#i actually have quite a few more insulting thoughts but they are for. secret.

[theloveinc]

if u see me ignoring discourse it's because everything i have to say is insulting

[nellielsss]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀᴘᴛᴀɪɴ'ꜱ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ˳༄꠶

Summary: Your captain loves nothing more than spending the night with you in his bed! Although, he wishes that you weren't so hellbent on keeping this thing a secret... A drabble semi-inspired by Touch My Body by Mariah Carey only it's much more intimate and less playful. Author's note: the amount of brainrot I've been having over Yami omfg 😭 😭 I've been OBSESSED with Black Clover and it's possibly worse than JJK... speaking of, I know this doesn't include the JJK crowd, but a girl can still explore her interests!! This also might be very ooc for Yami but IDGAF this is my perception of him. IDGAF if this flops I JUST NEED HIM TO FUCK ME ALL NIGHT LONG!!!!! Pairing: Yami Sukehiro x fem!reader CW: gentle sex, pet names, praising

🪽 Nσɯ ρʅαყιɳɠ…

"Thwap. Thwap. Thwap."

╰┈➤ Those were the sounds that were echoing throughout the Captain's quarters, and there was no way one could mistake them for the sound of anything but Captain Yami's thick, monstrous cock thrusting in and out of you.

"Y-Yami~ Captain Yami~" you gasped, looking over your shoulder at the Captain of the Black Bulls as he fucked--no, made love to you. For a guy who weighed close to 230 pounds, he could be quite gentle with you in bed.

And he had to be, because there was no way that he could harm his pretty little Bull, not when he A. needed you to go out on a mission soon and B. desperately wanted your trust. The latter reason was his cover for going slow if asked about it, at least, because the real reason was much more embarrassing for the prideful captain to admit.

He was in love with you, of course! He's actually had a crush on you ever since he saw you, but he'd never admit to it; he had a reputation to uphold.

"There you go, you've got it, sweets," he said in that deliciously husky voice of his as he gripped your hips and moved you back and forth on his girth. "Fuck, I don't even know how I could repay you for this, pretty girl... letting some big, ugly brute like me have a sweet taste of your body," he murmured, leaning down and pressing sweet kisses to your neck. "Don't even know why you'd agree to see me in private and let me do you in like this, you're way too fucking amazing for me," he thought aloud with a dry chuckle. Even in the throes of passion, he still found a way to be self-deprecating.

"Y-You're not ugly, S-Suke- gah~!" you gasped, feeling him press the head of his cock against your sweet spot for a few moments.

"Whatever you say, princess," he chuckled, relishing the feel of your spongy spot against his tip. "Fuuuck, looks like I found your sweet spot, eh? I'll make sure to make it even sweeter," he added, pulling your hips closer and thrusting as deep as he possibly could.

You buried your face in the pillows that he'd bought for your comfort, much too embarrassed by the sounds you were making. "I don't want my captain losing any sleep when there's missions to be completed," was what you told him when you were at the market.

So sweet to him, was what he first thought. Even when you were practically insulting him with your "compliments," he could still see right through the prickliness and find the gooey inside of your words. He'd never had anyone care for him like this--not since the Wizard King was his captain, and that was because the King had a weird obsession with his dark magic. Sure, you were bound by the respect expected of a captain's subordinate, but you took it a step further and personally cared for him.

He knew it from the moment you joined the Black Bulls and showed what you were made of that he'd somehow get you in his arms & his bed, and when that day came, it was the happiest day of his life, because now he could make sweet, sweet love to you every single night. Even when you complained and made a fuss about it, he could just throw you over his shoulder and carry you to his bedroom.

His sheer strength came in handy, because now he was giving you deep, steady strokes, his thick, tanned cock rubbing against your walls deliciously, making you feel things you didn't think were humanly possible

For such a brute, he could be so sweet, but that was because he wanted to repay you for your sweetness.

"Hey, pretty, don't hide your face from me," he crooned, gently grabbing your chin mid-stroke and making you look at him. He smiled fondly when he caught the unabashed love and lust in your eye, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "I wanna see my pretty when I make her eyes roll back in her head."

There was it, that cocky streak that he had.

His cockiness could be justified, though; with the sounds you were making, one could imagine that you were ascending to heaven.

"D-Don't tease m'like that, Y-Yami, you know how... flustered I get," you whimpered, stuttering while trying to make your thoughts known. It was so impossible to speak or even think properly with the way he was digging into your guts.

"I know, I know, pretty, but good god is it amazing to see you melt away when I fuck your pretty brains out," he said, the words flowing off his tongue like honey.

He leaned down again and pressed his lips to yours this time, his huge arms wrapping around you even tighter and holding you to him. Was it blatant favoritism? Yes; was it probably going against the rules? Also yes; but neither of you cared, not even a little right now.

Not when he could make his subordinate moan his name over and over again when he made her cum.

His abs flexed and relaxed, his pecs felt hard and soft against your back, and you were just loving every single second of this. No matter how bratty or prickly you got with him, there was nothing like having him dick you down every single night without a care in the world, knowing that you could come to him any time you needed some stress relief or a shoulder to cry on or a dick to ride on. Looking at you now while he sat up straighter, hand still on your head and guiding you back and forth on his cock, he smiled softly once more. In that moment of sweet, unabashed bliss, Yami Sukehiro vowed to someday make you his officially, to show the world that you were his prized girlfriend, the woman who made his heart melt every time he so much as sensed your Ki.

His thoughts were interrupted by that familiar feeling of you squeezing and spasming around his thick pole. "Y-Yami, please-"

"I know, baby, I've got you, I've got you. Yami's got you," he murmured, leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips, his nose burying in your hair and sighing softly. "C'mon, cum on your captain's cock."

Those words were enough to make you arch your back and throw your head back with a loud, heavenly moan, babbling out his name while tears flowed down your cheeks.

"There we go, thaaat's it, cum on m'cock like I know you wanna," he cooed a bit louder this time. Watching and feeling you cum around his cock never got old, and it was enough to make him cum as well with a raspy grunt. "Shit, baby, you got me cumming so soon. I was gonna wait, but, oh well; might as well say fuck it," he said after emptying his balls into your eager hole.

He sighed a sigh of relief once his orgasm passed, and he pressed several kisses to your neck while chuckling softly. "Goddamn it, princess--I fuckin' love you."

"Love you too, Yami," you murmured, too fucked out of your head to even process the aftermath of your heavenly orgasm.

"I know you do," he whispered, rolling you over and kissing you. He kissed your lips over and over again, his cock still buried deep inside of you. "One day, I swear to god, I'll show the world how much I love you. Make all those other uptight captains wish that they had what we have."

Possibly the best part of your night was when you fell asleep in his arms, his body entirely entangled with yours all sweaty and sticky. No matter how sticky you were, he would never give a shit about it. He'd hold you just the same.

"So pretty when you sleep," he said with a soft kiss to the forehead.

Your dear friend and fellow Black Bull, Vanessa, didn't miss the soft glow that graced your gorgeous features when you made your way into the dining hall and to breakfast. "Good morning," you said to everyone with a smile on your face, grabbing a plate and getting the food that you were in need of.

"Is it just me, or is she way nicer than she normally is?"

"Right? Her mood's usually worser than Yami's, especially in the morning..."

"It must be nice to be in love," Vanessa sighed, setting aside her bottle of alcohol for a moment. The other Bulls looked at Vanessa with confusion, the observation making them look at each other as well.

"The hell is she talkin' about?"

© ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ-ʙɪᴛᴄʜ77 on tumblr - get your own shit bitches | ca. 6/18/2024

[hearts4hughes]

Hi! I love your writing….Can I please get #7. “you don’t have to like me, you just need to pretend you do.” With Quinn Hughes??

fake dating - quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem! reader

warnings: swearing, nothing else :)

notes: this took way too long for me to write. it’s lightly proofread because i have no motivation to fully proofread it. i was really proud of this imagine towards the beginning, but i feel like it’s just really rushed at the end. let me know how it is!

gif is not mine

it wasn’t a secret that you and quinn hughes didn’t get along. it was quiet obvious to anyone who was in the same room as you two for even a few seconds.

with your mom being best friends with ellen- quinn’s mother- you spent most your time with the hughes family. this wasn’t something that bothered you. after meeting luke and jack, you immediately clicked. they were both like little brothers / best friends to you. however, you couldn’t say the same for the eldest hughes brother.

you weren’t sure what you did to annoy or upset quinn, but you do know the first time meeting him, he grew a deep disliking to you. most of your memories with quinn consisted of excessive teasing. for example, one of your favorite things to do at the hughes’ lake house was to tan. quinn quickly ruined that however after dumping a bucket of ice cold water on you while you tanned outside.

years, and years passed, and quinn’s disliking to you only grew deeper. he didn’t even tease you anymore, he just stopped paying attention to you in all. you didn’t know why it upset you so much, but it did. you’d spent countless nights crying yourself to sleep over an asshole who literally didn’t even acknowledge your existence.

quinn didn’t quite understand why he did this to you. the first time he saw you, he’d felt feelings he never had before. you were the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. but quinn hughes didn’t show any emotion. he was a closed book. so, his only way to avoid confrontation with his emotions was so teach himself to hate you. thus where the hatred started.

even this wasn’t enough for quinn, though. he thought if he insulted and teased you enough, he’d make himself believe the things he’d been saying to you were actually true. but it only made him fall in love with you more. he’d spend countless nights obsessing over you, wondering what type of spell you put on him that made him feel this way.

quinn knew what he had to do. he had to just make himself forget everything about you. which after further examination was impossible- without some sort of head trauma. therefore, his only other option was to completely ignore you. the less he’d engaged with you, the less he’d like you.

what confused you now was the fact that quinn hughes- the same quinn hughes who was your sworn enemy- was laying sprawled out across your bed, begging you to be his date to a party his family was throwing.

“is this some sort of prank?” you ask dumbfound.

“i really wish it was.” he huffs out. “but it’s not.”

were you in some alternate universe or something?

“ok,” you ask in disbelief. “explain what you want me to do again, please?”

“oh my fucking god.” he groans, shaking his body dramatically. “i need you to act like my girlfriend so my family can stop bugging me about bringing someone to this stupid party.”

“i just don’t understand it.” you laugh out sarcastically.

“what don’t you understand?” he runs this hands through his hair in frustration. “you don’t have to have to like me. you just need to pretend you do.”

“why you wouldn’t just ask anyone else is what i don’t understand.” you throw your hands up as if it wasn’t obvious. “i mean you, quinn hughes, could get anyone to gladly go to that event with you. i mean girls would beg, and beg to fake being your girlfriend… and you choose me? someone who would rather stab her eyeballs out than be seen with you.”

“first off, you are such a liar. it’s a privilege to be seen with me.” he starts off smug and cocky as ever. “second, yeah i think i know anyone else would gladly go with me. when i told jack he had like ten girls that were fighting to go with me.”

“and this is relevant because?” you say in an annoyed tone.

was he trying to make you jealous?

honestly, quinn himself didn’t know the answer to that one, but if he was, it was definitely working.

“listen, y/n.” he sits up on your bed. “i know you. our families have been best friends since forever. you are close with my mom, dad, jack, and luke. my entire family.” he counts on his fingers to get his point across. “what i’m trying to say is my family loves you. if i come there with some random girl, i’m going to have to go through the grueling process of introducing her to everyone and all that shit. with you i don’t have to do that.”

you take a moment to actual consider doing this for him. “what’s in it for me?”

“both our families won’t try to make us like each other anymore.” he reasons.

“fine.” your voice is barely above a whisper as you respond. the second quinn hears your response, he’s jumping with joy. a toothy grin takes over his face as he’s yelling out ‘thank you’s’ and other endearments.

“calm down over there.” a big smile takes over your face as you witness a side of quinn you’ve never seen before.

“sorry,” his cheeks flush red. “i’ll pick you up around 5pm tomorrow because it takes an hour to get there and it starts around 6.”

“i can’t believe i’m saying this,” you shake your head, looking up at the sky. “but, alright.”

quinn bids one last farewell and thank you before exiting your apartment.

**

5pm the next day roles around a lot quicker than you expected. your currently sitting in front of your vanity mirror. while fixing your lipstick, you hear a knock on your door. nervously, you put the small plastic tube of lipstick down and walk towards the door.

on the other side of the door awaits a nervous and eager quinn. he wipes his palms on his black dress pants, nervous how he’s going to react when he sees you.

you’d think from the amount of times quinn has seen you dressed up, he’d get used to it. but he never did. every time he sees you in a small, tight, fancy dress, his palms start to sweat and he can barely form a coherent sentence. of course you two never talked enough for you to actually notice your affect on him.

opening the door slowly, quinn comes into your view. he looks amazing. he’s wearing his signature black suit- not caring enough to buy a new one- and his hair is slightly messy. you could barely say the words ‘come in’, shocked at his gorgeous appearance.

quinn’s reaction wasn’t much different. the second you opened the door, his eyes landed on the navy blue mini-dress that dangerously hugged your curves. his throat went dry as he scanned up and down your body. the dress showed just a little bit of cleavage, not enough to be over the top, but just enough to make quinn want to pant like a dog. the material stopped at your mid thigh, exposing your whole leg. god, quinn was practically drooling just seeing this shade of blue on you.

“uh, come in.” you blink a few times, bringing yourself back to reality.

quinn shallows nervously, biting the inside of his cheek and nodding.

“i’m just finishing up my makeup, but i won’t take to long.” you awkwardly smile.

in response, quinn mumbles a quiet ‘ok’ and just nods his head. he was never much of a talker, so you just brushed it off as post party nerves.

with you exiting the room, quinn is left alone in your living room. he slowly wanders around the room, letting his fingertips brush against your fabric couch. different photos that decorated the walls and tables of your apartment catch his eye. he smiles to himself as he picks up a photo of you and emily- your best friend. you must’ve been around 13 or 14 because you and emily both wear the goofiest smile, showing off your different color braces. he lets out a small chuckle. even in your awkward teen phase, quinn was still head over heels for you.

placing down the small frame, he moves onto a different photo. you’re older in this photo. he guesses around 17 to 18. it also appears to be prom night. standing in the middle of a large group of friends, you beam with happiness. quinn vividly remembers this night. something that seemed to slip his memory was the boy standing a little too close to you. his jaw began to clench at the photo in front of him. the blonde boy’s hands were wrapped around your body. your face was flushed as you leaned back against the tall boy’s frame. it’s honestly surprising quinn didn’t whip the framed photo across the room in a jealousy rage.

“quinn?” you call out from behind him.

he quickly places the photo down, turning around to face you.

“are you ready?” he asks, pushing the jealous thoughts in the back of his head.

you noticed his sudden tense figure, confused at what he had just seen, but you just nodded.

leaving your apartment, quinn runs up to the car, opening the passenger door. he wasn’t really sure why he did it, but he made a mental note to do it more because it made you smile.

**

the car ride over was short. you both took the time to make a believable story for how you and quinn went from enemies to lovers miraculously. the story you agreed on was that you both realized that you never hated each other. you were both actually in love, but didn’t want to admit it. that story hit a little too close to home for both of you.

arriving at the hughes’ lake house, the nerves were really starting to set in. once again, quinn ran around the car, opening the passenger door for you and helping you out. the little subconscious movement gave you butterflies in your stomach and a familiar pink blush to your cheeks.

the walk up to the house seemed like forever. neither of you were in a rush to walk into the party. walking up the brick steps, quinn slips his hand in yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze and finally opening the door.

as you and quinn walk hand in hand to the party, everyone’s attention seems to be shifted over to you. you both get sent confused looks and a whole lot of furrowed brows, but quinn pushes through the crowd ignoring them. quinn notices jack, luke, ellen, and jim all standing together and makes his way over to them.

“hey!” you awkwardly yell out.

first, it’s ellen and jim. they’re expressions fall a bit, shocked by the scene in front of them, but they’re quick to pick them back up.

then, it’s jack and luke. jack doesn’t even seem phased as he goes in to dap up his older brother. same with luke. he just stands there with a drink in hand, smirking.

��hi sweetie!” ellen greets us, coming in to give you a tight hug. “i’m glad you could both make it.”

“we’d never miss a hughes’ party!” you beam.

“well i’m glad you two could both come, but i must say i’m a bit surprised to see you here together.” jim is the next to speak up. he mirrors ellen’s greeting by bringing me in a hug.

“yeah, we are too.” quinn blushes, looking at your proudly. the look he gives you could’ve made you faint right there and then, but you keep composure.

the rest of the night consisted of a lot of explaining. a lot of explaining. almost everyone there was confused as of how this happened based on your history, but you and quinn sold the story of your ‘relationship’.

as quinn pulls into the parking lot of your apartment complex, you don’t want to night to end. being this close to quinn tonight really healed your inner child. you got to be with him romantically for two hours. it definitely was enough to make you forget about the past heartbreak he’s caused you.

“quinn,” you say softly.

“yes, love?” his use of the pet name sends adrenaline through your veins.

“what are we going to tell everyone tomorrow?”

the question had been the elephant in the room the entire night. you both had been avoiding it. not wanting this daydream to end.

“i guess that we broke up.” he answers unsurely, rubbing the back of his neck.

“oh, ok.” you mumble. “thank you for tonight. i had fun.”

“thank you for pretending to like me for tonight.” he says, nervously laughing. you fake a little chuckle, knowing what he said isn’t totally accurate.

silence fills the car as you two admire each other. your body is turned towards quinn as his hands rest on the steering wheel.

“i wasn’t pretending.” your words are barely above a whisper, not really intending for quinn to hear, but he does.

“what?” he asks, unsure if he heard you correctly. his mouth is hanging slightly open and his eyes are wide.

“i wasn’t pretending to like you, quinn.” you respond once again. this time you are more confident in your words.

hearing the words again makes quinn fall back in his seat. he looks up to the ceiling of the car in disbelief. ‘was this some prank?’ was all he could think because it didn’t seem real that the girl he’s been in love with since he was a kid was telling him that she liked him back.

“are you serious?” he asks a little harsher than he means to. his tone of voice startles you, causing tears to swell in your eyes.

“um,” you try to hold back the sobs, but once the tears begin to fall, the sobs spill out not long after.

you couldn’t believe you let your guard down like that. he might’ve been acting nice, but he’s still quinn hughes. once an asshole, always an asshole.

“oh no, baby.” quinn coos, wrapping his arms around you. “don’t cry. i didn’t mean it like that.”

“then what did you fucking mean it like?!” you cry out, looking at him through tears.

“i- uh,” he can’t find the words he wants to say.

“save it. i don’t want to hear your excuse.” you mutter. you pull yourself out of his hold, throwing the car door open and stepping out.

the second you exit the car, droplets of rain hit your body, but you don’t care. you storm towards your apartment building, despite hearing the car door shut.

“y/n!” quinn calls out, grabbing your wrist and causing you to spin around suddenly.

“leave me alone.” you growl. your face is painted with aggressive features. your jaw is clenched, eyes dark, and you’re sending quinn a glare that could burn holes in his head.

“just listen to me!” his voice drips of desperation as he practically begs.

you don’t respond, allowing him to continue.

“i really, really like you.” he starts off. “i’m not good with expressing my feelings as you can tell, but i’ve liked you since we met.”

“stop lying to make me feel better. you hated me when we met.” you blurt out, not buying what he was giving you.

“i didn’t, thought! i only acted like i hated you because i didn’t know how to confront the fact that i was in love with you.”

your gaze softens at his confession, still staying silent, allowing him to further continue. you both ignore the rain pelleting against your skin.

“dammit, y/n, i’m totally whipped over you. haven’t you seen that?” he moved his grip from your wrist, to your hand- holding it tightly.

“no,” you whisper.

“your just so gorgeous it’s not fair, and i’ve never felt that way about anyone else. i mean look at you in this dress right now. you are absolutely stunning inside and out. how was i not supposed to fall in love with you?”

“quinn,” you interrupt him. “kiss me.”

he doesn’t waste anytime, smashing his lips against yours. the kiss is filled with passion and pent up frustration. your fingers tangle in his wet hair while his hands find your waist.

breathless, you pull away from the kiss. the rains starts to come down a little harder, ruining your dress clothes, but neither of you seem too fazed.

“you don’t know how long i’ve waited to do that for.” he admits, smiling cheekily.

“you don’t know either.” you attempt to bite back a wide grin, but you fail miserably.

looking up at the sky, and then your soaking wet clothes, quinn laughs.

“we really just had a hallmark movie type moment.” he jokes, wrapping his arms around you.

“i guess so.” you giggled, leaning into quinn’s hold. “let’s go inside.”

[forgeofthenine]

So the tiefling Batchelor trio who's s/o turns out to be a blood hunter. What would their takes be on that?

Hi Anon, this was a very interesting request and I actually had to look into blood hunters as I've never heard of them before! For anyone like me that's never heard of them, I highly suggest taking a few minutes to read up on them. Hope everyone enjoys :)

The bachelors with a blood hunter partner

Dammon

Dammon is easily the one most accepting of his partner being a blood hunter

This man talks about how he misses working with infernal iron, a dangerous and underesearched material that he learned to wield while in the hells

He's in no position to judge you for your abilities and he realises it

Honestly, I feel like he'd be pretty curious about what you're able to do and why you do it

Once you too are quite far into your relationship there are more than a couple nights where you two stay up having deep conversations

You talking about your life as a blood hunter and what drove you to it, and him talking about his time in Avernus

If your abilities or past alter your physical appearance in any way you already know this man is telling you how good you look and how much he loves you

Dammon is always your number one hype man

Zevlor

To be honest, Zevlor thought he'd seen everything already, but seeing you use hemocraft in fights is new for him

He's honestly shocked, especially if you haven't already told him about your abilities

It takes a while for things to settle in for him, particularly when you tell him about the drawbacks of your fighting style, he's particularly worried about you giving up your own health to fight

Zevlor comes to terms with it with a bit of help, despite initially being unsettled

To be honest, the fact blood hunters are often driven away by unsettled people or seen as 'devilish' strikes a cord with him

After years of living through that same hell, there's no way he's letting you go through it anymore

If anyone dares insult you in front of him Zevlor will be throwing hands

You can take care of yourself, but that won't stop your paladin from taking the reins sometimes

Rolan

Now Rolan isn't superstitious, and he's a smart man, but blood magic unsettles him

He's cautiously curious but keeps a certain distance when he first finds out

At least give him a week or so to scour his library for relevant books so he can research

Once he's done, he'll come back with an apology, but don't ask for him to repeat himself lest Rolan tease you for being greedy

Over time he'd like to learn more about how you do what you do, hemocraft in particular being a secretive and misunderstood type of magic

Rolan would want you to help with teaching his apprentices, he'll happily start breaking down the stigma that he unintentionally perpetuated

He's completely unbothered by any changes your magic may make to you physically, as long as you're healthy he's happy

Though, Rolan will still tease you about how you're a 'big, bad blood hunter' and yet you're snuggled up against him reading a book he's picked out for you

[zairene]

nobody else, katsuki bakugou x black fem reader

synopsis: after his constant thoughts surrounding his personality, bakugou begins to question why you would even choose to be with him.

warnings: bakugou actually shows some other emotion other than anger + vulnerability + cursing bc it’s bakugou, come on now.

wc: 958

a/n: this is my first EVER like comfort-ish kinda fic? if this is like corny or shitty writing i’m sorry i’ve NEVER wrote something like this before.. but the idea was cool so i just went with it.

IT WAS NO SECRET THAT BAKUGOU HAD THE TENDENCY to be a huge asshole. it was well known at this point, and everyone had seemed to get used to it. it wasn’t the talk of the class anymore, everyone grew less scared of him and more viewed him as the, hard on the outside but soft on the inside kind of guy.

knowing this, you still decided to test your changes with the hothead. looking for every opportunity to get close to him. whether it would be group projects, making both of your friend groups come close together during lunch, or even just being able to bring his things to him. just any reason to have some form of communication. and you knew bakugou was no dummy, so he treated you like the rest of him.

“fuck off.” was his usual response to you every time you came up to him. at first you probably would’ve been hurt by it, now you just find it endearing. you teased him quite often until his words toward you became normal? he used less curse words, his voice would be softer than usual, and he was nice. well as nice as bakugou can get, at least.

noticing this change, you took the opportunity to ask him out on a date.you expected his answer to be quite defensive and rude. along the words of, “no, why the fuck would i do that with you?”

yet, his real answer was, “sure, whatever.”

and after a few dates, you both had made things official. neither of you had told anyone but mineta had seen the both of you kiss outside of your dorm room before you had gone in one night and he decided to run his mouth to the rest of the class. and when things came out, you both didn’t deny it because there was no point. the news would’ve spread either way somehow because bakugou’s personality drastically changed after he asked you to be his girlfriend.

he never stopped insulting people or cussing them out, but he did it way less than he normally did. he was always more quiet than usual, staring in your direction all the time. watching you laugh with your friends and have fun. it gave him some comfort on the inside. denki kaminari swore he saw a smile creep up on bakugou’s lips one time while he looked at you.

although, behind bakugou’s face, was a mind that was overflowing with insecurities. sure, he was confident in every other aspect about himself. but his personality and how he treated others before you and even you, ate him up inside. he didn’t like that person and started to think that maybe the little shitheads had a point.

he couldn’t help but overhear jirou and ochako’s conversation about him.

“i’m shocked y/n would even wanna date a person like bakugou.” jirou said, while twirling a strand of her hair.

“maybe he’s just a different person around y/n. you shouldn’t really judge something that you don’t know anything about.” ochako came quick to his defense.

“yeah yeah, i know. but he was just an asshole who treated everyone like they were inferior to him. like he was a king or whatever. i just don’t get what she saw in him.” she continued writing down on her paper, oblivious that bakugou had heard everything she just said.

he didn’t get what you saw in him.

“why did you choose me?”

you and bakugou were currently in his dorm, it was day time and you both were just hanging out since it was the weekend. plus, hero training can take a lot out of a person so it was just natural that you both would look for comfort in each other afterwards.

you turned around, looking at him in confusion. he was looking to the side while he fiddled with his fingers. slightly embarrassed that he became so vulnerable around you.

“what do you mean?” you sat next to him.

“i just mean, like… how? how the hell did you like me? i was a dick to everyone, including you.” you sighed and thought for a second.

“because i saw you for who you were on the inside—”

“that’s fucking corny.” he deadpanned. you slapped him on softly on the leg.

“dude, let me finish.” you rolled your eyes. “anyways, i just knew that you weren’t just an asshole to be an asshole. sure, you were rude and i didn’t like it at first but i just got used to it. plus, i knew you started to like me too.” you smirked.

“oh really? how.” he found it hard to believe. he was a master of hiding his emotions.

“you see how you didn’t just flip out on me for saying that?” his eyes widened a little. “yeah, you like like me.” you laughed while you poked his chest.

“yeah yeah, whatever.”

“but seriously ‘suki, i liked you for you.” you scooted closer to him. “and trust me if i didn’t like you, i wouldn’t be here right now. i like your personality. i’m not saying continue to be rude to others, not saying you have, but i know why you do it. i understand. that’s why i ‘chose’ you.” you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in for a hug, which he graciously returned. “and maybe you were just cute, i don’t know.”

“you don’t know?” he pulled back, slightly offended.

“i’m joking.” you pulled him close to you. “you are very cute.” you gave him a kiss on the lips. which made him look away, trying to hide the blush that grew on his face.

“better be.” he said, before pulling you into his arms to cuddle.

TAGLIST :: @kisamekiss @kisminarii @planetlunaa

TAGLIST FORM

[physalian]

The Pronoun Game

*This is not about preferred pronouns, this is writing advice.

I don’t actually know if this is the official term but it’s what we’re going with, otherwise known as contrived vagueness on a character’s identity to keep the secret from the audience.

“You know… ~him~.” “Who?” “HIM.” “One more time.” “HIIIIIIIM!” “…”

Stop doing this. No one talks like this. Or at least come up with a better in-universe code name even if it’s just “the client” or “the target.” Anything is better than this glaring contrivance.

It’s not so much the secret name, it’s how clunky the dialogue becomes without it (ignoring when this is done for humor and supposed to be a little ridiculous).

This is a partner post to how to introduce new characters’ names and the point I’ll be making there applies here: exposition, including new character names, should tell us more about your story than just the information within the text.

But first: just stop doing this. Just name the character. Do it. Audiences will be as confused as if you use a vague “he/him they/them she/her,” but at least they have a name to keep track of, even if it’s faceless at the time they hear it.

It doesn’t even work as a mystery. Characters only play when they’re obfuscating the villain. It’s almost never a red herring. Sure you didn’t say the name, but by deliberately hiding it, you’ve shown your hand.

Real people don’t play the pronoun game unless it’s motivated. So? Make it motivated.

Best example in history: He-who-shall-not-be-named

Why? It’s not just a pronoun, it’s got lore and myths and mystery baked into it. There’s a plot-based reason to be vague. Everyone who says this moniker admits they’re at worst terrified of and at best spiteful of its owner.

I have my own "he who shan't be named" and, can confirm, it's born from glorious spite and satisfying to use every time it comes up.

You can’t copy the epithet, but you can learn from it. Give your characters a reason to be vague beyond preserving the secret for the audience.

Names have power, speaking theirs draws too much attention or bad vibes

Character f*cking hates them, and pronouns them out of spite

Character is being vague to mess with the narrator on purpose

Character fears eavesdroppers and is being careful

Character is testing whether they can trust another by being vague and checking if they’re in on the secret

Character is drunk/high/exhausted and cannot remember the name or care about it to save their life

Optional substitutes here can get quite creative, my personal favorite is “what’s-his-nuts” because I like the cadence but you get the idea

All of these reflect back on the story and the world you’ve built, to give an in-universe reason for the obfuscation.

Now stop playing the pronoun game.

—

Thoughts on the shorter format? I can’t tell if #longpost is supposed to be an insult or not. I have a few of these coming.

[skepsiss]

Modern problems, Modern solutions pt 5

Ooph, it took me a while to get this out. It's a bit of a "transitional chapter" that involves quite a few 3rd parties. I think it's important to see how Eddie feels about all of this and what he thinks has happened. I also think it's pretty realistic for there to be this sort of "divergence" of who is on whose side. Not that I think that's smart or practical, just that is how everything seems to go in High School. Everyone has to take a side, even when the people involved don't want anyone to take a side.

Time for Robin to get maud.

TW: The D-slur (for lesbian), general verbal tussling, lots of insults, lots of swearing.

Pt1 Pt2 Pt3 Pt4 Pt5 Pt6

- - -

Eddie was miserable for the rest of the weekend and had been in a sour mood when he got to school on Monday. He was so short-tempered he had even snapped at Wayne even though he had quietly apologized for it later. Still, more than anything Eddie hated that he was going to have to see Steve at school the next day. They didn’t have classes together, and he had no reason to interact with him if he didn’t want to, but even the idea of seeing his face in the hallway made his expression twist. What an absolute total shit. Steve knew how to be pleasant, how to be nice, and vaguely allude to being your friend, but everything was surface level. He didn’t actually care how you felt–that was a given–but he just didn’t want to make enemies either. It was this snide, fake way of existing, and that bothered Eddie more than anything. Here he was trying to be genuine, and all he had gotten for it was insulted and mistaken for being someone else. Framed as if he was the asshole, or the weirdo in the situation–every situation. Steve had been trying to apologize as if the insult of an apology over something like that would make everything okay. Eddie felt like an idiot. Like a loser. For whatever stupid reason he had thought that Steve didn’t see him that way. 

There was no one at that party that was even remotely in the same social circle as him and now that he thought about it that sort of felt like that was done on purpose. It had been a mistake to show up to the party at all. They were probably all laughing about it behind his back now.

Eddie slouched around the school for most of the day and kept his head down in fear of having to deal with the jock crowd. He had been short with more than a few people, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel bad about that. He didn’t want to give anyone even the smallest chance of an in to make fun of him. He didn’t want to hear even the tiniest jab and he sure as hell wasn’t going to tolerate having to talk to Steve Harrington if it came to that. Eddie’s attitude changed a bit at lunch when he opened his locker and an envelope fell out. There wasn’t much to the letter really, just a simple note that read ’for the weed’ with 30 bucks inside. It had made Eddie frown, but at the very least he felt a bit relieved that he hadn’t been swindled. It didn’t cure his bad mood, but it made him feel a little less on edge for the remainder of the day. It was still no secret that some people seemed to be giving him side-eye as he walked down the hallway, even if no one was doing anything overtly hostile. 

Nothing happened day one, and Eddie felt grateful for that, but he still felt like a tool for thinking for even a split second that Steve and him were compatible. He hadn’t really liked Steve, it was just a fantasy really, even if the fantasy had involved a lot of assumed mutual attraction. It was stupid and he could see it as that now; thinking about it just made him mad. Tuesday was worse; Tuesday was worse because even though most of the day had been benign Eddie hadn’t gotten away home free at the end of the day. It had caught up to him in the parking lot of the school as he had tried to shuffle away from Hawkins’ High. It had caught up to him in the shape of Robin Buckley. Eddie had made it to the far side of the parking lot–far enough away that no one in their car could run him down if they had a mind to do it–but to his surprise, he could see Robin hoofing it towards him. It was club day so seeing Robin out here made it especially odd but he barely had time to register that as he noted the stormy expression on Robin’s face. “Eddie,” he said sternly, not raising her voice any louder than normal. She wasn’t talking as if she was just trying to get his attention, no, there was an edge of anger there as if she was his mother or something. The tone made Eddie sneer slightly and he turned away from Robin to continue walking. “Eddie! I’m talking to you,” Robin said firmly, not quite putting her hands on him, but cutting in front of him to make him stop walking. “I don’t want to hear it, Buck–” Eddie tried, only to get caught off as he watched Robin cross her arms and step into his path once again. “No, you’re listening to me, you’re listening to everything I have to say,” Robin interrupted and Eddie did take pause because of her expression. She looked pissed as hell–face red, the bags under her eyes especially dark–and the rhythmic chanting of the old saying ‘hell knows no fury like a woman’s scorn,’ rang through his mind. “I thought I’d give you a chance to apologize on your own–be a decent person about it, but you didn’t do squat on Monday,” Robin continued, which made Eddie’s expression twist with frustration. “Apologize–” he tried to interrupt, not beyond starting an argument. “Listening for once in your goddamn life,” Robin cursed, keeping steady eye contact, “people make mistakes, Eddie, I get it and you’re a prickly person, whatever–” “Hey–” “What. Ever! Listen! I’m trying to give you some grace here, and you’re lucky that Steve would be pissed at me if I flayed you, so you’re going to settle for listening to what I have to say because sure as hell he isn’t going to say it,” Robin huffed, her teeth bearing a bit. Great. So, this was about Steve. Eddie wanted to hear what she had to say even less now and he sidestepped Robin again only to have her walk after him, not deterred in the least. “You know for years I’ve been thinking oh, Eddie isn’t actually a bad guy, he just projects that image to get people to leave him alone, but then you turn around and do this bullshit? How dare you, how fucking dare you pull something like that and then walk around school on Monday with a chip on your shoulder–” “How dare I?” Eddie asked, whipping around to jam a finger in Robin’s face. “How dare I? You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, Buckley.”

“I sure as hell do,” Robin retorted, seemingly not intimidated enough by Eddie to back down despite the glassy look in her eyes. She was standing her ground and it probably helped that she and Eddie were the same height. She was a tall girl and was potentially stronger than Eddie if he thought about it–not that he was ever going to hit Robin, but jeez her expression made him wonder if she was going to be the one to throw a punch. “Your tough guy appearance and devil-may-care attitude isn’t going to do shit for you, Eddie. Steve is too nice of a guy to say any of this to your face, so I’m going to do it instead. How dare you. How dare you look someone in the eye and laugh at them when they’re trying to tell you something. You think it’s funny? You think it’s funny that Steve has been nothing but nice to you and because he’s an underclassman–or whatever fucking reason–you think it's funny to totally spit in his face? Be a total dick because he made a mistake and thought you were a decent fucking person? I regret sticking my neck out for you. I regret defending you and encouraging Steve to talk to you–you’re such an asshole! I thought you were better than those posturing cliques that toy with people’s emotions for the drama of it all, but you’re not. You’re the exact same as them,” Robin yelled, her voice not loud enough to carry across the parking lot, but loud enough to sound livid and have passersby look in their direction. 

Eddie didn’t understand what she was getting at, but it was making his face red with anger and embarrassment. He was being reamed out. Why the hell was he being reamed out? So, now he was being gossiped about behind his back and having Robin Buckley of all people curse him out? He was being framed as the asshole? “What the hell are you talking about?” Eddie snarled, feeling his chin bunch up with the effort of not crying. He hated that he cried over every goddamn thing, and his attempt to control his tears was the only thing stopping him from yelling back properly at Robin.

“An apology isn’t nearly enough, but at least it’s something,” Robin continued, ignoring Eddie’s protests, “don’t even think about showing your face at Pride Club cause we sure as hell are not going to support anyone being a goddamn bully.” “What the hell are you talking about!” Eddie yelled again, finally raising his voice loud enough for anyone nearby to hear. “You’ve got absolutely no idea what you’re talking about! I don’t want to go to your dumb fucking club ever again anyways. You’re all a bunch of hypocrites. Fucking ‘love and acceptance’ my ass–” “Good! Then don’t come!” Robin shouted back stubbornly. “Sounds great to me!” Eddie declared, throwing his hands up in the air. “Have a great time patting yourselves on the back for being the world’s most gullible dyke.” “You’re a fucking asshole,” Robin chewed, “bye, prick!” “Good riddance, fucknut!” Eddie shouted loudly as he backed up and away from Robin, posturing. He saluted high into the sky only to turn around and flip Robin off as he walked away. She didn’t prolong the interaction and Eddie stole a quick look over his shoulder to see her storming back towards the school. What a piece of work. He was pissed that Robin had been turned against him–not that they were friends or anything like that, but it felt especially sinister to hear from her what tale Steve was spinning about that night. So, he was the bad guy, huh? He was the asshole in this situation? Figures. Steve was a tool. A complete and utter cunt lying to people about what went down and painting himself as the victim in the situation. Why not though, huh? Why not throw your weight around and make everyone else pick your battles? It was easier that way anyway. Eddie was going to be obliterated from the inside out and Steve wasn’t even going to need to lift a finger. 

–

Eddie skipped Hellfire club later in the week, choosing to mope at home instead which got an angry slew of texts from the guys. He had ignored those too and had only emerged when Wayne knocked on his door declaring that Jeff had come to see him. The visit was under some guise that he needed help playing a part of a song he was trying to perfect. Eddie had seen through the rouse almost instantly but he hadn’t said anything. The conversation had naturally moved towards why he was so upset 20 minutes into Jeff’s visit, but Eddie had been grateful to do something with his hands in the interim. He had sneered and scowled, not wanting to talk about it and not wanting to be made fun of, but Jeff had seemed earnest in his attempts to pull the truth from him and eventually Eddie told him everything. 

He didn’t go so far as to say he had liked Steve or anything like that, but he was the same as any guy and he thought Steve had maybe had a thing for him. That seemed far-fetched now, and he had just been holding out to maybe get lucky or something like that–he didn’t go into detail and it didn’t seem like Jeff wanted it anyway. The conversation was clipped and lacked real emotion until Eddie got to the bit about why he was pissed. He didn’t hold back either: telling Jeff how Steve had gotten drunk and then obviously started to flirt with him because he thought Eddie was someone else. How that had been a blow to his ego, but whatever; the real injury had happened when Steve had tried to make light of it all and Eddie had tried to offer a sympathetic ear, but that had blown up in his face. Steve had called him cruel for even asking and had acted like Eddie was pathetic for even trying to talk to him about it in the first place. How cruel it had been for Steve to be pretending this whole time to like him, even just as a friend. That had pissed him off, made him not like Steve, but the worst of it was the fact that he was spreading rumours about him now. He was already a social pariah, what was gossiping about how pathetic Eddie Munson was going to do to him for the rest of the school year? Jeff, in his defense, had tried to keep up as Eddie had explained everything lightning-fast with wayward details. By the end of it all Jeff seemed properly bothered by it as well and had commented on how stupid and lame it was that high school was so clique-y. Steve was an asshole. Steve should have realized that Eddie was just being nice. It was weirdly suspicious that he invited Eddie to his party when there was no one there that he knew. 

Pretending this whole time to be interested in friendship for God knows what reason. And he had come onto him? Only to act like it was a joke in the end? What a tool. What an asshole. What a jock.

Complaining had made Eddie feel a bit better and Jeff getting mad on his behalf felt good. He was being defended properly and he liked that. It wouldn’t matter that much when they had to go back to school the next day, but it at least made Eddie feel like he wasn’t storming into battle without an army at his back. Maybe they were weak and lacked numbers, they were never going to win against the leagues of popular kids, but at the very least Eddie didn’t feel alone in this fight.

Days passed and the news had spread fast through Hellfire. Eddie wasn’t upset about that at all, in fact, it saved him from having to explain everything and he genuinely wasn’t sure he would have been able to talk to Dustin and Will about this. He wanted them on his side and if they remained neutral he’d be fine with that too, but the last thing he wanted was to hear them defending Steve. 

Blissfully, nothing had been said to him and Eddie’s spine had stopped tingling once the week ended. He didn’t feel like everything was staring at him, even if Robin had glared at him every time they crossed paths in the hallway. That was the best things were going to get though and Eddie had no interest in entertaining the rumour-mill.

In fact, he had made it all the way to next Thursday without incident. Or at least ‘incident light’. He had seen Steve in the hallway once or twice, but they had pointedly ignored each other or simply walked down another hallway once they made eye contact. 

Hellfire was on Thursdays and though Eddie’s mood was still low, it felt as if it could be helped along by seeing his friends and maybe throwing a few difficult encounters their way. “That isn’t true!” Someone yelled, and Eddie perked up as he walked down the hallway. 

The school was mostly empty since the last bell, 20 minutes ago at least, and it was odd to hear someone yell this far away from the main classrooms. They hosted Hellfire in the classroom beside the theatre and for ‘special events’ they even got to use the theatre itself. Regardless of all of that, no one really came this way in the school unless there was a performance on or they were here for Hellfire. 

“That’s not what I was told!” The yelling continued and Eddie frowned as he slouched forward. Were the guys having a fight over something? Great. He didn’t want to have to deal with that. He didn’t want to entertain someone else’s emotions when he had simply been looking forward to an easy hang and some D&D. 

Eddie rounded the corner towards the theatre and his expression soured as he saw Robin and 2 other girls talking to Dustin, Will, and Jeff. Talking was a generous word even, they were straight up yelling at each other. 

Eddie stopped where he was in the hallway, not eager to enter the fray, but unfortunately, he was spotted before he could turn tail. “Eddie!” Dustin exclaimed, jabbing his arm toward Robin and getting everyone else to look at him. “Tell them what you told Jeff!” Eddie bunched his shoulders up and frowned deeply, feeling his skin crawl when Robin turned to look at him. He did not want to deal with this. “It doesn’t matter! I don’t care about that–it’s real low though to tell Will he can’t come to Pride Club,” Robin exclaimed, glaring daggers down the hallway at Eddie. “What?” Eddie asked sharply, bunching his shoulders up more. “I never–” “He didn’t bane me,” Will interjected, his voice sounding shrill with anxiety as he spoke. “It’s my choice.” “Your choice because it was heavily implied, or your choice because that’s actually what you want?” One of the other girls with Robin asked, crossing her arms. “Whatever, let them do what they want,” Hannah scoffed, which made Robin shake her head.

“No, that’s so shitty. I’m not going to make you do anything, Will, but know that you’re still welcome, you don’t have to quit just because–”

“Oh, so Will is welcome but Eddie isn’t?” Jeff interrupted. Robin shot him a harsh look and he seemed to back down a bit. “This is why it matters!” Dustin yelled again, “I think you have it all wrong–Steve won’t even talk to me about it!”

“That’s his choice,” Robin replied, pursing her lips, “I’m not here to share his business with everyone.” Eddie clenched and unclenched his hands as he stood in the hallway, feeling frozen to the spot as everyone slung angry words back and forth at one another. It was hard to keep up with and it was making his anxiety spike as he listened to Dustin and Jeff trying to defend him, while Robin and the other girls tore him apart. 

High school was so fucking stupid. This was all so fucking stupid. 

Yeah, fuck this. 

Eddie turned and started walking in the opposite direction. He could walk to the parking lot without passing anyone in front of the theatre; the last thing he wanted to do was walk past any of them. He’d just go home. He’d just crawl back into bed and wait for the blissful ignorance of sleep. “Eddie!” Dustin was yelling at him but he wasn’t turning around and he sure a hell wasn’t going to Hellfire today if he was going to have to sit there with this atmosphere hanging over him. 

He made it as far as the doors before Dustin caught up with him, huffing hard as Eddie pushed his way out into the parking lot. “Eddie–wait up,” Dustin puffed, grabbing his arm as the door swung shut behind them. Eddie jerked away, his anger flaring as he wrestled with the fact that he wasn’t going to ever get a moment of peace ever again. Not as long as he was in school and he had 8 more months of this bullshit to deal with. “Fuckin’ don’t, okay?” Eddie sputtered, not actually mad at Dustin but not having anywhere else to direct his anger. “I’m done okay, I’m done with this bullshit. I’m done. She wants to harass all the guys outside of Hellfire every day, be my guest. I’m going home, I’m not dealing with this bullshit.” “She’s leaving, you can come back,” Dustin explained, which only made Eddie huff a laugh. His limbs felt like rubber as he swayed, not wanting to leave but not wanting to stay either. It was all such bullshit. 

“I’m going home, Henderson,” Eddie lamented, rubbing his hand over his face as he lingered. He didn’t want to walk all the way home but he’d have to hang out here longer if he called Wayne for a ride. “What happened?” Dustin asked, which made Eddie groan as he forced one foot in front of the other and started walking. Dustin didn’t let up and started following him across the parking lot towards the forest behind the school. 

“You know–Jeff told you I’m sure,” Eddie grumped, stuffing his hands in his pockets and rolling his shoulders. “Yeah, but–” Dustin tried, not stopping Eddie but keeping pace with him, “--that doesn’t sound like Steve.” Eddie laughed incredulously, rounding on Dustin and sneering at him.

“What? You think I’m lying?” He asked, trying to keep his eyes from prickling with emotion. 

“No!” Dustin declared, almost too vehemently, “It’s just–maybe you both have it wrong. I don’t know! Steve can be a real idiot sometimes, but–but, when he messes up he owns up to it! He doesn’t–he isn’t vindictive like this.” “Yeah well, tomato-tamato, 'cause I’m living proof that isn’t true,” Eddie huffed, frowning deeply. He didn’t like hearing Dustin defending Steve, but at least he wasn’t making Eddie the one at fault for it all. “No, it’s just–Robin won’t talk to me about it, and Jeff says you told him that Steve was like… tricking you, man? Setting you up for some kind of joke and making fun of you or something like that?”

“Something like that,” Eddie confirmed nonchalantly, not wanting to talk about this, “seemed like it at least. Pretty much called me a villain for telling him he could talk to me honestly cause he was like… upset about something. Said I was cruel.”

Eddie stared down his nose at Dustin, not wanting to budge on this. Dustin didn’t seem convinced, but he was frowning as well as he listened to what Eddie had to say. Dustin was a smart kid, and Eddie could see the gears in his head turning. 

“It just doesn’t make sense…” Dustin lamented quietly. They stood like that for another minute before Eddie turned and continued walking. “Are you…” Dustin started, not following Eddie this time.

“Yeah, go on without me. I’m going to go fall off a bridge to my demise, Belrog style,” Eddie grouched, throwing his hand up into the air in some kind of wayward goodbye. He could practically hear Dustin frowning, but he didn’t turn around and Dustin didn’t follow him. That was both a relief and a disappointment, but Eddie didn’t let himself dwell on that as he marched home on the edge of another breakdown. 

Pt6

[germhammy]

(Mis)Adventures of Little Wednesday- aka Wednesday’s mirror image niece

“Art show - The Wednesdays day out”

Arriving at the gallery site

Little Wednesday: this is so much fun! I love taking the train. Are going to see a show later too?

Wednesday: yes. It’s a secret. Don’t tell your Auntie Eenie I actually like this show. I think you will like it. Your grand auntie Ophelia took me to see it twice. It’s having a revival and I have been looking forward to taking you to it ever since I heard about it.

Little Wednesday: -her eyes lighting up- Oh! Frozen, Auntie Weenie?

Wednesday: yes

Little Wednesday did a little jumpy dance as they got to the doors of the exhibition gallery. Wednesday showed her admission passes. The gallery director looked at Wednesday and the mirror image little girl with her

Director: Ma’am. Your daughter may be too young for this exhibition

Wednesday: my niece will be fine. She reads my ‘gratuitously morbid’ detective novels. We are here to see the work of my cover artist

They entered and walked to the area displaying the art of Manticore Isabella

Manticore: Nes! You made it! And this must be your niece, Wednesday

Wednesday: yes. Wednesday, this is Manticore Isabella. He does the cover art for my novels. Do you have a favorite?

Little Wednesday: -pointing to the large piece behind him- that one!! Blood Reign. Auntie Weenie’s fourth novel!

Manticore: yes. My favorite as well. Which is why I chose to display it behind me. Have you ever seen this, Nes? This is the original art.

Wednesday: no. I have not. May I take a closer look?

Manticore: of course!

Wednesday and her niece continued to look through the gallery. Little Wednesday left her auntie’s side to look at stuff on her own. Wednesday heard her call

Little Wednesday: Auntie Weenie! Come here!

Wednesday found her niece in the maze of paintings and drawings pointing at a very creepy, familiar and triggering drawing

Little Wednesday: it looks like you playing your cello. Can we buy this one?

Wednesday: absolutely not. I would rather throw it in a bonfire and gouge my eyes out than to have this piece of trash anywhere near our house

Little Wednesday was confused

Wednesday: -looking at the artist placards- Artist: Xavier Thorpe Title: Goth girl and her cello. How insulting. ‘Goth girl’ more like ‘Creepy stalker drawing of my boarding school crush’. Come along. We will not be looking at anything more from this artist. Did you see any other artists you liked? Or a particular painting you liked?

Little Wednesday: I liked Manticore’s cat paintings -making a mental note of how much the drawing upset her auntie as they walked away-

Wednesday: show me

Wednesday ended up purchasing a painting of Manticore depicting a rainy night with a large golden retriever protecting a black cat and her kitten from a storm. She purchased that painting for her niece and a few other paintings she thought her mother and father, Pugsley, and Jane would like. She made a note to buy something for her wife elsewhere tomorrow before returning to home. As they left there was a commotion in another part of the gallery

Later while in their hotel room eating dinner before going to the theater, they watched the news. There had been a small fire at the gallery. They were interviewing the artist whose work had been damaged

Reporter: Mr Thorpe, did the fire cause major damage to your works?

Xavier: only this one drawing. Apparently there was an electrical short on one of the lights I had illuminating the face.

Reporter: you seem pretty upset about it

Xavier: yes. You see, I drew this my Junior year in high school. It was quite the year.

Reporter: was this a person you knew in high school?

Xavier: yes. My crush. Wednesday Addams. I still think about her. This was from a dream I had of her back then

Wednesday: oh god. I am going to be sick

Little Wednesday hopped off the bed and grabbed the trash can giving it to her aunt who promptly vomited in the trash can. She hopped back up to sit next to her aunt

Reporter: Wednesday Addams? The author? Were the two of you an item in high school?

Xavier: she was my friend. I lost track of her after we graduated. I thought I meant more to her than I did apparently.

Reporter: Have you tried reaching out to her? I believe the artist that does her cover art is showing at this exhibition. He has displayed one of his covers

Xavier: I have. But I never get an answer. It would be an honor to paint one of her covers.

Reporter: indeed! You watching, Miss Addams? Xavier Thorpe would be honored to paint a cover for you. This is has been Lorissa Paul for channel 3 news

Little Wednesday: that reporter needs to shut her face! Wait. He can’t find you can he?

Wednesday: Jane and her PR team know I want nothing to do with him. His only actual contact with me, our family is/was Granny Hester and that was through his father. We did not invite Vincent Thorpe to the funeral or inform him of her death.

Little Wednesday: he knew Granny Hester?

Wednesday: Granny Hester was a friend of the woman who was Xavier’s Godmother. She died when I was 10. Grandpa, Grandma, myself and your father went with Granny Hester to the funeral. That was when Xavier met me. We did not meet again until Nevermore. Ugh! And I would sooner have you and GJ paint a cover for me than that poor pathetic soul.

Little Wednesday: -taking her Auntie’s phone out of her aunt’s pocket- I am going to text, mommy. Tell her to look out for that guy’s fans

Wedneseday: -chuckling- good idea, El Diablo. And may I assume that fire was not an accident?

Little Wednesday: not very smart to put an electrical light behind such a precious art piece when it’s just paper and not properly protect it. The smallest electrical spark could be disastrous!

[queerfables]

I have this thought that's simmering in the back of my head, and there's some evidence for it, but I simply can't take myself seriously on it, because the idea hits my favourite tropes way too perfectly. I'm, like, 90% sure I should admit to myself that what I actually want is to write fic about this and skip the meta entirely. But apparently this is how I process things these days, so you get my wild projections masquerading as analysis first, and maybe if you're lucky some kind of story later.

So, Nina's partner, Lindsay. Not so much a person as an analogy, right? The consensus is that this relationship is a stand in for Aziraphale's relationship with Heaven, making Heaven the toxic partner holding Aziraphale back from finding real happiness. But the more I think about it, the more I feel like we've taken that assumption and worked backwards from it to prove that Nina is really Aziraphale's mirror and Maggie is really Crowley's.

Look, I realise that drawing the line from Nina to Crowley and Maggie to Aziraphale feels obnoxiously obvious. There are superficial similarities, but does it go any deeper than their general demeanour? When we look at how Nina describes Crowley and Aziraphale - the hard-bitten one who doesn't trust, the soft one who still believes in goodness - I think there's honestly a solid argument to be made that both descriptions could apply to either one of them. I don't think that's conclusive. The thing that's really giving me pause is that Crowley's car and Nina's shop both play Queen. It seems like such a clear signal that they're foils. There's also the fact that the partition around her shop has a very snake-like pattern embedded in it, quite similar in shape to Crowley's tattoo (a detail that pairs nicely with the apple-tree motif on the French restaurant next door).

If Nina is Crowley's mirror, does that mean that Crowley is the one trapped in a toxic relationship? And here's the part where I absolutely cannot trust my brain to give me sensible feedback, because the little gremlin who lives there immediately shuts off all higher functions at the first hint a character might be unwillingly beholden to a nefarious outside force. Especially if they are keeping it a secret.

Could Crowley have been blackmailed or coerced into working for Hell again, despite nominally being estranged from it? I literally could not tell you, because my brain is too busy yelling yes yes yes please oh my god yes. I just love the idea way too much to be rational about it.

I won't insult anyone by labeling this next section "supporting evidence", but here are some ways I think it could fit into canon as it's been established:

In light of my recent meta on how to think about Good Omen's twists, I've been ruminating on some of the big questions I have about season 2. And one of the ones that keeps jostling for my attention is, why are Crowley and Aziraphale not together yet? I don't mean that flippantly, what I mean is - I believe that Crowley and Aziraphale are both aware of the way they feel about each other, and have been for some time. If that's true, what's keeping them apart? Obviously there are quite a few potential answers to this, including the possibility that I'm wrong and they're not both consciously aware of their feelings for each other. But it's an idea I find compelling. They're not together because they're not free yet. And not just in a hypothetical looming threat kind of way.

When Beelzebub summons Crowley in 2x01, Crowley says "I thought we had a generalised understanding." Beelzebub replies, "We don't. You're still a traitor," and then goes on to threaten him with a bounty. The obvious implication is that the understanding they don't have is from the end of season one, that Hell will leave Crowley and Aziraphale alone. But what if it's a different kind of understanding? What if the subtext of Beelzebub's offer for whatever he wants is that he can have enough power to be free of whatever nasty little job he's supposed to be doing on the sly? (Not enough to break free of Hell entirely, though. Never enough for that.)

On the other hand, Crowley doesn't recognise Beelzebub's new face, but they must have been wearing it for a while given all their meetings with Gabriel. Is Crowley bound to the one demon higher than Beelzebub, then? Sorry, the gleeful brain gremlin is the only one available to take questions on this. It sure would be sexy, though, if both the power difference and the secrecy involved were as extreme as possible.

This is a weird little detail that probably doesn't mean anything, but when Aziraphale gets back from Edinburgh, it's early in the morning the day of the ball. The streets are mostly empty and Nina is just arriving for work. Aziraphale helps Crowley put the plants back in the Bentley, and at some point after this, Crowley takes the car and leaves. He must do, because we see him come back. Where did he go? He can't have been gone more than a couple of hours at most, because he arrives back in time to follow Aziraphale around convincing everyone to attend his ball. Okay, fine, maybe Crowley just needed to get away, relax somewhere there's no amnesiac archangel breathing down his neck. But the timeline is so short it seems like a strange detail. It makes me think that Crowley might actually have been hiding something, here. I don't know that this theory is the most likely explanation, but it sure could be an explanation.

And finally, for maximum angst potential, imagine Aziraphale finding out that after everything Crowley said about how toxic Heaven and Hell are, after all the grief he gave Aziraphale for returning to Heaven, that Crowley had been secretly working for Hell all along? WOOF.

[illtakeyoutowonderland]

The One (Part 5)

The one where she explained

Sihtric x Reader

--------------------------------------------

Y/N had never been so happy to be able to wash herself like she was right now.

After Skade left with Haesten, she and Aethelflaed, along with Uthred and his men, had traveled to Saltwic, Aethelflaed's Mercian estate. But that took them days. Days Y/N could no longer tolerate anymore since she had never had to camp so many times in her life, let alone travel by horse. She missed cars. She even missed the bus.

She tried to stay away from everyone as she gathered her thoughts and tried to accept everything. It was hard, though. She could feel Uthred's eyes on her, and along with Finan's and Sihtric's as well. Osferth was the only one who actually talked to her. A few little comments on things, some thank you's as he brought her some food or shared some water. He was a sweet guy, Y/N liked him already, but still was torn between trying to be his friend while keeping his secret from Aethelflaed. So, she did what she did best. Stay quite and away.

But now, after a well deserved hot bath, she felt in a much better mood. She thank the universe for Aethelflaed's commodities on her house, or more like castle. She was given new and clean clothes, too. A simple dark green dress, warmth enough for this weather to her surprise. She brushed her hair and went to find her friend.

She instead found Finan and Osferth, practicing with swords and for a moment she wondered if she could ever learn. If she will ever have to. She got lost in her thoughts for a few seconds when someone from afar catch her attention. 

Sihtric was standing against the wall, not far from his friends, but paying them no attention. She felt guilty for the way she had treated him. Yes, he was infuriating, but she had let her emotions and her own problems get the best of her and she took it all on him. A man she didn't even know. 

She stood still for a few seconds, debating with herself about doing the right thing or ignore her feelings and go spend some time with Osferth. She rolled her eyes, knowing damn well she couldn't let this thing go. So, she walked up to him.

"Hey" She said softly as he realized her presence and looked at her

"Lady" He nodded at her and he watched her from head to toes and Y/N suddenly felt naked. His face showed no expression at all, but his eyes were dark and she even dared to say surprised to see her in a dress or clean, or both.

"Bet I do not look like a Dane in this dress, huh?" She awkwardly smiled and cursed herself for trying to be funny

"You do not, Lady" Sihtric said a little confused

A few awkward seconds passed, both in silence, before Y/N spoke again "So, uhm... I wanted to apologize to you"

"I think you already did, Lady" He said not looking at her "And then you went to pray for your God to give me a new brain, remember?" Ok, ouch

"Ok, so first of all, He is not my god, ok?" She exasperatly explained "And enough with the Lady thing, it's weird and my name is Y/N, not Lady " He looked at her and nodded as if to reasure her he was listening but he honestly he didn't know what to say. Sihtric was more than confused with her, she was so infuriating and could never predict her next move or words, still he couldn't take his eyes off of her. He looked over to Finan who shrugged and continue practising with Osferth. Y/N took a deep breath "What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry for insulting you and slapping you the way I did" She looked everywhere else but him "It was worng of me, you don't know me and I don't know you, and I was scared... I've been scared for the past few months and I took it on you. I don't know what came over me, I'm not like that" Sihtric notice, between her rambling, how her cheeks flushed a little and a few snowflakes that got stucked on her hair. And how she tried to keep her hands busy while explaining and he couldn't think of anything else but how cute she looked "You didn't deserved that, although you were being kind of annoying, but still, I was hoping you could forgive me and like, not hate me? So, yes, I'm sorry for all that"

She didn't dare to look at him, but could feel his stare on her. When he didn't say anything she looked up and found him smirking at her and blushed even harder "I can take a punch, Lady" This time his tone was playfull, ignoring her request to stop calling her like that

"I know" She said and took a few steps closer to him "Doesn't mean you have to"

"I think I'll live" He shrugged 

"But you still do not trust me" She stated "You, Uthred nor them" Y/N pointed at Finan and Osferth who pretended not to listen to the conversation "You do not trust me"

"Skade knows you and we do not trust her"

"But I don't know her" Y/N explained "I've never seen her in my life, I swear"

"You will have to talk to Lord Uthred about that" He started to walk towards his friends

"Are you serious?" She said turning in their direction "Can't make your own opinions without Uthred around?" She snapped

"This is more that just you and me" He said sternly "She cursed us all and you want me to believe you just happened to be around?"

"Sihtric, that's enough" Finan intervined

"She is hidding something, Finan!" 

"I am not!" Sihtric scoffed at her words "I'm serious, what do you want to know? I'll tell you everything, just ask me"

"How will I know you are not lying?"

"Guess you'll have to ask and see" She shrugged

"Ok" He said and stared at her "Who are you?"

"I'm Y/N" She said annoyed, she had said this a million times

"He means where are you from, Lady" Osferth intervined calmly

"And do not say from far away" Sihtric stated before she could give them the vage answers she had been giving them for days

"Oh, uhm" She looked to the floor weighing her options, the three men waiting for her response "I do not know how to explain"

"Lies" 

"You are really annoying you know that?" Y/N snapped at Sihtric and she could see Finan and Osferth grinning

"That's what we been trying to tell him, Lady" Finan said trying to light up the mood but failed

"Where do you come from?" Sihtric insisted "What are you doing here? What do you want?"

"I don't know, OK?!" She snapped louder than she intended, silencing the three men "I do not have a fucking clue why I am here! Wherever the fuck that is. I have no idea how the fuck I got here either, ok? I just am and you will have to fucking deal with it. And I cannot tell you where the fuck I am from because it doesn't even fucking exists yet, ok? I'm not from this time. How the fuck am I supposed to explain that, huh? You will believe I am some sort of witch, which I am not but at this very fucking moment I really wish I was so I could leave this fucking place and go back home and never see your stupid fucking face again!" She tried to hide the tears forming in her eyes, but failed enormously

"Those were a lot of fucks" Osferth said awkwardly breaking the silence she had once again created

"Yes, they were" Finan laughed loudly and the mood changed slightly "You talk to God with that mouth, Lady?" He asked jockingly

"I do not believe in God" She said wipping away the tears from her cheeks

"Then what do you believe in?" Sihtric asked, more calm than before but still wairy from her oubrust "The Gods?"

"Right now I only believe in punching you in the face for making me cry" She said softly, not entirly believing it. Finan snorted loudly and Osferth joined him in his laughter. Even Sihtric relaxed a little

"You will have to apologize again"  A small smirk started to show on his face

"You said you could take it" Y/N shrugged mocking him "And no, I don't believe in anything. I was born and raised a Christian but that didn't work out, so I have no religion now I guess"

"That's sad" Osferth said softly "What is your motivation, then if not God?"

"Men had never been my motivation for nothing, trust me" She said laughing, Finan joining her

"He is not a man, He is God" Defended Osferth

"He is a he" Y/N rolled her eyes and shrugged "That is enough menly for me"

"Lady" a new voice interrupted them and they all turned around to look at one of Aethelflaed's maiden "The Lady Aethelflaed is looking for you"

"Guess we will have to leave our theological debate for later" Y/N joked and turned to follow the woman

"Theo what?" She heard Sihtric ask and Osferth sighing heavily as she walked away with a little smile on her face

------------------------------------------------------------------------

[yennefer-of-vengerbergs]

A little fun, as it were...

...or how Astarion and Syanna end up giving Bhaal the proverbial middle finger when they find an improvised altar for the god of murder.

Takes place in Act 3 (post The Pale Elf), and in terms of my own fics, after Confession (each can be read separately though)

Pairing: Astarion x f!durge

Explicit/18+

Read below or on Ao3

It had become a habit for them, looting a place of all they could carry and might prove valuable. After all, how was a merry band such as their own supposed to earn any money for the supplies  they needed for their adventure? So yes, any abandoned building was fair game for this, such as the one Syanna and Astarion found themselves in.

For all intents and purposes, it seemed like nothing special, simply another empty house just outside of Baldur’s Gate, whatever possessions inside, long forgotten. For the most part, that was the case, with the exception of a suspiciously locked room. Astarion in particular seemed equally pleased and intrigued by it and had set to picking the lock, wondering out loud what they might find there. Jewels? Gold? Jewels and gold?

“Realistically? Probably a corpse.”

“Oh come now darling, just because it happened before doesn't mean it will happen this time.”

Syanna grinned. “Fair enough. Two corpses then, for variety.” 

“How positively dark and tragic of you to assume my dear.I was thinking more in the lines of treasures.” 

She waved a hand at nothing in particular. “There could be. On the corpses.”

Astarion laughed, delighted by the joke, and continued picking the lock. “You truly do put the fun in funeral, darling.”

He did enjoy her humor, twisted as it was sometimes, one of the more subtle hints of her life from before, when the dark urge inside her mind would possess her and make her crave murder and violence. But that was now over, their only concerns left being to defeat the Absolute, cure themselves of the tadpoles and somehow survive the whole ordeal.

But first, loot.

A few more moments passed and the door was finally unlocked and opened. 

Syanna walked in first and groaned immediately. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” 

Astarion followed in and saw what had caused her reaction. An improvised altar for Bhaal, on the opposite side of the room. She assumed it was there from when the Bhaalist murders were occurring all over Baldur’s Gate and in its vicinity. 

It was no secret that neither of them had any kind of regard for the lord of murder, not after everything Syanna had been through. Her oh so loving father had gone as far as killing her when she had refused to become his chosen again.

So this was , quite frankly, insulting, as if someone was being petty at their expense, and it had immediately soured her mood. 

Astarion being Astarion, tried to make a joke. 

Making fun of father dearest would surely cheer her up, at least a little. “Well, I would rather we found the corpses, at least those might have had something valuable on them. Instead, we get nothing but poor decor.” He gesticulated around him, ending with pointing at the objects on the make-shift altar. 

No response.

He tried again. “I mean really, they couldn't pick a god with more taste to do this for? A bit of flair, is that too much to ask? A sense of style? Some actual offerings, not…whatever that is?”

Silence, still. She was staring at that altar, not understanding why, of all the things they could have found, they found this. It bothered her. It bothered her too much. She was free of his influence, her uncontrollable urges a thing of the past. Her mind, her choices were finally her own, and only her own. 

So why was this making her feel anxious, haunted even, as if she couldn't get away, as if Bhaal himself would continue to follow her, despite him tossing her aside in the first place, declaring he had no use for her if she refused and defied him at every turn?

She vaguely acknowledged Astarion moving closer to her, but seemed to snap out of her thoughts and actually look at him only once he was in front of her, gently taking one her hands in his own ones. 

“This is troubling you, isn't it?” 

“I…hm...” she paused for a few moments and then nodded. “I don't even know why it's bothering me so much to be honest.”

“Well, I think I would be just as livid if I saw someone had made an altar for the person that killed me, dear.” He frowned. “Urgh, can you imagine, an altar for Cazador?”

Her own frown deepened. “I would burn that down in a heartbeat if I ever saw one.” 

Truth be told, out of everything and everyone she had faced alongside her companions, she hated Cazador the most and would have been more than willing to inflict the worst death imaginable on him to keep Astarion safe. Even if death was almost too kind for that bastard after everything he had put her lover through. Almost. 

She paused again. “Let's just grab what we found so far and leave.” As tempting as it was to burn the whole place down just out of spite, it would attract too much attention, which they did not need while Gortash was still alive and in control of the city. They had already destroyed his Steel Watch from around the city, so a low profile was in order.

Astarion had different ideas though, mischief already showing on his face. “Now, let's not be hasty, I think there still is something we can do here. Have a little fun, as it were.”

“A little fun” for him could mean anything, from ‘let’s go kill people’ to ‘let's break into all the vaults in the Counting House” (coincidentally, Cazador’s vault was the first one they went to - the bastard was broke before they even had a plan to reach his palace and kill him). Hells, many times it also meant sex.

She raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Oh?” 

He waved a hand in the direction of the room itself, walked to the nearest object - an old urn, not too big, not too small - picked it up and pretended to study it for a moment. “Well, you cannot tell me this place is not in dire need of a bit of redecorating.” He then tossed the urn, letting it break on the ground.

Ah. Vandalizing it is then. She started walking around the room, playing along, pretending to look at everything critically. This would be fun. Astarion always had a way of making things fun. In a chaotic way, true, but she loved that about him. 

“You do have a point you know. Just look at how everything clashes here, ugh. It won't do at all.” She picked up a large bowl on the side and casually threw it to the ground. She did feel a little better as she did that, a small smile already forming.

“See darling, you always understand my vision for a place. Now let's see, what else…” 

*** 

The room was trashed. Broken bowls, urns and cups littered the floor. Chairs and small cabinets had been flipped over. Lamps were thrown and pushed carelessly. Finally, the bloodied bowl from the altar was thrown against the wall, the banners bearing Bhaal’s symbol ripped, candles had been shoved off and landed onto the floor, alongside all the other objects that were scattered across the surface of the altar. 

Syanna was laughing. It felt good to give Bhaal the proverbial middle finger like this. She walked over to Astarion and hugged him, her face nuzzled into his neck, still smiling to herself. She let out a sigh as he returned the embrace, his cheek resting on her head, enjoying the closeness. A few more moments passed until she moved slightly to look up at him, her hand reaching up to his face.

“Thank you for this.”

Astarion nodded, looking at her softly, a smile appearing on his lips, one hand slowly caressing her back, comforting her. 

“Anything for you, my sweet.”

Smiling, she stood on the tips of her toes and kissed him, trying to pour her all affection into it. 

It was poetic, really, how falling in love with a vampire had made her feel more alive than ever, and she never wanted to lose that. 

She broke away, giggling, as she felt Astarion's hands moving lower on her, until they both rested on her ass. He gave a playful squeeze once he heard her giggling, earning him a grin from her before she continued kissing him, slowly, lovingly, becoming more passionate as it continued, stopping briefly only when she needed air, but not moving away from him. She gave him a few quick pecks and finished by playfully nibbling his bottom lip, earning a small laugh from Astarion.

“And here I was thinking I was the only one who enjoyed the occasional nibble.” It was his turn to start trailing small kisses on her face, her mouth, slowly moving lower, until he reached her neck, where he paused and breathed her in before continuing to shower her with affection, adding his own playful nibbles in between kisses. 

It was an intimate, familiar and playful exchange between them, but one they both enjoyed greatly.

Her heartbeat, her breathing were already speeding up as he was doing this, giving away her enjoyment. One of her hands had already wandered up, into his curls, and gently scratched his scalp, earning a soft hum from him, while her other rested on his arm. He eventually stopped, straightened himself up, let his hands wander further down onto her thighs and lifted her up. He spun her around and walked over to the altar they had just vandalized, where he lowered her so that she was sitting on it. 

He pulled her into another kiss, one hand on her neck, slowly moving up, until he reached her ear, which he ran his fingers over, causing a shiver to run through her. Elf ears were always sensitive and erogenous, hers even more so from the piercings she had. Touching and caressing them was always a sure way to have her melt under his touch, soft hums escaping her lips. He stopped kissing her briefly, allowing her to catch her breath again, and returned his attention to her neck (another area that was delightfully sensitive for her), his other hand wandering lower down her body, tugging at her robe and at the belt around her waist. 

“Astarion…” she sighed. “Is this…” she inhaled sharply as he ran his fangs over her skin, careful not to draw any blood. Yet.

He paused for a moment and looked at her in a way that always made her melt. 

That look that always promised wicked things they would both enjoy and sometimes also experiment with (he knew it would always be safe to do so with her; that she would respect his boundaries; that she would always check with him to see if he was comfortable with things, while also not treating him as if he was made of glass - he loved her deeply for it)

“Alright?” He finished for her, his voice a whisper. He moved his other hand to her neck, cradling her with both hands and continuing to look her in the eyes.

She nodded, too caught up in simply looking at him, enjoying just being so close to him.

“It is, my dear.” he kissed the corner of her mouth, then looked into her eyes again. “As long as it is for you too.” He did realize she might not want to continue this here, not with how finding that altar made her feel at first. So he gave her the option to back out, to stop there, to return to their room at the Elfsong and continue there, if she wanted to. Just as she was always mindful of his own comfort, he would do the same for her.

She nodded as she looked at him through heavy eyelids, warmth spreading through her. “Please.” 

Already pleading for him, how deliciously tempting. He smirked and then swiftly removed her belt, her robe falling open. He moved on to the shirt underneath it, slowly unbuttoning it, his lips close to her face, teasing her with their proximity. Once he reached the final button, he moved to remove both her shirt and robe at the same time, but was met with resistance when he tried to slide them down her arms.

Ah. Those damn bracers she had on. 

She had the audacity to giggle at his struggle, a sound that was intoxicating almost, with how sensuous it sounded in the moment.

Frustrated, he stepped back slightly, took one arm into his hands, removed the offensive item as quickly and dexterously as he could and moved on to the other. Satisfied, he returned his attention to her robe and shirt, fully removing them, leaving her only with her bralette on to cover her chest.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, already wanting to feel him closer to her. She closed the distance further by kissing him again. He held her by the waist with one hand, while his other wandered to one of her breasts, cupping it and fondling it gently, slowly, while also tracing her nipple through the fabric. She arched her back into him, breaking the kiss, but feeling too caught up in all the other sensations she was experiencing: warmth slowly turning to heat as he lavished her with his attention, her breath quickening, her heart beating faster, a coil inside her slowly, oh so slowly starting to tighten as he continued touching her. 

He eventually moved back from her and lowered himself, removing her boots carefully, rubbing his thumb on each of her ankles as he did so. Then he raised himself, his attention focused on her trousers, unlacing and tugging at them eagerly, wanting to undress her fully. She moved to get off the altar, standing up, helping him as he finished undressing her. Once she was fully bare in front of him, he picked her up again, setting her back on the altar, kissing her soundly once more. It was her turn to start tugging at his clothes, impatient to just feel him against her, his cool skin against her warm one. She finally managed to get him out of his light armor and was unbuttoning the shirt he wore underneath it, growing more eager with each passing moment. Once that was off, she pulled him closer to her and ran a hand down his cheek, his neck, his chest, his stomach, simply enjoying the feel of him. She moved slightly, and began kissing his neck, delighted with the small noises he was starting to make. His own hands held her in place, not wanting her to move too far away from him. 

Not that she ever wanted to do that. No, she wanted him close, closer, as close as he could be. Her hand wandered lower, until she felt him hard under her touch, eliciting the most wonderful, breathy moan from him. Nothing loud, nothing performative and rehearsed, just his own, genuine reaction. She looked up at him as she continued her light caresses, his eyes closed and head hanging back slightly. She stopped, only to tug at his trousers, wanting to lower them. Gods, she wanted to feel him, all of him with every fiber of her being. Once freed, her hand returned to him, teasing his tip gently before running a finger along the hardened length, paying particular attention to the vein that traveled along it, earning a groan from Astarion. He then looked at her, lust already apparent on his face and in his eyes.

“You wicked little thing…” 

Syanna continued her teasing for a little while longer, enjoying the look on his face and the noises he made while her fingers continued to wander and trace along him. Then she wrapped them around him, a gentle grasp as she slowly moved her hand up and down, still looking up at him through her lashes. He was lost in her already, enjoying each one of her movements, each one of her breaths, each kiss she occasionally placed on his jaw, his lips, wherever she could reach. If it could beat, his heart would be quickening more and more from all the attention she was giving him. 

He placed his hand on hers, stilling her movements and moving it next to her, before grabbing her by the hips and pulling her closer to the edge of the altar. Before anything else, he undressed fully and then knelt in front of her, spreading her legs further, fully exposing her to him. He kissed the inside of each of her thighs, so, so close to where she wanted him, but not close enough. A small gasp escaped her lips when she felt his fangs grazing her skin, her leg twitching instinctively. She was looking at him, how smug he looked when his eyes met hers. 

“ May I? ” His voice was thick, a sweet whisper against her skin.

 And the things his voice did to her when he whispered something to her…

She shivered.

“...yes. Gods, yes, please…” 

He kissed the spot on her thigh one more time before he sank his fangs into it. She gasped, this time louder, feeling the familiar, sharp pain, which then faded into numbness, as was always the case when he fed from her. This, alongside the arousal she felt, were an exciting combination, each sensation complimenting the other for as long as he drank from her. 

Astarion stopped after a few exquisite, delicious moments, making sure to gather every last drop of blood from the marks he left on her skin. His attention then switched to her core as he mimicked what she had done to him earlier, and ran a finger along her clit, her folds, finally teasing her entrance, feeling how wet she was already. He heard her moan and sigh, and saw how she shifted, chasing his touch, wanting more of it, more of him . 

His face moved closer to her, teasing her with unspoken promises of what he had in mind to do to her. 

“Hmm, so needy already…” he ran his finger along her again, applying slightly more pressure, lingering on her swell for a moment longer. He teased and rubbed circles around it, drawing soft moans out of her. 

Then he stopped.

She couldn't help but whimper, already missing his touch.

“Astarion, plea- ahh…” she shivered as he used his tongue instead, teasing her clit and her folds before slipping it inside her, tasting her, then licking his way back up. He slid a finger inside her, enjoying the feeling of how soaked she was for him already. 

He looked up at her, not stopping once, seeing how she arched her back, head thrown back, one of her hands cupping her breast, toying with her nipple. 

He slid a second finger in her, listening to how her breath quickened and how her little moans and gasps continued to escape her mouth as he moved his fingers in and out, slowly, then quicker, then rougher. Her other hand found its way to his head, into his curls, slowly scratching again. Heat pooled inside of her more and more as he continued his ministrations, switching to a ‘come hither’ motion with his fingers, deep inside her, making her nearly see stars, while his mouth and tongue continued to place kisses, to lick, to gently suck on her clit, the bundle of nerves highly stimulated, throbbing, which only made her move her hips, wanting to lean more into him, to fuck herself onto his mouth and fingers. 

She groaned.

She moaned as she felt herself clenching around him.

She felt as if something in her would snap soon, wanting nothing more than that in the moment. 

She wanted the release that only he could bring her. 

“Please, please Astarion…” she couldn’t take it much longer. “Mmm…so close” she could barely think anymore, barely focus on anything else other than him and the way he was making her feel. 

He carried on, eager to bring her over the edge, until she was finally there, gasping, moaning as her climax washed over her, her body shaking and humming from the pleasure. She watched through heavy lids as Astarion removed his fingers from her and licked them clean, still wanting to taste her more than he already had.

“Hmm, delicious…” he sighed.

She smiled at that, just a hint of deviousness there. “Is that so?” 

Astarion, the wicked, smug man that he was, stood up and slipped his fingers inside of her again, wetting them once more, causing another shiver to run through her. 

“Would you like to see for yourself?” 

Gods, he was obscene sometimes. Still…

She nodded slowly and he brought his fingers up to her lips. She took them into her mouth, slowly sucking and licking them clean, looking at him as she did so.

“And, darling?” he smirked.

Smug bastard.

She got off the altar and pulled him into a kiss, rougher than the ones from before. She started moving them around so that their places were switched. She guided him so that he was leaning against the altar, and knelt in front of him, taking him in her hand again, moving it up and down along his length, so hard already. She then ran her tongue over his tip, tasting the precum that was already there, enjoying it alongside the sounds coming from Astarion. 

A groan left him when she took him in her mouth, her head moving as she welcomed him deeper and deeper, sucking and swallowing along his length, enjoying the feel of him in her mouth, thick and hard. Paying more attention to him, one hand was teasing and cupping his balls, while the other was resting on his thigh, only pausing when she needed to catch her breath. Even then, she moved her hand to grasp him again, moving slowly, firmly, bringing him closer to his own undoing with each stroke. Eager for him, she took him in her mouth again, a low moan in her throat when she felt his fingers in her hair, keeping her there, his own moans filling her ears, making her more and more aroused.

A small gasp left her when he pulled her head back, her mouth still open, wetness glistening on her lips. His other hand made its way under her chin, making her look at him. A shiver went through him at the sight of her, so flushed, so willing and ready for him.

“Come here darling.” he whispered, his voice deeper, thicker somehow.

She stood up, her eyes not leaving him as he took her hand in his, moving to lie down on the altar, beckoning her to follow.

She straddled him, but not yet taking him. She held him with one hand, pressed against her lower stomach, stroking him, teasing him, more precum leaking from him. He moved his hips, thrusting himself in between her hand and stomach, trying to urge her to take him in her, wanting to feel himself inside her heat. He placed his hands on her hips, squeezing, another attempt to get his point across.

Her hand left him for a moment as she leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“So impatient…”

He sighed.

“You cheeky little witch…”

She teased his earlobe, before she moved back up, taking him in her hand again and lined herself up with him. She sighed as she lowered herself on him, enjoying the fullness that she felt whenever he was inside her.

She placed her hands on his chest as she started moving her hips, riding him slowly at first, enjoying the feel of him inside her. How he held on to her hips. How his skin felt under her hands. How he looked at her, almost mesmerized by her, by how she moved her body to ride him, by how her breasts moved as she did so and by the sound of her breaths and moans. How he brought one hand up, cupping her breast, his fingers teasing her nipple. 

She brought one of her own hands up, placing it on top of his, keeping it in place, her movements growing faster, harsher. She felt Astarion thrusting up into her, skin slapping against skin, wet and lewd sounds becoming louder between them.

She could barely hold on anymore, barely stand straight, barely go another moment without feeling him fully against her own body. She dropped her hands down, one on each side of him, touching his face, his neck, his shoulders and leaned down, pressing herself as close as possible to his body. Astarion's arms immediately wrapped around her, holding her to him as he continued thrusting in her from below with more urgency. She kissed him, sloppily almost, as she continued meeting his movements with her own, feeling her climax building again, ready to snap the more Astarion fucked into her. They were both moaning and gasping the closer they got, with her clenching more and more around him.  

Astarion was first, unable to hold on anymore, thrusting harshly as he filled her up with his release, his hold on her tightening. Syanna moaned as he did so, chasing her own release, moving just as harshly, almost erratically, until she cried out his name as she came undone, her wetness gushing around him, mixed with his own cum.

She laid on top of him, still joined to him, her breathing labored, both of them too spent to move. She looked at him after a few moments, finding him with his eyes closed, a small, lazy, but content smile on his lips. The sight of him like that made her smile too. She placed a small kiss on his lips, making him open his eyes. He began stroking her back, making her sigh. She placed a hand on his cheek, looking into his eyes.

“I love you, my heart.”

He smiled at her.

“And I love you, my dear.”

Proverbial middle finger indeed.

[indira-korr]

Hiiiii, how about 9, 27, 43, 57 for Red?

Hiiiii friend 🙋 Thank you for the ask. I was planning to get a better feel for Red, and this is perfect, because I can't answer all these off the top of my head. Time to start thinking.

Here is the OC ask game

[9] What is their love language? 

As expected, I did some overthinking on this one. When I hear love language, I have to think of these joke posts about something like “Clone XY is so emotionally repressed, grumbled insults are his love language. Lol” and so on. In that sense, beating the crap out of someone who was mean to Fawkes would be Red's love language. But that's just so very superficial and not really true either. I wanted to look at it more closely, and it turns out, Love languages are a real thing that people know about with different categories 😅 Ooos, I guess I missed that. I thought it was just about how someone shows their affection and love, but apparently it's the other way around and more about what they like to receive.

Then I took an online quiz for Red (and also Fawkes cause I was curious)

Red notices Fawkes' seeming dislike for physical contact and refrains at first, but quickly realizes, that it's different with people he really trusts. So there's definitely more hugging and touching even before they get together. Red appreciates that.

[27] Do they have any scars, how did they get them and how do they feel about them? 

I think Red has quite a few scars, considering he's an almost first gen clone and gets into a lot of physical altercations (I actually listed his “rap sheet” in a previous post). I just haven't exactly decided where most of them are exactly. Scattered on his body somewhere I guess. He sees most of them as natural wear and tear, not unlike scratches on his armor. 

But the only definitive scar he has is the one on his left eyebrow.

In Part Two - En Route I mention its origin. Here's a snippet

Red had met Patch a few months ago, when he’d almost lost his left eye after a near hit by a grenade. The shock wave had shattered Red's T-Visor and shards of it had buried themselves in his face. Patch’s quick and steady hands were the reason he only had a scar on his eyebrow instead of a gaping hole for an eye—well, that and the bacta patches the medic had swiped from the medbay and kept hidden for emergencies. Whenever possible, Red would get him a few of the unused medical supplies after each mission for his secret stash, instead of returning all of it to medical storage. With this emergency supply, Patch had been able to save more than a few troopers from certain death or permanent disability, who would otherwise have been declared hopeless causes and sent back to be decommissioned. 

Unlike the other scars, this one is a reminder that blindly following orders isn't always in the best interest of his fellow clones or the Republic. He is loyal to the Republic, but sometimes feels that his superiors may not always make the best decisions to win this war. Remember that part where the Kaminoan's modified the regs to be less defiant and headstrong than Jango? Guess what's affected by Red's mutations. 😬🤷

[43] Do they enjoy flirting or being flirted with? 

Oh, absolutely not. He tries to hide it and to be casual in his initial rejections, but any kind advances make him extremely uncomfortable. He's never really processed and come to terms with being sexually abused as a cadet. And anyone who won't take No for an answer is immediately and violently dealt with. A lot of his aggressive behavior and image of being a badass is a defense mechanism. He still is a badass, but he also needs that reputation to feel in control. Have I mentioned yet that he really needs therapy? 

I guess, after he's been with Fawkes for a while and starts being more comfortable, he'll feel less threatened and can be a bit more relaxed.

[57] What was the most stupid or dangerous thing they have ever done? 

Wow, where do I even start? 😅 He's done so many things that could result in immediate death (mostly by decommissioning 🫣). May I direct your attention to his “rap sheet” again. And then there's the dangerous missions he goes on. He once used an escape pod that was burning up in a planet's atmosphere to gain stealthy access (with a winged jet pack) to a station over Bespin, only to blow up the repulsors to have it crash and be crushed in the planet’s lower atmosphere. And without having a planned means of escape. That dude is crazy. 

I posted some artwork and a fun little comic page for that mission almost two years ago. 

But I wouldn't consider any of this stupid. The stupidest thing might be teaming up with another cadet for some breaking and entering into the quarters of a Kaminoan to take a dump on their pillow. In their defense, the longneck in question once said that Red’s batch had been ‘an embarrassing display of imperfection that should have been completely eradicated'. I mean… that's just rude. 

But yeah, it was a stupid thing to risk being caught for. It was after his training sergeant mysteriously disappeared 🫣, and Red felt a bit too bold. In his defense, the other cadet (who'll become ARC Trooper Blaze, a total macho poser) totally egged him on. Such a bad influence 😅

[ticklepinions]

I think there's many problems in the community. But I feel like 2 in particular are merging quite a bit. So before I begin, this is in no means supporting or condoning the negative actions of others, I'm just thinking out loud basically, trying to understand why it's a problem and what not. The "explains but doesn't excuse route" to help me process things. My heart goes out to everyone who has been a victim of gro*ming.

So I've had a discussion about certain words being thrown around a lot. Words that are used as an insult, a word that triggers people immediately and follows with loads of hate comments and the classic kys.

While there is most certainly predators and p*dos in the community. I think there's a secret third option that doesn't really get talked about a lot- if at all. And that's "well intentioned adults". Adults who got the spirit! But execute in very questionable ways compared to people who are more, for lack of a better word, mature in their experiences.

I think I was one of them to an extent, but had some incidents that made me have to make decisions that would have been difficult in the past with my previous thinking (will explain later). Personally, my blog was open to all. And I hear the sfw doesn't mean safe for minors which is so true. But I still let minors follow my blog and that was a choice I own up to. Up until a couple months ago I was somewhat ok with it. Until things started happening that made me ✨uncomfortable✨. I got 13 year olds following me, minors trying to initiate tickle talk in asks/dms, trying to befriend me in ways that were just not great lmfao (trying to comfort me if I made a vent post, or in turn trauma dumping in the DMs). And this led to a LOT of reflection. I didn't want to have this responsibility so to speak, of taking care of children, who I have no previous relationship (/p) with in an online setting. So I changed my blog to a dnf. That's just me tho, I curated my internet experience to suit me after realizing that what I was doing or rather passively allowing before, made me uncomfortable. I didn't engage in the conversations that were initiated, it made me queasy lmfao.

But for *other* people. This feeling doesn't occur. You can have the extreme of being so delusional and enraptured in your own personal gains/pleasure as a p*do. Or... Be the self appointed teacher, parental figure etc. Which is a lot like gr*oming (actually it is a sign of gr*oming). It's such a complex issue in terms of the way some adults could have a genuine desire to help and not harm/manipulate but there's this disconnect where the adult doesn't recognize the harms they're causing unintentionally.

There are adults who don't mind being the educator because that's what they needed when they were a child. And I get it! They want to help. But! We've seen what can happen. And I think the reason some people are hesitant with the whole it "DEPENDS on the context" is that you're taking away their ability to *help*. But they don't realize by shutting down those conversations *is* helping. There are very few circumstances where a 30 year old should be speaking to a 16 year old about sexual topics. And in an online context, even fewer. There are SO many resources online that people can use to educate themselves, you do not have to be the sole educator for those slipping into your DMs.

From experience, minors are very impressionable and still have a lot to learn when it comes to boundaries. There was this time one of my friends sent an ask teasing me and then I got flooded by people sending in their own teases. Minors unintentionally (giving the benefit of the doubt) making me extremely uncomfortable trying to befriend me through "innocent" tickle talk. There are other instances of minors as I mentioned before trying to comfort me when I'm venting. Very thoughtful of them for reaching out and all but also they're endangering themselves. There are adults who would easily respond to them and because the adult themselves are emotionally not stable in that moment, may explain their worries to someone they realllyyyy shouldn't be sharing experiences with, sexual or not. The adult has the responsibility in this situation, as they hold the most power in the dynamic. So yeah I'm gonna put the blame on the minors. Gonna hold the adults accountable. Because it's absolutely not okay.

I always say while intentions are cool and all it doesn't really matter much. The impact, and what your actions will be after the fact, holds much more weight.

It's so frustrating to see the same old arguments pop up in this particular community. And I've said it once before, at our core, seeing the recent discourse and posts from both parties I can see the want to keep minors safe. However, there are some people who don't see how their perceived innocent actions are actually harmful in the long run. Not only for minors but yourself as well. You deserve to have a community your age as a healthy support system. What's not okay is the waters being muddied under the pretense of helping other people. You can't fix people, and it's really not your job to do so as hard a pill that is to swallow.

I'm losing my train of thought so...

TL;DR. While there are p*dos, there are also adults who mean well but go about it in very wrong/harmful ways, and I hope that eventually (sooner rather than later) they realize the harms they caused and work towards bettering themselves.

I also want to recognize the extreme privilege I have talking about sensitive topics I don't have personal experiences of so if I spoke out of place or said something incorrect please feel free to correct me (if you have the capacity to do so). Thanks for reading.

[the-consortium]

Dear dr. Bile.

Do you have use makeup? I have been told that quite a few EC are fans, (wich might be a bit of a stereotype) and if you are, what are your favorite? Any tips or tricks?

"You were probably hoping that question would elicit an amusing response from me in the form of a lengthy lecture, huh?" Fabius reaches for his glass, leans back in the deep armchair in the centre of his private library and allows the chirurgeon to fold itself into a more comfortable position so that he can actually slump a little. The slender fingers turn the glass and amber-coloured reflections of light dance across the Chief Apothecary and his surroundings, losing themselves in the darkness between the shelves.

Soft music floods from a few voxcasters discreetly placed in perfect positions. The smell of leather and expensive cigars is a subtle perfume in the background.

Oleander does the same as his teacher and pours himself another Amasec. He takes a small sip, pushes back the impulse to analyse the chemical components of the bouquet and instead lets the spiciness and smokiness be a short, silent prayer to Slaanesh.

He smiles, and there is no request for an apology in it. "It was worth a try, Master. You must surely admit that you take great pleasure in being sarcastic with eloquence."

Fabius nods measuredly. His eyes flash only briefly. "But in this case, completely unnecessary. Because, as much as overdone and artless face-painting may annoy me, make-up done well absolutely fulfils a purpose. Drawing attention is important when the other person is not able - or does not have the mental capacity - to focus on their own."

His student laughs his beautiful laugh in amusement. "You hide insults in the most remarkable places, master!" - "I am a realist."

Oleander raises his glass in Fabius' direction. "I can drink to that."

Some time passes. A servoskull floats up, places a bowl of salted nuts on the small side table, then retreats again. The rustling of the Vatborn in their secret passageways emanates softly from the walls.

"And what do you want your patients to focus on, Master?"

Fabius tilts his head and takes another sip of Amasec: "As I'm a traditionalist and like to wear surgical masks at work - the eyes, of course. As much as most people get on my nerves - in the moments of my work, this intimate focussing is very stimulating." - "I thought you'd put sadism to the side?"

Fabius shrugs his shoulders. "I reserve that for very special clients and very special moments."

Oleander nods, impressed. "A sadist with perfect guyliner."

[mamamittens]

Congrats~! This is for the milkshake event if possible ;u; “Hi! Buggy and I would like a toffee milkshake with cookies and cherries on top. And a red bean mochi as well please! Add pineapple upsidedown cake as well if you have some, if not thats okay!The order is under my nickname Pia, I'm a very plain but kind 25+ girl which brown hair, green eyes, pale skin. I just started growing my hair out and stopped wearing my glasses to avoid looking too nerdy. Thank you!

Done! One more to go!

I uh... wasn't sure who was supposed to get oral, so both of you get it. And it's longer cause I ended up moving scenes and thought a bit of car sex sounded hot, ig.

Hope you don't mind what is likely a slight change of order. Or the delay!

Warnings: Implied yandere/possessive behavior, dom Buggy, Oral (male and female receiving), technically public sex, guided masturbation, talk about sexual fluids in coffee but not done, and technically car oral sex but it's on the hood? idk, I'm sure there's a name for that somewhere.

Word Count: 2,897

Pia hadn’t expected to enjoy her time as a barista in a quaint coffee shop. The sea of terms and ingredients and ‘secret menu items’ making her dizzy during her first few weeks. But it brought in rent money and that’s what really mattered at the end of the day. Even with how insufferable her coworker was, she found herself enjoying the routine.

Never quite the same every day, but still somehow predictable nonetheless.

Buggy—yes, that was his name and he almost deserved it—was the strangest man she’d ever met. Weirdly pretentious but insecure about his nose, he was constantly butting into her conversations as she tried to make good tips. Usually by just being a bit too nice to people. It ended up with a lot of paper slips in her personal tip jar that Buggy would ruthlessly fish out and shred in the garbage while glaring at whoever was brave enough to try.

“How about you tip something actually worth something for once?” Buggy sneered at an older man who ordered a black coffee and seemed a bit too proud of the fact for someone ordering at an artisanal coffee shop. He’d also put in a single, solitary dollar so Pia was uninterested in leaping to the embarrassed man’s defense.

Buggy never stole her tips though, so she didn’t care about the numbers she never got to read. She personally thought it was stupid to put them in the tip jar as well. It only took up room that actual money could be using and discouraged people from tipping her more cash.

“Are you going to insult every customer that tips poorly?” Pia asked curiously about halfway through her shift with him.

Buggy snorted, yanking his ponytail to tighten the elastic, vivid blue hair curling around his fists.

“They earned it. If they’re going to be obnoxious the least they can do is make it worth your while. Anything less than a twenty deserves to be trashed!” Pia whistled.

“Wow. So how many numbers have you kept?” Pia asked curiously. Buggy gave her a confused look. “You made a rule about it, Bugs. Of course I’m assuming you’ve gotten some before.” His face flushed and he refused to look at her suddenly. Pia cackled, almost commenting when the bell jingled in the doorway. A small group walking in and cheerfully chatting away.

“Hey! What fine, cup of art can I make for you today?” Buggy declared, throwing his arms wide and forcing her to duck suddenly. Pia glared at him and resolved to tease him ruthlessly about either his lack of numbers or abundance of them.

Hey, Buggy was weird, but there was no denying he was attractive. Eyes and jaw sharp under the shadow of an ever-present scowl despite his bright red nose. Or perhaps because of it. Unfairly beautiful blue hair that inspired her to grow hers out from a pixie cut. When she first started working here, Pia felt like a forgotten background character. Some poor nerd intended to sulk in the back of a booth instead of serving foam latte art.

This feeling was made worse by how plain she felt with her large glasses. Having done away with those in favor of contacts, Pia had gotten several compliments on her green eyes. Buggy huffed about it for a whole week though so Pia assumed it was because she had a better chance of getting tipped instead of him. It certainly seemed the case because he was now very watchful of how much people tipped her.

When the group left, Pia turned on her heel and grinned.

“So.” She smiled and Buggy huffed, turning his back to wash out some cups.

“No.”

“No? You’re really going to gatekeep how successful you are, Bugs?” Pia teased, hugging him from behind. He tensed, neck red as he growled.

“Clean the damn tables, Pia!”

“Alright, alright! I’ll go clean the tables~ No need to lose your head about it!” Pia declared, pulling away to do her assigned task. Nearly the rest of the shift was tense and awkward as night fell. A few more people wandering in until it was nearly time to close.

Buggy clicked his tongue, glaring at the clock as he walked over and locked the door. Switching off the welcome sign as he did so. Clouds had rolled in a few hours ago and slowly gathered overhead until a steady drizzle pattered against the glass.

“Huh. Looks like a proper storm rolling in. You got a ride home, Pia?” Buggy asked over his shoulder as she wiped down the tables and put up the chairs to sweep and mop.

“Nope. You know I’m still saving up for a new car, Bugs.” Pia declared. He clicked his tongue.

“Fine. We’ll finish cleaning up and I’ll give you a ride.”

“Thanks, Bugs!” Pia beamed, receiving an eyeroll. She glanced at her tip jar and laughed. “Hah! Looks like you missed one! Guess I’ll keep it then.” Pia smiled, fishing out the slip of paper wedged between bills.

Buggy whipped his head around and hissed, stomping over to try and swipe it. But Pia held it away, angling her body to block him.

“Throw that trash away!” Buggy sneered.

“No, why should I? What if I think he was cute?” Pia asked, laughing at how disgusted Buggy looked.

“Cute?! No one who came in today was cute! Are you really going to take some random guy’s number���do you even know who it was?!” Buggy demanded, pulling her against his chest to try and yank her arm closer.

“No… but I know how I can find out~!” Pia sang, laughing as that only seemed to rile him up more. “Man, you’re really bothered about it, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am! That sleeze doesn’t need to talk to you at all!” Buggy snarled, finally yanking her arm close enough to pluck the paper from her grasp. He promptly swallowed it whole.

“Buggy! That’s so gross!”

He seemed to think so as well, given how he grimaced immediately.

“Worth it. Remember, no less than a twenty to even consider keeping his number.” Buggy declared. Pia laughed.

“Where’s my money?” Pia asked. Buggy paused, eyes narrowed. “You know, for keeping yours.” Pia teased.

Buggy huffed.

“That doesn’t count. I’m actually trustworthy of having it. Unlike the losers that come in here panting after you.” He huffed.

“But I thought the privilege had to be earned? I don’t remember you doing anything for that!” Pia primly huffed.

“Actually, you gave me your number first. So really, you owe me.” Buggy stated and his eyes widened in shock.

“Ohoh~? I owe you, huh? What’s it going to take then? What’s Buggy’s price if mine’s a twenty? Fifty? A hundred?” Pia pushed. He flushed, squeezing her closer before realizing what he had done and stumbling back.

“W-Why’s my price going up?! Shouldn’t it be going down?” Buggy asked, flustered.

“Because you’re a catch, Bugs. Duh.” Pia rolled her eyes and sauntered off for a broom in the back.

“A catch?! WHAT?!” Buggy thundered after her into the storage closet, slamming the door behind him. “What do you mean by that?!”

Pia wrinkled her nose.

“Where’s the riddle, Bugs? I said what I said.” Pia stepped back only to hit a shelf, Buggy’s hand slipping around her waist to keep her steady.

For a moment, Pia didn’t realize why he’d stopped talking. Too busy looking at the floor where rags and cleaning bottles littered the floor. The room smelling strongly of bleach.

“Would you?”

Pia looked up at Buggy.

“Would I what?”

“Catch me? S-Since I’m a catch, does that mean—I mean—are you?” Buggy asked, even in the dim light she could see how red his face was.

Pia realized how close they were. How private the supply closet was.

“…If a ‘sleaze’ has to earn the right for me to keep their number, does that mean I should be doing something so you keep mine?” Pia asked coyly. Buggy rubbed his hand over her back, eyes narrowing with understanding.

“You feeling ‘sleazy’ about me, Pia?” Buggy whispered. “We’re coworkers but that’ll cost you… extra.”

Pia chuckled softly, slowly falling to her knees. Her eyes never leaving his as she searched for a sign he didn’t want this.

“Then I guess I better get started on your tip.” Pia smiled and Buggy let out a ragged breath.

“Y-You better.” Buggy breathed out as he tossed away his apron while she slipped off his belt. Tugging his work pants to his ankles along with his boxers.

His cock sprang free with dark blue curls around the base. Thick and curved, the head was flushed a deep red. His hands shook as he cupped her face, grinding the leaking tip across her cheek. She pressed her lips to it and blew softly, chuckling when he visibly shuddered.

“Y-Yeah, b-better be your best work for such a nice privilege, Pia.” Buggy sighed as she slipped her tongue under the heavy tip, sucking it slowly into her mouth. “Ssssshit~!”

His cock throbbed as she gripped his thighs as she rolled her tongue over his cock. Wetting it to slip past her lips with lewd, damp sounds. The thick veins throbbed under her lips as she slowly took him deeper. Relaxing her jaw as his tip dragged over the roof of her mouth before bending to the back of her throat. His breathing harsh and rapid while he struggled to speak.

“F-Fuck, Pia please, I-I—hnnngh~ a-ah!” Buggy whined, his thighs tensing as his pubic hair started to tickle her nose, hips shoving his cock into the hilt suddenly. His hands gripped her head, pinning her in place as he moaned noisily. “W-What a fucking mouth! P-Pia~!” Buggy slowly pulled his cock free from her slick lips and fed his cock back to her lips. Gently fucking her moaning throat.

He tasted salty and warm, a musky growing as his cock leaked over her tongue.

“H-How good of a tip are you giving me? I-I’m about t-to—ooooh shit!” Buggy whined as she gripped his thighs and pulled his body to her. Smashing her nose into his crotch as he threw back his head with a long, low moan. Cock pulsing over her tongue as she swallowed down his cum. “T-Too good, P-Pia! Aaaah it’s too good!”

Despite his protests, he allowed her to finish him off. Both of them gasping for air when she final relinquished him.

“Good enough, Bugs?” Pia asked, batting her eyelashes demurely. Buggy shook his head and a fire of excitement settled in her chest. “No?”

“Too good…” Buggy panted. “I owe you change. But first, let’s move this somewhere I don’t feel my braincells dying.” Buggy smirked.

“Where? This is the only place without cameras and I doubt you want to talk to the manager about committing lewd acts in the workplace.” Pia commented breezily, helping him pull up his pants and tucking his still hard cock back in place. He paused at that. “You forgot about the cameras, didn’t you?” Buggy hissed before something occurred to him.

He grinned, opening the door.

“Let’s clean up and we can go to my apartment.” Buggy declared. “If you do a good job, I can pay you back there.”

Pia’s heart thundered and she raced off with a broom, his laugh following her in a sharp burst.

She’d never cleaned up so fast before in her life. The rest of the closing duties completed by Buggy who seemed just as eager to get out of there.

But when they left, racing to get out of the rain, Buggy clicked his tongue. Stopping her from getting in the passenger side.

“Back. I want to see you without taking my eyes off the road for too long.” Needless to say, she complied. Buckling into the middle seat as he started driving slowly through the rain. “Touch yourself for me but don’t take anything off. I want you wet when I pull into the garage without getting a ticket for public indecency.”

Pia grinned, leaned back in her seat and slipped her pants down just enough for her hand. Her fingers dragged across her clit into a pool of wetness that clung to her panties.

“I’m already wet, Bugs.” Pia informed him quietly. Buggy glanced back at her through the rearview mirror with a smug look.

“Like my cock that much, huh? Still not good enough. I need to hear you from up here.” Buggy commanded. “Make a mess and you’ll get more than just a tip.”

Pia moaned, instinctively rubbing her clit as she struggled to maintain her cool.

“Oh? Like hearing me tell you what to do? I knew you learned well for a reason. I guess it’s time for some extra training~” Buggy cooed, smirk never leaving his lips. “You rubbing your clit for me? Good. Keep doing it. Slide your hand in deeper—deeper, that’s it~ warm your pretty fingers. I bet your pussy is hot right now, isn’t it?” Buggy sat up to look at her lap. Her legs splayed open as she fingered herself to his command.

“Y-Yeah~” Pia agreed softly, sinking her ring finger in deep, heart pounding against her chest.

“How many fingers are you warming up back there?” Buggy asked huskily.

“O-One…”

He clicked his tongue.

“Make it three. Now.” Pia jumped, jamming two more in with a moan. “Gotta work my pretty pussy a little more. We’re almost there. Now, I want you to fuck your hand for me, Pia. Tell me how good it feels to do what I say.”

Her whole palm was soaked, three fingers jammed into the tight, cramped space as she moaned. The meat of her palm grinding against her clit as she rolled her hips up.

“I-It feels good, Buggy. I’m so wet but I can barely fit my fingers. I know you’d do it better though—oooh~!” Pia whined as Buggy abruptly tapped the breaks at a stop sign. She could hear her hand slip and smack over her cunt. “A-Are we close? I-I need it to be cloo—ooooh~!”

Buggy huffed.

“Saying shit like that will get you in trouble. Of course, I could do it better. I’m the only one that can do it right. But I wanted to see you try and get off for me. Can you, Pia? Keeping playing with my pussy, just a few more blocks and I’ll show you how it’s done right. Take off your pants. If you’re not soaking the leather, I’m taking you to your place.”

Pia moaned, struggling to kick her pants into the floor along with her shoes.

Just as Buggy pressed a button to open the garage—Pia barely registered the quiet neighborhood Buggy lived in—Pia spread her thighs and ground against the leather seat. Cunt slipping in a puddle of her arousal.

Buggy parked, closing the garage door with a click before turning around in his seat with a grin. Openly admiring how she stuffed her fingers back into her cunt to show she followed his command.

“I-Is this good enough?” Pia asked with a whine, rolling her hips into her palm as wet smacks filled the car.

Buggy unbuckled and leaned in to yank her hand free with a wet pop. Watching her cream stretch between her fingers and cunt before licking them clean.

His tongue was hot as it wrapped around her fingers, laving across her palm to lick up every drop of arousal.

His eyes locked with hers, dark and hungry.

“Oh, it’s perfect~” Buggy purred, reaching down to unbuckle her before clambering out of the car.

Dizzy, she stumbled after him, neglecting to grab her clothes. Only to be pulled and laid out across the hood of his car. Rain water soaking the back of her shirt and thighs as he parted her legs. Without another word, he swiped his tongue clear up her cunt.

“My pretty pussy, you don’t need those dirty numbers when you can call me anytime.” Buggy cooed into her sopping cunt before devouring her. His tongue driving between her folds and grinding into her clit.

Pia wailed, pulling his hair free as he ate her clean out.

“B-Buggy~! A-Aahhhn~oh~OH~!” Pia threw back her head as he drove his tongue into her cunt, utterly filling the space she struggled to breach with her own fingers. He pulled her waist closer to him as the sound of her wet pussy filled the garage. A wail cutting through the air as she squirted on his tongue.

Her senses cut out suddenly. Returning in waves of static as she trembled, still draped over Buggy’s car as he licked her quivering cunt delicately.

“—only cream I want from now on is right here. I should fix up a cup and let your cunt drip into it. Call it ‘Seventh Heaven’, how about that? Wanna be my little creamer?” Buggy chuckled into her pussy. “I’m the only one who gets to have this, you hear me?”

Pia whined, looking down to see him staring at her with an intense gaze.

“Y-Yeah…” She whispered hoarsely.

“Who owns this pussy? Who's the only one allowed to make you cream?” Buggy demanded, slowly dragging her down the hood until his cock pressed against her cunt.

“Y-You!”

He grinned sharply.

“Me.”

[simulantion]

Best insult I could come up with ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

also

I know I lack imagination

On the side note, why isn't this get another book? I actually eager to read more and wanting to know how it ends, unlike most of the books here (the others that I like are Endless Summer and Ride or Die), and yet because of its cancellation that it was so rush at the end and ruined every great things about this book

The characters actually have deep history and flaws, they aren't one-dimension

Oh the designs are spot on 👍✨ I really like the LIs in this book

The twist at the middle of the story -SPOILER IF YOU HAVEN'T READ YET-

Renza is quite a shock to me because I've read a few books of Choices and yet they don't make any betrayal like this, I thought since Annalisa went into coma in the beginning so they have to put Renza in to replace her as female best friend type (to give diamond outfits), and Annalisa would recover at the end. But she actually has other motives and betrays MC (I did feel a bit ick that she keeps on pressuring MC and even announce MC's engagement before she answers, but I write it off as her eager encouraging type of personality), so yeah, good job PixelBerry on this one

But why oh why do they have to throw everything away? Even the poor bird Astralla only appears to get you to spend diamonds then to never be seen again #JusticeForAstralla

The storyline is interesting and I actually want the MC to let Hunter (Nathan as I named him here) take the crown, since it's quite a leap for her to just now want to help her house and then wanting the crown in the next step, and also they give many reasons that MC can't marry Kayden if she was to become queen (I chose him in this playthrough, might play again choosing Hunter to see what will the reason be), but she was hell-bent on becoming queen (as the plot requires)

and then BAM, "lol I'll give my crown to this rando on the street", not really because he was actually blood related to the previous queen (also I chose not to marry him as to stay loyal to Kayden), and so after everything we've been fighting to get the crown, just to give it up at the end, quite disappointing to me

The book has tag "Magic" and I was hoping for more magic rather than magical mirror giving you dresses and Kayden being able to use a bit to save MC, at least I hope there would be some kind of combination of all the house's items at the end to reveal a secret or magical power

And don't get me started on the plot holes, there are many people already covered this much better than me

So yeah, great start, disappointing ending, if only they continue with more books then it won't be disappointing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Game: Choices: Stories you play

Book: The Royal Masquerade