#except the anon that called me ugly

[hiiiiiba]

صباح الخير❤️

Drink lots of water today loves, stay hydrated ❤️

[drabsyo]

hey daph!

[rebelliousstories]

One in the Same

Relationship: Logan Howlett/The Wolverine x Reader, Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Brief Angst, Brief Strong Language, Brief Mentions of Violence

Word Count: 1,508

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Hailing from the land of maple syrup and politeness, Logan is not sure how he feels about this arrangement with the merc.

“Oh, I’m telling you peanut. I feel wonderful about this one.“

“Would you shut the fuck up already? Don’t wanna scare her off before she agrees to help us.”

If you were to ask Logan how he felt at the moment, he would tell you that no one should be this excited about meeting someone at eight in the morning. Wade had insisted on being up early because, according to his research, their new teammate was going to be unavailable for half of the day.

The duo made their way, in civilian clothes no less, to a random apartment in Queens to find this person. She was not particularly difficult to find, but she was always busy. Wade never got bored conducting reconnaissance on her because she moved around and did enough things to satisfy his untreated ADHD. A dingy gold plated 97 hung on her door, and caused the bald mutant to get all giddy.

“Oh this is it! This is it. Okay, how do I look?” Wilson fixed his clothes and imaginary hair while Logan arched an eyebrow.

“As ugly as you usually do.” The older mutant took it upon himself to knock three times. No answer. He rapped three more times, and waited for a moment.

A muffled voice called out, “be right there!”

The two men stood awkwardly in the hallway as they waited. Wade kept bouncing around from foot to foot, and fiddling with his clothes. When he inevitably got bored of that, he took to trying to tickle one of the tuffs of hair on Logan’s head. That only earned him a warning the first time. The second, claws were coming out and dangerously close to cutting off the offending hand.

Before he could, the door in front of them opened to reveal a woman that was bundled up for the cold New York weather. They all took a moment to see what was happening in front of them before someone decided to move. Her eyes were wide as she traced over the smooth lines of Logan’s claws, and the rough dimpling of Wade’s skin.

“Oh my god. Hi! You finally answered!” The merc exclaimed happily. He dodged the metal that dared to slice his hand off, and made his way to the mutant that had opened the door. Logan, still feeling her eyes on his claws, sheathed them back into his body.

“Hello. And you two are?” She asked hesitantly, feeling a bit uneasy around the two men.

“Well that was probably as good of a first impression as we could get. I’m Wade Wilson, aka Deadpool, aka Marvel Jesus. And this hunk of a man next to me is Logan, aka The Wolverine, aka Marvel Daddy.” Said hunky man closed his eyes, sighed, and dropped his head in defeat at the words the man spoke.

“Well, how can I help you boys? Would you like to come inside?” Stepping to the side, she led the two men inside to her living room.

Logan tried to keep his eyes on the woman they were there to see, but occasionally, his eyes would drift off to take in his surroundings. Wade, on the other hand, had already tried to break off from the group twice. Except Logan would not allow him to wander around the area, which meant that he kept his hand on the back of his collar until they sat on the couch.

“Can I get you gentlemen anything? I’ve water, coffee, some juice. Might even have something stronger, but it’s a little early for that.” A chuckle ripped from her throat.

“I’ll have a coffee. But only if it comes from a laughing man.” Wilson spoke up, happily bouncing in his spot. Two sets of eyes looked at him confused.

“I’ve just got whatever they carry at the bodega. Hope that’s okay.” Making her way into the kitchen, the woman began to make a small pot of coffee.

“So, what brings two gentlemen to my door on this fine morning?” The aforementioned men turned to face the woman who was now leaning against the threshold. Wade was on the edge of his seat at the prospect of telling their tale, meanwhile Logan had his elbows on his knees, ready to jump in and save this nice woman from the red menace.

“We need your help with restoring the multiverse. And I need someone to help this old grumpy kitty relax a bit. He just needs some human companionship.” Logan grabbed Wade’s wrist before the hand could plant itself on his shoulder.

“I’m not sure how I can help. My powers don’t tend to play well with others.” She lamented, grabbing the tray that now held all sorts of things. Coffee, cream, milk, sugar, and snacks littered the area once she set it down on the coffee table. As she made her cup, a solemn look took over her face but Wade was having none of that.

“Listen, I get it, okay? My friend here, he’s also the brooding, ‘haunted by the mistakes of your past’ kind of mutant. But you can overcome that! You can help save people. Sure we might not be Chuck, but we can definitely help you. So what do you say?” Wade tried to convince her. However, it only worked a fraction of what he had hoped.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know if I’ll be able to help,” she stated once more. While they talked, the Wolverine looked around the apartment and noticed something curious.

He placed his hands on his knees and stood, letting the two other people talk to each other as he explored. Logan felt his feet meet to where his eyes were locked on. Before he could stop himself, his hands curled around a picture frame that was surrounded by memorabilia. Turning, Logan brought the picture frame back to the living room. As he came back in, the woman and his reluctant friend had ceased their talking to focus on him.

“You play hockey?” There was a beat of silence.

“Yeah,” she began, “used to play anyways. Got an injury that took me out. But it was some of the best times of my life.”

“Who’d you play for?”

“A small female team. My personal favorites were the Maple Leafs from Toronto. Always good to have a good home team.”

“Wait a damn minute,” Wade jumped in, “‘home team’?” The mutant gasped dramatically.

“Yeah. I’m originally from a little town outside of Toronto, but I lived there for a long time.” She explained, a fond look crossing over her face as she looked at the frame.

“Oh my maple syrup.” He became misty-eyed as he looked towards the woman, “You’re from the promised land. You are Marvel Mary.”

“Shut up.” Logan growled, handing her the frame again.

“I’m confused. Why does it matter that I’m Canadian?” She puzzled, tracing fingers absentmindedly over the grooves of the picture frame.

“It doesn’t.”

“Oh, yes it does. It means that you are meant to help us save the timeline.”

“But why?”

“Because, our big ol’ kitty cat friend here hails from Canada. And, plus, we all know that this franchise would have never gotten anywhere without some spectacular Canadian actors and directors. Let’s face it. Canada turns out the best people for Marvel, not so much for the bastard’s across the road.” Wade’s explanation only further confused the woman, and infuriated the other man next to her.

“You’re Canadian?” She asked, turning to Logan. He grunted, but nodded his head in conformation.

“See? You’re meant to help us. We’re meant to be together! Like peanut butter and jelly, or Rose, Blanche, Dorothy, and Blind Al is Sophia.” Wade’s eyes were wide like saucers, and held a child-like excitement in them.

Logan scrubbed his hands over his face, but could not find the words to speak. On the other hand, the woman was giggling behind her hand so as to not aggravate or encourage anyone. But she eventually composed herself enough to form a sentence.

“I guess when you put it like that. I could be convinced to help you guys.” At her acceptance, Wade let out a happy yelp and clapped, while Logan just gave a small smile to the woman.

“Let’s go! Awesome. What do we do know?” He rattled off, stopping both Logan and the woman.

“What?”

“You don’t have a plan for what to do afterwards?” Logan snarled. Wade shook his head sheepishly.

“Why don’t we go get something to eat? I don’t have anything going on for the rest of my day. And I could certainly use some food.” Once more, Logan snarled at the merc who was looking giddy and terrified at the same time.

“What? Did I say something?” She asked, worry clouding her face.

“Nothing. Come on. Adventure awaits, mother Mary!” Wade skirted past Logan and grabbed the woman by the hand to lead her to the door.

It was going to be a rough morning, but there was nothing else that anyone wanted to be doing.

[circe69]

Could I please request 21.) zipping up a dress for you - "what, is the zipper stuck or something?" "no, 'm just looking." With Ghost? Like I can just imagine the tension if they weren’t together yet and they were still just in a ‘will they won’t they’ situation omg 😭💕 thank you!

absolutely anon! thanks for participating in my special :)

["what, is the zipper stuck or something?" "no, 'm just looking."]

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 #𝟐𝟏 - 𝐳𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐮𝐩 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 - ❤︎

This was the worst-case scenario that you could possibly think of. Tonight, the Task Force was holding a banquet as a means of celebrating their recent victory, rescuing Kate Laswell back from being kidnapped. They were holding an auction, all the proceeds were to fund communities around them, specifically to help with missing kids.

The dress you were wearing, or, supposed to wear, was a little less than comfortable. A slim-fitting maroon gown that's zipper was stuck on it's on teeth, and it wasn't even halfway up your back yet.

You sighed as you stared at your backside in the mirror, most of it being completely exposed, showing off some freckles and birthmarks you completely forgot you had, and also some rather ugly scars and scratches from years past.

Thinking about who you could call, everyone was in meetings or preparing for the event themselves, all except for one person.

Ghost.

You rolled your eyes at the thought. He was an amazing solider, the best of the best, obviously, but when it came to making friends or being nice at all, he didn't know what he was doing.

It is different, and you can see that. Making conversation and willingly being kind whilst doing so wasn't the same as aiming a pistol and shooting it, but surely, he had other traits that allowed the former?

You were about to find out.

Picking up your phone in your slightly sweaty and clammy hands, you realized how stressed you really were. You dialed his number, his contact's name not even attached to it because you never bothered.

"Hello?" A deep voice spoke from the other side of the phone.

You inhaled sharply, and he immediately recognized who it was.

"Oh great, it's you," he spoke, and you could tell his mouth was stretched into a sly smile.

"Yes, it's me, I need help."

You heard Ghost shuffle around quickly, maybe even a knife being thrown out of its pocket, "What's wrong?"

Walking over to unlock the front door to hopefully let him in later, you balanced your phone between your bare shoulder and cheek, "No, nothing- nothing's seriously wrong, my dress just won't zip up and everyone else is busy."

Silence. You and Ghost marinated in it for a few seconds, and you swear you heard his tongue click against his teeth, something he only did when he was excited.

You heard him stand from his chair over the phone, "So I was the last resort? That's kinda mean, don't ya think?"

He was having a ball with this, but you on the other hand, your back was chilly and both of you had to be somewhere in less than an hour, so you wanted this show to get on the road.

"Just hurry up and GET. IN. HERE." Your words became decreased to nothing but a whispered shout at the end of your sentence, signaling how serious you were.

"Sheesh, woman, I'll be right the-"

You hung up before he could finish his sentence, and did one last look in the mirror to make sure nothing too scandalous was showing. It wasn't even 5 minutes that passed when there was a knock on your door.

"Come in," you yelled from your place in the bedroom. You heard the door creak open, "I'm in my room."

The sound of loafers clicking on your floor filled the hallway and echoing off the walls, right into your ears. You paused for a moment, realizing if Ghost was attending this event, he'd be dressed up too. That was something you weren't prepared to see.

He walked in, one hand in his pocket and the other fixing his simple black mask. No skull, no dirt, no face paint, no blood splattered. It was somehow classy. Ghost wore a regular black tux, a black tie tucked into his blazer, and a pristine white shirt peeking out from underneath it all.

It was safe to say the both of you were impressed with each other's outfits. His eyes skimmed over you, stopping right when he got to your hips. The red dress hugged them perfectly, dropping down into a regular A-line below. The train dragged on the ground, a few sparkles gently appearing at the edge.

"Wow."

You smiled at his loss for words. "Wow yourself, you look great. Now please, zip this thing up." You turned around, your bare back now facing Ghost, and his breath faltered at the sight. He took a few steps towards you without saying anything.

He was so close, you could feel his breath on your neck, it was deep and heavy, the way he was breathing. Like he was nervous, or excited, or maybe both. His hands were hesitant, but you slightly flinched as his fingers softly traced the slope of your back, slowly moving up and down. It was so soft, you weren't sure if he was even touching you at times, but instead just basking in the heat you were radiating.

"Is it really stuck? I might just have to ditch it if it's not working," you said, not sure if you were talking to yourself or him anymore.

"No, I'm - 'm just looking."

Your jaw slightly unhinged at his blatant confession. Just looking?

Finally, his fingers dipped lower to reach the zipper, and you shivered at the feeling.

"Hm. You ticklish?" He said as he slowly pulled up the zipper, leaving a finger in front so he could trace the entirety of your spine one last time.

"No," you said breathily. He didn't need to know how dizzy his touch was making you.

"Not really in any hurry, are we now?" His voice was dangerously low, seductively teasing you, and you loved it.

You shivered once more when his fingers reached the top of your back, drawing a small circle with his pointer finger on your skin.

"You have a birthmark there."

Humming in response, you turned around to face him. "Yes."

"You had a few more, but I was scared if I touched them, you'd freak out."

He started to walk out, looking both ways out the dark hallway as if he was crossing a street.

"I wouldn't freak out." You blurted, making him stop in his tracks, "You don't have to worry about that."

He nodded and said over his shoulder, "Noted."

[hazbinshusk]

blitzø x succubus!reader. when blitzø picks a fight with you over your job, the two of your end up in a screaming match. but when tensions between you break, the two of you do what you do best... fuck each other's brains out.

featuring: slut-shaming out of insecurity, misogynistic language, dom!blitzø, orgasm denial, an unsubtle reference to hazbin hotel.

anon request. 2k.

“Fucking Christ, you’re a dick!” you snap, storming into your apartment. You make to slam the door behind you but Blitzø catches hold of it before it can meet the frame and stalks in after you.

“Of course I fuckin’ am!” he bites back, tail snapping behind him like a whip. “You go out and act like a fuckin’ whore and I’m—”

“Excuse me?” you spin on your heel, eyes blazing. “What the fuck did you just say?!”

“You go out there and throw yourself at these fuckin’ Envy cock-sleeve cunts and—”

“It’s my job, Blitz!” you shout, outraged. You toss your bag on the couch, ignoring it when it bounces off the cushion and spills its contents onto the carpet. “I serve drinks, I laugh at their stupid jokes, and I distract them from the game just enough to fuck up their chances at the pot! That’s it!”

“Distract ‘em with your fuckin’ tits in their face?!”

You scoff, an ugly sound, shrugging off your jack and tossing it aside. Your uniform is admittedly reminiscent of the Playboy Bunny look from up on Earth, except with a skirt and thankfully without the ears. You tug at the bowtie and collar your wear irritably. Sure, it was a little ridiculous, but it fit into the décor of the casino, and the Overlord in charge paid well. Plus, he cared enough about his workers that the clientele rarely took their ogling too far.

And outside of the Lust Ring, that’s really the best a Succubus can ask for.

“What, now you have a problem with the fucking uniform?” you snarl incredulously. You’re not sure if you should be flattered or even more outraged that Blitzø actually has the audacity to check you out now that your outfit is on display. “You were such a fucking fan a few weeks ago!”

“Fuuuuck you!”

“No, fuck you, Blitz. This is the best job I’ve had in years, I make great tips, and you’re not gonna make me feel shitty about it!”

Blitzø’s hands are balled into tight fists by his sides, his jaw set into a poisonous, angry line. “That’s because those fish-fuckers think they’ll get a lap dance outta ya if they flash their fuckin’ wad at your dumb cunt—”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Your hand comes up automatically, and Blitzø catches hold of your wrist before your palm can make contact with the side of his face. The two of you glare at each other for a beat before his mouth is on yours in a rough, hungry kiss. Blitzø groans into it, his other hand coming up to the side of your face, fisting in the hair by your ear. He pushes his tongue into your mouth, ignoring the way you try to tug your arm out of his grip. His hand is so tight on your wrist that you can feel the bones ache.

He presses you back against the arm of the couch, pushing his knee up between your thighs. You moan when he releases your hair to grab at your waist instead, urging your hips into movement and grinding you down against the muscle of his thigh.

It takes you a moment to remember your fury, and you push a hand against his chest, shoving him away from you. “Fuck, Blitz! You can’t just call me a whore and then—”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps, kissing you again, his teeth grazing your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Motherfucker, that’s hot,” Blitzø growls, wrapping a hand around your throat and pulling your back against his chest. You turn your head and his mouth meets yours in a messy, torrid kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth. You whine into it, breath catching as his other hand comes up to clutch at your breast, squeezing the flesh roughly. You’re sitting on his lap, skirt pulled up around your waist, underwear gone. Blitzø has his tail wrapped possessively around your waist, keeping you against him, and his hand comes down to scratch claws over the flesh that curves between the bands of his tail. They leave lines of red against your skin – claiming marks. “Do it again.”

You nod obediently, eagerly, rolling your hips slowly over his lap. It grinds your soaking, naked cunt over the bulge of his erection, still trapped in the confines of his pants. Blitzø snarls at the feeling of it, hand tightening around your throat enough that your breath catches and your eyes roll back.

“Needy little slut,” he hisses in your ear, pinching your nipple, hard. “Fuck, you feel so good.”

“Uhn… Blitz…” you moan, eyes squeezed closed, as his fingers lift your skirt further and rubs at your clit. “Fuck… Fuck, I wanna cum…”

His hand is immediately withdrawn, both hands instead taking hold of your waist and forcing you to still against him.

“I bet you fuckin’ do,” Blitzø snickers as you curse your frustration, pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss to the side of your throat. Your eyelids flutter and your brow furrows at the feeling of it, your cunt throbbing. Blitzø grazes his teeth along your shoulder, his voice rough, husky. “Bet you wanna cum all over this cock, don’t you?”

You whine despite yourself, need outweighing dignity. Still, your mind continues its chant of fuck you as you try once again to grind down onto his lap. Blitzø pushes you off him just enough to remove the temptation, and you hear his pants unfasten, hear him groan as he fists his cock in his hand. He strokes it, the back of his knuckles brushing against your lower back with every movement.

“Say it,” he orders, and the breathlessness of his voice mirrors your own neediness. Still, he doesn’t cave, retaking hold of your thighs and holding you flush against his lap. You can feel his erection against the cleft of your ass. “Say you want me to fuck you like a good little slut.”

“Fuck you, Blitz.”

“Say it,” he repeats, teeth digging into your shoulder for a moment. It makes your eyes roll back. Or maybe that’s the way his claws clutch at your thighs, moving up the soft flesh just enough that his thumbs brush against the edges of your cunt. “Say you want my thick fuckin’ cock to fuck you right in your sweet, tight little pussy.”

The spade of his tail slips between your thighs to tap against your clit, and you buck under his grip. Your head falls forward, eyes squeezed shut. “Tell me you want me to fuck you.”

You mean to scoff, the sound strangled as he grinds his cock up against you. “If this… fuck… this whole thing is about your goddamned ego, Blitz— fuck…”

He growls into your throat, shifting his hips and sliding his cock up between your thighs. The length of it teases over your clit, and your head falls back against his shoulder, eyes screwed shut as you try to steady your breathing. Blitzø continues to tease his tongue up the side of your throat, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your pulse point. He sucks, tasting the blood that wells up under his fangs, marking you with a bruise.

“Say. It.”

“Fuck me,” you gasp out, wriggling your hips in an attempt to make the head of his cock slip into your dripping cunt. “Please, Blitz… I want you to fuck me.”

“Fuckin’ finally,” he groans, fisting the base of his cock in one hand and lining it up with your hole. Your breath hitches as the head of him slides into you, and you moan brokenly as he retakes hold of your hips and jerks you back down onto his lap, his cock filling you in one hard, brutal thrust. “Shiiiit…”

“Holy fuck, Blitz,” you moan, reaching one hand up and behind you to grasp at one of his horns, turning your head to kiss him again. Blitzø lets you, using it as a chance to adjust to the feeling of your tight, wet heat around him. The kiss is messy and hungry and he hisses as you catch his lip between your teeth.

He presses his forehead against yours, hands so tight on your hips you’re sure the bruises they leave will bare his fingerprints. “You’re gonna fuck yourself on my cock,” he tells you, a growl rumbling under his words, voice tight. “And you’re gonna tell me just how fuckin’ good it feels, got it?”

You nod quickly, embarrassedly needy, and Blitzø’s hands relax enough for you to begin rolling your hips over his. You don’t ease either of you into it, immediately taking up a pace that reflects both your need and your frustration with his bullshit. The imp continues to curse against your skin, and claws leaving tracks over your thighs.

“Oh, fuck, Blitz…” you moan, voice high-pitched and reedy. You wrap an arm around his neck, grasping at the back of the sofa to help you bounce yourself on his cock. “Oh, fuck, you feel good…”

“Damn fuckin’ right, I do.” he groans, fingers finding your clit again. He pinches it, and you whimper, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip. “Tell me who gets to fuck you, bitch.”

“You do,” you reply obediently and he grins, teasing his fingers over your clit ruthlessly as a reward. You seize up, your body tightening as an orgasm breaks inside you, tightening around him as your cum soaks his lap. Your voice comes breathily. “Just… just you.”

“Christ, baby…” he grunts, a break in the tone he’s been using with all night. The desperate lilt to his voice makes you shudde. “Just me.”

“Just you,” you repeat, eyes rolling back as he fucks himself up into you. “Fuck… it’s just you, Blitz…”

Blitzø pushes you off his lap, wrangling you forward so you’re bent over the coffee table, his hips hammering into yours. You moan, loud enough that you hear one of the neighbors pound their fist on the wall in the hopes it will make you shut up.

“’Cause you’re mine.” Blitzø snarls, claws digging into your hips. You clutch at the edge of the coffee table, his thrusts hard enough that you can feel the table shifting on the carpet. His tail wraps so tightly around your thigh that you can feel pins and needles beginning to throb through the muscle. “Fucking mine…”

“I’m yours,” you agree, and you can feel your cum slick on your thighs and your mouth hanging open dumbly as he fucks you. “I’m yours, Blitz. I’m yours, yours, yours…”

“Satan’s fuckin’ ass!” Blitzø shouts as he cums, thrusting into you one final time so hard that your legs give out and you collapse onto the table. He falls against your back, cock sliding out of you and cum dripping down your thighs. “Shiiiit…”

You take gasping breathes as you try to calm down, and you’re sure Blitzø can feel your heart hammering as he presses his face against your spine. The corset of your uniform suddenly feels too tight, your ribs aching beneath it. “Fuck…”

“Fuck is right.”

“Can you…” you gesture blindly towards the corset’s ties. “I can’t…”

You feel Blitzø nod before he pulls back, his claws finally releasing your hips in favor of loosening the strings holding your corset in place. You exhale heavily as soon as you feel them release, holding the corset against your waist as you sit up.

“…We don’t need to talk about what just happened, do we?” you ask cagily. The two of you haven’t ever even approached a conversation about how serious this… thing between you is, and the idea of starting now, still dripping in…

“Nuh-uh,” Blitzø shakes his head so emphatically you’re almost surprised you don’t hear it rattle.

“Thank fuck,” you sigh, letting yourself collapse back onto the table. Blitzø snickers and you smile, punch drunk, as he smooths his hand over the marks he’s left on one thigh. Your throat still throbs where he bit you. “…You know they’re gonna be pissed at work about all these marks you’ve left on me.”

“Good.”

“Asshole.”

“Yooooooou love it.”

[mangoshorthand]

oh, and it was a guy who decided to tell me that as soon as all my clothes were off

Original request:

I have a really personal request of thats ok w u. my first time having sex i was called ugly and obese, and it still sticks with me nowadays so i shy away from being fully exposed/on top/having the lights on bc im scared they were right and its gonna happen again - so how would 5 deal w this in a partner? if this is too weird 4 u then just ignore

Thanks to @kaybreezy3000 for reading through this before I posted and making me sound less like a wildly-masturbating 19th century nobleman. Note for you at the end, anon.

Venus and Cupid | Five Hargreeves/ F Reader 4k words, Rated E

Five was an observant man: he had to be. If he hadn’t learned to pick up on the details then it's doubtful he could have even made it to adulthood.  

So he noticed that you had quite specific tendencies very early on, back when you were first seeing one another. The first time you had sex, he thought you leaving your clothes on was pretty hot - it seemed as if you were so desperate to have him inside you that you couldn’t delay it even the short time it would take to get undressed - but it quickly became apparent to him that this was something more.

You always seemed to leave as many clothes on as humanly possible, or else turn off the lights before undressing shyly, almost reluctantly, always keeping something clutched around you. 

His first reaction was to feel frustrated, (okay, frustrated and insecure, if you insisted on wheedling that out of him). Were you even into it? 

He loved the sex you had, and you certainly seemed to get something out of it, but all the while you were covering yourself from his lustful gaze like he was a lecherous drunk eyeing you from down an alley. 

He just didn’t understand it. Things were great outside the bedroom: you laughed together, you had intelligent, lively conversations��you even romanced him in a way nothing had taught him to expect. You anticipated his wants, you surprised him with dates and the occasional gift. You made him feel special and wanted in every way except this one way.

And he needed it that way too.

Maybe there was something about sex that brought home to you that he was old enough to be your father. Maybe you saw his hungry gaze as the leer of a dirty, predatory old man...and that thought hurt because it held too much truth.

He finally asked you about it after a session of sex in which you looked distinctly uncomfortable riding him, avoiding his gaze and keeping the bed sheets wrapped around you. 

He brought it up in a way typical to him: blunt antagonism as defense, masking his real insecurities. “Question: why are you with me?”

“Because I like you,” you replied, confused by his tone.

“Sure,” he said, the smallest trace of sarcasm in his voice, “but there’s a problem here, isn’t there?”

You turned to him on the pillow, and you were greeted by his expectant, irritated smile. He raised a brow, clearly prompting you to state this so-called ‘problem’. When you seemed none the wiser, he continued. 

“The problem seems to be that you hate having sex with me.” 

You looked at him, nonplussed.

“No I don’t. Why would you say that?”

He shook his head with the trace of a bitter laugh. 

“So you just hate me looking at you, is that it? You know, nobody’s forcing you to sleep with me. We could just end it if you can’t stand me ogling you.”

You turned away from him, folding your arms across your chest protectively, hugging yourself. You tried not to cry, but tears were already welling in your eyes, threatening to overspill and roll down your face. You could feel him slipping away; sense the rejection coming on the breeze.

At the sound of a sniffle, Five softened slightly 

“Why do you always cover yourself?” he said, finally.

You choked back the tears.

“B-because I’m self-conscious about my body, okay?”

Five sounded incredulous.

“You’re self-conscious about your body?”

You nodded, still not looking at him.

“Don’t bullshit me,” he said, suddenly irritated again, “You expect me to believe someone who looks like you is self conscious about her body? You’re beautiful, what the hell do you got to be self conscious about?”

His words, though spoken in a tone of irritated disbelief, gave you a warm feeling in your chest. In fact, it was his irritation that assured you of his honesty. That feeling of affirmation brought more tears at first, and it took a few moments to recover.

Five waited for you to begin patiently, able to tell by now that you’d been holding something back, and realizing for the first time that perhaps this wasn’t all about him.

You told him everything.

Your first sexual experience was with somebody who called you ‘ugly’ and ‘obese’ as soon as your clothes were removed. The first man to touch you in that way had used that privilege, not to lift you up and make you feel beautiful, but to tear you down, destroying your confidence in the process. Now, being in full view when having sex was almost unbearable to you, so you avoided Five seeing you completely naked and you avoided being on top as far as you could, lest it break the illusion and he see you for what you really were. 

You stopped occasionally to cry, unable to meet Five’s eyes. It was partially the memories, and partly the fact that you were bearing your soul to him in this way: totally vulnerable. You were giving power to him now; knowledge of how to hurt you worse than almost anything if he chose. 

As he listened, Five’s heavy brows lowered further and further, his lips becoming thinner and thinner, occasionally shaking his head as you unfolded the tale.

“Shit.” he said, after you finished your story, and then fell into silence. After almost a full minute, he spoke in a low, serious tone.

“What was his name?”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said, wiping your eyes.

“What was his name?”

You told him.

“Well he’s a fucking idiot, you know that right? A nasty little…you know where he lives?”

“No.”

“No problem, I can find him.”

“Five-”

“First I’ll pull out his fucking fingernails.”

“Five, no.”

“I’ll kill that cunt slow. Ignorant-”

“Five!” 

Your raised voice finally made him turn his head.

“What good would killing him do?”

He blinked. 

“It would make me feel better,” he said, though the murderous fantasies seemed to be fading from behind his eyes. 

Then, he shook his head, casting the thoughts away like a dog shaking off water. 

“....I  admit that making me feel better is low on our priority list right now.”

He held out his arms to you. When you didn’t immediately enter his embrace, he spoke in a voice so soft, and so caring that you couldn’t deny him. 

“Please, my love.” 

My love?

That was new. 

You leaned up against him, and he wrapped his arms tightly around you, one around your shoulders, the other around your waist. 

“You don’t have to feel self-conscious or…ashamed around me. You know I would never - you know that I…I worship you, for Chist’s sake. I’m desperate to see all of you. That guy was an ignorant, tasteless bastard. You don’t - surely you know that?”

You nodded uncertainly, another tear running down the side of your nose. 

“I guess,” you said, mouth against his firm pectoral, feeling the steady rhythm of his heart, “but I always get scared. Like you might…like one day you might see me and...get grossed out. Because…I know, I know I’m not sexy. I know I’m -”

“You think you aren’t sexy?” he said, speaking as if you’d just claimed that you were an organic cucumber, “are you crazy?” 

He pulled away from you, a hand on each shoulder so he could look you dead in the eye.

“Jesus, you think I’d be ‘grossed out’ if I saw you? I’m not blind, y'know; a bedsheet or a light switch can’t really hide your body from me. You’re so sexy, I can barely think straight sometimes - how in the hell can you not see that? I’d choose you for looks over any girl, every damn time. The other day when you were wearing that tight black dress- god, I pitched a tent big enough to sleep eight.”

And the way he looked down at your silhouette had you almost believing him.

You smiled, nevertheless self conscious of the idea of your black dress being more form-hugging than you’d thought. Five continued, sweeping his hair carelessly out of his eyes. 

“And it’s not just your face or your body, it’s the way you carry yourself. The way your hair falls, your smile, the color of your skin. It’s just attractive. It’s hot. End of story.”

The vehemence in his face made you smile a little more. He looked the way he did when he’d just completed a complex mathematical proof: buzzing with the knowledge of pure, objective truth. From his perspective, he had just conclusively proved an undeniable fact. 

“I know I’m biased because I love you, but anyone would say that you’re beautiful. When you met Klaus, he took me aside and told me I was punching way over my weight. I didn’t even argue-”

But you interrupted him.

“You love me?”

He fell silent abruptly, playing back his last words in his mind.

Yup, he’d definitely said it. 

He swallowed. He was an idiot.

“Well yes. Actually, I do.” 

Before you had time to do anything except gape, he rushed to fill the silence:

“I know it’s not been too long, and I don’t expect you to feel the same-”

“But I do.”

He fell silent again, his eyes on yours. 

They were strange eyes. Their shape and color, although beautiful, were normal enough, but there was a little something in their expression that always took you firmly by the throat. One might fall into those eyes and drown, yet his hand, coming to take yours, tethered you to the water’s edge. 

“You sure?”

“Never been more sure of anything,” you breathed.

His lips gave a spasm and, for a moment, you both thought he was going to cry too, but instead, he just smiled. He smiled for you a lot, but the clear, open love in this one was like being bathed in warm sunlight, and you luxuriated in it.

Then, he laughed. He giggled, in fact. It bubbled up his throat and out of his mouth before he could temper it into anything that sounded more sophisticated.

“We love each other,” he said, grinning in a dopey, infectious way.

When you smiled back, he cupped your chin gently, those eyes keeping your face upturned to his just as firmly as his hand did. He leaned into you.

At first, his kiss was tender, and your lips slid past and around one another like an embrace. But when he leaned forward, forcing you back onto your pillows, his tongue entered your mouth, and the kiss took on a more amorous character. He made a low noise as he deepened his tongue’s quest into your mouth, and you reciprocated with a soft bite to his lower lip. 

He growled, and heat spread through you as his kiss became rough and firm, pressing you into the pillows now with the weight of his body. All the tenderness had transferred from his lips to his hands, one stroking reassuringly through your hair, and the other at your waist, giving you feather-light, electric touches through the bedsheets.

Your hands came to his subtly muscled back, and cinched him closer to you. The heat was concentrating now, pooling in your lower stomach and swirling there as his unyielding lips let you know that resistance was futile. Your skin was alight with every gentle, loving touch from his fingers, now starting to work their way beneath the bedsheets.

He broke the kiss just long enough to speak. His voice matched the kiss: deep, rough and feral.

“Let me see you.”

Though it was a command, it had the sound of a request, so you took it as such.

Despite the desire now aching in your guts, your fears were still there: perhaps irrational in this situation, but no less real. Beneath the sheets, Five’s hand squeezed and massaged the flesh just above your hip. The touch spoke of his renewed need, but it spoke also of his restraint: his hand had stopped just shy of the area you’d usually hide.

“Please.”

And the word, in that husky voice, broke you. 

“Okay,” you said, arousal threatening to be overcome by nerves, “just…take it slowly.”

He nodded distractedly. His eyes were roaming your skin as he came to kneel between your legs. Both of his hands were now inching the bedsheets down, from your waist to the swell of your hips.

He made a low noise in his throat, and his soft hair fell onto the newly-exposed torso as he bent to kiss it, hot presses of his lips against sensitive skin. His hands skimmed you, feeling out your flesh.

“So beautiful,” he growled, looking up at you, fingers worming their way beneath the sheets again, “is this okay?”

You nodded as he pulled the sheets down another few inches, exposing your stomach to just below the navel. As the air met the newly-exposed skin, you felt gooseflesh prickle across your arms, your stomach tightening with the feeling of exposure. “Pretty girl.” Five cooed, running his hands across your tummy, his pressure gentle, but proprietary. 

With another slow shift of the sheets, and you were exposed to your pubic bone. He let out a breath and squeezed the skin of your hips, smiling at you broadly. It was the dangerous, toothy smile.

“I’m sorry, my love, but I’m afraid we’re going to have to get you over this. I’m going to have to make you realize how fucking hot you are, because I’m going to need to hold onto you just like this while you bounce on my cock. I need to watch these tits bounce while you ride me.”

He squeezed your flank harshly, making you gasp, and you arched your back into him as he leaned forward to take each nipple into his mouth. There was a low rumble in his throat as he first nibbled, and then soothed each tortured bud with his tongue. Your whines tailed off into moans, as arousal and the intensity of his desire once again overcame your fears. 

You felt his satisfied smile around your nipples, and then his hands left your hips to paw and knead your breasts, weighing and bouncing them in each hand. 

He gave you another kiss on the lips before straightening up, so that he was kneeling over you again, head tilted as he looked down on you, almost speculatively. The position made it obvious that he was hard again, his bulge stretching the fabric of his white boxer-briefs, leaning up against his stomach and beginning to put pressure on the elastic of his waistband. His pretty, curved cock was perfectly outlined by the material: 

“I’m going to make you feel so confident that you’ll push me onto the bed, trap me between your thighs and ride me so hard I get a concussion against the headboard.”

Though the idea made you feel another squirm of discomfort, the humor combined with the lust behind his eyes made you give a small smile.

“Not today,” you said, in a small voice.

The memories were still too close…the hurt from recalling them was only just over the horizon. 

“Not today.” he confirmed, eyes roving down to where the bedsheets still covered your sex, “but can I see your pussy, beautiful?”

“Yes.” you said, barely more than a whisper.

“Mm. Good girl,” he groaned, and pulled the bedsheets down to your knees. 

There you were, fully exposed to him…totally bared. Internally, you were fighting between the urge to cover up, and the urge to please him. You still felt exposed, like a turtle without its shell, vulnerable laid out in front of him. 

He was still taking it all in, eyes lingering on where your thighs were as close together as they could be with his body between your calves.

Part of you was still terrified it was coming. Perhaps he wouldn’t be cruel -  he’d probably try to be polite about it - but he was still about to reject you now that he’d finally got a real look. Perhaps it was okay when his imagination could fill in the blanks, but now he’d actually seen you - 

“Oh,” he said.

And in that syllable, all your fears were proved baseless. The sound was a moan of pure, wanton appreciation.

His tongue slid out to wet his lips, still pink and swollen from his hard kisses. His dominant left hand slid immediately into his underwear, and he began to pump himself vigorously. Apparently, he was more than ready for this evening’s second round. 

“Oh my god,” he groaned, speeding his strokes as his eyes roamed your exposed flesh, “you’re so hot.”

As his eyes came to your thighs and pussy again, he increased the frequency of his strokes, fist still out of sight down his underwear. 

“Five,” you said, anxiously, still feeling slightly uncomfortable. 

“Just a few minutes, baby.” he said, desperately, “Look what you’re doing to me.”

Beneath the material, he retracted his foreskin and pressed the head of his cock against the small, wet patch that had appeared there. The pink of his deeply-flushed cock tip was just visible through the fabric, rendered semi-transparent by his precome.

“I’m already leaking.” he said, agony creeping into his rough voice, “Just a few more minutes. Just until I finish.”

His eyes looked hazy, far away somehow, transported to a place where his body’s need ruled him with an iron fist. It was enchanting to behold, impossibly arousing: Five Hargreeves (the man of impeccably starched, pressed and tightly-buttoned dress shirts), was keening in front of you, totally undone with his hips gyrating into his own fist as he visually devoured your body.

“Let me eat you,” he said, begging now, “I want to jack myself off with my head between those thighs.”

And he groaned at the idea, throwing his head back and speeding his pumps.

Your body didn’t give you the opportunity to turn him down. Your pussy throbbed and slick wetness drooled onto your thighs as you looked up at him, all pale skin, latent strength and desperation.

You gave a small nod, and he bent, first to kiss your lips and then to press small pecks onto each thigh.

“That’s it, baby,” he whispered, “open your legs for me. Show me that pretty pussy.”

And that way, with small kisses progressively further up your thighs, he coaxed your legs wide.

“Good girl,” he crooned, his hand leaving his leaking cock only for the minute it would take to run his index finger up and down your slit. 

You shivered at the contact, too sensitive. He’d already fingered and fucked you to two orgasms tonight, and the feeling of his mouth replacing his finger made you buck immediately. 

“Nngh - Five.”

In response to your moan, he tasted you with a flat tongue. 

Your flavor, a potent honey, made his cock twitch in his hand, and he wrapped his free arm around your leg, drawing you even closer to him. Your soft folds soaked his lips, serving to excite him more.

“Fuck,” he whispered, still in that low growl. His exhale sent warm air dancing across your swollen clit, “you’re so perfect. I love you. I love you so fucking much.”

You had no time to glow with his praise, because he was sucking your clit too hard for you to do anything but gasp. As his mouth worked you, his tongue moved rapidly inside his mouth, flicking deliberately across your aching, needy nub. His tongue pulsed to the same beat as his hand inside his underwear, unconsciously matching the rhythm of your pleasure to his.

“God, Five!”

All the shame and discomfort was gone, washed away by the tide of swirling heat. The pleasure curled inside you, winding tighter and tighter. All that mattered now was Five’s clever mouth, pushing you inexorably towards another orgasm. 

Your conscious brain let go, and your hand gripped his hair tightly, not aware that you were pulling him even closer to you, forcing his nose into your mound. 

He grunted like a wounded bear, surprise causing his hand to falter around his cock. It was hard to concentrate, so preoccupied was he by the fact that you were taking control, pressing his face deeper into your folds. It was quite possibly the hottest thing he had ever experienced.

Recovering, he gripped himself even tighter, veins and tendons standing out in his left forearm as he worked himself almost violently. 

He was too close now, and it made him clumsy, completely losing the rhythm of his suckles and tonguing. 

“Nooo!” you whined, thighs tightening around his head, “Like before!”

Though lightheaded with the knowledge that your thighs were crushing his ears, (he was wrong earlier, this was definitely the hottest thing he had ever experienced), Five reluctantly let up on his protesting manhood and concentrated his efforts on your pussy. 

Soon, you were gasping and moaning, writhing, and taking him with you with the power of your thighs. 

“F-Five. Fuuuck. Oh fuck, that’s it!” 

Your cunt gushed onto his face as he brought you to orgasm. He groaned again as his chin and cheeks were soaked with sweet slickness. He strained to hear you scream his name, your thighs rendering him deaf as they clutched around his ears. While he couldn’t hear the individual words, he certainly heard enough to flatter his ego. 

Wave after wave of ecstasy was crashing through you, and you babbled meaninglessly: unconnected, incomprehensible syllables. Behind closed eyes, you were seeing stars, completely unaware of everything but the explosion going on in your lower body.

He withdrew, finally, when your thighs relaxed and your climax abated to spasms down your limbs. As you were still catching your breath, he rose to his knees, wiped his sodden mouth, and took himself in hand again, looking at you splayed, completely on display and too drunk on his sex to care.

It took him fewer than ten pumps to bring himself to orgasm. 

“Fucking gorgeous - cunt tastes so good. Mm - fucking perfect, so fucking hot. Oh shit!”

Eyebrows raised, mouth wide in a perfect ‘o’, he exploded into his underwear.

You could see his first shots of come soaking through the material before he was even finished painting their insides with spurts of his thick seed: an impressive load given the fact it was his second in under an hour. 

His throat ground out a low whine as he slowed his hand. 

He took four or five seconds to catch his breath, and in that time your conscious mind took a firmer hold. Though you pulled the bedsheets up and over you, it was more for physical comfort rather than mental. 

Five crawled beneath the sheets beside you, still breathing hard. When he collapsed on the pillow, he turned to you.

“Believe me now?” he asked, “you think I’d wank myself raw over someone I thought was ugly?”

You smiled and let out a small puff of air; a shy little laugh.

He propped himself up on one elbow while his other hand caressed your body beneath the sheets.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, firmly, “To me, you’re a renaissance painting, and I was there when Titian finished Venus and Cupid, okay?”

“Okay,” you murmured, eyes already heavy, “I’m sorry that I squeezed your head with my legs.”

“You kidding me?” he said, amused, “You could break my neck with your thighs and I’d die happy…what a way to go.”

“Well,” you said, a little discomfort returning, “I still feel bad.”

“Baby steps,” he said, voice as soft as his hand now stroking hair away from your eyes, “soon I’ll have you riding me fast and rough.”

You smiled and let his caresses close your tired eyes. After a few minutes, in which he looked lovingly down at your gentle doze, his voice sounded again.

“Can I at least beat the living shit out of that guy?”

You considered.

“...Maybe.”

NOTE: Dear sweet, anonymous girl, I see you. You did not deserve this, and this was never your problem. These formative experiences really do hurt us, and yours was such an extreme version that I'm not surprised it's given you these insecurities. I can promise you, it does get better. Feminism and loving yourself is at least half the battle, but nothing quite cements the truth like this: One day, you will be naked in front of a guy you trust completely. He'll look at you with that lustful, testosterone-fuelled glower and you'll know without a shadow of a doubt that, to him, you are venus.

Megalist

Request info + rules

I take Five requests, I'm fairly versatile in what I write (fluff, smut, angst, psychological character study- I'll try it all) but I will consider them on a case by case basis. See request info + rules for request status and more.

[lillypad910]

So I just read your fic with Big Dick!Billy and I were wondering if you could do something like this with reader being a Cheerleader and a Queen Bee (pretty much like Regina George) and he just put her in her place in public… >///<

Queen Bee

Pairing: King Billy! Billy Hargrove x Queen Bee! f! Reader

Warning: references sex (oral specifically), but doesn't have any smut. Sexual tension is STRONG; very much enemies with benefits vibe. Reader is dating Tommy (helped with the Regina vibe, ok).

Summary: You're the Queen Bee of Hawkins and everyone loves you, except one certain King of the school, Billy Hargrove.

A/n: You didn't specify if you wanted smut or not so I didn't write it for it, HOWEVER, I'm open to writing it if you want me to, Anon! So please let me know!!

You are the Queen of Hawkins High, from your attitude to the way you dress. Every girl wants to be you, every boy wants to fuck you. You are everything.

You smile wide as you finish out the routine, raising your pompoms up into the air for the final pose. You have been practicing all morning with the rest of the girls, well, almost. Nicole hasn't shown up, and practice is already ending.

"Alright! Good job, everyone! You've all done amazing!" Coach Lively smiles at all of you. "You are dismissed for the day, enjoy your weekend!" The lot of you step away, but you stay put, requiring Tina and Carol to come to you.

"Oh! Bev!" You turn to your fellow cheerleader, her red hair tied in a high pony, "that skirt is so cute! Where did you get it? I might have to ask Coach about getting them for the Spring Uniforms!" You smile at her.

Beverly's cheeks go red, the corners of her lips pull up into a smile. "Oh! Thank you! I actually got it from my mom's closet..." She gives a small twirl, which your posy giggle at.

"Ooh, vintage! Love it!" You watch her walk away and turn to the two girls behind you, "That skirt is so ugly. Why would her mom own that?" They snicker.

You step out of Tommy's passenger seat, him following shortly after you, throwing his arm around your waist. Carol steps up beside you, glancing away at the show of affection as her recent ex-boyfriend clings to you like a lost puppy. You all step into the house party, Tina walking up to you and smiling.

"Tommy, could you go get us a drink?" You turn to your boyfriend, hoping to make the boy feel useful.

"Of course!" He gets everyone's drink orders before going to walk off, but someone stops him.

Billy Hargrove blocks his path, making the poor guy knock right into him.

"Sorry, Billy." Tommy recoils a bit before glancing back at you. You try desperately not to roll your eyes.

"Tommy, Baby..." You bat your eyelashes at him, "Our drinks?" Carol glances at him then you, before looking away again, obviously uncomfortable with the name calling but too scared to say anything.

"On it!" Tommy perks up, but Billy once again steps in his way. This time you don't bother hiding your eyeroll.

"Ugh, Billy, let him pass. Jesus, you're such a nuisance." Your comment makes Tina giggle. "Don't you torture him enough with your stench during practice?"

"Do you always have to be such a bitch?" He counters.

"I just speak truth."

"Truth? While fucking your friend's ex-boyfriend? Please, you're just a whore who doesn't know how to behave." Billy steps closer to you, getting too close for your comfort. His comment get's the attention of some people nearby.

"Excuse you?" You scoff. No one had ever talked to you like that, and they weren't gonna start now.

"You heard me, Bitch. You bite the hand that feeds you enough times it's gonna bite back." He looks you up and down, looking at every curve of your body.

The things he could teach you...

"All high and mighty for a dick with legs." You snicker, "What? Nicole didn't give good enough head today?" You notice the girl behind him look at you, the fear in her eyes fuels you.

"You know, from what I hear, Nicole isn't the only one on her knees regularly... Even the good old King Steve," He lifts his arms, getting the attention of even more on-lookers, "used to shove his cock down your throat. So why don't you get down there and show me just what a good whore you are."

You glare at him, your blood practically boiling. "You're an ass, Billy."

"And you're just a good lay, Queen Bee."

Tag list!

@cagethemunson

@spikeybatt

@cherrycolas-things

@r-a-d-i-0-n-0-w-h-e-r-e

@ali-r3n

[vladdyissues]

I don't know how you do it, Dude, I'm afraid to say that I'm attracted to pompous pep since I know it's wrong to ship a minor and an adult, People are cruel to death, Nobody knows what I like, I hide among the anonymous messages of the internet, Sometimes I see people like you who have their account free mind, People talk very badly about accounts like you, even putting them in places in the fandom to talk badly about them, Fear runs through me, I want to draw pompous Pep, Maybe I'm not attracted to the sexual, But I really feel like it's wrong and it hurts me

You've been at this for a while, right? Your account is full of pompous Pep (I secretly love your account), How did you manage to have the courage to show yourself?, People look at you badly, say bad things, that you are a sick pedophile and that...How do you achieve this without fear???, are you so brave or god 😭

1️⃣ I'm from old school fandom—pre-Twitter, pre-AO3, pre-Internet-as-we-now-know-it. I've learned to not give a fuck about what stupid, ignorant, uninformed people say on the Internet.

2️⃣ It's not my job to educate or "convert" people who disagree with me. I'm not a missionary. I'm here to have fun, and no one is going to spoil that for me.

3️⃣ I—and you, and anyone else reading this—don't owe anyone on the Internet an explanation, a reason, or any kind of justification for writing stories or drawing pictures of fictional cartoon characters smooching. (It's all so silly, honestly. I have real things to care about, like bills and pets and laundry. I envy people who have nothing to stress about except ink and paint from a 20-year-old Nickelodeon show.)

4️⃣ The media—specifically, the fictional entertainment—we enjoy is not a reflection of our humanity, morality, or an indication of our personal beliefs. If that were true, the police would be arresting authors like Stephen King and George RR Martin for writing about underage sex and incest and gore, as well as anyone who enjoys their works.

You know who does believe that reading something will "pervert" you, or that enjoying "dark things" like murder and violence and age gap ships means you must secretly be committing those things in real life? Fascists. Conservatives. Right-wing nationalist fundamentalist Christian types. People who want to ban queer books from libraries and call anyone who disagrees with them "pedophiles" and "groomers". Remember that the next time you see one of these fandom cops screeching about how so-and-so is a "pedo" because they ship two cartoons. These are people on the wrong side of history. They're anti-intellectual, anti-education, and pro-censorship. Get away from them as fast as you can.

Anon, if it seems like a lot of your friends (or the people you're around) are hating on something you want to enjoy and making you feel unsafe to talk about the things you like, then you need to find better friends. Leave them. Block them. Add their usernames to your content filters so you never have to see their ugly, hateful opinions ever again. You don't need that kind of negativity in your life, especially here on Tumblr, where we're all trying to find things that make us happy and celebrate others' creative works. Life's too short to hang around shitty people 💩

[lookforsomeoneelse]

Thank you very much for doing my ask! I loved how it turned out! Compliments to the chef! Hopefully I'm not being a bother, by asking something again. If I am being a bother, please tell me. I don't want to make you uncomfortable.

Anyway, can we get some more food about sahsrau? Maybe about an reader who has a lot of scars all over their body, including their face? So others in reader's world call them ugly, till the reader stopped talking to anyone. Except for animals, they love cats for example, so they only talked to cats?

How would the HSR characters react to that? Would they try to help, or would they use that for their own gains? As for who, could you do some headcanons or story about Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Heng, Jingliu? Basically, all the characters who remain of High-Cloud Quintet? Rip to Baiheng.

Other then that, take good care of yourself! And stay hydrated! Cause there are always people who care!

daaaaammmmnnnnn

you better then me that’s for sure

alright

let’s get to it

Started creation on: 7/10/2024

cw for what anon said

Formerly Yingxing, artisan from the Xianzhou Zhuming and previously of the Luofu, he’s an individual that still possesses many wounds- actually one, in the form of Mara. For him, it still bleeds out and he has to get Kafka to patch him up and make him sane.

He’s actually fine with your appearance, though. It’s not that people (in their verse) will find you ugly, instead they’ll find you incredibly good looking, and by proxy people will find those who share the same physical traits as you to be more desirable.

People might even try to look like you! (convince them that it’s a bad idea please)

He doesn’t understand why people dislike you simply for your appearance, but he will cut down anybody who dares to disrespect you.

Ah yes, the man who ditched his responsibility as High Elder of the Vidyadhara to go on a space road trip with his buddies.

I am kidding, of course.

Not really.

As the guard of the Astral Express, he’s probably the one who is the most familiar with you out of the group (as anon said, RIP Baiheng) on this list.

Due to that, the other three… kind of really hate his guts.

Not in the “I want to (this was not included in the content warning) and then (oh god this makes me want to barf) but more like a “I really, really, wish I was in your place” type deal.

Jealousy, in layman’s terms.

_________________________________________ Completed(?) on: 7/16/2024

A/N: holy cow procrastination and writer’s block make for probably the most deadly combo I have ever gone through

probably gonna finish this later??? or maybe not which is sadge 😔

[yangbbokari]

Maknae Line!Skz stood you up on a date

Pairing: Maknae Line!skz x gn!reader Genre: Angst, fluff/comfort, idk Warnings: Nothing much but maybe a little cursing and mentions of insecurities Song rec: Fine - Taeyeon A.N: Requested by 🧈anon, sry this took so long😭 on top of being a student, I just procasinate a lot. Will this have a part 2? idk but we'll c

HAN JISUNG Jisung said that he reserved an expensive restaurant for the two of you to enjoy. But maybe you misheard it and he said for only you to enjoy. Sure you could say it's being too dramatic since he's only late for about thirty minutes. You would like to say that too. If he didn't leave you sitting at a restaurant ordering random plates to await his arrival for two hours. You were getting impatient. You couldn't sit here for much longer or you'd be kicked out. Five minutes, you said. If he didn't show up in the next five minutes, you'd leave.

Spoiler alert, much to your dissappointment, he didn't show up. So you had to pay for the dinner and leave a tip as a "sorry for wasting your time." It ticked you off. For the first time since he got back from tour, this was the date. But he couldn't even show up. It absolutely pissed you off. As you were leaving the restaurant, you got a text. Looking at your phonescreen, it read, Hanji💞

"Sorry I couldn't make it, Bubs."

ping

"I'll make it up to you."

ping

"LOVE YOU😘"

You felt the tears well up in your eyes. This was suppose to be a makeup date. So why were you now walking home in the rain? The soft pitter patter of the rain was doing a good job of covering the sounds of your shattering heart and ugly sobs. All the efforts you put into this date for it not to work out. You even went shopping for a dress just for this occassion. Now it's drenched from the rain.

When you finally got home, it was dark. "Guess he's not home yet." You thought out loud. Suddenly the lights came on and Jisung came from behind the couch.

"Surprise!" He shouted with a cake in his hands. His jolly behavior instantly switched to worry when he saw you in your condition. "B-baby, what's wrong."

Bursting into tears, you crouched down and covered your face with your hands. He also crouched down and held your face, making you look up at him. 

"I'm sorry, Bubs. Don't cry."

"I thought- I thought that you didn't care about me anymore. Like you forgot me. O-or you possibly didn't love me anymore." 

He looked at you guiltily, knowing he's the reason you felt this way. He felt so bad. So he gently place an arm below your knees and the other around your shoulders. Slowly lifting you up and carrying you over to the restroom. 

"Ji! What are you doing!?"

He just shot you a fond yet cheeky smile. Gently removing your articles of clothing. "Jisung... w-wait."

"I gotta make it up to my baby girl somehow." Then he lifted you into the tub. "What were you thinking, Love? What did you think I was gonna do to you?"

Your cheeks flushed a bright pink. "N-nothing!" He chuckled and kissed your temple. "If I was gonna do that, I would've taken you to the bedroom. Don't you think?" No doubt, your ears were most definitely red now. "Whatever..." You mumbled as Jisung filled the tub with warm water. "What was that? I didn't hear you." He teased.

You just crossed your arms and ignored him. Even though, secretly inside, you were more than content with this new memory you'd be holding dear for the rest of your life. ~~~ LEE FELIX Today, you and Felix were supposed to have a home date. A little baking session for the two of you. You went out and bought all the ingredients that were missing. Even though you usually had all of them because of how much the both of you loved to bake. 

Except on this date, Felix was running a little late. If he couldn't make it then he would've found some kind of way to inform you. But you haven't got a single text or call from him in the past hour and a half.

You stayed up for a couple of hours waiting for him. It was already half past midnight and sleep was beginning to take over. With a heavy sigh, you headed to bed. But when you got there, you couldn't fall asleep.

All through the night, you twisted and turned and even counted sheep. You couldn't fall asleep though. 

When you lost all hope, you heard Felix tiptoe to the bedroom door and silently slip into bed. You pretended to be sleeping, not wanting to worry him. It wasn't long before he fell asleep and that's when you arose. You could smell the foul odor of alcohol on your boyfriend and it made you- Well not exactly upset but disappointed.

After grabbing your phone off the nightstand, you made your way to the guest bedroom. The time read, 3:48 a.m. You cried to your heart's content. He'd leave you second-guessing yourself just to turn up drunk. It wasn't until the sun rose that you finally fell asleep.

Felix woke up with his head banging from all sides. He knew he shouldn't have drank that much last night. But that was the least of his concerns. You weren't lying beside him. Where'd you go? His mind changed when he saw the time though. It was nearly afternoon. 

He got up to get himself coffee when he saw the baking ingredients and utensils scattered everywhere. Fuck, he cursed himself. That's why you weren't there.

"Y/n?" Felix called out. If you were mad at him you'd sleep anywhere but your shared bedroom. So he figured that you'd be in the guestroom.

When he made it there, you were still out like a light. He gently laid down beside you and wrapped his arms around you. This motion woke you up and you almost leaned into his touch. But remembering why you slept here in the first place, made you scoot away. Felix didn't let you get away though. He only pulled you closer and held you tighter.

"Why weren't you by my side this morning? Why are you sleeping in the guestroom?"

Silence.

"I woke up in a cold bed."

Silence.

"Are you just going to ignore me?"

Silence.

Felix nuzzled his nose into your neck. This would usually make you laugh but in these circumstances, you were too disappointed to. Your boyfriend softly sighed.

"I'm sorry, Love. I know, I know I was supposed to have a date with you last night. But I was dumb and I forgot. I went out drinking instead. Then I left you at home, worried that I got into some kind of trouble. I'm sorry that I upset you. I'll make it up to you, I promise."

You turned around to face him. "I'm not upset. Just disappointed." You placed your face on his chest. Your boyfriend could feel the tears dampen his shirt.

"I know, Love. I'm sorry." Felix gently rocked you until you both eventually fell back asleep. 

When the two of you awoke, he definitely made it up to you. You finally had the date you'd been waiting for.

"You're not allowed to stand me up on a date again."

"Yes m'lady." He said as he bowed.

You softly chuckled. One step backwards and two steps forward. That's the positive version of the phrase and you'd like to keep it that way. ~~~ KIM SEUNGMIN According to your Bumble date, he wanted to meet at 11:00 a.m. sharp at the small cafe by the amusement park. So where was he when it's already 2:00 p.m.? You thought you were running late when you showed up at 12 instead of 11. But he's not even here yet. For context, he's Kim Seungmin, age 23, and a hotshot. Were you being impatient? No. You've been waiting for two hours.

But then you began to overthink. What if he already left because you arrived late and he probably thought you stood him up. No way... right? Time was ticking away and before you knew it, it was almost already 4. You decided to leave before one of the workers got fed up with you ordering coffee after coffee.

Well considering that you were already here, might as well go to the amusement park. 

As you turned down the road you felt a hand gently grasp your wrist. You turned around in shock. There Seungmin stood with a guilty smile. You were a bit confused. He just so happened to appear as soon as you were ready to leave.

"Umm... hey." He said nervously. "Oh, sorry!" Seungmin dropped your hand and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. "I was supposed to come sooner but I completely forgot. Actually, no! That makes me sound stupid. I was just really nervous."

You just stood there, not sure of what to say. "Okay..." You held out the last syllable.

"Shit. Fuck. Sorry. I'm leaving a really bad impression on you, aren't I." He awkwardly chuckled before continuing. "What I meant to say was, I was too shy to meet you. Umm... I worked really hard on my look. I even got a haircut. The outfit! I spent a lot of time choosing it. I wasn't sure what you liked. When I was done, I saw that I was running late but I still had to drive for an hour. When I got here, I was so sure that you left because what kind of asshole leaves their date alone for 3 hours. But when I saw you still waiting for me I got nervous again because you look stunning. Then I felt like I didn't look good enough and all the time and effort I put into my look couldn't compare to yours. So I was stuck in my car contemplating why I thought I could come. But then I saw you leaving and you were too good to lose. So I chased after you and here we are. I must be talking too much, especially about myself. And you must think I'm a klutz or something."

Seungmin slowly looked up at you. "Sorry, I've been rambling. Do I... seem like a klutz to you?"

And here you were thinking that it was you. You began to chuckle, nodding your head. His face dropped. 

"Oh God... am I really that bad?"

You shook your head. "No. In fact, you're everything I've been searching for. Who would ever think a good-looking guy like yourself would get this nervous meeting a girl for the first time?"

"Oh." He said stunned, making you laugh more.

"Well would you like to make it up to me instead of standing here looking so clueless?"

Seungmin immediately nodded his head. He was quite the guy considering his looks.

"Then take me to the amusement park up the road and I'll forgive you."

Safe to say, he was an amazing guy and an amazing date. The two of you were only able to enjoy for about three hours but it was enough for you to know, 

"I'll love him for the rest of my life." ~~~ YANG JEONGIN After putting on your finishing touches of makeup, you were ready to head out the door. You had already calculated. Taking the bus there would take about thirty minutes so you need to get going before 12:30 because Jeongin wanted to meet by 1 o'clock. 

When you arrived, you were only waiting for about five minutes when you got a text from him.

"Sorry"

"Can't come."

"I'll make it up to you later."

"Promise🤞🏻"

You sighed and texted back,

"Ok👌🏻"

 It wasn't like Jeongin to cancel on a date. But you already put all this effort into showing up, maybe you should just roam around a bit. Just as you were about to leave, you got another text.

"Okay, now I feel bad especially since we haven't been on a date in forever😞"

The text made you chuckle a bit.

"It's fine Innie😭"

"No it's not😡"

You couldn't stop laughing to yourself as you read the messages. Your boyfriend only continued to send more texts, feeling the need to explain himself.

"Now, I didn't want to cancel the date."

ping

"But I have a bit of a problem.🤏🏻"

ping

"Well maybe not a bit."

ping

"More like 7 problems.🙄"

ping

*attachment sent*

It was a photo of the boys following Jeongin around. Trying to get intel on this date of his. Of course they'd want to know who their maknae was dating. They were all wearing funny disguises and trying to hide themselves every time Jeongin took a photo. Bang Chan would try to hide behind a lamppost or a wall. Hyunjin pretending to read a newspaper. Changbin, for some reason, pretended to work out in the middle of the street. Minho pretended to walk one of his cats as if he wasn't holding Soonie in his arms the whole time. The rest of them dressed as ahjummas and turned to talk in a group like they aren't following Jeongin. Jeongin had a little pout on his face.

ping

"These dodo birds won't stop following me🤢🤬 and I don't want to get you involved.😞"

The people around you probably thought you were crazy. You were full on losing your shit as you viewed the photos.

"I think they just love you, Innie😘🥰😍"

ping

"Because I'm just that good🤧"

"Whatever you say🥱"

ping

"Do you not agree😢"

Then you left him on read.

ping

"HEY!😡"

ping

"I CAN LITERALLY SEE YOU READING THIS😤"

ping

"ANSWER ME!🤬"

Welp. You'll respond when he makes up for the date.

[lheslie]

How would taehun be if he had a sister, the complete opposite of him? Like he fights and does Taekwondo and she reads and studies? Like a delinquent and a nerd, except they're siblings? Also! I got Into your account canons, just mindlessly reading and they all make me giggle and kick my feet in the air Because of you, I'm starting to read the manhwa and he's becoming my favourite character

Taehoon having a sister that's a complete opposite of him.

Requested by: Anon.

Hope you like it!!!

(I have two male siblings, that would do this to me everyday.)

Whenever you sit at a couch, reading a book he would annoy you by suddenly kicking so close to your face, but it doesn't hit your face.

He sometimes uses you as additional weight while you read your book on top of him.

He disturbs your peace whenever he destroys anything that causes a loud crash.

"TAEHOON! STOP DESTROYING THINGS I'M STUDYING!" You yell as you close your bedroom door.

Sometimes he would try and ask you to spar with him whenever Hansu isn't around.

"If I die, I'm haunting you."

"The more reason to do Taekwondo." He reasons.

Between you and Taehoon, you were the more responsible one. So Hansu trusts you with pocket money whenever you go out and hangout with your brother.

"I want beer." He said

"No."

"I'm not asking, Give me money for beer." He said as he takes your wallet away from you and grabs some money for the beer.

He doesn't smoke around you, since you cough a lot whenever you inhale the smoke.

He is tolerable, but the thing you hate the most is the girls around him liking him.

You wonder what they saw on your shit face brother with bad attitude and a messy ugly ass mullet.

(You had glasses and a very messy hair)

Taehoon doesn't like seeing you fix your face, or you wearing anything other than baggy clothes, because it attract other men's attention.

So whenever you try and go out with a presentable look, he immediately stops you.

"Where ya going? Ya look fucking ugly in that." Said as you try to ignore and get past him.

"I'm going shopping for books." You said

"While looking like a clown yer not."

"Oh shut the fuck up, grow up."

He'd beat the shit out of people that try to even approach you.

Especially the ones that try to Harass you.

On Valentines Day, You'd have multiple girls asking you to give Chocolates to Taehoon, Ask for Taehoon's number, or They ask more about Taehoon.

Which pisses you off, "Look I am not entertaining your questions, Leave." You said as they replied.

"Meanie"

"No fun"

"The only thing that's good about you is your brother."

You didn't really care about those comments, you didn't give a shit.

You may be an opposite of Taehoon but you weren't weak, you were just more understanding, nice and patient.

But of course there were times you couldn't handle it anymore, so you randomly snap sometimes and get mad.

And this was one of those instances

You banged the girl's head to her desk.

"Say that again bitch." You angrily said as you rubbed her face to her desk, as she started crying for you to stop.

You were called at the principal's office.

Hansu and Taehoon arrived with Taehoon smiling.

"I heard what happened, Did ya win?" Taehoon spoke.

You chuckled. "Of course I did."

[nalyra-dreaming]

Not the same anon!

https://www.tumblr.com/nalyra-dreaming/764053264567238656/httpswwwtumblrcomnalyra-dreaming764035488039

Completely agreed with you, yikes. But do you mind elaborating on how things will get ugly and leave an unpleasant aftertaste when Amel shows up?

... Alright.

So let me preface this again, by pointing out that this is not something I want, but what I see written on the wall with what we got so far, and what Rolin and others have said. I called it putting "2+2" together, and it fits, because it's something that clicked into place after Sam mentioned certain things, and which seem very clear to me now. I would be very surprised if it didn't go like this, especially, since s2 more or less went like I expected, except details. But as with s1, they hit all the emotional beats and necessary story points, and I expect this to stay the same for the future seasons.

I'm putting this under the cut, because spoilers:

I'll recap a bit, so it makes sense within the structure as I see it.

The "fight" in 1x05 is split in three phases: inside, the driveway, in the sky

If we go by the trial revisit being the truth, then the driveway and the bite, as well as the sky have been tampered with, in memory - the dragging itself is done by a pristine Lestat, and even the biting one and the one in the sky do not have enough blood on them. They seem to have confirmed the drop having happened, and so I'm taking that as is.

Lestat goes on about "his nature", in a very weird voice in the driveway, while dragging Louis. (I talked about this before, for example here.) Apart from the truly harsh image this scene presents the whole acting choices and wording have always seemed weird to me. Knowing what an incredible actor Sam is drives home this was intentional. So let's keep that in mind. As mentioned before though the scene was "edited" - by Armand? Maybe. Maybe it is even a suppressed or edited-by-someone-else memory. In both cases it means it masks something else there. Maybe something worse.

In 1x06, in the car scene, Lestat says "I don't know what possessed me that night.". That is when the alarms in my head went off, and loudly. Because Amel's later awakening, literally possessing other vampires, is a violent and bloody one - and the possessed vampire does not always remember. Sam talked about this in Autumn's interview, that Lestat has this "thing inside him" that is hard to control (at ~40mins).

We all know what 1x05 did to the fandom, and the ever circling back discussions, because it was NOT "just" two vampires fighting, it was NOT "just" about canon abuse. The canon abuse was Lestat fighting once with Louis on equal grounds, and Louis being afraid he would "destroy the parlor in a rage"... meaning take his frustration out on the furniture. Louis and Claudia were not afraid of him (I talked about it in the car scene, Louis and Claudia are NOT afraid of him in the show either, but that's a different discussion.) But it was NOT Lestat beating his partner to a pulp, the white guy dragging his black partner as if on a meat hook, and then throwing him out of the sky. Making it seem as if Louis and Claudia were trapped. And so on.

Rolin has named "Prince Lestat" as one of the sources for the show, and Fareed being there is a clear evidence of that as well. He also said in an interview that "Lestat has hints of the prince in him" already.

So, with all this in mind, especially with what Sam has said:

The way I see it, they will (in broad strokes, never mind the details, obviously) keep Lestat fighting with his "nature", aka the spirit that is awakening and hungry for violence, which presents as toxic masculinity. That presentation will be why Akasha chooses him, but, as in the books, her quest will ultimately fail because the others will not be on her side... and Lestat does not help her (in the end), is not the one she took him for. Amel will wake/is already awakening. He will be the driving force behind Lestat's and even Akasha's violent outbursts, or desire for violence. I am not sure if they will make him "evil", they might.

To get to why I said this will be "ugly":

When book fans were crying foul re characterization in season 1 we were called racists, abuse apologists, and what not (and it has been taxing AF, to put it mildly), but actually it is a skewed characterization. Because Lestat canonically never did that to Louis or Claudia.

What the show does here, and which Sam confirmed and Rolin hinted at, is that Lestat's violence... is actually Amel. Amel taking over.

And that - is actual abuse apology.

In the very sense of he word.

Because they ramped up the abuse to a level that was inexcusable, so the "murder night" seemed inevitable too, thereby laying out a big, big stumbling rock for the show.

Lestat takes responsibility for the drop, haha, they're vampires, remember that, haha. The fight inside was not as shown and as left festering for years, haha, no, actually Louis went at Lestat, and Lestat let it happen, haha!!! Oh, the dragging and biting part outside is just Amel, taking over Lestat's body, he loves violence and blood, haha, oh and he loves looking at green eyes, isn't that cute???

//sarcasm off

Can you imagine this fandom, this fandom which cannot even really take the mental step back to realize that s1 and s2 have been an edited tale ... can you imagine this fandom being confronted by this (imho upcoming) show fact??

'That is what I meant will be very ugly.

They cannot even stomach this show being about monsters, or one of them still loving the other when one has actually dished out abuse. The discussions about the "white demon" have been going on ever since season 1, no matter the reveals in s2.

Now imagine that person, this in the show's setup white person(!) being absolved of (some of) their crimes against their black partner.

It's gonna be reaaaallllyyyyy ugly, fandom-wise.

And, to repeat, I don't like it either.

They should not have done that, imho. They should not have tied this level of abuse to an edited tale and Amel's awakening arc.

But they did.

And here we are.

[osarina]

Hellooo,

So, it's not really a request, just kinda? Idk, i just want to share this little idea with you and you can do with this anything you want!!

So reader and adazai are dating for a while rn and they are happy and all and dazai decides that he wants to propose reader. He has the ring and all planned out. But before he could, reader is sent to a mission and dazai be like: "okay, i'm gonna wait til she is back."

The only problem is that she isn't back in a good shape :') Something went wrong on the mission, there were stronger ppl than reader and the ada obviously didn't know abt it (let's just say that ranpo didn't know abt it too for the plot, okay? :')) and they all freak out and everything. Reader is sent to a hospital (yes, yosano's ability doesn't work on her. No i don't know why and how. It's just ✨plot amour✨)

But anyway, reader gets better and wakes up from her coma. But! She lost her memory. So when she finally wakes up and dazai is holding her hand while half asleep and the others are here too and when they notice that she is awake she just be like: "Huh??? Who are you all??"

And dazai of course heartbroken. The love of his live, his reason to live, his soon-to-be fincée doesn't remember him?? That's the end of the world. But ofc he doesn't show it that his world crumbled over, instead he tries to win over reader's heart again. And it's all fluffy through reader's recovery. Ooooo and i have this very very very cute scene in front of me.

Imagine: Dazai and reader are sitting on a rooftop, it's after some time when reader finally remembers her name, age, family, job etc (expect dazai, we love angst :p) so the basic things and there's a moment when she says that: "My mind may not remember you, but my heart could never forget."

And it's just shows that how domestic are they really that even if tragedies try to force them away from each other, their heart, their soul will always find the way back bc you only find true love once. And the right person (or people) will always came to you (i'm delulu.)

But let's not forget abt dazai and his self-blaming tendencies. My man here would be so crushed that he couldn't save his beloved. So maybe, at first, he wouldn't try to make remember their relationship. After all, if the only person he loved romentically forgets about him then that must be fate, no? A reminder that he doesn't qualified to be called human, so ofc he shouldn't enjoy such a human things as love. That he should cherish the time that you two spent together but should never reach out for you. After all, he might get his dirt on your freshly started new life. And he also wasn't sure that you would even want him with all his mistakes, inperfections and that ugly, broken soul of him.

So i think reader has to make some moves first too. Just from instinct. Bc loving him is like a second nature to her. But aftet reader defeats dazai's self-sabotaging attempts, the cutesy recovery would start <33

OH MY GOD I LOVE HIM SO MUCH. Someone should check this out bc my love for him is starting to get a little unhealthy 💀

Anywayyyy i wish you the loveliest, most beautiful day ever bc you deserve it. And again, feel free to ignore this rant, no pressure <333 i'm just so down bad for him, ughhh. I want to squeeze him so bad <33

Also, if it's not a big problem, can i be 🍄 anon? If it's taken then 🎶 anon?

Much, much love!!!

(Pls ignore the spelling and grammar mistakes, i'm running on 4 hours of sleep each day this week and english is my 2nd language)

AHHHHHHHH NONNIE UR SO IN MY BRAIN I'VE BEEN DYING TO WRITE AN AMNESIA FIC FOR DAZAI. the way i was going about it, i was thinking maybe we could do an ability user that targets reader and their ability causes reader to completely lose memory of the most important person in their life ... except this was going to be set pre-relationship but they were both sooooo clearly in love with each other but neither wanted to make the first move. so reader would come into work like usual and nothing seems wrong until she sees dazai and she's like ??? who are you and dazai is just CRUSHED and the whole fic is set around him trying to hunt down this ability user to make reader's memories come back but it's like they've vanished off the face of earth. eventually he comes back to the office when he gives up because he literally CAN'T find this ability user and then we follow reader re-falling in love w dazai and dazai self sabotaging because he's dazai

I WISH YOU THE MOST LOVELY BEAUTIFUL DAY EVER NONNIE I ADORE YOU

[curio-queries]

I just read your I Am Still review and it makes me curious what namjoon's movie (not sure if its meant to be a docu?) will look like.

I know BH could do better in a lot of ways, but I do think a lot of the stuff tied to bts' solo promotions is really a reflection of where they are at artistically as individuals. Like I'm sure BH lays out a profit plan (i.e. we want an album, a video release, merch, etc.), but other than that, I do think a lot of it is up to them what direction they take. Like if they have something specific in mind or want to go waaaay more artistic, namjoon's solo seems to show that BH will put in the money and allow them to do that. On the other hand, I do think, if they don't have a direction in mind, BH just gives them the memories, in-house BH editor treatment (which could be better and they could at least get an actual docu director if they plan for a theatrical release, I know people felt this way even for Beyond the Star).

I actually love a lot of the songs on Golden (I'm a pop-whore through and through), but I do think jungkook hasn't quite found himself yet, or his unique artistic vision. And I think that flows into the content related to the album. I don't know if its controversial to say as a fan, but I think even calling the album "Golden" and then comments I've seen about the docu, it feels more like him trying to live up to his "Golden Maknae" status of mega pop stardom than necessarily finding himself in this album. And to be clear, those things don't have to be mutually exclusive! But I do think jungkook doesn't necessarily dig deep or get vulnerable in this album, so it doesn't surprise me that the docu might also feel that way. I also feel like this is why JPD might feel a little more cohesive, because I do think jimin is farther along in his artistic journey (being vulnerable, knowing what he wants to say as an artist even if its not fully polished yet, etc.). And this no shade to jungkook, I think all of the vocal line haven't had the opportunity to grow outside the group like the rap line has, especially the younger members whose entire artistic career/view has been shaped within a group setting. Finding yourself takes time, and trial and error. Sometimes I feel like jimin doesn't get enough credit for the fact that his first entirely solo project was so personal and he was so involved in the entire creative conception of it, especially for someone as reserved as him.

I am excited to see what Jin will end up coming out with (I love the The Astronaut song) and it'll be interesting to see the direction each member takes post military service. Even styling-wise, I'm curious what each member will do. I've hated jimin's styling for all of his solo projects (except the sparkly denim LC outfit) and most of jungkook's outside of SNTY. Please let the weird, ugly mullet, lego hair-piece looking stuff die and also extremely baggy clothes. I need fashion to have evolved by the time they get discharged because jimin should not need to be pulling up his pant's leg while he dances.

Hi anon,

Thank you for sending this in. I apologize that it's been ages, I got quite sick for a bit there and didn't have the energy to deal with tumblr. (Sidenote, the feed is kind of a disaster right now. I hope people can return to celebrating content again soon, I'm ready to stop unfollowing people every time I log in.)

Anyway, I'm so glad you brought up Namjoon's film because I'm so INTRIGUED. What are the criteria for this film festival? Is there any hope that it's been handled properly? What do we know about the director? Is this just another Hybe edit and they've strong-armed is into the festival? Is there going to be any way for us to watch it?

I don't really have any answers to these questions yet but it's kind of my only hope left of a decent film that's not just bangtantv content.

I actually really loved the idea of Golden being the album title and many of the choices surrounding it's release. Such great imagery and art surrounding his tattoos and just completely celebrating everything that led to JK as a person. But...it has very little connection to the actual music. Again, other than this idea that JK was actively pursuing himself as an extremely technically-exceptional singer, what does Golden have to do with the music? Other than one (possible coincidental) reference in STNY, this album could have been called anything. It's not the worst offense of an album but the rest of BTS's work has raised my expectations in having all sides of a release being exceptional. And this just wasn't for me. Not bad. But not astounding.

Also, can I say I'm so relieved to hear someone else voicing my same opinions on the styling for JM that last year. I absolutely despised the mullets and the baggy puts that he had to lift during choreo. Seriously anon, how did you get inside my brain?? I didn't mention this anywhere because everyone was gushing about it but it just pulled me out of it. Every.Single.Time. Can we be besties? Lol

Anyway, I'm sure I missed something in your ask. Still not feeling 100% but I don't want to delay this response any longer. Thank you so much for your patience!

[evita-shelby]

could i request some drabbles:

Eva wanting to adopt a dog but it’s horrifically ugly (chewed up looking Chihuahua) and Tommy is like “hell no.” but Eva uses her daughters to wreck havoc on Tommy’s life and emotions until he inevitably caves. and despite his obvious disdain the dog ends up liking him best and tries to follow him everywhere much to his embarrassment when he tries to conduct Peaky business.

Thanks anon, gonna call you anon🐾 now

Xoco

Gif by @peakykoko

(No more taglists for these, we die like Grace)

“It looks like the one you had when you were little, mama!”

Those damn words started it all.

The salt and pepper chihuahua Eva arrived in Small Heath with had been old and sickly, but well cared for but the witch who had had Xoco since she was eleven years old.

It had a diamond necklace, for fuck’s sake.

Now this dog, also named Xoco, had been foisted upon him when the girls and their mother went shopping while he was meeting with the ministry of trade during their holiday in Mexico.

He had said no, Eva’s younger cousin Maddy, had given her two xolo dogs named Aristotle and Pesechat thus bringing them to four fucking dogs.

This did not include Charlie’s cats, their horses and the other animals that they had taken in at Arrow House.

“No, means no, sweetheart.” Tommy had been adamant, stood his ground and soon the matter was forgotten.

Except it wasn’t.

Flora cried the entire drive back to Chapultepec Castle, Diane glared at him until he sent them to their room, and even worse, Eva claimed to have a headache that night.

The first two he could weather; Charlie had gone through a phase where his tantrums had him questioning whether he could break his rule about no corporal punishment.

Thomas Michael Shelby enjoyed sex far too much to have his wife deny him.

Those months they were separated had been torture, but not enough to consider cheating on her because then she would kill him --- and he would have let her. And now having her deliberately do this while he is having to actually work this entire week is just cruel.

“Fine, the girls can have the rat they found on the street.” He said the next evening after Eva upped the ante by not wearing a damn thing to bed.

This had been preceded by Florence stealing all his glasses and Diane cutting holes in his pockets and both girls joining together to ruin the meeting he had before noon.

They returned home with the ugliest and most annoying dog he has ever had.

And yet, unlike the rest of the dogs –especially Cyril, that fucking traitor--- Xoco ,with it half-bitten little ears, incessant barking and need to leave to do her business outdoors through only the front door, had stuck to him like glue.

“That is the ugliest thing I have seen. Is that a diamond collar?” Ada said when she sees the little dog following him into the office and laying down protectively in front of his desk.

As if little Xoco could be of any protection.

“Yes, the girls picked her up in Mexico. She likes me for some fucking reason.” He said knowing his sister is trying not to tease him about it as he rubs his eyes.

This is made much worse when Xoco barks and snarls at his sister as if she were to attack him.

And when Ada doesn’t back off, the lapdog proceeds to attack.

It is a funny sight, seeing his sister shriek and retreat because a dog the size of rat is threatening to bite her, going as far as jumping at her hoping to get more than just her ankles.

“Call her off, Tom. This isn’t funny.” His sister said going as far as jumping into the chair to avoid being bitten by the little beast.

And he does, only after having a good laugh he hasn’t had since before France.

[ichinoue]

How the Japanese fans themselves interpret 'those Lust arc scenes ™ '

The debate around whether or not Ichigo is referring to Orihime both before and during his Perfect Hollowfication in The Lust has reared its ugly head…yet again. 

This is so bizarre to observe as someone who’s been part of the Japanese speaking Bleach fandom for several years during its run. I have never seen any Japanese fan dispute the fact that the subject was solely Orihime. Nor have I ever seen this particular scene being mentioned in any context other than “Ichigo reacting to Orihime’s voice/cries for help.” 

To put it simply, the context is so obvious that this isn’t even a debate in Japan lol. I know it’s been said a hundred times already, but to reiterate pronouns are very often ignored in Japanese (I omit pronouns like 80% of the time) especially when you’re talking about another person because doing so may even be considered rude as well as sounding totally unnatural. In fact, if Ichigo had used “彼女” (she/her) it would sound like he’s referring to his girlfriend. 

Ichigo doesn’t need to use a pronoun to indicate who he’s talking to because it’s obvious from the context, obvious to everyone except overseas Ichiruki fans it seems. So, I’ve taken the liberty to show everyone how Japanese fans themselves interpret this scene with sources unlike the

“just trust me bro”

essay that spawned this hilarious mess in the first place. Below are some of the Japanese fan reactions to Ichigo’s Hollow transformation during The Lust chapters (or references to it) in relation to Orihime’s presence. 

Blog post from 2009:

Source: 

https://ameblo.jp/rain-chaime/entry-10358790684.html

Ichigo’s heart tries to answer Orihime’s voice …then, there is a change in Ichigo…

“Help… her… I will… help her.” In response to these words, Orihime feels responsible for seeking his help.  Orihime…it can’t be helped, because Ichigo is Orihime’s personal hero lol.

Blog post from 2010:

Source: 

http://wondertime.blog31.fc2.com/blog-entry-1386.html

She can’t do anything, moreover she has no idea what to do, the only thing she can do is to call out Ichigo’s name… “Help me…! Kurosaki-kun!!” Something strange happens to Ichigo who responded to the voice of Orihime …!!! *sweats*

Anon jokes about Orihime’s voice bringing Ichigo back to life in a discussion thread:

Source: 

https://bbs.animanch.com/board/1318379/

Even if Ichigo dies, he’ll probably just power up with Inoue’s voice and come back to life.

Blog post from 2010:

Source: 

https://plaza.rakuten.co.jp/kazusaroom/diary/201005190001/?scid=wi_blg_amp_diary_next

At the very least, the frustration I felt towards Orihime at the time I was reading the magazine has now turned into understanding. “help me! kurosaki-kun!” Ichigo suddenly shows a reaction to Orihime’s voice “She’s calling … she’s calling me.” “Stand up! Stand up!” Ichigo says. “I will protect her!”

Blog post from 2010:

Source: 

http://strawcat.blog12.fc2.com/blog-entry-2441.html

Orihime, who is helpless to do anything but watch as her friends fall, can only cry out Ichigo’s name… Something extraordinary occurs in the body of Ichigo who had returned [to life] in response to that voice, the Ichigo before her eyes is perfectly Hollowfied!!

Blog post from 2010:

Source: 

http://kadukikagayaki.blog129.fc2.com/blog-entry-83.html

Orihime’s desperate sorrow … it finally comes through in her voice as she wants Ichigo to help her… Something strange is happening to Ichigo’s body… this is finally happening isn’t it? Ichigo who was losing consciousness still manages to respond to Orihime’s cries and then he wakes up, I mean, his form goes berserk…

Article about Ichigo’s Hollow transformations:

Source: 

https://11kamone.com/ichigo-horou-18894#i-11

At that time, Ichigo who was revived in response to Orihime’s cries, transformed into a figure that closely resembled the above-mentioned Hollow, White, and then defeated Ulquiorra. 

Article about Ichigo’s Perfect Hollowfication:

Source: 

https://performance-navi01.com/ichigo-perfecthollow/33919/#41350

In order to protect Orihime during the fight against Ulquiorra, which I mentioned earlier, Ichigo becomes perfectly Hollowfied. 

Analysis of Volume 41:

Source: 

https://note.com/zawa_no9cs/n/n24cc091c50cc

Fallen before Ulquiorra who displayed overwhelming power with “Resurreccion - Segunda Etapa,” Ichigo responded to Orihime’s voice which uttered “help me” before becoming perfectly Hollowfied and the battle between the two draws closer towards the end.

Volume 41 impressions:

Source: 

https://ameblo.jp/mangasho5/entry-12424584769.html

But…. Orihime’s cry. Orihime’s tears  It rouses something in Ichigo whose consciousness had already started to fade.

Ichigo was resurrected from the brink of death by the the words of Orihime as she uttered “help me, Kurosaki-kun!”

Volume 41 reviews:

Source: 

https://bookmeter.com/books/565371#js-book-reviews

After being awakened by Orihime’s voice, Ichigo undergoes Hollowfication of his whole body?

Ichigo is ominously awakened by Orihime’s voice.

When Orihime’s cries reach Ichigo, who should have died, Ichigo is revived via a Hollowfication that is different from his previous form.

Ichigo was roused by Orihime’s words before taking on his next form. 

After Orihime’s cry made Ichigo rise up, he becomes a Hollow!?

Every. Single. Discussion… around these chapters in Japan say the same thing,

the remnants of Ichigo’s humanity is reacting to Orihime and Orihime alone.

I could carry on with more and more examples until I break this post with the amount of links I can find. Find me one, just one Japanese article, discussion thread or blog post that indicates the opposite… oh wait, you can’t because they don’t exist.  Just to be clear we have:

All official translations and reliable fan translations (like Cnet)… actually, even the old fan translations which came out before the official ones…all of them include the she/her pronoun because it’s obvious and correct.

The databook refers to Orihime specifically.

Masakazu Morita’s interview

The Japanese fans themselves…

But apparently overseas Ichiruki fans understand the Japanese language better than Japanese people. The audacity lmao. And to think, the one and only source of information for the other side is some rando chick - with a reputation for misinformation and toxic online behaviour - who made a “just trust me bro” essay over a decade ago. Thanks for reading, Rei