#fucking. draw your system challenge

[kkoct-ik]

fake sticker sheet of my mipys because i love them so very very much

transparnets. if you are so inclined

[secretsofafangirll]

video star

summary: the time when Olivia appeared in a blind, deaf, mute baking video with the triplets and Matt couldn't keep his hands to himself.

warnings: touchiness in front of people/on camera, suggestive language, suggestive content, use of pet names.

a/n: the song doesn't have any significance, it just plays in o.c.'s headphones.

"Hey guys, welcome back to another Wednesday video," Nick blurted at the camera posed several feet in front of them, "Today we're doing another Deaf, Blind, Mute Baking Challenge."

"However," Chris butted in, sticking a mocking finger in the air, "We have a special guest for today's video," He drawled out and looked off to the side where I was standing. Matt was still leaning back against the counter and smiled at me.

"Come on out, sweetheart." Matt beckoned me over with a flick of his fingers and a nod of his head. I jumped into frame and smiled at the camera.

"Hi guys!" I waved enthusiastically and placed my hands on the counter in front of me.

"For those of you who don't know, Olivia is our best friend in the whole world and Matt's girlfriend. If you didn't know that, you've obviously never watched a video because she's in all of our vlogs and we never shut up about her." Nick summed up the basics for the viewers at home.

I've been friends with the triplets since my freshman year of high school. Chris and I instantly clicked one day in Math when our more extroverted personalities found their ways to one another. He introduced me to his two triplet brothers at lunch that same day, and the rest was history. We became inseparable and spent every second of every day together since. Things became interesting with Matt and me as we got older and grew into ourselves but we officially started dating after we graduated high school. We were always scared to announce our relationship to his fans because they can be volatile to their female friends, but once we did and they accepted that we loved each other, we've been so open and comfortable expressing that love physically on camera.

"So, how this is gonna work is..we're gonna draw out of a hat and three people are gonna be either blind, deaf, or mute and one person won't be able to use their hands. Let's hope that person isn't Olivia, because she's the only one of us that really can bake, like at all," Chris addressed the room and the camera.

"Dude, if I get fucking handcuffed, this is gonna be awful," I raised my brows and turned to Chris.

"Have a little faith, kid," Chris bumped my hip with his. I heard the car keys rattle on Matt's belt loop as he pressed himself away from the counter and came up behind me to wrap his arms around my neck. My hands subconsciously reached up to grip his muscular forearms.

"Alright, well, let's get the fuck on with it," Matt spoke.

"Okay, relax. We've been rolling for two fucking minutes." Nick stuck an accusatory hand up at Matt.

Nick reached around the counter for the hat and we all drew a card.

"Matt, you say yours first," Nick assigned.

"Mute," Matt chuckled, "Too easy."

"Deaf," I read aloud, "Yay! I just get to listen to music." I ran over to the couch and grabbed my headphones, working to connect them to my phone and find a playlist.

"Noo!," Chris whined, "Handcuffed."

"Loser", Nick teased.

"Which means that I am blind." Nick concluded, "Olivia wanted to bake something from scratch but that's a bit too hard for us, so we just got boxed brownies with, like, an extra cookie thing that we have to do too."

As Nick started to read off the contents of the box, I placed the headphones over my ears and pressed "shuffle" on Spotify. The first song to grace my ears was "B.Y.O.B" by System of a Down. A loud, scream-y nu-metal jam to deafen my sensitive ears. If I listened to anything too quiet, I'd be able to hear them. I watched as Matt tied the blindfold onto Nick and then Chris tied the bandana onto Matt. Matt then locked the handcuffs onto Chris' wrists behind his back.

I watched as the three of them tried to talk to each other, myself trying to read their lips and body language. I knew Matt well enough to know he was frustrated and Chris well enough to know he was giving Nick directions.

Quickly, when they started to struggle too much, they called me over. However, my eyes were closed as I mouthed the words to the song and I couldn't hear them.

"Everybody's going to the party have a real good time," I sang with Serj and wagged my finger to the Ooh.

What made me open my eyes was Matt pushing a hand against my lower back to guide me to the counter. The sudden jolt and touch startled me and I lurched forward, almost falling into the hard counter top face first. Matt's hand quickly shot and gripped my waist, pulling me back into him.

"Oh my God!" I yelped, my hands shooting out in front of myself to stop me before he did. He spun me around in his hands and I placed my extended hands on his chest, "Thank you!" I yelled, unaware of my volume. He just pressed a finger to my lips to tell me to be quieter. I whispered a faint apology in return.

I looked over to Chris who was probably spewing some bullshit at us about how cheesy we are, seeing as how his left cheek flexed up slightly in annoyance. Matt ushered me over to the counter where they handed me the box to try and fix what they already messed up. I took one look at the batter and knew they added too much oil.

"Okay," I started, "I think you guys just put too much oil, but it's not hard to fix. I just need a dehydrator like flour or cornstarch to dry out the oil." I turned around to grab the flour from the cabinets that I stock for them, because if I didn't they'd either starve or waste all of their money on eating out.

Due to my shorter stature, I had to stand on my tip toes and stretch the life out of my arms to reach the flour. Matt came up behind me and placed a hand on my side to tell me to relax and he reached up and grabbed it for me. I thanked him before turning around and continuing to mix the brownies, Matt's front just brushed my back the whole time as he watched over my shoulder, his hand resting gently on my hip.

Once I was done with the brownies, I needed to grab a bowl for the cookie part. I wasn't planning on making it, since it's supposed to be a challenge, but I still grabbed the equipment needed. I bent down in front of Matt to grab a smaller bowl from the cabinet below the island. When I leaned over, I didn't realize two things; one, how close I was to Matt and what he wouldn't be able to resist doing when he noticed the position we were in, two, how it would look on camera.

Both of Matt's hands found my hips when I unexpectedly stuck my ass into the air right in front of his dick and he subconsciously pressed himself a tiny bit further into me. Soon, his hand left my hip and it braced itself on the counter above my head so that I wouldn't hit the counter when I got back up.

"Okay, so you guys need to do this, because this is supposed to be your guys' challenge." I started clearly over the sound of Evanescence’s "Going Under”. I sang the words under my breath as I turned away to let them do what they needed to do. I hopped up onto the counter behind them and enjoyed my music as I watched them yell at each other.

At least I thought they were yelling at each other...

Turns out they were yelling at me to preheat the oven that I was sitting next to. I watched as Matt stepped closer to me. He placed his hands on my thighs and nodded to the oven dials. I quickly understood and turned the dial to 350 degrees. Matt's eyes darted all across my face and down my body that was only clothed in shorts and a tank top due to the intense Los Angeles heat. I knew exactly what look he was giving me and it was killing him that he couldn't kiss me.

"Later," I mouthed to him and leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He dropped his head to my shoulder and I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulder to squeeze him into me.

Soon after, the brownies had made it out of the oven safely and we were all stripped of our sense-depriving shackles. I was kind of disappointed to be done with the music, but I missed hearing my favorite boys talk.

"Okay, the brownies are done and they look fine," Nick began to the camera, "But we did fuck them up a little bit, so hopefully Olivia's fix was okay."

"Bro, she's literally a professional chef at this point, I'm sure they're still gonna be great," Chris said matter-of-factly. Nick began to cut the brownies, which they should've baked on parchment paper, and got a piece for all of us. He slid it in front of me and we all tried a bite. They still tasted great and they looked like boxes.

"Obviously, if it were up to me, we wouldn't have boxed anything, but for a boxed brownie mix," Matt came up and hugged me from behind and my hands fell to his that wrapped around me, "I would give this is a solid 8 out of 10." I said giving a thumbs up with the camera.

When they had all given their notes and feedback, they said goodbye to the camera and turned it off.

"You guys need to practice a little something called self-control, you horny fucks," Said Nick as he shook his head and took down the filming equipment. 

"Shut the fuck up, Nick," Matt spat as he pulled me closer, "Hi, my girl. D'you have fun?" He asked, pressing a kiss to the top of my head.

I pulled back slightly and leaned up to kiss his lips, "Mhm. I always have fun filming with you guys." I smiled up at his stunning face.

"What'd you listen to?" He asked, pulling away from the hug to reach over and grab a cup from the cabinet, but keeping a hand on my waist. I turned to watch him as he got what he needed.

"I listened to System of a Down and Evanescence. I wish that, like, Nirvana or something came on though." I sighed and looked down for a moment before focusing my attention back on him.

"S'nice. I need to branch out, broaden my musical horizons," He said as he filled his cup with water from the fridge.

"And your kitchen horizons, because, my God, you guys suck at baking." I teased exasperatedely.

"Hey, watch yourself," He tutted, "They suck at baking, I, on the other hand, can whip up a good dessert."

"Alright, mister, I bought already-been-smoked salmon and tried to cook it anyway, Sturniolo." I accused, rolling my eyes jokingly.

"Oh, yeah? You want to play it that way?" He smiled smugly and slowly stepped toward me, setting his water down on the kitchen island.

I backed away in response and put my hands up in defense, "I'm not playing anything. M'just sayin' it how it is. S'not my fault your egos too big."

"You little-," He cut himself off and reached for me. A high-pitched yelp escaped my mouth as I dodged his hand and I backed away from him before running to his bedroom. I might be more agile than him, but his legs are much longer than mine. He caught up to me as I was trying to slam his door shut, and he stopped the door before I could close it. He swooped in quickly, picked me up, and tossed me onto the bed, kicking the door shut somewhere in between.

"Matt!" I giggled, as I sat up, bracing my hands behind me. He crawled onto the bed in front of me and shoved my chest back down.

"Those brownies might have been good," He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss right below my ear, "But I know you're gonna taste even better," He whispered into my ear and began to trail a path of open-mouthed kisses down my neck...

//

author's note: alright...how'd we like it? I'm not entirely sure how I feel about it, but I wanted to put something out. I liked the concept but I'm unsure of how it turned out. let me know what you guys think.

all the love, she <3

[tinyluvs]

Rafe and reader arguing and she flashes him to end the argument and win it

i’ve won many an argument doing this so 🌝 *mdni!*

the door of the cameron house slams and you flinch, your eyes widening as you turn to the sound of the footsteps rapidly approaching. rafe barrels into the kitchen looking, for lack of a better word, mad

“oh boy” you mutter to yourself before slapping a sickly sweet smile on your face, “hi baby, how’re you?”

rafe raises an eyebrow at you. the breakfast bar counter separates the two of you, “don’t baby me right now” he snaps, crossing his arms over his chest

you know exactly what you did but just in case he’s mad over something else, you don’t admit to anything. “why?” you ask with a slight pout and a tilt of your head

your boyfriend rubs a hand over his face and sighs deeply, “so i was at the country club,” he starts and you hum, “heard some talk about things you’d said”

he knows. you mentally curse, rapidly trying to come up with something to get you out of trouble but nothing springs into action fast enough for you

“do you have any idea what trouble you’ll start if you start saying that shit?” rafe hisses at you, his hands planting onto the counter as he leans towards you

stupidly, you’d got a little drunk and gone on a rather long, rambling, tangent about how fucked the island system is. the way the pogue’s have no electricity or running water sometimes and the kook’s never have any issues

you frown, “but it’s true! kie was telling me ho-”

“i don’t care what kie said! i’m talking about you and what you said” rafe cuts you off, raising his voice over yours, “it’s the fucking country club, full of kooks” he points out

a sigh tumbles past your lips and your hand swipes through your hair, “so i can talk about it, just not at the country club?” you shoot back with an attitude

rafe stares at you, “just don’t talk about it at all for a while, okay?” he huffs, standing back up straight. even with the counter between you, he has to look down at you, his eyes burning into yours

“okay, god, i’m sorry” you roll your eyes but you realise that was a mistake when he growls, deep in his chest

he turns away from you, pacing up and down in the kitchen, “but you’re not sorry because you do this all the fucking time” he starts to ramble, “you’re my girlfriend, you live here with me an-”

you drown him out. watching him stop in front of the glass doors that lead out onto the patio. he rubs at his jaw as he continues to talk

“it’s not that deep, rafe” you mumble and drum your fingers off of the counter, “i won’t talk about it”

rafe doesn’t even acknowledge you talking, his rant continuing, his words louder than yours, “it makes my family look bad, my girlfriend going around talking about how we live and how it’s unfair to pogues, god!”

sighing deeply, you start to slide your fingers under the hem of your crop top, inching it up until you’re exposing your tits. your nipples perk up and you cross your arms underneath your boobs

still rafe doesn’t notice, “so stupid, this is how the island works, the kooks and the fucking pogues and it only works that way becau-”

“because what?”

he turns, finally. his words dying on his tongue as his eyes immediately draw to your chest. he licks over his bottom lip, watching your hand ghost over the swell of your tit and up to your neck

“because what, rafe?” you repeat yourself, challenging him even though you know you’ve won. his eyes darken and he moves around the breakfast bar, still leaving enough space between you

puffing his cheeks out, he admits defeat, “doesn’t matter” he grumbles. lust outweighs his annoyance for your argument ending tactics

you smirk, “didn’t think so,” you hum smugly. he closes the distance between you, hand sliding up your side until his thumb is brushing against your nipple

he bends and uses his free hand to pull your leg up, forcing you to jump, legs wrapping around his waist, “don’t do it again,” he mumbles against your neck, shifting you higher up his body so he can trail his lips down to your tit

“hmm, it’s quite fun winning the argument though” you snicker and push your tongue between your lips, titling your head back slightly.

his hand slaps against the your asscheek, his teeth grazing harshly against your nipple, causing you to cry out, something between a moan and a shout.

“don’t push it” he warns but you will, because the after argument sex always leaves you bruised and marked and so, so full and you’re too addicted to it

thanks for reading! remember to like! reblog! and comment! i’ll give you a kiss if you do, mwah ily !! send prompts to my ask box!

[heejake-hoon]

Enhypen hyung line walking to you getting off

Tags: smut, soft dom hyung line, a lot of praising, i think the title is self explanatory

Heeseung:

The sound of the front door opening and closing barely registers in your pleasure-fogged mind as you lose yourself in the sensations your fingers are creating. Soft gasps and breathy moans fill the bedroom, your hips rolling to meet your touch as you chase your rapidly approaching climax.

Just as you're about to crest that peak, a low groan from the doorway makes your eyes fly open. There stands Heeseung, dark gaze fixed on your nude form, pupils blown wide with lust. He looks like he wants to devour you whole.

"Someone is so eager ha?" he rasps, voice rough with arousal. Heeseung leans against the doorframe, drinking in the erotic sight of you spread out before him, touching yourself so wantonly.

You flush under the intensity of his stare but don't stop the motion of your hand, emboldened by the raw hunger etched into every line of his face.

"Why don't you come over here and join me then?" you challenge breathlessly, arching into your touch with a sultry moan.

"Oh, I will..." Heeseung promises darkly, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, revealing tantalizing glimpses of smooth skin and toned muscle. "But first I want to watch you make yourself come. Want to see that pretty pussy fluttering around your fingers, hear all those desperate little noises you make when you're close..."

He shrugs off his shirt, letting it drop to the floor before palming himself through his jeans. You whimper at the erotic visual, his dirty words and heated gaze stoking the fire in your veins.

"Heeseung, please..." you keen, walls beginning to clench around your digits frantically as your orgasm builds.

"Fuck, you beg so sweetly," he praises, thumbing open the button of his jeans and drawing down the zipper tantalizingly slow. "Love it when you get needy for me... Come on baby, wanna see you let go..."

His voice is pure sin, deep and dripping with lust, and it sends you flying over the edge. You cry out sharply as ecstasy floods your system, back bowing off the bed as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you.

Through the haze of your climax, you're vaguely aware of rustling fabric and then the mattress is dipping under Heeseung's weight. He crawls over you, capturing your mouth in a searing kiss, licking filthily into you as his naked body covers your own.

"So fucking perfect," Heeseung growls against your lips, hips rolling to grind his hard, aching length against your sensitive core. "Love watching you fall apart... Could never get tired of seeing you like that."

He nips at your bottom lip before trailing biting kisses along the column of your throat, definitely leaving marks behind. You mewl, hands scrabbling at his back as he sets your nerve endings alight.

"Need to be inside you, baby," Heeseung pants, sucking a bruise into the swell of your breast. "Gonna fuck you so deep, make you scream my name... Wanna feel this pretty pussy coming on my cock again and again..."

"Yes, Heeseung please," you babble mindlessly, achingly empty and desperate to be filled. "Want you, want your cock so bad-"

With a possessive snarl, Heeseung pushes inside you to the hilt and you keen at the sudden stretch, legs falling open to accommodate the intrusion. He sets a ruthless pace, snapping his hips in sharp, deep thrusts that punch the breath from your lungs.

"Fuck, you take me so well," Heeseung groans, voice absolutely wrecked as he fucks into you mercilessly. "Love your tight little cunt, baby, fucking made for my cock..."

Lost to sensation, all you can do is hang on for dear life, nails raking down the flexing muscles of his back as he pounds into you. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin echoes throughout the room and you feel yourself rapidly approaching a second peak.

"Heeseung, 'm close," you whimper, legs beginning to tremble where they're wrapped around his pistoning hips. "Gonna come, gonna come on your cock-"

"Do it baby, fucking come for me," Heeseung commands, reaching between your bodies to circle your sensitive bud as he redoubles his efforts. "Wanna feel this pussy squeezing my dick, shit- I'm close too, gonna fill you up so fucking good-"

A particularly hard thrust paired with a deft flick of his fingers sends you hurtling over the edge with a broken scream of his name, eyes rolling back as your walls clamp down on him like a vice.

With a guttural groan, Heeseung follows you over, spilling deep inside you as his hips stutter erratically. He works you both through the aftershocks, stroking your trembling walls, wringing every last bit of pleasure from your willing body.

Jay:

 "Starting without me? Naughty girl..." Jay's amused voice cuts through your lustful haze, making your eyes snap open to find him leaning against the bathroom doorway, towel slung low around his hips.

He's clearly fresh out of the shower, raven hair damp and clinging to his forehead, rivulets of water traveling over the defined muscles of his chest and abs. The sight makes your mouth go dry.

Jay doesn't miss the way your gaze rakes over him hungrily and he smirks, slowly unwrapping the towel to reveal his hardening length. "See something you like, baby?"

Not breaking eye contact, he takes himself in hand, pumping lazily as he takes in your nude form laid out before him. "Fuck, you're so sexy... love watching you touch yourself. Gets me so hard..."

The visual of Jay stroking himself combined with his deep, rumbling dirty talk quickly sends you hurtling towards your peak.

"Jay... 'm close..." you whimper needily, walls beginning to flutter around your fingers as you chase your high.

"Don't come yet," he commands firmly, quickening his own pace. "Wanna watch you fall apart on my cock. Fuck, can't wait to feel you coming on my dick, baby- ahh fuck, I'm close too..."

With a groan, Jay strides forward, quickly replacing your fingers with his aching length in one smooth thrust. You cry out sharply as he fills you, already teetering on the knife's edge of climax.

"That's it baby, take it, fucking take it," he snarls through gritted teeth, hips pistoning furiously. "Gonna fill this pussy up so good, shit- come with me, baby, come on my cock-!"

Jake:

 "Oh fuck, baby..." Jake's choked moan makes you gasp, eyes flying open to find him staring at you with pure, unadulterated lust burning in his darkened honey gaze.

He's kneeling at the foot of the bed, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists at his sides, looking like he's barely restraining himself from pouncing.

"Don't stop," Jake grits out, voice strained. "Wanna see my pretty girl make herself feel good. Can I- fuck, please let me taste you..."

At your shaky nod, he dives between your thighs with a growl, throwing your legs over his broad shoulders. The first swipe of his tongue has you keening, back arching clean off the bed as he licks into your dripping center.

"Oh fuck, Jake, your mouth-!" you sob, fingers tangling in his golden curls as he devours you like a starving man.

Jake eats you out like he's dying for it, tongue fucking into you as he sucks your sensitive bud between his lips. Your thighs tremble around his ears as he takes you apart with quick, devastating flicks of his tongue, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"Jake, 'm gonna- fuck I'm gonna come-" you babble mindlessly, dissolving under his skilled ministrations.

He pulls back just enough to rasp, "Do it baby, come on my tongue, wanna taste you coming in my mouth, please-" before sealing his lips around your clit and sucking hard.

You shatter with a scream, seeing stars as your orgasm crashes through you. Jake works you through it, lapping at you until you've stopped shaking, brushing soothing kisses along your inner thighs as you catch your breath.

"Fucking perfect, baby... So good for me," he praises hoarsely, crawling up your body to capture your lips in a deep kiss, making you taste yourself on him. "Love making you feel good. Wanna do it again... and again... and again..." and that was exactly what he did, eating you out until you left his face all glistening with your wetness, struggling to pull out from his grasp as he didn’t stop.

Sunghoon:

You're sprawled out on the bed, one hand between your thighs, lost in pleasure as soft moans spill from your lips. So caught up in chasing your climax, you don't hear the front door opening or Sunghoon's footsteps coming down the hall.

"Baby, I'm ho-" Sunghoon's voice cuts off abruptly as he stops dead in the bedroom doorway, eyes widening at the erotic sight before him. His breath hitches, arousal slamming into him like a freight train as he watches you arch wantonly into your own touch, little whimpers falling from your mouth.

"Fuck," he rasps, the single word dripping with desire. The sound of his voice startles you and your head snaps up, hand stilling as your eyes meet Sunghoon's burning gaze.

"S-Sunghoon! You're home early..." you stammer, face flushing at being caught in such a compromising position. But Sunghoon is already striding towards the bed, pulling his shirt over his head and letting it drop to the floor.

"Don't stop on my account, baby," he purrs, kneeling on the mattress and crawling over you predatorily. "Watching you touch yourself is so fucking hot... I want to see you make yourself feel good."

His long fingers close around your wrist, guiding your hand back between your thighs as he captures your mouth in a searing kiss. You moan into his mouth as he encourages you to continue, elegant digits sliding through your slick folds.

Sunghoon swallows your needy whimpers eagerly, tongue delving past your parted lips to claim your mouth thoroughly. He rolls your sensitive bud between his fingers, stroking expertly and sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine.

Breaking the kiss, he mouths along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe before rasping lowly, "That's it, baby girl... make yourself come for me. Wanna watch you fall apart on my fingers, wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make when you're desperate for it..."

Sunghoon's dirty words and skilled touch send you hurtling towards the edge embarrassingly fast. Your free hand fists in his dark hair as your back bows off the bed, high-pitched keens escaping your throat.

"Sung- ahh! I'm- I'm gonna-" you babble incoherently, thighs beginning to tremble as your peak rapidly approaches.

"Come for me, baby," Sunghoon commands, voice dripping with dark promise. "Let go, I've got you. Fuck, you're so perfect like this, wanna see you come undone..."

A few more firm strokes of his wicked fingers and you're flying apart with a sharp cry of his name, spots dancing behind your eyelids as ecstasy crashes over you in waves.

Sunghoon works you through it, touching you just right to draw out your pleasure for as long as possible. Only when the last aftershocks have faded does he withdraw his hand, bringing his glistening fingers to his lips to taste your release.

"So good, baby," he praises roughly, eyes glinting with promise as he settles his weight over you. "But you didn't think I'd let you have all the fun, did you? We're just getting started..."

_

The way this was only a Sunghoon hard thought .... Sorry i got carried away in Heeseung's part :( no m not sorry. Anyways hope you enjoy ^^

[tojipie]

ma’am you mentioned slipping a guard a wad of cash for a quick closet fuck in your story so like…how often did prison toji have to bribe the guards? 😅

prison boyfriend toji series linked here <3

content: semi-public, intimidation, mentions of incarceration, facials

custodial wing at 11:30

that’s what he’d whispered to you before you parted during your day visit, hand reaching under the hem of your shirt to trace shapes into the curve of your spine.

you didn’t need to ask questions knowing how often the two of you pulled this off. if the state wouldn’t grant you two conjugal visits on account of you not being married.. then you’d just have to make your own. 

getting started wasn’t a challenge in the slightest knowing entry-level guards melted like putty once a little stipend was involved. money was everything in this system, and toji had left you a lot of money.

once every two months was the deal. frequent enough that you’d both get your fill of each other outside supervised visits, but not so often as to draw suspicion. 

naturally, you make a beeline to your destination as soon visiting hours come to a close, mumbling something about needing the bathroom to a clearly peeved officer at the front desk. 

toji comes into view just at the end of the hall, facing away from you. you realize his body is obstructing another person as you you near, bits of their conversation floating in and out. 

“you really should be in your cell fushiguro...”

“just wait till’ she gets here before you do something stupid.. christ.”

you pause just beside toji, peering over at the navy blue-clad stranger in front of you. 

“where’s..” you trail off, eyes flitting between the two men. great, your regular officer wasn’t on duty today. a fucking warning might have been nice. 

the new guard is probably half your boyfriend’s size—and age, not a firm bone in his body by the looks of it. if he did, you figure toji would already be in solitary for sneaking out of his cell. your shoulders relax at the realization. at least this guy wasn’t a threat. 

the inmate shoots you a knowing smile, sly as ever despite the high-stakes situation. you quickly move to rustle through your pockets at the sight of his outstretched palm, placing a wad of cash in his hand.

“why don’t we give our pal a little gift, hm?” toji coos, holding the money up between two fingers and shaking it like a dog treat. “wanna give me an hour with my girl?”

the guard frowns, looking around cautiously.

“we’re not really supposed to take bribes…”

the fake smile on toji’s face falters. “fuck does that mean?” he says in disbelief.

“well honestly, it means that i’m going to have to report this.” the younger man says, reaching for his walkie-talkie to alert the rest of the security team. 

“are you stupid?” toji seethes. sizing the smaller man up. regret instantly washes over the the guard’s face, eyes blowing impossibly wide as he’s backed up against the wall.

“no sir— I mean— i’m sorry!” a tattooed fist slams against the concrete, dangerously close to his face. 

“i could kill you right now. could snap your neck and keep you in that closet over there,” he whispers, jutting his thumb behind him. you know there’s no real intent behind his words, toji simply wasn’t that cruel. 

the paralyzed guard cowers at the threat, taking the two of you by surprise as a wet spot grows on the front of his pants. gross.

“you gonna piss your pants every time a real man speaks to you? huh?” he barks, laughing at the younger man’s misfortune. 

“no no no please,” the guard babbles, motioning toward the closet. “i’ll keep watch i promise, i— i don’t even need the money i’m sorry.”

“good cause you weren’t getting it,” toji sneers, pocketing the cash before picking you up bridal style. 

“that was mean,” you whisper, oddly impressed at the inmate’s intimidation skills.

“yeah? you like when i’m mean?” he mutters jokingly, hands already squeezing the curve of your ass from where his palms are holding your body up. the contact makes you shudder, sending bolts of electricity right to your core.

you loved seeing him like this, as sick as it was. possessive, short-tempered, commanding. it all made your knees weak. 

you find yourself propped up against the door of the closet moments later, held up by his hands as he wastes no time, leaning in to mouth at the curve of your neck. 

the way he maneuvers you without so much as a sigh only stokes the flames deep in your core. toji’s strength was something to behold, an absolute marvel.

the closet is dim, lit by a pull-string bulb older than the two of you combined. you’re so close that you don’t know where your body ends and his starts, making it seem like there’s not enough air for the both of you. 

you reach down with one hand, keeping the other on his shoulder for balance. deft fingers work up the scratchy fabric of his brown uniform, exposing his abs with a hum.

fuck, he was getting bigger, muscles chiseling deeper and deeper as each day went by. the barest hint of black ink peeks just under the hem of his shirt, grabbing your attention for just a moment.

“lift it up angel,” he rasps, mouth still working at the thin skin of your collarbones. purple blood vessels bloom under his lips, the trail of hickeys growing larger by the minute.

the inmate helps you strip his upper half, lips detaching from your body with a sly smile.

“toji, oh my god,” you gasp, running a careful hand over the barely healed tattoo. 

“didn’t want you to see till’ it was finished,” he explains, grinding the hard length of his cock against your clothed core. 

toji hadn’t taken his shirt off the last two times you’d snuck off together, opting fuck you through three orgasms with his pants around his knees, showing off the barest hint of his happy trail. 

you figured it was for the sake of saving time, a precautionary measure in case your situation was compromised. naturally, there was a much deeper reason behind it.

delicate swirled letters brand your name across his ribs, etched into tanned skin amid a background of black and grey mist. the skin around the edge is still pink and delicate. blushed by the spike of a needle over, and over, and over.

god.. how did he even get this done? and so well at that? the things he manages to achieve even while serving time never fail to blow you away.

you hadn’t even realized he’d stopped grinding into you, his palm just barely cradling your face.

“you okay?” he says it so gently, like you’ll break. 

“it’s perfect,” you tell him, basking in the shy smile he gives you. scarred lips finally meet yours, setting you down on the floor of the closet to shimmy your skirt down. toji pulls away with an audible hum, tapping the inside of your calf to get you to open your legs wider.

the inmate wastes no time, hooking a thumb under the fabric covering your heat, and pulling your panties to the side. you feel his hulking body drop to a knee in the dim light, running thick hands up the soft skin of your calves before pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. 

“beautiful,” he whispers, though the stars that dance across your vision keep you wondering if he’s talking about you, or your pussy. 

and then your thoughts come to a screeching halt as a warm, dexterous tongue licks up the length of your slit. the noise he makes is obscene, desperate, groaning low in his chest as he tastes you for the first time in months. 

you nearly forgot how good it feels to be taken like this, struggling to maintain your balance as toji laps at your hole, two hands settling on your knees should they decide to buckle. 

“tastes so fucking good,” 

he says it directly into your heat, shooting vibrations straight into your core. warm velvet sneaks up to lap at your sensitive bud, tracing hot, wet circles in the spot that matters most.

you peek down just enough to see him free his cock from his boxers. two fingers swipe through your heat, using your slick to ease the slide of his hand along his shaft. 

it’s filthy, the way he’s always been so readily able to shift how he acts around you. cold, unforgiving hands turning into warm fingers that bring you nothing but pleasure. 

you’re the only one who sees him like this— who will ever see him like this. on his knees in the back of a cramped closet, making love to your cunt like a man starved. 

the feeling of your approaching high rips you from your thoughts, hands tangling into his mess of raven hair.

“gonna cum,” you whine, pushing at his forehead to get his face away from your clit. the tiniest bit of relief floods your core as he pulls away, his mouth and chin dripping with slick. 

“turn around.”

you haven’t even fully pressed yourself against the door before the blunt head of his cock is sliding into your entrance, filling you to the brim in one fluid motion.

toji takes a second to palm at the flesh of your ass, humming in appreciation as you adjust to his size.

“please,” you groan, “please just fuck me toji, please.”

the inmate pauses, slipping a hand under the hem of your shirt to play with your tits.

“should i?” he whispers, groaning as you clench down on his length.

frustrated, you push your hips back into his shaft, swallowing him over and over while harsh pants ring out behind you. large hands squeeze around your waist to stall your movements, giving him space to rut into you like you need.

the feeling is seismic, explosive. sending you right over the edge and into the abyss as black streaks over your vision. you don’t think you’ve ever been fucked this good before, taking deep, thorough gulps of air as you’re humped and rutted into against the fragile wood of the closet door.

large fingers wrap around your wrist and pin your arm behind you as you reach down to toy with yourself.

“like this,” he tells you. the implications clear as day.

cum on his cock or don’t cum at all. 

and cum you do, shuddering as you flood yourself between your legs. his pace doesn’t let up for a single second, bucking up into that special spot over and over.

“knees,” he commands, tone as urgent as ever. “fuck, get on your knees.”

you don’t have to be told twice, sinking to the floor to face him as he pulls out of you.

“open baby, open up for me.” the noise his hand makes while her jerks himself off is absolutely debilitating.

you tiredly rest your cheek just under the jut of his hip bone, pressing soft kisses under the far edge of his tattoo. the aftershocks of your high leave you breathless as thick spurts of seed cover the left half of your face. 

toji takes you by the face and holds you in front of him, fingers squishing your lips into a pout as he paints your face with the last of his load.

“there we go, there we go, eat it for me,” he pants from above you, chest heaving from the force of his orgasm. you gather as much as you can with your tongue, letting him thumb the rest into your mouth.

“beautiful,” he says, letting you clean off his fingers with your tongue. and this time you’re sure that he’s talking about you, his girl. his everything.

taglist ! 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa @tojishugetiddies @wheredidmycrowngo @unknownspecies @ushygushybaby @ebiharachan @hoshigray @crazychaoticizzy @denypipa @watyousayin @tempest1art @sakuraryomen01 @kariito-art @vkeyy @mxtokko @inumakiiz @rosieee491 @loveme-b4by @suguxo @namjoonsbuspass @tojis-luver @complexivelovely @dancingwithdeities @sunflwrsugar @catvader101 @ktsgrl @princessos-blog @4ut0p5y @swiftsongs-mp3 @mycocoapuffs @adrenepinephrine @na0koz @suguscape @jaswonder3 @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @getousrep @jeannieboys @darkstarlight82 @freebananabeard @vivian-555 @kentokaze

[midnight1nk]

So, this week's episode...

[Spoilers below cut]

I'm absolutely terrified, it's not even funny. I can't even click it. But I have to... for the LOREEEEEEEEE... okay, let's-a go....

(The following is my live reaction:)

ay the TADC plug, of course

"Born to shit, Forced to wipe" - not smg3

wise words Three

also, the Ferris Wheel and rollercoaster thing is still there in the background (Ferris Wheel wedding, my beloved...)

I knew someone was going to bring up Meggy and her disappearance

LEGGY! MEGGY, WE'LL RESCUE YOU I PROMISE!!!

THANK YOU THREE for asking the right questions here

oh... not what I expected. at least the crew knows this is obviously Mr Puzzles

NAME DROP

OK, a LOT to digest here:

These are all the possible minigames that we might see in WOTFI. Well, at least all the attractions we could see...

a Mr Puzzles Chonk plush (in the bottom right)

a Tunnel of Love attraction... hmmmm.......

Huh, I didn't know this was by the coast of the Mushroom Kingdom. Or it could be an island/peninsula.

The what now, Leggy?

YEP I knew that once they found out, they would want to leave

...and of course, Mario wants to stay

Yeah, Luigi said it himself

but also, look at the Mr Puzzles cardboard cutout in the back, he's wearing Meggy's cowboy hat from Western Spaghetti

Alright, but before we go in, we gotta have a buddy system, guys

All these critiques are going to make Mr Puzzles lose himself even more than he already is

I think I saw someone posted about submitting a water gun game so congrats for getting in!

Leggy Plush!!

also spider-man plush... symbiote... venom... GOOP!4????

...Once Upon A Perfect SMG4?

[*points at Four and Mario*] The sillies

ok, but like, why is Three smiling like that while everyone else looks so disappointed?

They did the buddy system!

Bob: "Those dumbasses will see ANYTHING and get excited."

I feel seen and I don't like it.

I don't like this either. I already know this is a trap but like noooooo

Three just standing there like a dad watching over his kid

Someone else also submitted a mini-game involving a ducky fishing game

GOD DAYUM.... why did you have to pose like that, Three? You're not beating the allegations, huh.

Aw, Three really wanted to enjoy a carnival if Mr Puzzles wasn't involved (writers, write that down + carnival dates)

OK NOPE WE NEED TO GET OUT OF HERE NOW

🫵 🏳️‍🌈⁉️

oh c'mon now, it's just plainly obvious. Not that it should be surprising, everyone's part of the skittle squad (tm)

STRONG WOMEN we love to see it

...that can't be a real thing... can it?

same Luigi same

YES PLEASE CAN WE?

sorry dude, they really locked in

also what the hell is that building in the back?

Luigi (or rather the SMG4 fandom): "See? I can handle this! I'm not afraid anymore! Do you hear me? I'm not afraid-" [*horror jumpscare*] [*scream*]

NOT EVEN MELONY'S GOD POWERS COULD HELP US, WE'RE FUCKED

NOOOOOO NOT KAREN AND SAIKO

THREE WE NEED TO LEAVE NOW

NOOOOOOOO THREEEEE I THOUGHT HE WAS GOING TO BE THE LAST ONE TO MAKE IT OUT

[*sobbing*] he sent one last text to warn them :( he really does care

AND HE SENT IT TO FOUR [*head in hands*]

the contact names they have for each other.... (I'm not well)

WE GOTTA GO [*runs*] GET OUT GET OUT

Leggy... why did your face change like that?

WHAT WAS THAT CRYPTIC CAPTION?!

Mario, please don't sacrifice yourself... oh, thank god! They really are having me panicking for the smallest things

wait... OMG THEY SAW MY SUBMISSION! THEY SAW IT!

the mini-game challenge that I submitted:

Pop & Whirl: Everyone gets a bag of popcorn. The winner must keep all of their popped kernels in their bag, without dropping a single one... while being chased around the carnival by a collapsed Ferris Wheel (Professor Layton style)!

I DON'T CARE IF IT DOESN'T HAPPEN AGAIN IN WOTFI, I'LL TAKE IT. But if it does happen, I'll draw lawyer Meggy with a redesigned Ace Attorney-esque outfit (somehow)

please don't tell me the green pipe is also a trap...

...the exit door from TADC?

oh god, why does this remind me of the dark web?

and the eyes on the mushrooms... [*IGBP flashbacks*]

heh heh, funny mirrors... AH SHIT PUZZLES, DON'T JUMPSCARE ME LIKE THAT

actually, now that I think of it, Mr Puzzles hasn't revealed himself this whole time...

THE DIDNEY ENGINE ROOM?!

...holy shit

so was I right about us getting to see Mr Puzzles' "truest form" and the whole "Eye of Ra" thing?

are those his arms? and the circle things, it could be part of his cyborg texture but they also look like eyes.

the fog part is really interesting because they could've gone with any "spooky" color but they chose this. It's the creative vision, the one Didney had in this room.

This really reminds me of the goo from IGBP and Wren's wire simulation in Western Spaghetti, but also from this angle, a bit of Zero's "no legs" body design.

"His obsession becoming his identity" - Puzzles connected himself to the single star Didney had. You got it right, past Ink.

HUH?! YOU CAN'T END IT THERE

AND THEY GRAY-ED OUT OUTRO, NO MUSIC! IT'S ABOUT TO GO DOWN, GUYS

also congrats to Nikej1708241 for making it to the credits 🎉

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

That was a pretty solid episode ngl. Probably not as "plot twist-y"

(i know that's not a word) as the previous episode but my spaghetti gods, it delivered! Not Marty again, we may have to rethink this one.

Ok, I've made a list of all the attractions and mini-games there are in the carnival grounds in Puzzle Park:

Ferris Wheel

"Tender Tunnel" (Tunnel of Love attraction)

Merry-Go-Round carousel

Basketball arcade game

Hammer game

Bumper Cars

"House of Crazy" funhouse (also that fits Mr Puzzles somehow)

A spooky cart ride

Water gun game

Rocket ride

Arcade (just flat-out an arcade)

Clown Ball Game

(There's apparently a cafe???)

Ducky Pond fishing game

Pizza shop (....marty?)

It's probably not all of them, we would just have to wait and see, but if you submitted a mini-game that involves any of these, congrats, you likely got in!!!

I still very much enjoyed this episode and some of what I theorized could possibly come true. And some didn't, which is totally okay with me. I'll cherish the Ferris Wheel chase scene regardless :)

We still have to wait for a trailer or a special video in regards to WOTFI, which I will have to analyze and see what's to be expected. From the looks of it in this episode, it seems like it's up to SMG4 and Mario to rescue their friends one by one by completing the mini-games. The more people they rescue, the more help they can get to complete the games. And that includes saving Meggy at the end.

Now, personally, I don't want Mr Puzzles to die. Not yet. There is still a lot of potential that could go for him. A similar redemption arc just as Three went through. Puzzlevision 2. Goop!4. Marty. Anything could happen. Then again, he could die.

Now you might think he might not die because he has a plushie, but there's literally merch of Axol and Desti and they're dead. Puzzles isn't safe from this possibility.

Put in your final bets, my dear fellows, because nothing will ever be the same again...

[the-californicationist]

he cleans up nice

Captain John Price has a medal ceremony and you help him get ready for his big event.

Warning: face fucking, domination/submission, literal boot-licking

The desire to breathe was overriding your ability to stay still. Because his cock was so thick, and because he shoved it deep enough to block your airway, you were losing control of your movements, your body writhing and squirming to free itself, tears running down your face as your system tried whatever it could to force you to take a breath. The tiles were slippery and cold on your shins as you shifted your weight, desperate to get oxygen into your lungs. He moved his hand from your jaw to the back of your head and held you snugly there, shushing you,

“Shh, baby. Count to ten for me. That’s it. Be good for me, alright?”

You nodded as much as his grip allowed and moved forward, nuzzling the dense hair around the base of his cock, lapping your tongue around his edges, moaning loudly and feeling the vibrations through your mouth. Hot, slick drool escaped the corner of your lip and ran down his skin. Your throat began to clench on its own, gagging with panic. 

John pulled himself from you quickly, making loud sticky noises as he did, your body gasping for air as it recovered. 

“Deep breath, sweetheart. So good. You did so good for me, you know that? Such a beautiful little slag, hm? Loves that cock.”

Without much hesitation, he fed himself back into your swollen mouth. You instinctively tried to push him back, begging with your bloodshot eyes for mercy, and he looked down with his brow furrowed,

“Uh, oh. It’s big, innit? That throat feels so fuckin’ brilliant. Lemme feel it, baby. Just wanna feel it again. Fuck, yes!”

John thrust his cock in and out of your mouth fully for three or four pounding strokes, head thrown back in joyous agony, leaking precome onto your tongue, salty-sweet and warm. 

He’d put you in the shower without the water on, playing with your nipples and kissing your neck at first, just sweet as a first love’s touch, but he had other plans. 

Kissing turned to licking. Licking turned to teeth, and with them he’d subdued you, not allowing you to come but keeping you dripping, drawing out more and more of your fluid onto his hands, smearing it onto your lips and thighs, eating it off of his hands.

By the time he even allowed you to fall to your knees, you were practically begging to taste him, mewling and whining, your hands constantly fondling his growing length, eager like an addict. 

And now, here you were, bruised and swollen, pink from your struggle, full of his hardness and sore from his challenging girth. He smiled down at you,

“Let me hear your screams. Scream my name around that cock. You look so hot when your mouth is full of me. Bloody hell, look at that.”

“Mmh?” You made an attempt, struggling to keep your eyes open you were so drunk from his power. 

“Oh, fuck. Again,” he groaned, bucking forward uncontrollably. 

“Mmhn! Mmhn, mmm,” you poured gasoline on his fire.

“Fuuuuuckkin’ hell. You wanna taste my come?”

“Mm hm,” you nodded, playing with your swaying breasts as he fucked your face against his hands. 

“So goddamn pretty. Fuck -” John rutted forward, almost losing his balance as he spilled himself into your mouth, filling your cheeks with his melting saltiness. Cruelly, he forced himself back down, making you swallow him in order to have access to the air again. 

“John!” You gasped as he released you, sitting on the tile beside you, panting just as hard as you were. 

He chuckled darkly, jerking his softening cock in slow movements,

“C’mere, love. Clean me up with that tongue of yours.”

You bent forward, awkward against the biting tile, trying to lick the stray come on his shaft and balls, dutiful and diligent. 

“Mmm, good girl. You’re so damn pretty when you’ve got my come on your lips like that. Gonna make me late for my speech.”

Captain John Price was receiving a Medal of Honor tonight, and Laswell had to threaten him with trainee duty in order for him to agree to attend. It was more meaningless “chest candy” - as Soap liked to call it - and he couldn’t have cared less. 

“Can’t wait to see you all dressed up. You know how much I like you in that uniform, babe,” you kissed his neck chastely, begging for attention again, needy and wet from your work. 

“Wish we could just stay in. I can smell your needy little cunt from here, and I wanna fill you up,” he stole your mouth to kiss and suck on your lips, not caring if he was covering you in spit and tasting his own come. 

“Come on,” he said, breaking away for a moment, “Shower with me so I can play with you, baby.”

He helped you up and turned on the steaming water. It sprayed over your skin and made you dizzy from its heat. John held you in his arms and rubbed you down with soap, smearing it all over your breasts and plucking at your nipples indulgently. 

You felt sparks rush through your core, and you struggled to form a coherent thought. Under his heavy control, you found yourself pliant and exceedingly needy. 

“John, please. I need…please?”

“You need to come, don’t you? Is that what you’re beggin’ me for?”

“Yes,” you nuzzled against him, canting your hips shamelessly, presenting yourself to him like you were in heat, “Can you help me, please?”

“Sweet girl, so desperate, hm?”

John kissed your neck through the stream of hot water and sank his thick fingers deep into your pussy, thrusting in and out, curling his fingertips to press into your walls. His thumb drew languid circles around your clit as you trembled in his grasp, screaming and nearly crying from the searing pleasure. 

“That’s it, baby. Use my hand to get off. Just like that. My pretty fucking slut, so good for me.”

“John - ah, fuck…” you lost your breath and gasped. The sensations rolled through you like a storm, lightning and thunder rumbling in your belly, flinging you into his chest to be crushed into his huge, looming frame. 

He cradled you as you recovered, washing your hair and his, kissing you when and how he wanted, touching you when and how he wanted, claiming you as he saw fit. You surrendered to him, fully under his thrall. Price helped towel you off, and he braided your hair reverently. 

You remained fully naked, but you began to help him dress for his event. His SAS dress uniform was black with a red stripe down the leg, a red sash, and a white belt. You zipped the fly of his pants and buttoned it together, making sure it sat exactly right on his waist. You helped him button his jacket, each one of the gold buttons slipping into the soft holes easily. 

The silver belt buckle slipped into its socket, clicking securely into place. His huge shoulders and wide chest stretched the expensive fabric and swelled beneath it. 

One by one, he held each of his medals in his hand, and you knew what was coming next. 

“Go on, baby. Shine them up for me," He held the medal out to you and you licked your tongue across it, behaving as if the sharp stars were the soft head of his cock. Each time you finished your work, he allowed you to pin the medal to his chest, making sure each one was straight and true. Then, it began again. With each new medal, Price breathed harder and harder, his voice becoming strained as he praised you,

“Such a good fuckin’ girl. Fuck…”

When you were through with the chest candy, you pinned his spaulders and his sash. The silk felt cool to the touch. It clipped at his waist and you knelt between his knees as he sat, lifting his foot for you to put on his socks. He put his boots on, but waited for you to tie them. You laced his boots with experienced precision and looked up to admire your work. 

He smiled down at you, glittering in his uniform, looking like a king,

“Thank you, baby. You take such good care of me. My sweet girl. You have one job left, you know…”

You nodded, blushing. You bent down on the ground and licked the edges of his boots, tasting the leather and smelling the oil on the laces. He pet your head and kissed your cheek when you finished, comforting you,

“You better be ready when I get back, baby. I’m not finished with that gorgeous mouth.”

[wileys-russo]

cheeky little angst to fluff blurb for leah??

leah didn't do her acl in this because i said so insensitive II l.williamson

"-so i'll rest again for a bit in bed, go to breakfast and then i think we have our team walk in a couple hours? oh! then a few of the girls are gonna go for breakfast and to the beach tomorrow before our flights since they're later at night. the beaches here are literally insane babe the water is so blue, i'll make sure to send you some photos. i'm keen for one last taste of summer before returning to the bleak dead cold of the uk." you joked with a smile, your girlfriend humming tiredly in response.

"i'm sorry baby i'm talking too much. are you sure you're okay? you played brilliantly leah really, i was so proud of you." you softly assured, as you had been for the majority of this phone call which was really annoying the blonde more than helping her to feel better as you intended.

both of you away with your respective national teams for international break you'd both been on the phone much as you could, forever attached at the hip you missed the older english girl who held your heart terribly.

however it would appear that your break was going a whole lot better than leah's, australia coming away with an 8-0 win a few days ago and england having just lost 3-2.

your chances of qualifying were looking up whilst hers seemed in a jeopardy she'd not predicted experiencing.

"i'm fine." if you would have picked up on the hidden sharpness of her words you might have caught on and changed topics, however still half asleep you missed it, having been up very early to watch your girlfriends match.

"losses happen lee it doesn't mean you girls have any less chance of qualifying, you've come back from worse yeah? heads held high and leave it in the past, same thing you tell us all each week in red babe." you tried to comfort her only your words had the opposite affect.

with the loss playing heavily on her mind and leah attributing a large portion of the blame toward herself in defence, she felt a bitter bubble of jealousy and frustration begin to build up in her throat. and before she could think any better of it, it came out suddenly like a toxic word vomit.

"yeah well some of us have actual challenges to face to qualify. we can't all get the easy draw and piss poor low ranking teams to smash 8-0, scoring hat tricks against players with half your professional experience and no funding into their programs, can we? the entire olympics qualification system is a fucking joke!" leah snapped, a few of her team mates heads swiveling toward her with a mix of frowns and surprise at her harsh tone.

silence was all that she was met with after her little outburst, you opening and closing your mouth in somewhat a state of shock at the venomous tone from your usually calm mannered and always supportive girlfriend.

"you must be tired and your flights soon. i'll call you later before warm ups?" you asked hopefully, heart hammering in your chest. "no, i'm going into the training centre soon as i get back." leah replied bluntly, clearly not intending to watch your match as you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

"right. well i hope you get some rest on your flight then." and with that the line beeped signaling you ended the call, leah shoving her phone into her pocket and resting her chin on the handle of her suitcase she was currently sat on.

"leah mate...that was painful to listen to." georgia winced from beside her, keira humming in agreement. "what? she's being insensative! if she knew me she'd know i fucking hate being coddled and thats all she was doing, as well as flaunting her stupid win." leah muttered with a roll of her eyes.

"is that seriously what you think?" keira questioned, eyebrows knitted together as leah only gave a small shrug. "leah." the younger girl sighed, shaking her head.

"she barely mentioned the win to you when it happened, she spoke about her hat trick maybe once on facetime that night? she stayed in to call you like normal instead of being out for dinner celebrating with her team." keira began to lecture the blonde beside her.

"do ya know what time it is in western australia right now leah?" georgia continued on, eyes wide looking at her phone as again leah only shrugged, though a hint of guilt was just starting to creep in.

"it was 3:30 in the morning there when we kicked off and she watched the entire match and then stayed up for a few hours afterwards to call you, so that she could comfort you and try to make ya feel better." georgia lectured, leahs stern gaze beginning to crack at her words.

"then you just dismissed all of the graft she put in last match and her entire teams hard work down to something they have no control over. doesn't matter who they play leah, they deserved each win." keira continued, leah taking her bottom lip in between her teeth as she sat up and rubbed her face with her hands.

"then she gets up at 3:30 to watch your game and you tell her you aren't bothered to watch hers when its at a more than reasonable time, because you're busy feeling sorry for yourself." georgia added on, yet another blow of guilt for her to swallow.

"did you think it was insensitive when we beat them in the semi final of their home world cup, and you celebrated with your team afterwards?" keira asked with a raised eyebrow.

"nah that was different! i went right to her first to make sure she was okay and tell her how proud of her i was, and she told me to go out afterwards and went out with her own team." leah defended suddenly, shut down by the looks from her best friends either side of her.

"exactly leah, so then how is that any different than her trying to console you after this loss? and then you had to go and open your stupid hot headed mouth, stick your foot in it and probably make her feel like shit before her final international match of the break, which you all but said you wouldn't be watching. how is that fair?" keira delivered the final punch as leah crumpled, head hung in her hands with a small groan.

"yeah alright alright i get it, i've royally fucked up here." leah sighed, standing suddenly and walking off with her phone held to her ear, calling you over and over as each time the phone would ring out only affirming to her that she had really stepped in it this time.

trying you for a fifth time, urged to hurry up from her team mates as their flight was boarding leah's phone vibrated with a message as again you didn't answer.

from; lover girl i need some space please, i'll call you once i land back in london x

with a frustrated sigh leah heart reacted the message not wanting to overstep, locking her phone and hurrying over to keira who was impatiently waiting to board.

she had some serious groveling to do.

~

you opened and scanned through the multiple messages from leah she'd sent while obviously watching the game, withholding the urge to smile at her running commentary and complimentary words about how you and the team played.

still quite frustrated with her and still wanting space you opted not to reply, locking your phone and tucking it under your leg as you rummaged around in your backpack for your airpods.

"you're not gonna call leah?" steph asked with a look of surprise as you settled in beside her on the bus back to the hotel, where as normally you'd sit by yourself to call your girlfriend after each match like clockwork.

"nope." you answered simply, shaking your head and tucking one knee up to your chest. "what's happened?" the older girl sighed knowingly, draping an arm over the back of you as your head came to rest on her shoulder.

through the four seasons you'd played together at arsenal the two of you alongside caitlin and now kyra had become like a family, relishing in the familiar comfort of having your fellow aussies around living in a foreign country where you hardly saw your actual loved ones.

"i think we had an argument? but we didn't exactly argue." you replied, still a little in the dark yourself on what had caused leah's outburst. steph only gave you a confused stare and nodded for you to explain further as you did so, recounting your conversation with the blonde captain this morning.

"ahhh, i see." steph nodded now caught up as you hummed tiredly, the time now nearing eleven at night. "you know she loves you very much. but we both know she hardly has a filter on what she says sometimes, and she's quite potentially the most patriotic person i know both for club and country." steph chuckled, patting your shoulder.

"norf london foreva." you mocked her accent quietly with a small smile, admittedly missing it even more now you knew you'd not be speaking to her for a couple of days while you flew.

"but thats not to dismiss how harsh she was and how that would have made you feel. i think some space is a good idea, gives her some time to reflect on why you're upset and why what she said was wrong. you gonna be okay?" the brunette asked softly as the bus pulled in outside your hotel.

"yeah, i'll be fine. it's been nice being back home and seeing all the girls again, and we're going for brunch and to the beach tomorrow. i'm just focusing on that and the horrendous jetlag we're due for once we touch back down." you groaned, steph agreeing as the two of you filed off the bus.

~

"kyra i promise you, if you so much as breathe near me for the next twenty four hours i am going to murder you." you spoke calmly, stopping to take a deep breath as the younger girl purposefully stepped on the back of your trainer again.

you loved her dearly but it was like having your own child as she'd wound you up for hours now, giving you a brief moment of rest when she'd finally passed out on the plane. but now fully awake and in her usual tiresomely hyperactive mood she'd been kicking the back of your knees out and stepping on the back of your shoes from the moment you stepped off the plane.

"leave her be! honestly mate you're so annoying." caitlin groaned on your behalf, wrangling the girl into a tight headlock and dragging her away from you as the four of you headed out of baggage collection.

"i see your personal chauffeur has arrived." you looked up in confusion as steph elbowed you, spotting leah a hundred or so metres away. "ooo she's off to kiss her little girlfr-" kyra's sarcastic kisses and teasing words were cut short as caitlin suddenly swept her feet out from under her, sending her tumbling to the ground on her ass.

"oi!" with that the two took off chasing one another around the terminal, steph kissing your cheek and telling you to call her if you needed her as she hurried off to sort your friends out, the three of them set to take an uber together.

you watched leah nervously shift her weight from one foot to another as you slowly made your way over, her face partially hidden by the hood drawn over her head. a hoodie which you quickly recognized as one of yours, a faded black australian national team hoodie from years ago.

you also noticed she had a bunch of flowers in one hand which she immediately held out to you. "hi." leah breathed out quietly once you arrived in front of her and had taken the flowers with a mumbled thank you.

"hi." you echoed back, adjusting your bag on your shoulder and shaking your head as she offered to take it from you, the two of you wordlessly making your way out of the airport and to the car park.

you dumped your bag in the boot which she opened and closed for you, sliding into the passenger seat with a tired sigh and carefully placing the flowers on the floor between your feet as leah sat beside you, starting up the car and pulling away.

"can we talk? or do you want some time to like actually sleep and rest, you must be insanely jetlagged. i can stay at beth and viv's place tonight? give you some space." leah offered, the two of you having been living together for well over a year now.

"no it's fine, we can talk." you confirmed, adjusting your position as your head slumped against the window, eyes struggling to stay open which didn't go unnoticed by the blonde beside you.

"are you sure? you look exhausted we can-" "leah i'm sure, we need to talk."

you hadn't mean to come across as bluntly as you did given your jetlag, as you saw surprise flicker across your girlfriends face for a moment before she nodded and you mumbled a quiet apology, rubbing your eyes.

"well i'll start. firstly; i am so incredibly unbelievably sincerely sorry for what i said to you love. i was tired and frustrated with my own performance not that thats any excuse, and selfishly a little jealous of your big win when we lost. which was completely unfair because i am so so proud of you in everything that you do. i promise!" leah started, glancing over at you as she stopped at a red light and you gave her a small smile, nodding for her to continue.

"you put so many hours of extra training in to prepare for the world cup and of course thats payed off and you're finally seeing the benefits. I was bitter and selfish and i lashed out at you when you were just trying to make me feel better, like always, and i am really really sorry baby." leah continued, falling silent after as you assumed she'd finished talking.

"well firstly; you were an asshole." leah winced at that but nodded, understanding her actions were to blame here.

"but i understand you were feeling poorly after a loss, i just wish you'd communicated that with me a little better and i would have left you be with your own thoughts rather than talking your ear off and probably worsening your mood." you sighed, the blonde quick to assure she normally loved you talking her ear off.

"i just felt like i didn't understand what i'd done to cause you to be upset with me, and then you snapped about the qualifying process and you weren't entirely wrong but-"

"i was! i was wrong about that. its been the way they're done for years now and its not anything you or i are ever going to have the influence to change single handedly, and i should have never dismissed the shift you and the girls put in for that win." leah was quick to clarify before apologizing for interrupting you.

"thank you. next time please just communicate with me how you're feeling and what you need lee." you smiled tiredly, your girlfriend reaching for your hand and smiling in relief when you allowed her to take it, the blonde bringing it to her mouth and placing a few tender kisses on your knuckles as she glanced toward you.

"eyes on the road thanks charmer." you smiled tiredly, leah not letting go of your hand but dropping it to rest on the middle console, her other hand expertly maneuvering the steering wheel.

the rest of the ride home was filled with a much more comfortable silence, leah thanking her lucky stars you'd been so forgiving and remanding herself over and over for ever wronging you, smiling softly at you asleep in the seat beside her.

parking in the driveway she flicked the car off, carefully getting out and softly closing her door. she grabbed your bags out of the back and hurried them inside, dropping them in your shared bedroom and rushing back to the car, leaving the front door open.

gently opening your door she caught your body as it slid out having been leant against the door, your eyes shooting open as you inhaled sharply and sat up. "we're home baby." leah advised, affectionately rubbing your flushed cheek with her thumb as she pressed a kiss to your temple.

with a tired nod you allowed her to pull you up and out of the car, walking yourself to the front door and rubbing your eyes. you stretched as you crossed the threshold of your home, squealing as leahs hands poked at the sliver of skin which popped out as your top rode up.

"hello." you latched yourself onto her the moment she closed the front door and turned, your cheek smooshed into her shoulder as her hoodie clad arms wound tightly around you. "i really really missed you." leah sighed, swaying the two of you back and forth as you relished in the familiar warmth of her embrace.

"so i can see, you've become an honorary tillie." you teased, tugging on the sides of the hoodie as your chin moved to rest against her sternum, looking up at her in amusement. "for you my girl? anything." leah promised with a soft smitten smile, leaning down to kiss you.

"leah what is that?" you spotted a piece of cardboard on the kitchen counter over her shoulder, pulling away from her right before her lips met yours causing her to frown.

"welcome home from prison!" you read out the sign with a scoff, leahs arms folding around you from behind as her chin rested on your shoulder and you felt her body vibrate with a quiet laughter.

"thought it might be a bit too soon for the joke to land right without an apology first." leah admitted, pressing a few light kisses to the side of your neck.

"mm yeah good choice. dick!" you shoved her playfully as she continued to cling onto you, spinning you around. "may i have a proper kiss now please?" the blonde pouted, puckering her lips as you smiled, shaking your head.

"well i am all for charity and since you asked so nicely." she pinched your side for the comment, pressing her lips to yours before you could say another word.

the way her lips slotted perfectly with yours would forever make your head spin, sending you into a love drunk haze of dizziness at the euphoric feeling of kissing her. the way her bottom lip would part slightly as her hand flew to the back of your neck, her tongue slipping into your mouth as her thumb rubbed gentle circles just below your ear.

her lips always soft and welcoming, her kisses calculated and thought out, making sure that with every fleeting second you could feel how deeply she cared for you. this kiss in particular was two weeks in the making, the blonde pouring into it every inch of her adoration for you with each slight adjustment and touch, her other hand resting on your waist to draw your body even closer into hers, trapping the two of you in a cocoon of warmth and love and safety.

"welcome home." she pulled away with a light smack, pressing a few softer kisses to your swollen lips before pressing her forehead against yours, closing her eyes and hugging you tightly, anchoring you in her arms like a lost ship coming ashore.

the sea of your relationship wouldn't always be smooth, but with leah at the helm and you loyal by her side the two of you could get through pretty much anything.

"it's two now baby. do you want to sleep for a few hours and then up for dinner? and we can stay up till around maybe ten to try and reset your schedule?" your girlfriend offered sweetly, warm lips pressing against the crown of your temple with each word.

"so long as you're with me i don't mind." you sighed, head falling to her chest as you squeezed her tightly, melting the older girls heart who hugged you back just as firmly.

"well you can't sleep standing up." with that she'd bent down to grab the back of your thighs, hoisting you up. "bed or lounge baby?" the defender asked with a raised eyebrow. "not the first time you've asked me that while i'm off the ground in your arms." you smirked, kissing her nose and grinning as she scrunched it slightly.

"even half asleep with jet lag you remain a cheeky cheeky girl." leah tutted with a shake of her head and carrying you with her over to the sofa, turning around and sitting down as she pulled you to sit between her legs which stretched down its length.

"can you put the golf on please?" you mumbled tiredly, shuffling so your head was resting on leah's chest, hearing her heartbeat beneath your ear as leah smiled happily in surprise at your request. "really?"

"yeah, always sends me to sleep." you continued, closing your eyes as leah rolled hers, carding a hand through your hair but doing as you asked, nails scratching at your scalp and the english captain chuckled seeing within a few short minutes you'd fallen right back to sleep.

desite the fact she actually enjoyed watching the golf much to your horror, a few holes in, she was ashamed to admit she joined you, eyes drifting closed.

[azumasoroshi]

happy 12/24-25! i think too often about the “gege hates gojo” jokes because holy shit it is PERSONAL with gege

like yeah he sealed him and killed him but like. every aspect of gojo’s character is just so. gege really said “i’m going to make you the strongest character in the history of ever and you’re going to be cool and attractive and funny and your fans will love you, BUT:

The entire point of your character is that no matter how much power you have, you are helpless to save the people you truly care about

You’re so powerful that the only way you can narratively exist without destroying every enemy in jjk other than Sukuna is to get snatched away, sealed, get your powers taken away, or die (even in the fucking video game you only get a certain number of turns to act before you get yoinked)

You can never escape the system you were born into because your power has become your character

You’ll think you’re changing the system for the better but end up perpetuating the system anyway in allowing children to go on dangerous missions

You cannot supervise said children on dangerous missions because you’re running around Japan like a headless chicken at the whims of the higher ups

You never got the chance to fully grow up because a part of you died when Toji killed you and a part of you died when Suguru left you and what else is there left

Your own desire for power blinded you to your best friend’s depression and it’s one of your greatest regrets yet a part of you still thinks Suguru wasn’t strong enough to keep up which is why you keep saying you want strong allies who can keep up with you and you are just terribly equipped to handle your students’ emotional challenges and insecurities even though you try your best

You will never make any emotional connections as lovely as the one from your youth which you still cry about on the rare occasions you actually sleep

You will only be able to tell Suguru you love him right before you KILL HIM

No matter whether Suguru was your best friend, ex-boyfriend, crush that you never confessed to, or boy you only realized you were in love with after he left you, you will NEVER be able to get over him and an evil brain will use this against you and several people you care about will get fucked over because you cared too much

Even though your students/coworkers sometimes like you the first thing 99% of them think of when they think of you is “The Strongest” and even in your breakup arc Suguru, the one person you wanted to stand by your side and share the title, began to think of you in that way as well and distanced himself from you because of it.

The narrative requires that you be lonely at the top as a direct consequence of your power - even metaphorically, infinity separates you from the rest of the world and your wide range of destruction makes it so allies are a hindrance in battle and you could destroy the people you dare about in seconds (see: thank fuck todo stopped yuuji from stepping into range of purple)

You are going to fight the boy you may or may not have raised from childhood because of the other boy with Sukuna inside him that he asked you to save and you can’t hesitate because the last time you hesitated about someone you cared about you got sealed and people died

You may or may not have died to the strongest curse of all time and are left forever unsatisfied even in death because not only was your culty/cunty best friend not there to cheer you on, but you think Sukuna couldn’t even go all out against you, the strongest sorcerer of your time, despite strength being your whole thing

and as a bonus, you also “died” after cockily saying “Nah I’d win” which will get extensively memed on the internet at your expense”

like not to woobify gojo or anything but oh my god jesus fucking christ gege

he was like “ill make you hot as a treat mostly for myself because i like drawing hot men but you’re going to be so incredibly fucking doomed by the narrative in every possible way”

like he loves drawing shirtless men but he never drew gojo shirtless like gege!! GEGE!!!! what did he DO to deserve this level of narrative ire omfg

[hatsukeii]

Today, I’m thinking about… haikyuu + other anime characters that would end up in this situation…

warning(s): none!! this is pure crack and you can interpret it as friendship or a relationship but just don’t do ANYTHING that happens in this fic because my friend almost shat himself afterwards…

“Dude, don’t fuck with me, I’ll literally fly your ass to Brazil and fight you if you win another round.”

You cackle at his empty threat, the ‘one card left’ message on your side souring his glare at every passing second that it stays on the shared screen. Scared to wake the rest of your household, you slap a hand over your mouth, the laughs threatening to burst from your chest. It’s been two hours of playing UNO online, and he hasn’t been able to win a single round since twelve. Frankly, it’s getting a little embarrassing for him, but you aren’t one to back down from a threat.

“Is that a challenge? Let’s fuckin’ go then, what are you waiting for? Put the next card down and see, bitch.”

He gasps through the screen, a hand flying to his chest as he searches for some sort of witty retort, or some form of instant retaliation. Instead, his mouse clicks through the call, frantically picking his +4 colour changer. He’s going to win this time, he’s certain of it. He’s going to watch you pick up four useless number cards, and throw his final card down before you even have the chance to come back-

“GET SHIT ON!”

You slam your final +4 onto the game, eight new cards slotting themselves into his deck as the gold medal and confetti of UNO victory explodes on screen. You pump your fists in his face, and he slams his hands onto his head, dumbfounded.

“Is that even allowed? What the fuck!”

“Uh, doesn’t matter? Because the system says I won! You’re dogshit!”

He turns in his chair, spinning round and round and round blankly as he drowns in his utter loss of dignity and ego. How can he possibly win against you, when all he gets are useless numbers to start with, and you somehow happen to score every single power card possible?

“What, you gonna fight me now? In Brazil?” You taunt, and his screen goes white as the google search engine pops up. His fingers hammer at his keyboard at an impossible speed, scouring the Internet for the quickest flight to Brazil. He’ll just scare you into thinking he was serious for a bit, just to see the panic that he has endured in the final moments of every single UNO round plastered on your face.

“There’s no way you’re actually doing this right now.”

He clicks onto the next flight to Rio, Brazil, highlighting the details as if forcing you to remember them for later. Drawing circles with his cursor furiously, he reaches down for his duffel bag, pretending to shove necessities into it. A singular t-shirt goes in, then his hoodie, all while the cursor sits dangerously close to the purchase button beneath his presaved credit card details, already filled out in each field.

"The next flight we can feasibly catch is 8am tomorrow. I'm coming over right now to pick your ass up, and we're gonna fucking fight in front of Christ the fucking Redeemer in Rio, me and you."

He reaches for his bottle, his arm stretching across the screen for the hunk of metal. As his fingers grab at it, he misses, and the entire bottle topples onto his mouse.

Click.

"Thank you for your purchase. Your flight number is: RJ3992. Please scan the code below at check-in."

The laughs that have been pushed under your throat all erupt at once as you hold your stomach and fall backwards, tears spilling from your eyes. He stares at the purchase confirmation, eyes peeled open and mouth ajar as $3000 worth of money vanishes into thin air. He did not intend to fight you in Brazil, but he might actually have to now. Should he call his bank? Call the airlines? His questions are answered as his phone rings beside him. From the other side of the call, you hear his murmurs as he comes clear to the banker on the line.

"No...not sure how it happened...just saw the confirmation...refund it now?"

You stifle your laughter, resisting the urge to punch your table in shock as he bargains with the banker to refund the ticket he just bought to Rio de Janeiro at two in the morning. Finally, he rips the phone away from his ear, letting out a sigh of relief. You cackle, pointing at him in a fit of hysteria, and he scowls at you, giving you the nastiest side eye he can conjure up. Not only has he lost every single round of UNO tonight, he's also come close to putting his credit in the negatives. It's time to call it quits.

"Still wanna fight me, huh? Another round?"

"Don't fucking try me, or I'll call them for the ticket back."

Characters: Tanaka Ryunosuke, Nishinoya Yuu, Kuroo Tetsurou, Lev Haiba, Kentaro Kyotani, Terushima Yuji, Bokuto Koutaro, Tendou Satori, Suguru Daisho, Miya Atsumu, Hoshiumi Kourai, Bakugou Katsuki, Neito Monoma, Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu, Yo Shindo, Touya Todoroki, Aoi Todo, Gojo Satoru, Denji, Power + all your faves<3

author's note:

i can't make this shit up this actually happened to me once because the guy i was playing uno with kept losing and got upset and threatened to fight us all in brazil and then accidentally bought a 3000 dollar plane ticket to rio um???? bro had to call up the airline to cancel and then his bank had to call him at 3am to ask why he was suddenly withdrawing so much money i was about to piss myself laughing ngl

also IM FINISHED WITH FINALS!!! WOOOO!! CONFETTI!!!!

anyways tags!!

@starlysama @chuuya-brainrot @fiannee @bailey-reeds

ok love u guys see u soon bye bye

[ninjamelissajulien]

I'm gonna rant about Zane for a moment so bear with me

Zane's Motif is Humanity and Betrayal.

From his first conversations with the group, to his chapter book, to Night of the Nindroids, to Tournament of Elements, to SOG/Hunted/MOTO, to the Ice Emperor, to Crystalized, and now Dragons Rising- there is a repetition of Zane not being human. 'He's not like us'. 'He's weird... no, he's weird weird.'

Going into the Pilot Era (Season 0 through S1E6 The Snake King), Zane was always different in how he spoke, acted, and almost existed. Part of this is the brilliant voice acting by Brent Miller- he/Zane speaks very eloquently, a bit monotone but still full of emotion. "Yes. It was a joke. Ha, ha." "The Golden Weapons have left this realm and are now in the Underworld. The end is drawing near." Zane is blunt in how he speaks, yet internally he's in pain. He doesn't know where he comes from, where his family is, or who is family is. One of my favorite lines is from the early chapter books, Kai: Ninja of Fire. "I envy you." "No, I envy the fact that you know they're gone." Zane, at this point, is orphaned with no memory of his family. Kai decides to drop everything to help Zane find his old village and look for any sign of his past (fun fact: Zane and Kai are drugged in his book, I'm dead serious). Although, they do not find anything to help Zane and his past, it allows the pair to bond and grow closer.

In Zane's own chapter book, he is tempted by Garmadon for information about his past. If he gives up the Golden Weapons (and betrays his friends), Garmadon would tell him about his family and their whereabouts. This is the first of numerous instances of someone in power tempted Zane with something he desires, but to achieve it he would have to betray his friends. Zane is tempted. He misses the idea of what his family could be, the false idea of where he came from. Zane, of course, doesn't fall for it, but it's a lingering wonder of is Garmadon telling the truth? Did he really know who Zane's family was? Were they still alive, looking for him?

My favorite graphic novel, (other than the first volume, The Challenge of Samukai), is Night of the Nindroids. This book, taking place between the Art of the Silent Fist and Blackout, focuses on Zane and his feeling of isolation. Yes, he's a ninja, but he's a nindroid. Is he truly on the right team, or should he be with his own kind? In NITN, Zane is separated from the team and brought to the Overlord (Garmadon calls him a "toaster with attitude").

"What are you afraid of? Or can a collection of nuts and bolts even feel fear? No, you can't. Not fear, not hate, not even love, just imitations of those feelings. You are a robot. But I have the power to make you more! Defeat the other ninja for me, and I will transfer your mind into one of their bodies! I will make you human!" the Overlord to Zane.

On a side note: Night of the Nindroids is an incredibly fucked up concept. Zane would get to choose who's body he would take over, inevitably killing the original person. He chooses Kai, meaning (if) he went through with it, he would be living in Kai's body while Kai himself is dead. :)

Back to the point. Zane is tempted with the idea of becoming human. Of feeling emotions, of being able to get hurt, of "feeling the sun on your skin", of being normal. And, he does agree to work with the Overlord (as mentioned previously, choosing Kai's body to inhabit). He, single-handedly, takes down Cole, Jay, and Kai. Zane, though, doesn't want Lloyd anywhere near the events so he sends him away to bond with Sensei Garmadon, but he also sends Nya on a mission. He knows that Nya is intelligent and needs her out of the way for everything to succeed. Even the cover itself shows Zane's separation from the team; while Kai/Jay/Cole are caught, Zane is in front with his internal systems being revealed. He's even in his damaged appearance, showing the mechanics under his false skin. I won't spoil it, because it is a fantastic graphic novel, but it shows that Zane by himself is incredibly strong and powerful.

Tournament of Elements is the death of Human!Zane and the introduction of Titanium!Zane. In his previous appearance, he was able to pass as a human, unless he was drastically injured, but now, in his titanium form, it's even more obvious that he's different. He has PTSD and panic attacks from his encounter with Death. Zane, at this point in time, is the only one who's died and come back, further separating him from being human. But, I feel like, this could aid in his desire for humanity. He knows how precious life is, he knows how easily things can go from bad to impossible. His whole reasoning for living is "to protect those who cannot protect themselves"- from an outside perspective, it's a way for him to be a hero. But, on a deeper level, its almost a suicidal way of seeing things. He was built to face the danger so others wouldn't. Now, that's just my perspective on that.

The Oni Trilogy brings in Zane's cloaking. A way for him to be human again, while still being himself. He's able to switch between blending into the crowd in plain sight versus being himself. Though this does not change how he acts, it allows him a cover especially for when he needs to be hidden (Snake Jaguar).

Now. The Ice Emperor. Arguably the opposition to Zane himself. The Ice Emperor is what could've happened if someone found pre-pilot Zane and used him for their own selfish desires. Both start out as someone with no memories, no compass, just a lost child. Zane, pre-pilot, finds the village he later lives in and allows himself to be aided. Here, he is given things to do and ways to help others before being given the chance, by Wu, to find and better himself. The Ice Emperor is turned into a weapon. He's not allowed to think for himself, every decision is made and manipulated by Vex. The dialogue between IE and Vex is repetitious. The Ice Emperor is stripped of his humanity, betraying himself in the process. His powers are used to cause pain and suffering, killing Krag's family, freezing the Formlings, and causing a realm-wide ice age.

Even how the Ice Emperor sits on his throne shows how captive he is to Vex. Every time that IE moves from the throne, he has to shatter the layer of ice that forms over his arms/body. He's constantly asleep/powered down, possibly due to the amount of energy the Staff is demanding (especially for holding it for so many decades).

Crystalized is the closest Zane gets to voluntarily losing his humanity. the Ice Emperor was forcefully stripped from him, but Crystalized has him choose to lock his emotions away. He doesn't know how to deal with the grief of losing Nya. Even being with Pixal and Cole can't get him out of his depressive funk. It takes an outside perspective of allowing emotions out for him to see that its okay to be emotional, that being emotional is being human.

[dark-fics-4-you]

Drabble Idea: Rafe being a sorry little bitch after getting high and being abusive to reader. Something like he comes into the room and he asks something along the lines of “Are you mad at me? I said I was sorry, I didn’t mean to” and reader is just shook still. Then maybe dubious consent f oral receiving?

Heartless

Warnings: dubcon/noncon, abusive relationship, domestic violence, manipulation, toxic relationship, oral f!recieving

You slammed the door behind you, blinking hot tears out of your eyes. Taking a shaky breath, you walked over to your vanity, drawing your hand close to the cut on your forehead. You touched it delicately, replaying the scene in your head repeatedly like that would help it make sense.

Expectedly, the genuinely concerned conversation you had tried to have about your boyfriend’s drug problems had transformed into a heated argument.

“You can’t control every aspect of my life, Y/N,” Rafe spat at you, anger flashing in his eyes, no doubt further fueled by the coke in his system.

“I’m not trying to control your life Rafe! I’m just trying to make sure you have a life to live! That you don’t throw everything away for some nose candy!” You threw your hands up, exasperated and tired.

This conversation was long overdue, and you had tried putting it off as long as possible, giving him the benefit of the doubt until it was impossible to ignore. He had a problem.

“You don’t understand what it’s like, Y/N-!” Rafe snapped at you. His face was growing red, one of the veins in his neck starting to pop out.

“Oh I don’t understand? You think I don’t have issues I wish I could just block out with drugs? You think that just because you get into fights with your dad that you’re entitled to be a coked out zombie 24/7?” You knew it was a fucked up thing to say, but you really didn’t expect his reaction at all.

Large hands grabbed and pushed at you and before you could register what was happening, you felt your forehead smack against the corner of the dining table, body crumpling beneath you as you fell to the floor.

You looked up at your boyfriend in shock, and he probably looked even more shocked than you did. You pressed your hand to your head, surprised when you felt a wet warmth at your hairline. You pulled your hand away and you realized why the look on Rafe’s face was so scared.

Crimson stained your fingertips.

“Y/N, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to do that.” His voice was shaking, frantic, and when he reached down to you, you flinched away.

You looked up at your boyfriend through teary eyes, terrified, before you got up and ran into your shared room.

You pressed the warm washcloth to your head, sniffling as you dabbed the blood away.

A sound from behind you caught your attention, and you looked in the mirror to see Rafe, head hung and an apologetic look in his eyes.

“… Are you mad at me, Y/N?” He quietly asked, voice barely reaching your ears.

You felt a pang in your heart at his regretful tone.

“No,” you choked out meekly. It was true, you weren’t mad at him. You were terrified of him.

“I really didn’t mean to, it’s just- just sometimes i get so angry. And I feel like when you aren’t listening to me, it just pisses me off even more, you know?”

You didn’t know, but you nodded your head, a few tears falling past your lashes as you stared past him.

“Let me make it up to you, Y/N.” Rafe cooed, drawing closer to you, pressing against your back and wrapping one arm around your waist as the other hard found your neck, not squeezing, just resting there to put you on edge.

“Rafe, I really am not in the mood right now-” you gasped when his hand moved to roughly squeeze your breast, fingers teasing your nipples over your shirt and bra.

“Are you sure you’re not in the mood?” He challenged, walking you forward towards the mirror.

“Yes, I’m serious Rafe,” you begged, “Cut it out!” You turned to face him, but he caged you in against the bathroom counter, hands finding your hips and lifting you to sit on the counter before pulling at your shorts.

He kneeled before you as he pulled your shorts down, holding your legs when you tried to kick at him.

You gasped when he buried his face between your legs, licking and sucking at the tender flesh. Your fingers gripped the sides of the countertop, legs shaking when he pushed a finger in and began to curl it inside you. You couldn’t stop the moan that escaped your lips when he pressed a second finger into you.

“You know, it’s really hard for you to convince me that you’re that mad at me when I can turn you into such a pathetic mess so easily, princess.”

[warsamongthestars]

One of the most interesting things about TCWs Rex's character arc struggles is that, he's constantly put into contrasts.

Rex, as we know him, stands to be the main representation of a Clone Trooper. He's the first major named CT Character, that isn't Commander Cody, who doesn't have any ties to the films (Unlike Commander Cody), and thus can act and be written with far more freedom to explore.

[ You can't write Commander Cody too much by the end of the day, because one, years of expectations weigh, and two, he still has to shoot Kenobi at the end of everything. ]

Rex has two major conflicts in his arc, that represent the three defining points of clone troopers:

Loyalty to their Brothers

Loyalty to the System

Loyalty to themselves

Let's have some examples.

Our first major touch up with this, is the exact Opposite of all three: Sergeant Slick.

He is not loyal to his brothers (And gets a lot of them killed, whilst blaming the Jedi), he is not loyal to the system (He's a traitor), and he's not loyal to himself (He will make a lot of claims... which are unsubstantiated, because he gets a lot of people killed for purposes of greed and perceived slights).

This one is your easy Villain. Its easy to see, via Slick, that Loyalty to Brothers, Systems and Self is very simple.

But TCWs takes it a step further into complication.

Cut Lawquane, a deserter, is not loyal to the system (because it certainly isn't loyal to him), is loyal to himself, but is neutral when comes to brotherly loyalty.

( I say neutral, because he was willing to slay Rex if it meant staying free and his family safe. He did stop, because he's true to himself, and the self he wants to be isn't someone who kills people... Its just that sometimes, what is wanted, and what it is needed, isn't always the same thing. )

This is the first major bang up to Rex's Character Arc, because now we have a decent enough brother who is absolutely Not Loyal To the System that Rex is. And eventually, Rex lets him go, showing that while Rex is Lawful Good--he leans more towards good, whilst still retaining lawful plausibility.

This step slapped Rex, but it was a surprise he could easily, just simply, file away and not think about too hard. Deserting is going to happen when you're in an army of millions, and if they're off to be farmers instead of soldiers, well that's okay and a very nice thought.

The real kicker was Umbara.

One could argue that the Lola Sayu Mission should've hit Rex, but instead of Rex, it hit Fives the hardest (And with good reason). It's probably why there was an implication of a fallout between Lola Sayu and Umbara ("Just like Old times, Rex.")

And Fives becomes a contrasting challenge:

Loyal to Self

Loyal To Brothers

Neutral to Disloyal to System

Fives would bend the system until it breaks if it meant saving his brothers and more. He's the Chaotic Good to Rex's Lawful Good.

Rex is painfully upright and loyal to the system, so when one of his best and closest brothers decides "fuck this", it shakes him up.

Especially when Rex is finally confronted with how rotten the System gets: by General Pong Krell.

To contrast the contrast, on other side of Rex is Dogma, who is Fives' opposite. The Lawful Neutral.

Loyal to the System above all Else.

Neutral to Disloyal to Brothers.

( It does not help that Anakin Skywalker only recognizes Lawful as being Obedient rather than "adherence and or comfort to a code or set of rules" and thus draws more parallels between Rex and Dogma, than Rex and Fives. )

The Umbara Arc throws Rex through the whole loop, with all its conflicts. Especially the challenges it would make to Rex's whole character and showing him how far things can go.

Until finally, Rex finding what lines to draw in the dirt when it comes to "Loyalty to the End".

... But not enough to save anyone.

Then comes the Conspiracy arc, and while we don't know Rex's side, we do have implication of the aftermath.

The coverup of Fives' death (Because it would've had to been), by brother no less (Another big thing), and with the chip arc, which Rex did look into--would've put Rex up against someone he could not and would not possibly be capable of working through or against: Anakin Skywalker.

( Obviously for narrative purposes, Skywalker can't be stopped less TCWs became an AU instead )

Rex finds that his closest and brightest was labeled traitor and terrorist for his attack on the chancellor, via the very same bulletin points that Rex's character lives by, and it would immediately put him up against Skywalker.

The reason being, is that Skywalker is close to the Chancellor, and likely told Rex to drop any investigation.

And through speculation based on aftermath episodes... and What we know by this point...

I bet that Rex did not want to lump Anakin with Krell as a "System Problem". Because Rex worked with Anakin, and Rex's character falls in line with Anakin, and to consider Anakin to be part of the problem would go against Rex's character--thus, it is "unthinkable" and much easier to simply... Believe that Anakin has the best intentions.

( Even if that came at the cost of Fives. )

( Even though it would come at the cost of the 501st in the future--Rex only did enough that it would save his Life, and Ahsoka's, but nobody else's. He pays dearly for that comfort in Anakin at the cost of Fives, and the cost of Everyone. )

Moving to S7... and the Bad Batch.

Rex comes up against his absolute Opposite once more--in Sergeant Hunter, and the various Bad Batchers.

We've hit full circle.

Hunter commands a small squad that he pretty much lets do whatever, whilst Rex hangs on commands and commanding. Hunter is Evasive, Rex is Honest; Hunter gets stressed by Command, Rex does not.

Hunter is endlessly snarky, whilst Rex is straightforward. Hunter loses his faith midway through Mission, and Rex does not. Hunter's appearance is against all regulations, whilst Rex is clean shaven.

Hunter wasn't made for command, he just wasn't the stronger personality in the Batch to cause problems, whilst Rex is trained and made to command.

The one thing they do have in common, is loyalty to brothers, and the difference is--Rex doesn't hang on to anyone in lieu of the bigger picture, but Hunter does, existing in the smaller pictures.

( That's the TCWs implication-- If I went into the TBBshow, Hunter would not be coming out nearly as good. )

With the other batchers, Rex comes up against each one being individually against an aspect of his character.

Tech is disloyal to the system, he's as far from any sort of clone soldier you can get, and he's not even dressed for it. Tech comes in as a research first.

Wrecker is disloyal to self, bolstering about his skills and making light of the situation before it crashes on him. His disloyalty isn't a case of selling out--its a case of simply not considering himself in any measure. He puts others above him.

Crosshair is disloyal to brothers. He makes it a point to start shit in the middle of a mission, question authority, making disparaging remarks, and attacking a sense of self. The difference here is that, instead of accumulating falsehoods (like Slick), or physically attacking--he attacks the comforting falsehoods that a clone trooper would take on out of loyalty to brothers, system and self. If you're a brother, why don't you act it. If you cared so much for this one guy, why did you leave him behind. If you were that good in your little system, why did the specialists get called in. ( Crosshair is also a dick, but one can understand why he does things. )

Each Bad Batcher serves as a challenge to Rex's character. They are as far from Lawful as possible--but they are Good.

And then there was Echo.

But Echo doesn't serve as a challenge to Rex's character. If anything, Echo might serve as the "reward" for Rex's character arc. He saved at least one Brother, and one of his closest.

...

Unfortunately, Rex's full character arc wasn't ever really fully realized, because he is, fundamentally, a satellite character for other characters to bounce off of, even if those characters are other Clone Troopers.

( hell, Rex serves to contrast Cody, and neither of those too really had full Arcs )

Its why Fives took more attention in Umbara than Rex. Its why Ahsoka gets off scott free at the end of the day but Rex doesn't.

Its why when certain points of Jedi pop up, particularly that even our main character Jedi aren't really all that Lawful Good and do fuck up and waste a lot of brothers' lives for it, that Rex does not intervene.

Because, his character was never given that development to step in and tell someone to "Hey, stop, you are going to get people Killed."

A full Arc would've allowed that, and he wasn't afforded one.

A post TCWs Arc for Rex to get that Development, to fully understand all he went through and implement it into a new character arc, was implied with Rebel's Rex... but is currently unfulfilled.

( Don't be shocked that I don't consider TBBshow to count. )

But there ya go, a nice sum Analysis on Rex.

[ladylaviniya]

Spirit of Christmas Past

Masterlist || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: You are greeted by the Spirit of Christmas and he decides to confront your past and punish your stubborn behaviour.

Pairing: Chris Evans x f!reader

Chapter Warnings: 18+ Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Dubious Consent, Manipulation, Dead Parents Description, Verbal Abuse, P in V sex, Rough Sex, Choking, Fingering, Humiliation, Heart Break, Ghosts, Swearing, Alcoholic Use, Classism.

Word Count: 9k

A/N: Please to all readers, understand I don't have a beta editor and I can miss some mistakes because most my typing is on the bus to work when I get the time to write. ALSO this is my attempt at the naughty or nice challenge using: 18. “If you didn’t want this, you’d behave.” @the-slumberparty an event challenge created by @navybrat817 & @darkficsyouneveraskedfor

12:59am 25th December 2023, New York City.

Among the nothingness of sleep, you could hear in the distance the sound of little bells jingling. You groaned, cracking your eyes open slowly. The sound was becoming more persistent and volumed.

It was freezing! The management still hadn’t fixed the heating system. You shivered and dug deeper into the duvet layers of your bed. You reached for your phone to check the time.

“Merry fucking Christmas,” you grumbled before rolling over onto your back. All memory of Marlene’s visit had disappeared from your mind.

You stared up at the plain ceiling. Your eyes grew hazy while your mind dissociated into thought. A single tear rolled from your eye.

God, you hated Christmas so much. You tried ignoring all the years. You tried pushing back the pain. You tried thinking about your jobs and tasks still incomplete. You tried not to think about how lonely you were, how unfulfilled you felt deep down. A mean tug at your chest made you hiss.

The ceilings image morphed into spots and shapes of different kinds...and when you chose to focus your eyes you could see the flecks of shadow clashing with light, wrapping and drawing out the shape of a person walking towards you.

You leant back and felt the mattress still under you. What you were seeing had to be part of some strange dream. You concluded you’d fallen back to sleep.

Gravity didn’t apply in this scenery.

The ceiling opened up, glowing in a soft calming light. The figure kept walking it’s way towards you. The closer he got the more you could acknowledge his face and good looks. He was lean and clean shaven, a depiction of youth. His hair was the colour of dark roasted chestnuts. He wore a white sweater.

‘Woah, what a weird dream...but look at how handsome he is.’

As if he heard your thoughts loud and clear he smiled with sparkling white teeth. Still unsure of reality, you lifted your hand up high to the ceiling. He did the same. He reached out with his palm out.

Your finger tips touched and you gasped at how warm and inviting he felt. Your mind ran filthy. You bit your bottom lip before lurching off the bed to the ceilings opening window into the handsome man’s arms. You swore you knew him. Something about that smile. You couldn’t place it though. Butterflies filled your insides.

His eyes were a blue that matched mountains. His cheeks sharp and strong but that smile was ageless.

You shyly bit the tip of your finger and giggled, “Kiss me.”

He cupped your face and accepted your advance without hesitation. His lips leant forward and met your starved mouth.

He was slow, sweet like vanilla. He pulled away and nibbled at your lips, sucking and licking with you. He was perfect. You were the first to pull away, panting and mewling. Your body rubbed up against his again. One of his arms cupped your back while his other hand cupped your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

You felt his muscles, his hot body. His arms tightly held you, protecting you from the world and claiming you as his.

In your head this all made sense. Deep down you had met before, but where...God where had you met him? It ached not knowing fully.

Pulling away you moaned, “Fuck me. Please.”

You took his ginormous hands and pressed them against your breasts. Only a thin piece of satin separated your skin to his skin. You knew he’d be able to feel your nipples pebbling under his palms.

You kissed and nibbled along his jaw, panting, “I’m not wearing anything underneath.” And that was true. You underwear had gone missing after you had played with your toy while imagining a rape play scene. You looked up at him with doe eyes fluttering. Your fingers pinched the hem of your night gown. He smirked, his fingers danced up your thighs, and by your surprise....he forced your hem down.

His eyes burned bright blue, almost glowing as the world around you both faded black. His head shook lightly at you, his wet lips parted, and he whispered into the open air, “Be not afraid Y/N as I shine the light on your past.”

Your head jerked back, your eyes squinted, ‘What the fuck?’

The question filled your mind and escaped through your lips, “Who are you?”

The handsome stranger rubbed his thumbs into your palms and said with heralding tones, “I am he who sees past, present and future tidings upon the grandeur of Christmas day. I am The Spirit of Christmas. But you…may call me Chris.”

“Chris?” You blinked and rebuffed in an fit of laughter. You shook your head, disbelieving and feeling that heat of anger rise.

“The Spirit of Christmas,” you cackled, “I really did have too much to drink to be having weird dreams like this. You kiss me and tell me that you’re some mystic being?”

His lips flicked up, bemused, “You asked for that kiss, I merely obliged such a sweet request.”

Humiliation bloomed in the pit of your belly. You felt hot in the face and grit your teeth.

His thumbs ran over the pulse of your wrists, his eyes were crowned in a false innocence.

Your eyes glowered in seconds, “Go fuck yourself, Chris,” you fumed.

You shoved his hands away and turned around trying to imagine something else, hoping the dream would change or you would wake up. You stumped short and jumped back as your path was blocked by a horrific sight. A naked woman in the darkness, chained and kneeling at your feet. Marlene.

The memories flood back into your mind. Her ethereal form floating your bed with her frozen heart and warning words. Except she was no ghost in this form. She was hauntingly thin like a skeleton, the loos skin of her belly and breasts hung down, her skin was discoloured and sickly, her cheeks hallowed and her hair thin, balding. Her teeth were black, gums rotten, her chest made this awful whistling noise as she struggled to breath. Her finger nails were red and cracked. She was chained to the floor. She looked up at you with sad bloodshot eyes, shaking her head at you.

“Go with him Y/N, he is your last chance…” she shivered as if a cold wind had prickled her flesh. Her head hung low.

His heavy hand laid down bearing weight onto your shoulder. You gasped and looked back at him with fear. His face appeared mournful as he acknowledged Marlenes decrypted state. Those blue eyes you were enchanted by moments ago sent an icy chill down your spine as his attention turned to you.

“Come,” he softly beckoned, “Let this soul pay it’s penance…”

You licked your dry lips and tried to keep your cool without revealing your fear. You nodded, not chancing your voice breaking in an exchange. His palm held back out to you. You glared at him. With defeat and the tiniest tremble in your fingers, you finally tucked your hand into his, feeling his warm fingers wrap around you, you had to admit, it felt nice. He squeezed it softly and walked, guiding you away from the living corpse of Marlene’s soul.

After some time of walking away until Marlenes image disappeared.

The shadows felt literally heavy, weigh you down in what felt like a fight against gravity. You recalled a time you trudged through the snow up to your waist. It felt like this, yet there was only silence.

His hand was still wrapped around yours, tugging you forward mercilessly.

You felt like you could have tripped in the black abyss.

“Sp-spirit?” you finally dared to ask, “Spirit…where are you taking me?”

And then he stopped. You could hear his sigh and felt the air around you grow colder. This sexy dream had quickly turned into a foreboding nightmare. A flame of light flickered in the palm of his other hand, it was like supernatural magic.

He pulled you in closer and his other hand came around and slapped your backside.

You shrieked and tried shoving him back, “Ow! What the hell! That hurt!”

He chortled, “Yes, the past can hurt, especially yours,” his finger scratched under your chin, “But it can also heal if you learn from it.”

The floor beneath your feet disappeared and you both plummeted into the darkness again. You screamed as your belly lifted up into your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut and felt the spirit hug you tighter, your fingers desperately squeezed the wool of his sweater.

And then the falling stopped, and your screaming died down into violent pants. He still held you and then placed you softly down onto the ground below your feet.

His smile was gentle, “Here we are.”

05:00pm Christmas Eve, 1999, Texas, Austin.

Finally, you dared to open your eyes. Your hands were still clawed into his thick sweater when you looked around at your surroundings. It was a living room inside a trailer home. Red tinsel had been taped to walls. A small Christmas tree stood in the corner between the space of a couch and a basinet. Poorly drawn pictures of baubles, stars, Santa and elves had been scattered over the floor.

‘Ugh.’ Christmas decorations…but no, hold on…you knew this place.

And a soft hum of Jingle Bells filled your ears. You gasped. You knew who it belonged to in an instant. You let go of the Spirit and looked behind you.

A woman in the kitchen was opening a packet of biscuits, placing each one on a plastic plate. She was younger than you while sharing a likeness in appearance. The home smelt like gingerbread while she began to pour a cup of milk. She placed the cup on the small coffee table, sighing as she ran her palm over the swell of her protruding belly under her dress.

“M-mom?” you said shakily, “Mom is that…oh god mom! I missed you so much.”

You raced forward with your arms spread wide, seeking to hug her. As you closed your arms around her, you stumbled and fell hard to the floor onto your knees.

“Fuck!” you hissed and heard the mocking snicker come from the Spirit.

You twisted your body and sat back on your hands. You looked up and back at your mother, confused and dazed. Her feet were not on top of you, standing on you, but rather, she was standing inside and walking through you. You jumped in fright and crawled backwards, watching how she walked through you transparently.

“M-mom?” you whimpered, scared and confused. When she didn’t answer your voice filled with panic, “Mom!”

The Spirit, holding his hands behind his back chuckled, looking between you both.

You shouted, “What the hell is wrong with her!?”

His laughter pulled back and he hummed with a smile, “There’s nothing wrong, she can’t see you or hear you. These are but shadows of things that have been. They have no consciousness of us.”

She totally ignored you as she lowered herself onto the couch.

The Spirit held his hand out to you to help you up from the floor. You slapped it away and used the wall for stability. He didn’t appear offended or surprised by your viperous habits. You shoved past him and fell to your knees in front of her.

“Mom?” you said a little more gently.

You reached out to touch her shoulder. Your fingers went straight through her. Your eyes watered. She looked up from her belly and her lips spread into her perfect smile. Her eyes glittered, “Honey, can you please grab the cookies for Santa?”

Your face lit up and you nodded desperately, scooting back off your knees to fetch the cookies from the small kitchenette, but before you could step forward, you heard the tiny squeak of a child, “Okay, mommy!”

And from the corner of your eye you saw her... next to the tree was a little girl in a plaid dress and pig tails with plaid scrunchies, laying on her belly, kicking her feet back in forth with a crayon in her little chubby hand scribbling a poor drawing of a reindeer. It looked more like a cow with antlers.

“Is that…”

The little girl crawled to her feet and skipped to the kitchen, she looked so small compared to the plate she carried back to the living room and placed it onto the coffee table proudly put the beside the milk.

You stood up and took a small step back. You bumped into the Spirits chest, “Is that me?”

He laid his hand on your lower back. He watched you watching your much younger self.

He hummed, “Yes, you were seven years old here I believe.”

‘Yes, just before Caroline was born.”

Your mom leant forward and grabbed the little girl by the waist, tugging her back and peppered kisses all over her small giggling face while her fingers tickled her sides until she begged her to stop.

“Love you my little troublemaker,” she whispered against the tiny cheek.

“I love you too mommy,” you and your younger self said in sync. This, the Spirit noted with a calm expression. He walked around the room. The smaller girl version of yourself ran through him as he perched himself on the arm of couch and cocked his head at the drawings scattered along the floor.

“You had talent, you know?” he mused.

A slam of the front door made you jump. Your father with a big welcoming grin came home shortly after. The little girl cheered excitedly, running off to show him the drawing she drew for him. He picked her up and threw her in the air before catching her again despite the disapproving look your mother gave him.

“Daddy! Daddy! Look!” the little girl said giving him the picture, “Merry Christmas!”

He laughed with pure mirth and delight, his eyes squinted at the image, and he nodded.

You smirked; he had no fucking clue what the kid version of you had drawn.

“It’s beautiful babygirl, it’s ah…ah…”

He glanced over at your mother who mouthed the word back, “Reindeer.”

His eyes widened and his voice lilted, “A reindeer! Just for me!? Thankyou sweetheart,” he kissed her cheek, “I can’t wait to show all my friends this at work.”

He placed her safely down on the floor and walked over to your mother before sitting on the couch beside her. He put the picture on the coffee table and leant in to kiss his wife. Child you turned away and stuck out her tongue, in total disgust because ‘boys kissing girls was gross!’

“And how’s mommy been?” your father purred, laying a hand on her belly, his thumb lazily rubbed back and forth.

“Tired,” she groaned, “Little peanut is coming any day now. I can feel her kicking my rib cage, I think she’s planning her escape and wants to rocket out,” she breathed hard, her hand softly laced into her, holding it over the spot where your baby sister was kicking her feet.

You chewed your bottom lip and glanced at the Christmas Spirit who was grinning at the little girl in her pig tails and plaid.

You felt strange. And the strangeness was uncomfortable. Nausea filled your tummy.

“If this is a memory of just the past, “ you started wobbly, “Does that mean...everything is the same as it once was?”

“Yes, that’s right,” acknowledged the Spirit.

You smirked, “Good.” You twisted around on your heel and marched down the hallway that connected to your tiny bedroom.

A small surprised noise escaped you at seeing how pink and purple everything was coloured. On the walls was a my little pony poster. On your floral bed covers was your favourite Bratz doll. You sat down on the tiny bed and sighed before burying your face into your hands.

You tried sneezing. You tried slapping your face. You even got up and started doing jumping jacks. You would do anything to try and wake yourself up! A tiny knock broke your concentration, and you gasped coming face to face with the Spirit of Christmas. He was leaning against the doorway, holding back his laughter.

You sneered at him and sat back on the bed, panting softly. You tried remembering his name; calling him Spirit felt tedious.

“Chris was it?” you spat mockingly, “Is that because your name's Christmas?”

He dug his hands into his pockets, his smile unfaltered, “Nah, I just liked the name, it fits. My real name you wouldn’t be able to say because it hasn’t been said by the tongue of man.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yea okay whatever,” you dismissed sourly, “So, what the fuck is this? Huh? Is this some kind of sick game, are you trying to hurt me?”

Your throat grew tight. You couldn’t believe what was happening and why of all people this was happening to you. What did he even want? Was this just some insane plot to blackmail you?

“Well, guess what,” your chin jerked out at him, “I’m not scared, I’m not hurt. In fact I’m thrilled!” you showed off your laughter, forced from your lungs.

His smile softened, “Ah, but why is your lips trembling? And...what’s that I see?”

He took a large step forward and stood above you. You laid back, flinching at his hand reaching down to you face. Your heart thudded loudly.

His finger was hot on your cheek, it rolled up and brushed your skin. He pulled back the finger, rolling it into his knuckle and moved it between your eyes to show you something

On his finger was a drop of moisture.

“A tear?” he whispered, “What ever for?”

Your face felt hot and you blinked away the others that escaped your lashes, you sucked in a deep breath and rubbed your nose.

You let out a fake nervous laugh, “Please, you think I’m crying? Have you not seen how dusty this house his? I’m just having allergies.”

Little did you know, the Spirit could see beyond your lies.

He sat down beside you on your bed and placed his large hand on your knees.

You felt vulnerable. You didn’t want him here, you didn’t want to be here. And what was worse was his silence. He did not speak for a long while. The only noises were the sounds of the little girl and her parents in the living room.

You sighed and looked at the floor. You missed this point in your life. Things were simpler. You were so oblivious to the world and it’s harms.

“Your father sounds incredibly proud,” The Spirit said, his thumb ran over your skin.

Your eyes fluttered and you nodded.

“Did you know he told you the truth? About your picture?”

You eyed him cautiously.

He snapped his fingers and your bedroom faded into an office space. You were sitting on a dark oak desk. Seeing the boxy computer with twistable speakers struck you with nostalgia.

11:00am 26th December, 1999, Texas, Austin.

Your dad came through the office door, holding a piece of paper. Your picture.

He pinned it to a cork board and one of his colleagues that followed him in jokingly asked, “What’s with the Picasso cow?”

Your dad huffed back, “Hey man, it’s a reindeer and for your information, my daughter made it for me. And I’m lucky to have it. What did your kids get you?”

The coworker snorted and muttered under his breath, “A phone call asking about Child support, always check if the condom is ripped my friend.”

The two men left, bantering between each other.

You looked at the photo of your dad, your mom, seven year old you and a baby Caroline. It was a Polaroid taken in the hospital. Your mom had little Caroline just before the new year. You all looked so happy. You loved being a big sister, you couldn’t stop leaving baby Caroline alone, eager for her to grow up and become your best friend. Were there times she annoyed you? Yes, she was your sister after all. But Caroline had a heart of gold.

The Spirit touched the photo and asked with mirth, “Such a beautiful family...whatever happened?”

You didn’t answer. You slid off the desk and marched out of the office door only to somehow walk right back inside...you gasped and turned back around but when you opened the door to leave it was like staring into a mirroring space.

You poked your head out of the office only for it to be poking back inside through the same door.

It was the strangest paradox that you had come to find.

The Spirit sucked his teeth and shook his head, “Yea, funny that...so here’s the deal...you are going to follow my rules.”

‘Asshole doesn’t know what a deal is.’

He stood away from the cork board and sat down in your father’s rolling desk chair, stacking his feet up onto the wood loudly.

Your hands protectively wrapped around yourself. His pupils seemed to expand and shrink quickly like a cat. Your skin crawled.

“What rules?” You scoffed, “Are these a part of your test?”

He nodded once, “Yes. See for this whole thing to work, you have to comply and participate...meaning,” he shoved away from the desk and launched from the chair to walk fast towards you, causing you to walk backwards and hit the wall behind you, his hand grabbed and squeezed your jaw, from his teeth he seethed, “When I ask a question.. you answer it. Or I could just leave you here...forever.”

Your eyes watered, your chest heaved sporadically, “L-leave me here?”

His eyes fluttered, “Oh I’m sorry, you didn’t think this would have consequences?” His nose pressed to yours as he remarked, “Your little friend Marlene is stuck haunting your apartment for that reason. She’s stuck in a loop in which she can never escape. She gets to watch you everyday moving into her apartment and moving all her possessions around. I could leave you here and do the same. I could let you re-watch your father hang up your picture for eternity.”

His bright blue eyes darkened almost totally black. At that point you couldn’t tell if he was a good spirit or an unholy one.

You swallowed hard with a whimper and squeezed shut your eyes. His hot breath tickled your ear.

“I can be merciful...so...” his thumb rubbed over your bottom lip, peeking out from your eyes you thought he might kiss you, “Let’s try again...”

When he released you and turned back to the cork board he clicked his fingers. You collapsed from the wall to your knees, too weak and shaky to hold you up after his dominant spell. Piles of work paper flew around the room, around his head, his eyes raced over the pages, the words turned glowing gold as he read over them with his supernatural powers.

“Your family looked stable enough for their poor income. You lived a decent childhood...” He looked over his shoulder, his eyes hard and demanding, “What happened that changed it all?”

You bowed your head cowering as you whispered, “You already know.”

The papers that swirled in a storm around him floated softly down to the floor in front of you. The ink of the printed words began morphing into swirling shapes and colours.

The Spirit said, “I’d like it if you told me. That’s how this works. We analyse what really happened compared to what you think happened.”

Your eyes stared at the colours in the ink rise, painting the image of a snow covered alley way from nightmares years ago. You gasped. Your mother, you and your sister were all walking down from the entrance. You clenched the front of your nightgown and desperately blabbered into begging. Tears ran down your face. It didn’t take much effort knowing what was to come.

“Please don’t make me watch it.”

You tried to move the papers away but the pages fought back in nasty stinging paper cuts.

Your covered your face and eyes before hearing the mystic being bellow, “Put your hands down!”

Half screaming you sobbed, “No, please! I can’t do it! Please!”

You stood up on your feet and threw yourself into him. He did not hold you and let you fall at his feet. He did crouch down and rub both his thumbs over your snot covered lip.

“Please,” you choked, his finger pressed to you mouth. He shook his head and softly hushed you. He cupped the back of your neck and moved his mouth to ghost along your lips.

You hiccuped and opened your mouth, waiting for him to just conquer a kiss. He almost did with how his tongue tickled your lips and teeth when he icily repeated, “Dont forget I can leave your here. And you can watch it over and over and over. Be a good girl. Tell me what happened.”

He sat on the floor and tugged you into his arms and lap. You buried your face into his neck and hiccupped again.

“C-caroline was nine and I was sev-seventeen...Mom took us Christmas shopping. We were gonna buy something for Dad. A watch. A really fucking nice watch because dad had a big promotion in New York coming up...on our way back home, a drunken asshole with a broken bottle threatened to kill us if we didn’t give him our bags. We complied and mom made sure to step in front of us. He got angry because it wasn’t a Rolex...he then...”

You broke down again and clenched Chris’ white sweater tightly. His fingers raced up and down your spine slowly and tempered, hushing you until you managed to start talking again.

“What did this man do?”

The pages turned dark burgundy red.

Your but your bottom lip and sniffled, “He punched the broken bottle into Moms’ belly. It was so sharp it cut through her jacket, her skin and fat all the way into her liver. There was nothing Caroline and I could do. We tried to stop the bleeding with our coats. But When paramedics arrived ....she had bled to death. I watched her choke on it.”

You wiped your tears and snot across his shoulder, the soft wool soaked it up. His strong hands pulled you closer into him. You straddled his hips, curling your legs around his back. Your night gown hem rose up around your nude hips. His body was so warm. He was like a blanket around you.

“She died, protecting us,” you gulped, “She died over a fucking watch because some greedy homeless drunk wanted money for some booze.”

The Spirit clucked his tongue, “Your mother passed and your father?”

Your tears had calmed down significantly, you covered yourself to sit on his thigh instead of balancing on just his lap. You twisted your body and stared at the moving pictures on the papers.

Your dad came to image. The black beneath his eyes and the sunken cheeks were not the man you wished to remember. He lit a cigarette and pressed a bottle to his lips.

“Dad got his promotion and we moved to Manhattan but...Mom’s death really took a toll on him.”

You were making paper angels on the floor with your sister. You hung them up together in her room. There was no Christmas tree. It was the Christmas after your mom’s death and before you left for college. It was the last Christmas you shared with Caroline.

The sweet ten year old was wise and emotionally matured than others her age. It was how she processed your moms death. Caroline at only ten was able to keep you and your father from experiencing more heart ache and grief.

You watched the two girls climbed under a blanket and play with a flashlight. You pushed over her wrist a rubber band loomed bracelet with her favourite colours. She gave you three fruity scented rubbers and a pencil she had been rewarded by her teacher at school.

“I used that pencil until the tip was impossible to hold,” you whispered and felt Chris’ warm wet lips press against your temple, he rocked you like you were the most fragile thing in the room. Maybe you were.

“She still keeps your rubber band bracelet in her bedside table...she wore it to the birth of your nephew,” The spirit stated.

You choked and cupped your hand over your mouth. You hadn’t cried so hard and so much in years not since-

“And then you left for College.”

You sucked in a deep and painful breath. You nodded and clenched your hand into a fist.

“College wasn’t so bad. I had my fun like everyone else,” you lied.

“Did you?” Chris smirked, “Let’s have a look at that then? Shall we?”

8:00pm 23rd December, 2012, New York University.

Your father’s desk morphed into a pool table.

It was the party of the season. Sororities and fraternities came together. You weren’t a member of a sorority. You chose to believe stand offishly that sororities were of a hive cult mind. It wasn’t worth networking in such a unnecessary club and housing.

You didn’t have friends in college either. You didn’t make yourself approachable. Always sitting at the front of the class room and never smiling. You were the dedicated pupil and that made you into the coldest fish of the school.

Your professors approval and marks is all you cared about. The more successful, the more opportunities and the more chances of gaining success enough to maybe look after your little sister. That originally was the goal.

You watched with Chris as a gaggle of Kappa delta girls giggled passed by a young girl no older than nineteen holding a red cup close to her chest. She looked disdainful and tired. She was wearing a basic white thankyou with a cotton scarf and jeggings. Thick black glasses at on the edge of your nose. You laughed awkwardly looking at the past youth. Your recalled your hipster phase in college but didn’t remember you looking this horrendous and mismatched. Your hair...you shuddered. You never did that style again.

“Fun party!” Chris called over your shoulder. He wore a red Christmas hat and in the crook of his lip was a party blower. The lights and music were obnoxiously jolly and hip hop rap remixes found on YouTube. You know YouTube? When it’s common the iPhone one was still a little television and not the red play button we know today. So many people were growing nuts over these two Neanderthals on a channel called “Smosh” at the time, maybe they were trying to mimic that movie of dipshits called Jack Ass.

Yes...party...you had been invited and you almost said no...but your mother’s death anniversary was coming up and you felt it appropriate to seek the comfort of other people and illicit items to take the pain away for a night. The young woman continued to help herself to the eggnog, standing right beside the table, spooning the goop into her red cup

You tried forgetting about the drunk monster that stabbed your mother all those years ago.

“A naughty freshman?” Chris chuckled, breaking you away from your thoughts.

He floated to the eggnog bowl and grinned,.“Barely a woman and breaking the rules, I wouldn’t have pegged you as a rebel.”

You rolled your eyes, “Hardly,” before walking over to sit on the edge of the pool table. Some guys were playing with their cues and balls. They walked through you as they passed by. One of them you remembered very well and tried your best to not acknowledge.

“It’s how you met him though...isn’t it?” said Chris, looking between the young woman and a young man playing at the table.

The man was handsome. Tall and dark. His eyes a burnt burgundy that sent the younger you thrills down your spine.

The young woman leaning in her corner and sipping her sorrows away was eyeing the game keenly. It looked...fun.

The very ass she looked upon was found and shaped with strong thighs and calf’s under those denim jeans. The ass belonged to a man. And that man turned around once he caught her staring in the corner of his eye.

He smirked and finished the game before swaggering over your way. Even now you still admired how good looking he was.

Chris was looking him up and down, smiling and cockily mimicking the walk but this time back to you so you could both watch the events of your forlorn past.

“Hey, aren’t you in my maths class?” The man asked leaning over her with just his right arm.

She ignored him initially, shrugging as a reply.

He chuckled, “You’re that weird chick that sits at the front right?”

Her eyes flickered back and her lip curdled, “And you’re that obtuse moron that doesn’t know the difference between algebra and calculus equations?”

Chris chuckled, “There you are. I was wondering when you’d come out to play.”

You felt a twinge ashamed. Is that how others saw you all the time? An uptight, haughty bitch? You remained quiet.

“Well...I find I act my dumbest when I’m around beautiful ladies,” said the confident man, “I get all nervous and stuff.”

“Nervous and stuff?” She repeated slowly, flicking her tongue deliberately against her teeth to sound out each precious syllable.

God, it made you cringe to watch yourself.

He leant in closer and pressed his nose to hers, his eyes glanced up and he said heatedly, “You’re standing beneath a mistletoe.”

Before he could officially kiss her, Chris clapped his hands and world the room around. He grabbed your wrist and made sure to stand you on his shoes as the people and party disappeared into books on shelves.

4:00pm 23rd December, 2013, New York University.

The pool table melted down into the shape of a smaller desk and chair. That same girl was sitting at it with her head in a book and her pen against the page. The sky outside was dark. It was snowing lightly beyond the windows.

That man from the party now wore a dark blue jumper and sweatpants, he wandered up beside her, sipping a starbucks milkshake.

She moved the thick black rim glasses from her face. Her fingertips rubbed circles into her eyes before returning back to the important reading material. Dark shadows bagged beneath her eyes.

“You were a dedicated student,” said Chris, his hands lingered up your spine and wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You nodded. You were.

The loud sucking of the man’s Starbucks cup made her slap the book close.

With her tight voice she snootily scolded him, “You know you’re not allowed food and drink in the library.”

He smirked, “Whatcha gonna do miss goodie goodie? Gonna tell on me? Gonna take my drink away?” he shook it, the ice cubes rattled I side.

He chuckled and chewed the straw. His eyes glanced at you up and down.

“Youre kinda hot...in a weird nerdy way you know?” he chuckled.

Both younger you and the you if now rolled your eyes and scoffed. But you knew the younger version was naive and how so many of those one liner comments got you into the most destructive relationship of your life.

The young man stole her book from the desk and ran off with it. Her shriek became laughter as she quickly collected her bag and pencils to chase after him.

The Spirit held you when he stood behind you His hands cradled your arms and hip, rocking you slowly, side to side. He watched the interaction of two young people deep into their puppy love with a great fascination over his face.

“Who was the handsome beau?”

“Anthony Mackie...the schools best hockey player and class clown idiot,” you muttered.

Chris hummed with pleased curiosity, “Is that all?”

You grabbed at his wrists and squeezed them tightly. You pressed your head back into his chest and sighed.

“He was my boyfriend,” you said quietly to Chris.

The library seemed to fast forward. Outside the seasons changed from winter, spring, summer fall and back to winter again. She was sitting back in the same desk again. Her eyes were still tired and now she wore a little more makeup to conceal it. Her eyes were glued to the pages, racing to read and write notes. Her ipod shuffle earphones were half broken, crackling each time unless you held the cord in a specific way.

And a soft humming slipped from her lips, totally immersed in her study.

“Oh, oh, where do we begin? The rubble or our sins?”

Chris side glanced you and you side glanced him. Without the music, her crackly voice just sounded like a dying bird.

“And the walls kept tumbling down in the city that we love. Grey clouds roll over the hills bringing darkness from above.”

“An awful drawer and a terrible deaf tone singer,” he laughed, “I didn’t think I would learn so much about the things you’re bad at.”

You had to admit, he was right. You stomped hard onto his foot. His lips puckered and his eyes squeezed in his silent pain.

“Oops,” you feigned ignorance, “Guess I’m bad at watching my step too.”

“But if you close your eyes,” she sang a little louder and you felt that second hand humiliation wave through you hard, “Does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? And if you close your eyes..Does it almost feel like you’ve been here befor-”

Behind her, Anthony came whistling around a corner and stuck his head into the study nook, stealing her head phone from her ear and kissed her cheek hard.

She smiled and just as quickly frowned.

“C’mon babe,” said Anthony, “Sebastian’s throwing a killer basement bash for the holidays. Let’s go to the party.”

The college girl laughed mockingly at her boyfriend, “I’m sorry, did you forget that we have a test tomorrow? I don’t have time to go out wasting it away with your degenerate friends.”

Chris hands sneakily ran down over your thighs and slipped beneath the night gown to cup your belly. Your breath hitched. You couldn’t tell if you were aroused or disgusted anymore. Why of all times and places was he groping you now?!

“Baby,” the hockey player sighed, “You’re the smartest chick I know. I’m sure you’ll pass tomorrow. A little bit of dancing and drinking won’t change that.”

“No,” she firmly hissed and turned her head back to your book. Anthony’s chest deflated.

“Anthony just wanted to party all the time,” you scoffed to Chris, “He was so horny and stupid I can’t believe I actually dated him.”

He gave you a side ways glance, his thumb rubbed tiny circles into your skin.

“So you dumped him?” he asked looking between you and your younger studying self.

Sheepishly you looked away and shrugged, “...not exactly...it’s complicated.”

“Enlighten me,” he whispered into your ear, kissing your cheek after.

Your body grew warmer by the second especially in places you wouldn’t have guessed. Your insides felt alive and buzzing. It was so wrong.

“...I...” Anthony paused and took a few moments to break out his voice, “I can see your studies are more important than me, huh? We haven’t hung out in ages and...you’re never taking a break from study to enjoy life with me... Is this really more important? I mean, c’mon...” his eyes softened, “It’s almost Christmas break.”

And it was violent. You jumped watching her turn and announce cold cuttingly, “As a matter of fact, this is. I don’t have time to waste on dumb doornail guys when I need to succeed. I guess I can’t expect a hopeless hockey player to understand. Go skate on some ice and hit a put, it’s not like you’ll be able to feed your future family.”

His eyes widened.

Your eyes widened.

Her eyes darkened with scornful hate.

He kissed her head and shook his head, he whispered, “Merry Christmas Y/N. I wish you nothing but the world in your palm, I just won’t be in it.” He stood away shakily. Tears were pearled in his eyes as he walked away leaving her to her own devices. She grunted and went back to her studies... The next morning you had earned the top score of the class.

You knew the break up was quick, you didn’t remember saying such a mean thing to the guy you had fallen mad head over hill in love with.

You couldn’t believe you had been so cruel.

But you had. And there was nothing you could do to take it back. It happened. It was done. Finished.

And Anthony did nothing wrong except invite you to a party, a party you never went to, a party where he met his future wife.

“Spirit remove me from this place,” you choked as your chest began trembling.

Chris hushed you and kissed the side of your head, “It’s alright, I told you before, these are merely shadows of the past, things that have been.”

He wiped the unwilling tears coursing down your cheek.

You shook your head and wailed, “I don’t fucking care! Remove me! Take me somewhere else!”

A vile sobbing wail screamed from your lips. You didn’t know where it had come from. Your knees gave way and you fell, Chris’ arm caught your waist in time and laid you down across the carpet.

The vision of time phased away to the darkness. You felt your heart get louder, fearing the unknown pitch black. His hot hand cupped your cheek and you found yourself cowering into his chest.

1:40am 25th December, 2023, New York City.

There was a faint light in the area around you. Dim and blue. Your eyes struggled to open...you lifted your head from what you originally believed was Chris’ chest. Yet it revealed to you quickly that the warmth was only your soft pillows. You were back in your own bedroom again. The sheets has been wrapped around your waist and legs.

You didn’t know how to feel. You just cried. You buried your head and sobbed. You missed your mother and the father you once had. You missed Anthony and regretted how much you might’ve hurt him. And you missed being touched...you missed Chris’ warm hands holding you and the foolish grin he wore. You barely knew up but you mourned his existence that might’ve not been real at all.

Sitting up sniffling and sighing hard, you got out of your bed and walked to your kitchen. You reached for your coffee machine and paused. No, you need something stronger. You went to the fridge and grabbed the bottle of wine from earlier. You intended to finish the damn thing and forget everything for a while.

Turn back around you returned to your room to lay back in your three thousand dollars bedsheets...

Except you didn’t recall buying him too.

Chris, still here. Now laying across your very luxuriously soft duvet. He made it dramatically obvious, running his cheek into your pillow smelling the essence of your tears.

Your spine shot up and down hot. You tried not to smile. You were pleased he was here. You didn’t know where he came from or where he was hiding before but seeing him again welcomed something into your cold heart.

His eyebrows wiggled, “Oh, Merlot? For me? You shouldn’t have.”

You hummed feigning your displeasure, “Its Pinot Noir... I didn’t think you’d be so uncultured.”

He chuckled, looking down at the soft fabrics he was pinching, “Yea, well I’m probably more knowledgeable on hot chocolate and eggnog more than anything.”

He pat the spot beside him, inviting you to sit on your own bed. You felt it was ironic and ludicrous.

“Maybe...anyway...don’t you have somewhere else to be? Someone else to bother?” You snipped and cocked your hip.

“As a matter of fact...” he rolled onto his back and placed his hands behind his head, “I don’t, so be a good snowflake and join me, the covers are incredible!”

You snorted softly rolling your eyes, “I know,” you sat on the bed and unscrewed the bottle, you took a deep sip and cringed a croak, “I bought them.”

He took the bottle from his hands, not asking if he could. But really what was the point in fighting him. He stole your wine and took his own sip. You couldn’t help stare at his bobbing Adams apple.

He passed the bottle back. You were going to take another drink before Chris said, “It all makes sense now.”

You eyes him putting the bottle down....he was daring you to ask it, you knew it...and you complied.

“What?”

You crawled onto your knees on the mattress and waited with your curious eyes. The wine warmed your belly. You tossed your head to one side, staring up and down the Spirit. He had such an appealing form for something so inhuman and supposedly holy.

He smiled.

“What!?” you repeated needfully.

He sighed, “This,” he waved his hand towards you.

“You just gestured to all of me.”

“Exactly.”

Your eyes narrowed and a bold bolt drove through you, the twinge of annoyance mixed with frustrated anger, “If you’re going to talk in riddles, you can get the fuck off my bed and get the fuck out of my apartment. Merry fucking Christmas.”

His smile remained but his eyes sparkled with mischief. He lifted his chin.

“How you became a holiday hating, grievously malicious, uptight little cunt.”

Your eyes could have popped out from your head, “Excuse me?!” You gagged on nothingness. Your fists curled...‘What happens to people who punched Spirits in the nose?’

He shrugged and sighed, “You wanted to know. Don’t blame me for telling you the truth. I don’t do white lies, that’s not in my books.”

You grabbed the wine again and took a mean big gulp, glaring at him from the corner of your eye, “If that was the case,” your voice said with barbs, “Children wouldn’t believe in Santa and the north pole and his company of elves.”

He pursed his lips and nodded before he snatched the bottle from your hand and vanished it from existence.

“Hey!” you snapped, “I wasn’t finished with that! It cost me-”

“Nothing,” he interrupted and tapped his fingers on his chest, “It didn’t cost you a penny because you got a refund when you lied to the winery that it’s wax seal was broken upon delivery when it very well wasn’t...but upon tasting it you felt it wasn’t worth the price you paid therefore it shouldn’t cost you a dime...it didn’t cost you a damn thing.”

You sat back and gulped, ‘How the fuck-‘

“Christmas past remember? I see all...so don’t bother trying to convince me that you needed to finish that meaningless sip,” he curtly said, “You need to focus on bettering your mindset and yourself. It’s important.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and pouted down at the floor. You wanted to cry and scream with embarrassment, you wanted to kick or break something.

He smirked and picked up your chin with a long finger. You sniffled and jerked your head away. You crawled down to the very end of your bed. You pulled the covers back and kicked the sheets before sliding your feet under them and pulling them up to your chin.

You huffed softly, feeling the prickling heat of tears behind your eyes, why did he have to shame you so easily, “Or what, you gonna chain me up like Marlene? Go on then, call me a cunt again. Put me on your big ol’ scary naughty list.”

You shook your head and rolled your entire body away from him. A tear rolled from your eye and soaked down into your pillow, meeting the rest of its previous brethren tears.

Chris gazed down at you with sad hope. He really did want you to pass the test. He knew you had the potential, but did you have the drive? Maybe you just needed the push...

You were lonely in life more than ever before. You were miserable despite convincing yourself you were incredibly successful in all parts of life.

His arm circled forward and bodly rubbed down your middle and curled around your waist. You sniffled again, ignoring his touch all together.

He laid his cheek ontop of yours and whispered, “Do you want to know what happens to naughty girls like you? You want to really know what they get?”

You shut your eyes, you didn’t want to look at him. You were upset and too ashamed. You didn’t want to be teased again.

You mumbled grumpily, “Coal up their ass?”

“Oh it’s not coal that goes up there,” he hummed deeply

Your eyes fluttered awake.

His hand reached under the duvet and touched your bare thigh...his finger tips wriggled in between your thighs and attacked your clit...your breath hitched.

“I gather you need motivation if you are to improve your outlook on life,” he breathed huskily into your ear.

Your lips parted, your eyes squeezed tight. A gurgling moan crawled from your throat. You rocked your hips into his hand and savoured his controlling hand.

Tiny pants left your lips as he pushed two fingers inside of your salivating pussy. He twitched them back and forth at an average steady pace.

His hot wet tongue licked from your shoulder up to your ear. His loud sucking on your skin cause a small keen shudder to glide down your spine. He kissed your neck and sighed into your skin.

His knee curled up and pressed between your thighs, he fully intended to keep your entire pussy open and available to his instrumental fingers.

“Look at you,” he muttered, “So compliant when I have my fingers up this stubborn cunt. Are you going to promise you’ll behave and obey me from now on? Cease you insistent fight?”

“Pl-please Chris,” you gasped,

He smirked against you skin, “Please what?” he purred

“F-fuck!” you whined and pressed your ass back against him, trying to rub against his hidden cock.

He slapped your backside once making you jump. He chuckled wickedly, “I will if you promise to obey and listen.”

You panted and groaned, “Make- make me!” you wouldn’t submit so easily....not even for unworldly dick.

His noise was feral, rising from the back of his throat like a growl. He pressed his mouth to yours. You whined, his tongue choked you and pressed your tongue down, dominating you even in kiss.

He gasped pulling back, “Very well you stubborn slut.”

He snapped his fingers and poof- the blankets, your night gown and surprisingly all his clothing vanished from the bed all together.

You gasped at the feeling of his hot skin pressing up your back. Your hands clawed the pillows as he thrust his fingers fast and hard. Your eyes started to roll until the sensation was totally lost. He selfishly took his hand back, moments before you hit the high. You whimpered and trembled. You couldn’t breathed you were a mixture of frustration, anger and needy obsession. You would have done anything for him to finish.

He sat up and rolled you until your belly was laid over his legs. His cock you could not see but feel touching you made you excited and eager to know how it would feel to fuck you. His hands roughly kneaded your thighs and bottom.

‘No...he wouldn’t...’

His hand came flying down cracking across the skin of your ass. You squealed and felt your hips launch up in the air. The sting was like a cutting burn that lasted for around thirty seconds. He did it again and again. His flat palm struck you and would the pain absorb before rubbing the flesh. You didn’t fight him and that did not surprise him.

Your hips wriggled and twisted. His hand was harsh and fiery. You groaned and savoured it. And when it felt almost too much and you tried to wiggle free. He pinned you down hard by your neck and shoulders.

You bit your lips and cried, really cried. You grit your teeth and sobbed through each striking spank on your naked ass. Your hands clawed the bed and the skin of his thighs. He hailed into you harder. You screamed and choked on your sobs. It wasn’t fun anymore. It hurt and he wasn’t stopping even when you began squealing and kicking your legs on the bed trying to twist your hips away.

“Stop! Stop please! Please! It hurts! No more, no more.”

“If you didn’t want this, you’d behave.”

You swore he had to have been flaying your skin by his hand until you reached back and cupped or own hot cheeks, protecting yourself from his whiping palm.

You sobbed and trembled. You flinched and whimpered with shining tears when a surprisingly soft knuckle brushed your cheek and his husky voice hushed you softly.

He slowly turned you over off his lap and dragged you close to his chest.

He shoved his thumb into your mouth. You didn’t fight or pull back. You sucked on this digit, wrapping your lips around it. You felt his arm wrap around you and pull you closer. Your breasts pressed to his chest, he was warm

And his thumb gave you something to focus on instead of your burn sore bottom. You whined and laid your head back on the pillows. You rubbed to cheek on the warm skin of his shoulder while he soothed you from your tears using his soft cooing and thumb you greedily kept in your mouth. You moaned and mewled over it, licking the pad and scratching your tongue along his nail.

His fingers ran up and down your back. He pulled his thumb from your mouth with a gentle pop.

“Look at you,” he whispered, “Greedy, spoilt, but once you’re faced with real consequences you come to heel...”

You tried shaking your head, denying it. No. You were an independent woman with control.

A false mocking awe came from him as he said, “Oh yes, yes that’s exactly what you are. But you’re going to promise to be a good girl from now on or else you’ll never cum again.”

You were speechless...you wanted to be fresh with him and state that you still owned a vibrator...but what if he took it away like your wine.

He spread your thighs, he tugged your knees over his hip and rubbed your clit with his fingers until you were wet enough to his liking. He kissed you again, laughing as you pressed yourself up into him, stealing any physical touch you could possibly gain. He ran a soft hand across your cheek, tender and loving. His lips suckled their way down to your chest. Those red cherry lips plucked at your nipples and soft breasts.

Finally the tip of his pink cock touched your pussy. It was firm and from what you could see in the faint dark, it was lengthy. Your arms reached up and held onto his shoulders, you dug your nails sharply into his shoulders as he entered.

He grunted and sighed, struggling to stuff himself in and would pause when your noises were whines of pain. He made sure to avoid any tearing.

And when he managed to press himself taut into you, his balls touching your ass and thigh, you felt like you had been through a workout.

The walls of your cunt were filled to every crevice of his fat cock. You moaned when he moved tiny thrusts into you instead of brutally slamming.

You pressed your mouth to him again, his eyes looking back at you with adoration. He jerked his hips back a little meaner watching you gasp. He mocked your gasp before kissing your nose and then your mouth. He did it again to taste and feel your gasp.

He moved you back, dislodging quickly so that he could climb over you and enter swiftly inside. He picked your legs up with the backs of your knees and anchored himself down, harder and faster picking up the speed.

“You hear that?” he asked and moved himself in smaller jerks, “Dirty little slut, you’re drooling syrup all over my pole.”

And if you weren’t so close to cumming you would’ve laughed. His hand pressed down on your throat. He barrelled into you and slapped a breast.

The sensations of being prevented to breathe as straight and the slap intensifies all your senses. You groaned and choked.

He hissed, bending down to press his nose into yours.

Your legs wrapped tight around his waist trying to lift your hips up to meet him.

“You want to cum?” he snarled? You nodded trying to not cry again. God you needed it.

“Pl-pl-please,” you gasped through the violent thrusts.

He licked your cheek and growled, “You promise to be on your best behaviour from now on?”

You whimpered and nodded.

His thumb attacked your clit as he fucked you.

“Cum,” he whispered, “Cum for me on my cock little slut.”

Your body contorted, muscles strained as you released a soundless scream. You threw your head back let you body be consumed by the orgasm you let tear through your entire body. Your bones and chest rattled. When air finally came to your lungs you let out a powerful sob. But Chris gazing down at you bore joyful vision at your smile as you cried.

You felt incredible, hit by a bus made of all things delightful.

His cock was still inside you. You didn’t take a moment to think about him or whether he cummed. You selfishly enjoyed the gift he gave you and forgot about the promise you had vowed.

He pulled away slowly. You hissed at the departure. So sensitive.

You curled lazily up into a ball and fluttered your eyes shut.

You only recalled feeling his hot lips against your ear, “I will return to you when the bell chimes once more...” his pecked your cheek and left you to lay in your mess, exhausted and falling into your own sleep again.

[seramilla]

Clara and odette are considered great students, if a bit naughty. They are constantly asking questions to expand their knowledge, constantly trying to derail the lesson by asking similar but unrelated questions, they are nice and and willing to bring a smile to their fellow students, class clowns.

The only bad thing the teachers see is that the two have trouble concentrating, ignoring them, and dont test well, purposefully try and fail the tests.

But the tests dont count for their grades just for the teachers and they bring home A+'s in heaven all the time and are constantly put in AP, advanced, and even pushed up a few grades to 'challenge them mentally'.

Sera is delighted they are such good students, Carmilla is amused because she knows what they're trying to do but they are learning. What they aren't learning is that reading ahead and trying to poke holes in the lessons isnt helping their case.

Odette and Clara are proof Heaven’s education system is garbage. They're extremely smart. They get bored in class and just want to have fun, but put them in front of a test they're actually getting graded on, and they'll probably finish early and just be reading/drawing/messing around for the rest of the testing period. Some of their angel classmates are probably like what the fuck, why are these Hellborn scoring higher than us? Because your nepotism doesn't count for everything, Jeffrey!!!

[crimeronan]

there are literally incalculable meta posts i could make about the silt verses (it’s one of those stories where i have thoughts about Every Damn Line) but tonight i’m thinking about how..... DELICIOUSLY it sets up and then subverts your worldbuilding expectations.

if you haven’t listened yet. consider this mini essay my pitch. (or rather one of many pitches.)

because you start with this narrative episode about two members of an outlawed religion seeking other members of their faith, and they’re both compelling and sympathetic and layered narrators, but also. one is describing a childhood built on drowning and torturing people to death and the other is delighted by sacrificial corpses and horrific apparitions of eldritch nonsense and you’re like, “okay, yeah, this is a horror podcast. i can pretty damn well see why your religion is outlawed jesus FUCK you guys how is there THIS MUCH MURDER involved in your religious rites-”

and one of the narrators tells you that society is hypocritical because the legal religions Also cause harm. and if you’re anything like me, you go okay, girl, whatever you need to tell yourself to justify your current crusade. your god is a special kind of fucked up but it’s all good

then of course there are hints of social worldbuilding that challenge this assumption, but it’s not until paige’s introduction ep that you’re smacked Full In The Face with like. All Of It. 

because paige is a law-abiding citizen high up on the corporate food chain, and she works a mundane job at a branding company. 

and the company’s margins are bad. 

and the company’s industry is shrinking. 

and the company needs to cut costs and reinvigorate its own brand. 

and of course this is a difficult time for everyone but flexibility is necessary to stay competitive in a cutthroat world.

and now the company is torturing its low-performing employees to death in front of everyone as a corporate ritual. viscerally described. 

and paige, who JUST watched her closest work friend die in the most horrific way imaginable, is playing her part as someone high up on the corporate food chain.

she is being upbeat and being cheerful and encouraging her surviving coworkers to “look lively” and pretending that nothing happened. 

and not a single person protests. and no one shrieks in horror and everyone shifts back into their worksona and the day passes without any particular note because this is a social norm and layoff-sacrifices are too commonplace to report and it is legal and it is accepted and it is a good way to boost the flagging numbers for the giant capitalist machine.

and you have this realization that. 

this Really Is how the world is. 

there really ISN’T anything separating the outlaw narrators’ rituals from those of the corporate and city-based gods.

and then the follow-up question becomes, “wait, then why is THEIR god banned?? if it’s not the murder and the horror then why is their god banned???? what’s the fucking difference????”

and the answer is that their outlawed god draws people away from the cities and the factories and the oil rigs and the pollution and the mineshafts. and their outlawed god does not contribute anything to the state. 

and it’s not about what people worship or what the gods want or what the rituals require or what the hallowed bodies look like.

it’s just about how The State (TM) and Capitalism (TM) are both systems that have weaponized the law to kill every god that doesn’t contribute to their money and power and exploitation and culture and control.

and then it’s.... it’s not about the horror anymore.

it’s not a story of two deeply flawed protagonists from a sick and twisted cult who are reasonably forced into the shadows of a largely normal world because They Are In A Horror Story, And Are Doing What Horror Protagonists Do (Being Fucking Crazy).

it’s a story about our world. the one we live in. we the listener. here in our modern-ass non-supernatural late-stage-capitalism world. it’s about all the structures we’ve built and burned and all the destruction at the center of that goddamn world.

the eldritch gods and terrors are just set dressing.