onto us. That Solomon never left them and those years never existed. That Sitri doesn't care about us, that he only really wants Solomon.

But I like to think of a slightly different version.

To Hades belong the orphans, to Gehenna the outcasts. And Sitri belongs to both. We don't know what he went through, we don't know what's going through his mind, but we see his behavior towards others. He is calm and perfectly controls his emotions even during his H-scene. He is smart and morbidly suspicious, what we see a lot. Finally, he must have everything under control, to such an extent that in some matters even Satan does not try to fight him (the most striking example is that he is the only one who gives Satan blood).

When he saw us, of course, he felt the familiar spirit of Solomon. But what he really liked was us. His emotions were out of control and it scared him. So he dealt with it the only way he knew how. He can't afford to trust again and be let down again, so he forced his true emotions that he felt towards us into the "it's just love for Solomon" box. Because he has already experienced mourning for Solomon and he can cope with it somehow, maybe not well, but enough to function on a daily basis. If he was rejected again, he wouldn't be able to cope. And he can't afford it.

He is Satan's henchman, prince of Hell and The Guardian of Gehenna. He can't show weakness. He can't break down. So the defending remnants of his sanity did what they could to maintain the fragile status quo.

Does he know what he is doing is wrong? Of course. Does he realize that he is hurting us? Of course. But he is one of the highest generals in a country at war, he has to deal with all the nobles, he has to support the king, he has to be ready to fight at any moment. And his Hades mentality makes him willing to sacrifice his happiness (and last crumbs of sanity) and our liking for him to protect his king and country.

Emotions cannot be controlled. But he tries nevertheless. If he didn't feel such strong emotions towards us, he wouldn't try to deny them. If someone is traumatized, they do not always know how to properly cope with it, and his mechanism is not healthy, it harms himself and us. But what else is he supposed to do? We know the approach in Gehenna. Only strength counts. Besides, he is the "responsible one" who would listen to him and help him? We? The moment we deny him, his psyche will collapse like a house of cards.

Maybe I'm exaggerating, overinterpreting, or it's just a running joke. But after how well-developed the characters are so far, I don't want to believe that his brain just turns off with the snap of his fingers.

After all this, I only have one question.

Sitri. Baby. Who hurt you?

[nhularin]

you dont even know my name do ya?

PAIRING uni student! jake x barista! reader GENRE fluff, strangers to lovers, whipped jake WARNINGS not proofread OTHER just me, a barista, being absolutely delulu with jake WC 0.7k

series masterlist PERM TAGLIST @avocarua @misokei

February 26, 1998

jake found himself in the busy yet strangely comforting café near campus. It was a place where he could focus on his studies (well, technically he wasnt studying, just looking at his screen trying to look as smart as his friend heeseung, without distractions. and it didn't hurt that you, the cute barista had quickly become a highlight of his visits. he didnt know your name, but it didnt stop him from spending hours at that crammed coffee shop just to admire your form. jay told him to just stop being a weirdo and drop his unrequited admiration, which he just ignored

But wait a minute while I make you mine, make you mine

you were vibrant and kind, always greeting him with a warm smile as he ordered his usual drink ( a taro milk tea with peach bubbles and cheese foam). he'd admire you from afar, secretly harboring a crush that seemed to grow with each passing day. But he didn't have the courage to tell you how he felt, fearing rejection or making things awkward. he didnt want you to think that hes a weirdo, or worse, like sunghoon.

every day, he would visit the shop, hoping for a chance to exchange a few words with you, mostly talking aboit his annoying professor and you questioning his choice of beverage. he would spend hours at a table, pretending to work on his assignments while secretly stealing glances at you. just hearing your name leave your coworkers lips makes him feel giddy

I'm all nervous 'cause you're on my mind all the time

on a seemingly mundane monday, he entered the café, his mind preoccupied with you instead of his upcoming biology exam. as he approached the counter, his heart skipped a beat. there you stood, smiling at him and beautiful as ever with your cute green apron draped around your frame. he couldnt stop the scenarios of you two cooking together in his apartment form in his head

"hello my friend! the usual again?" you have asked, shaking your head with that intoxicating smile "you know, you should start drinking something else, its going to mess up your bowls. we dont want the fiasco from last week repeating, do we?"

all jake could do was lower his head in embarrassment. he remembered telling you about how he shat his pants in the middle of his anatomy exam, excusing himself to the restroom where he found brown spots coating his jeans.

"yeah i think thats a great idea" he muttered out with faux confidence, good job jaeyun "just give me whatever you like. i know you have great taste" (in men, please date me)

I'm usually pretty talkative, what's wrong with me?

after he paid for his drink and definitely overpriced sandwich, he made his way to his regular table by the window, where he could peacefully enjoy his meal and fantasize about you without any disturbance.

but he noticed something different. there, written in a messy yet delicate handwriting, was your name and number. his eyes widened with surprise, a mix of excitement and nervousness flooding in his veins. he gazed at the cup for what seems like hours, a chaotic mess of thoughts swirling in his mind. could this be an accident? was this meant for someone else? he was going to kill that lucky asshole if it was. or was it a genuine invitation? were you flirting with him? THE yn?

"hey stranger! i know we dont really know each other but i'd love to invite you for a drink outside of this shop <3 here's my number, i hope it doesnt sound weird :( +82-XXX-XXX-XXX

ps: please start studying instead of just gazing into the distance"

a smile spread across jakes face, and a surge of joy filled his heart. he took a deep breath, his whole body trembling with excitement and nerves. with a mix of determination and hope, he quickly pulled out his phone and saved your number 'ynie <3'

oh how jay was wrong