#i can't believe he hasn't complained yet

[radiance1]

Danny wears sunglasses 24/7.

So much so that slowly it's been ingrained into everyone's minds that he's never taken them off. Like, they can't even remember a time where he hasn't worn sunglasses.

It's just like, his thing.

Why does he wear them? Well, because Danny's previous blue eyes changed to a startling, glowing green that he knows the GIW would eat up and use as a reason to force him into their custody.

Solution?

Sunglasses.

His parents? Oh yea they went all in when he they found out why he was wearing them (Reveal gone right au babyy). They made them extremely durable; they can film audio, take pictures, take videos, see through walls and even track down ecto-signatures for whenever he's tracking down a ghost in human form, see through walls and self-cleaning.

(The ectoplasm tracking system is for when they aren't close enough to set off his ghost sense.)

He honestly believes his parents watched a spy movie before they built him these, but it's not like he's going to complain about it. The only time he isn't wearing them is when he goes ghost, you know as a way to not link him to Fenton or whatever.

So, Danny meets John Constantine while the both of them were on the hunt for a ghost who was causing problems in the area. Danny manages to find them first, the ghost in question being an animal who was terrorizing a place because it didn't understand the fact it was dead yet and wanted to protect it's children.

John Constantine comes while Danny is pacifying it. He watches as Danny calms it down enough to get to the babies and sends it to the Ghost Zone after promising it to get them somewhere safe.

John Constantine also saw his eyes, because he pulled his sunglasses off to show them to the ghost as a silent sign to trust him. John Constantine of course asked what he was going to do with the babies, and Danny just sent them over to Sam.

After that he decided to keep an eye on Danny because of his eyes. Which were the eyes of a ghost, and he was genuinely thinking Danny was possessed before that went out the window. So he thinks Danny is a ghost pretending to be human and wasn't able to hide his eyes so he wore sunglasses.

Danny neither confirm nor deny that.

So Danny just kinda followed him around until Constatine eventually made him into a contact whenever he was dealing with ghosts that he could peacefully deal with instead of just forcefully banishing them to the Infinite Realms.

This, eventually, comes to light when Constantine goes "I know a guy." In front of the whole Justice League, bonus points if they somehow come to the conclusion that Danny is Constantine's secret child, sidekick or both.

[fraugwinska]

Since @chefskjssart's artwork that I commissioned was such a BANGER, I felt like I needed to do something to show my gratitude. So, I messaged her and gave her free choice over a little One-Shot I'd gift her. And that's how we ended up here :D Where are my little TV Sluts at? You can thank Chef - and I hope you all have fun ;>

NSFW - Explicit Sexual Content - Minors DNI - 5.7k words

"Gotta say, Val, the revenue of your movies really skyrocketed this quarter, fuck me."

Vox flipped through the quarterly reports, eyebrows raised and a grin on his face while Valentino, very pleased with himself, lounged on the chaise next to Vox's desk, smoking.

"I told you I've made a good investment." He grinned and blew out a puff of smoke. "All the horny bitches out there are eating my movies up."

"It's more than that, you're even making headway into other rings, holy shit! We've even got a foot in the Lust Ring market, which is almost impossible with that kind of competition..."

Valentino hummed approvingly.

"And the best part: I didn't have to do much." He added and let the tip of his cigarette rest against his lips, his grin widening. "My newest author is a kinky little genius."

Vox turned his attention to the papers again, his smile slowly turning into a frown as he scanned the declining sales in Voyeurscopes.

"What are you talking about? All of your authors write pretty much the same shit, what could be so special about-"

Valentino laughed and shook his head. "That one is - believe me, carino. Poor bitch has the mind of a succubus on crack but she can't get off."

Vox looked up, an eyebrow raised in skeptic questioning.

"Can't get off?"

"Can't feel anything. Can't cum for the life of her." He replied, leaning back and spreading his arms. "Numb like a fucking dead fish."

"Or maybe she just hasn't found a good dick." Vox mumbled, returning back to the reports, skimming over the numbers.

"Mh, you be the judge amorcito. Because I tried." Valentino growled, taking a drag from his cigarette. 

Now that got Vox's full attention. The TV demon stared at his partner for a few seconds of silence, then laughed maniacally, almost falling off his chair while Val rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Fucking weird little thing, she is. She can write the craziest shit, the hornier the better. Writes like a damn porn beast, but has no clue what good sex actually feels like."

Vox heaved, wiping his screen as if in tears.

"Ohoho, Christ on a Cracker Val, maybe you've been out of the business too long… are you maybe losing that golden touch?"

Valentino sneered. "Ay, and you think you would've been able to get that bitch to cum? Be my guest, I'll gladly watch you fail."

Vox grinned at the moth, his eyes dangerously teasing. The reports were long forgotten - this was too entertaining, and Vox loved to be challenged, because he loved the feeling of superiority he felt when he succeeded. And that feeling would be so much more satisfying when he'd beat his long time partner and porn prince of pride at his own expertise.

"Wanna up the ante? Make a little wager out of it?"

Valentino scoffed, then chuckled deviously. He took another drag from his long cigarette, his cerise teeth glistening with red saliva as he began to drool in anticipation.

"You know I like to play, Voxxy. Especially if the odds are so much in my favor."

Another script done.

Your best one yet, if anyone asked you. But you knew no one asked ever, so why bother?

You stood up from your desk in your private office - being Val's favorite pen pet had it's perks afterall.

You skipped the stage of employment where you'd be cramped in one of these horrible cubicles together with the other overworked, caffeinated and tired writers, typing another outdated secretary-fuck-fest-plot while the other employees complained about their last bad lay and the shitty pay.

At least you didn't have to deal with any of that. Your room was quiet and peaceful, the door able to be locked shut and the walls soundproof. No distractions, no chit chat, no loud coworkers or malfunctioning printer noises. Just the humming sound of your computer, and the whirring of the A/C Val had granted you - a luxury that most of your colleagues bitched about behind your back.

You stretched, your tired bones popping into place and you sighed. You were done for the day. Finally.

With the deadline looming over you, you had been a bit late with the last part, and the thought of being late with your work made you sick. But Val pressed for another banger (pun intended) like your last one, 'Dante's Infern-Hoe' and you didn't want to risk the benefits you were offered so temptingly by being sloppy.

But the script for 'The Devil wears Nada' sat now, freshly printed, next to your laptop, the file saved locally and in the cloud, with about an hour to spare still. You smiled, content and relieved. An hour of paid slacking off was nice, and you checked with a glance that the electric door still was set on LOCKED before you flopped down at the two-seater by the window, grabbing the remote from the small side table and turned on the TV.

A familiar voice spoke through the speakers, and you relaxed into the pillows with a small sigh, eyes closed.

As shitty as the program in Hell was, one thing it had going for it was Vox. That smooth, hypnotizing voice of the overlord that held pride's media empire in his claws was a delight to your ears, and even the mindless, overplayed commercial jingles were pleasant enough if he was the one narrating them.

For the millionth time, it seemed, your hand wandered under the hem of your pants, fingers rubbing lazily at your cunt, as you listened to him talk, advertising the latest angelic protection device that didn't do what he promised it to do.

It was insanity at this point, doing something over and over again expecting a different outcome. Every night your fingers were cold and wet with your slick and your clit bloody and raw while you felt nothing of even your most violent and feverish touches, trying for minutes to hours to experience a sensation you wrote daily about without the satisfaction of any remarkable buildup or release.

It was no use, you knew it was a fruitless attempt, just like all the others. The most you got out of your endless tries was a slight tingle one time where you were so desperate you fucked yourself with an electric rod on its highest setting, resulting in a power outage in your apartment and a big fat fine from your landlord a few days later.

Still, you craved it. Craved to one day feel at least something. After the disappointing One-Night-cannot-Stand-the-thought-of-it with your boss, the literal porn mogul you were ready to just give up. If the face of pride’s sexdrive couldn’t get you over the edge, was there any chance at all?

Valentino had been the last in a long line of desperate attempts, paartners ranging from incubi, paid whores, porn actors to even sexbots made by Asmodeus, costing you a pretty penny just for the hassle of trying to get through the return hotline to get your money back, explaining No, you don’t know how it was possible that the cock of the ‘Fuckboy 3.0 XXL’ broke into pieces after one time usage. 

You chuckled humorlessly at the memory - It was truly a pathetic time in your eternal existence, filled with you masturbating alone in bed like a sad porn star, yearning to experience sex like you wrote about in your scripts. Maybe this was hells way to punish you for your sins, your personal plan of torture - To never experience the very thing that possessed you on the daily.

The television droned on in the background, Vox advertising his latest technological developments; new features on your phone that you really could not care less about. Despite his unusual appearance, Vox was one of your absolute go-to Stand-in's for your plot protagonists. Charming, suave, depraved when called for and a dominating, thorough lover that took what he wanted, but with so much skill that his partner would cum threefold before he'd even begin to think about finishing. Cocky and yet sensual. Aftercare included. All the things your colleagues were too dumb to include, no wonder their scripts were a bust.

Yes, it was hell and therefore tastes were more... depraved than in the living world, but that didn't mean the populus secret wishes for some sort of common sexual decency was out the window, goddamn.

Your mind wandered away from your depressive ruminations, your hand never stopping its circular pattern around your swollen clit as your thoughts started to wander to its usual place, the only way that came close to what you longed for and what was the source for all of your best-selling porn scripts. Your boundless realm of fantasy.

'Come out, come out, wherever you are...'

Vox is standing in your doorway, his silhouette prominent against the bright white neon light coming from the corridor of the empty floor. His suit, neatly fitted to every curve of his slender body, is showing just how thin his waist really is, but that does not come even remotely close to describe his broad shoulders and firm, wide chest, contrasting it deliciously. His navy blue skin reflects the harsh lighting in the hallway, his screen sharp and clear, digital eyes never leaving you as he closes the door behind him, dipping the room you're in in darkness, the only source of light his brightly illuminated screen where his digital, mismatched eyes are solely fixated on you, hiding behind the long backrest of your couch.

'Found you, babydoll.' he says with that god forsaken sultry voice of his as he reaches for your throat, long fingers wrapping themselves around your neck as your breath hitches and he pulls you up from your crouched position, his long tongue running over your collarbones, the wet trails feeling as cold on your skin as his appendage feels hot. 'Now remember what I said? Ready or not...'

He presses you into a wall, his big, hard erection rubbing teasingly through the layers of fabric on your already wet core as you whimper with want. '... here I cum.'

You moan his name, the imagined feeling so painfully surreal, and you wished once more that your working fingers would elicit some sort of real, bodily response.

A cough makes you freeze in your movements. Your fantasy shatters like a mirror shot with a bullet and your eyes fly open, expecting to see maybe a dumb segment of a rerun of 'Vox2Nite'. Instead, you see the actual, real TV demon overlord, standing live and in color just a few strides away with an expression that was a mixture of confusion, curiosity and slight annoyance.

"I'd ask if I am interrupting, but it seems you already had me on your mind, huh, doll?"

Realizing that you weren't - in fact - hallucinating, you immediately whipped your hand out from under your panties, sitting up, flustered like a child caught with their hands in the cookie jar. How did he get in? Did you forget to lock the door? No. Did he unlock it?! You must have missed his opening and closing of the door over the voice in your fantasy. The same voice that is now echoing in reality. Oh what a shameful ending for a perfectly good fantasy orgasm.

"Um... shit, sorry, Mr. Vox, sir. I was just, you know..." you scrambled, getting nervous under the actual gaze of him as he folded his arms, waiting for you to end that sentence with a pitiful smirk. Jesus Christ, those arms are slender and muscular…

"Thinking! Just thinking, making script... scenarios..."

"Uh-Huh. And how is that coming along?" He asked, seemingly unfazed by the display before him as he took a few steps towards you.

"Oh, uh, haha, I didn't really... finish..."

He stopped directly in front of you, shutting you up with a low chuckle and his hand around your wrist, the one attached to the hand that had been in between your folds just literal seconds ago, lifting them up to look at the still shimmering wet residue on your fingers with a sneer.

"Mhm. Yeah, I've heard you have some problems with that."

Now that was embarrassing as it was alarming, and you ripped your hand out of his grip. Or better, you tried to do so anyway. It was a pointless exercise, his hand had an iron-tight grasp around your wrist as he pulled you up with one swift motion, so fast you stumbled into him, face to chest, breath caught in your throat as you were made suddenly aware how huge he really was compared to you.

"W-wow, my kinda pathetic reputation precedes me it seems. That's..." just great is what you wanted to say, but all words failed you when he lifted the hand in his grasp to his face, his thick, long tongue slithering out of his mouth just to wrap itself around your digits, lapping up the sticky residue of your arousal, watching you as your pupils widen and you squirm in his grip, mortified and turned on at the same time.

"Eh. Not as pathetic as my business partner's failure to provide something he's built his reputation on, sweetheart. Unusually smart of him to get you under contract before you shout it from the rooftops." He hummed as he tasted you, sucking in the pads of your finger hungrily and without hesitation, and all you could think of, frozen stiff like a deer in headlights, was: What the fuck is happening?

"But Val never had the kind of mindset I have... I don't do failure... or better said: I always finish what I start." His low rasp vibrated in the air around him, echoing in your head, and the heat his voice had brought to your skin left your mind racing. You asked yourself panicking if you had written too many dumb porn plots or if he was really implicating what you thought he was implicating.

"So, whaddaya say, doll..." His breath tickled your cheek as he leaned in closer, pulling you flush against him, a soft grunt of content as his hard dick pressed into your soft belly, his mouth right next to your ear, one of his hands running teasingly down your sides as he licked your ear shell. "...care to see if I can end your unlucky streak?"

'Fuck, yeah.' You thought, and almost moaned out loud as you let your head fall back to make room for his waiting mouth, when suddenly you stopped in your tracks. His hands were already groping over you greedily, squeezing your ass, your thighs, your breasts as he looked down on you, surprised to see your conflicted face.

"W...Wait. What's in it... for you?"

"Mh, you're clever. That's a new one." Vox laughed, his hand running up to the side of your face to cup your cheek, his thumb rubbing small circles on the corner of your lip. "Me and Val made a little bet, you see, and well... Let's just say: I want this to work out just as much as you do, since my success depends on yours."

"Oh.." So Val was talking about you, that bastard. He had you sign an NDA when he hired you, given that you had been unwilling to make a soul contract with him, but you guessed that that had been naively one-sided. Asshole.

Vox stroked your bottom lip, parting them before you opened them slightly on your own accord, his dark blue tongue languidly tracing the edges, waiting for your decision, coaxing you to decide in his favor. And even though you were kind of pissed at Valentino for running around telling people about your... situation - you couldn't deny it was tempting, turning fantasy into reality. And what was another overlord trying to do the impossible? Worst case - he'd try and fail, just as all the others did before, like the stupid moth pimp. At least you'd have some leverage for maybe another good deal for your silence on it. And in the highly unlikely best case…

With your decision made, you flicked your own tongue against his, humming at the unfamiliar taste and the sizzling static electricity on your tongue. Vox grinned, his sharp teeth pressing onto your lips, nipping at the sensitive flesh and growling with approval when your lips parted.

"Ohoho, baby, this is gonna be fun."

Vox ran his claws through your hair, loosening your already messy bun until your hair fell free with his playful pulls as he explored your mouth, deepening the kiss with every lick, until he could push his whole tongue into your mouth, moaning and grabbing the back of your head tightly as you let him fill you without the slightest hint of protest, fighting a desperate losing battle for air.

"Fuck, don't you need to... breathe?" you whispered after he finally pulled back, a wet trail connecting his tongue to yours, grinning down on you while your lungs burned for oxygen.

"Perks of being state of the art, sweetheart." he watched your swollen, drool covered lips - parted to catch your breath - for a few seconds longer before he inquisitively tilted his head. "Did you feel any of that?"

You contemplated lying, but figured honesty would probably be the best in this situation, shaking your head and giving him your most pitiful attempt at an apologetic smile, already bracing yourself for him to give up or get mad. "My lips tingle a little."

"Mh." He huffed as he pushed you back into the two-seater, your back hitting the cushions with a soft thump, and unceremoniously pulled on your very not-sexy-at-all sweatpants and slightly-more-sexy-but-not-quite panties until they slipped over your legs.

"How about this then?" He pressed his knee in between your legs to nudge them apart. "Can you feel any of this?" He spread your already wet slit open to run a cold claw over your hole, softly dipping first one, then two and lastly three of his fingers inside to stretch you further open and push it back in, repeating the movement slowly while keeping his eye contact trained on your face.

You hummed non-commitally, closing your eyes and pressing yourself into the cushions, trying to feel for any sensation that should come with every slow drag of his digits pumping inside of you, and not finding any of it was so fucking frustrating. You felt like you were not only disappointing yourself, but him, as stupid as that sounded. But with every added finger and still a lack of response, you saw the progression of frustrations in his face that you knew all too well - eyebrows furrowed, irritated twitches of the corners of his lips that turned into a snarl with the third added digit. You frowned, sighing and bit your lip - nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing, and fucking nothing again, just another wet hole, the clenching of your walls a habit and reflex only, no pleasure whatsoever.

"It's no fucking use..." you whined, pressing your hands to your face in frustration and fear of looking back into his eyes, "I can't feel anything at a-aaAAH...!"

Your back arched at this strange jolt running down your spine, forcing you to grind down on his hand as a strong electric current buzzed from his claw tips right through your cunt, curling in your stomach in a hot wave of wanton need and knocking the wind out of you. Your eyes flew open just in time to see the flash of victorious satisfaction on his screen before his face turned fuzzy as you began to tear up.

"There's some reaction. There we go, sweetheart." He cooed and curled his fingers in that deliciously sinful way again, making your breath catch in your throat. For the first time since you can remember, you FELT. You dropped your hands from your flushed, hot face onto the plush of the couch, fingers desperately digging into the fabric, and stared at Vox with wide eyes. He winked, nudging his head to his buried fingers, and with a shattering gasp you could see neon blue bolts of electric sparks traveling down his slender arm, crackling around the soft flesh inside of your pussy that had never felt so sensitive.

"How are y-aaaa.... aaa-AAah...." he silenced any questions you might have had or possible retort with another shock wave traveling through his hand as he dragged his fingers in and out in an agonizingly slow pace, it had your ears ringing with white noise and your eyes water with unknown, strange pleasure.

You were shaking, and though it should have frightened you a lot more than it did to be electrocuted while doing something that could be considered borderline treason to Valentino (And it still had your cunt dripping on a whim), but there was nothing left for you to think of other than the sharp shocks making every nerve inside of you buzz, your thighs already trembling in anticipation of the possibility of an unknown, but oh-so-wanted climax. Yet it was somehow still out of your reach, out of your range of senses.

"I feel like we are getting closer, babydoll." The TV demon chuckled darkly, his voice over amplified, the electrical buzz reverberating loudly in the soundless room. "How 'bout we kick it up a notch, huh?"

He pulled out his fingers in a quick, cruel movement, making your pussy clench around nothing as you already mourned the feeling. Before you had the time to voice your loss however, he had your thighs already in his hands, pushing them back to almost fold you in half and spread them apart as wide as he could get them without hurting you. With a smirk he stuck out his tongue, inhumanely long, thick on its base and pointed at the end - and let his electric energy visibly spark around it. Holy Shit.

The moment his head dipped down and his appendage swiped through your puffed, red folds, you could feel your insides buzz in sync to his delighted moan. He began eating you out feverously and obscenely, not holding anything back, just like you wrote your most popular protagonists to do - NO, this was so much better than anything you've ever written or fantasized about, his tongue twisting in patterns that felt like nothing you've ever even came close to imagine before. It was like he powered your whole nervous system, overriding every strand of nerve with his own electricity, amplifying any touch, any lick and any suction that would normally not even register a thousand-fold.

"O-Oh my g... F-fffuuuuhhh-ck.. meeee..." you moaned in confusion and amazement, your legs shaking helplessly on either side of Vox's rectangle head as he fucked his tongue into you, switching between the deep, long, thorough thrusts and fast, small, teasing flicks into the wet heat of your cunt, coating his screen in a shining mix of your natural juices and his blue neon saliva. He sucked at the protruding of your swollen bundle of nerves, your sensitive clit twitching under his attention - it was maddeningly unreal. You felt like a complete, utter sham - if this was sex, you've never written it anywhere correctly.

"I'm working on that, sweetheart."

Vox smirked against your pulsing core, humming with satisfaction at your wet, gaping slit begging for him to push back in and fill you up again, making you ache for his tongue deeper and deeper, forcing every shred of sense you had to leave your mind as you bucked into his grip in desperation, chasing another intense jolt he held just out of your reach as he laughed deviously at your hungry reaction to his teasing antics.

You didn't care how pathetic you looked, how undignified or desperate you sounded. This was nothing short of fucking fantastic, this all new, unknown sensation that you deemed impossible to ever experience and an real, tangible orgasm so close you could almost grab it. You felt a violent greed, you needed more of this, more more more, you needed to cum and you knew exactly that only Vox was able to do it - but you needed him inside of you, pushing you into oversensitivity, no matter what was required to get you over the edge. Fuck all dignity, that ship had sailed the moment your back hit the couch.

You shook your head vigorously, choking down sobs of grateful pleasure that racked your body with every curl of his tongue inside of you and a guttural moan, high pitched and broken.

"P-Please... ah, Pl..please..." you panted and Vox felt for your thighs to hold you steady. His claws sank in with such force into the soft meat of your legs he drew blood. "F... Fu..Fuck me.. please." you stammered and he smirked, a look of pure joy in his digital eyes as he stared you down.

"Oh, I will, baby." He smiled against your core, curling the tip of his tongue around your clit with just the right amount of pressure that your entire vision went blank with a broken cry and the strongest wave of static he'd managed to work you up to so far. "Don't worry about that, I'm not nearly done with you."

He fucked his long, slippery tongue back into your quivering pussy, his thumb taking the place on the sensitive bundle of nerves where his pointy tip had been and you cried out again as he found that one spot you've always read (and written) about. You had questioned it's actual existence, believing it to be one of those wishful myths girls dreamt and you by proxy wrote about - Until Vox and his fucking talented mouth and miraculous tongue brushed right up against it with expert accuracy. It made your eyes roll to the back of your skull, mouth open to cry out as your back arched like a bow string.

"Yeah, there? F-Fuuuck..." The overlord growled, watching your blissful face twist with a new kind of overwhelming pleasure. "You gonna cum for me baby? Come on, let go, good girl..."

You knew the reader-pleasing phrase by heart. You used it a hundred times and fantasized about it even more - It shouldn't have that effect on you, but yet it was that comment of his, spoken in a raspy low rumble directly into your cunt that finally pushed you over the edge, leaving you panting helplessly and cumming.

Hard. Harder than you've ever dreamed about. Every nerve ending on overdrive, every hair standing on edge - it felt like getting struck by lightning, the static electricity sizzling through your blood vessels like a thunderstorm as he was still thrusting that goddamn magic tongue into your spasming hole through the clamping of your muscles, taking you through it with small, measured licks to keep you on the edge a little longer, whines and hiccups mixed with breathless laughs leaving your raw throat as you slowly returned to reality.

This was it, what you've always longed for, you realized after your vision came back to you, staring down at the smug looking TV demon who was still settled between your legs, his glowing screen painted with the remains of your climax. You managed to give him an exhausted smile, blowing a stray strand of wild hair from your face with a quick puff before dropping your head back in the pillow, absolutely spent. Vox pressed a toothy kiss on your thigh and pushed himself back to his feet.

"You've got quite the gushy orgasm, doll, damn..." he wiped a thick blotch of your arousal from the corner of his screen, the neon blue stained fingertip disappearing in his mouth as he hummed appreciatively and licked it away. Then he looked over you, slumped lazily on the sofa, your face flushed, your hair all tangled and the exposed pieces of skin covered with a shiny layer of sweat.

"Shit, sweetheart, you look goddamn good when you're all messed up like that..." He eyed you intently and leaned down, his heavy frame caging you in underneath him, one hand trailing a line from your still heaving chest, between your breasts and up to your throat.

"T-That was.. wow. Just... wow." Clearly illiterate and 50 IQ-points dumber post-orgasm, you cleared your throat, trying to compose yourself. While you were a little disappointed that you still hadn't really fucked, he did what he promised to do. Got you off - and how. You were grateful.

Sad that it was over, maybe even sadder that the chances of a repetition were likely zero - Vox was a goddamn overlord, and who were you other than a nobody with a hard-to-please cunt?- but grateful nonetheless. And you felt the need to let him know that.

"I don't know how to than... w-what are you doing?"

You sat yourself up on the elbows with a dumbfounded expression as Vox began to undress himself, his jacket, bow tie and undershirt discarded within seconds onto the ground and he practically pounced you as he began to undo the belt of his slacks, trapping you in between his legs and under the very prominent hard-on he sported.

"What, you really thought that was it? Make you cum once, win my bet and ding-dong-ditch like a fucking amateur?" Vox laughed as he pulled his massive length out of his pants - Words were your bread and butter but they would ever fail you to describe the gloriousness that was his cock.

Almost as thick as your underarm, smooth and almost shiny, glowing with built-in LED lights along the underside of his shaft and practically weeping with precum. He knelt down on the sofa, taking your hand to run it over its full length, smearing the sticky residue along your fingers, his almost bioluminescent cum dripping thick and slowly from the angry swollen tip. "Fuck no, sweetheart. In case you forgot, let me remind you..."

He leaned down to your ear, a violent electric bold jolting from his cock through your hand right into your overwhelmed, disbelieving brain as he guided you to line him up with your still throbbing entrance.

"I always finish what I start."

Vox had never been in a better mood.

His phone - finally surviving for more than just a few days, since his win against Valentino prevented the moth pimp from smashing it, even in one of his many temper tantrums - buzzed again. A notification of another upload into the cloud. He smirked when he saw the name of the user.

The whole conversation after he fucked Val's writing savant into Limbo and back had been a fucking blast for Vox - he reveled in the morbid joy of cashing in his stake while teasing Val that he'd have to wait another eternity for the chance to make Vox star in a double length porn with him - a fantasy of the moth Vox has been always against. Not to mention that Vox had accomplished what Valentino with all his 'mighty dicks and porn mastery'-aura couldn't. Which (rightfully) sent him into his biggest hissy fit yet, so enraged that, in lieu of Vox's phone to throw against the wall, he threw his newest Robo-Assistant Kitty out the window.

Although Vox had been certain he wouldn't lose the little bet against his partner, he still felt a little relief that his ass wasn't on the next new load of crappy porn DVDs. Granted, that would've surely caused sales to skyrocket - but with his revived and improved little star author that was more than just unnecessary.

Val's fears that a good dicking with a Happy End would sort of break the little writers 'Sex-Spell' and her scripts turn into shite like the rest of Val's useless crew produced proved to be the exact opposite. Ever since Vox made her cum - on his fingers, mouth and cock for multiple times that fateful night - her scripts improved even more, resulting in stellar sales reports, a major spike in cashflow and a personal inquiry letter for a meeting from Asmodeus himself (which Vox contemplated to frame and hang over his fucking bed like a medal of honor).

And since Valentino, in his hurt pride and childish, stubborn pettiness refused to speak or fuck with him, Vox had no qualms of paying his little writer a few more visits. Every time he found impish joy in finding new ways to make her cum, and after one shag-date where he actually stayed long enough for an after-sex-cigarette and some smalltalk, he discovered that she wasn't just a kinky, but also an interesting bitch with great taste in whiskey and a crude sense of humor that was just up his alley.

"I'm curious doll." Vox said as he took another drag from the cigarette before he handed her the bud, throwing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her onto his bare chest as he lounged on the new, bigger sofa he got for her office (more space and much more versatility) "What the fuck did you do to end up in hell? You don't seem like the ax-murder type."

She chuckled mischievously. "I was a pretty popular crime author back upstairs. I hit a pretty bad writer's block, and decided to get in some field work to inspire me for more creative ways of murder. No axes, but I did have a fable for knives." She grinned, inhaling the thick smoke as he laughed and the way her tits pressed into his skin had him almost hard again. "You know what's the most ironic part?" She asked, putting the bud out in the ashtray on her side table and glanced back over her naked shoulder to him, a devious glint in her eyes. "I got the electric chair for that." That woke his cock fully up again, and he couldn't help but take her for another round.

His assistant babbled something about his schedule, but Vox didn't listen. Instead, he planned on visiting her office again, maybe he'd even stay after and order sushi for two, who knew? The media Overlord smiled smugly as he opened the database and looked over the newest script you had uploaded to the cloud. It was when he read the title that he burst into ringing laughter.

'Electrocutie - One Big Cock Shock'

[wannaeatramyeon]

Lookism x Reader: Simps

G/N. Gun Park, Ryuhei Kuroda, Jake Kim. Just stupid and silly.

Goo calls Gun a simp.

He says it mocking and derisive as if it is something to be ashamed of.

Maybe it is. Gun doesn't know what a simp is. Goo opens his mouth and most of the time only shit comes out. Gun isn't about to ask and neither does he care.

"Wrapped around Y/N's finger," Goo sneers and that, Gun understands.

Maybe that's true too. He still aims a punch at the blonde's head.

.

.

Leaning over Gun's shoulder, you peer at the search box and chuckle, "Simp? Why are you searching for simp?"

"I'm researching what it means."

"Huh." Your brows knit together, wondering how he came across the term, when this is the kind of person who likes to text in either simple emojis or full sentences and no inbetween, has no idea about pop culture references and terminologies, and you had to teach him what the eggplant emoji actually meant.

A lightbulb goes off.

A Cheshire cat smile creeps over your face, " Did Goo Kim call you a simp?"

Gun turns towards you, traces of annoyance on his face, "He did."

"Well, aren't you?"

He looks down at the definition of simp again, doesn't really understand why it's meant as an insult, when at the crux of it, for Gun, it's simply someone attentive and devoted to their partner.

Gun grumbles, but he supposes: Yes. For you, he is a simp.

.

.

Kenta and Ryuhei are Executives.

Part of the exclusive club of Senior Management at Workers yet they both wait patiently in line at the coffee bar as their assistants (and yours) fidgets behind them.

"They're worried," Kenta murmurs in his native tongue.

"Why?" Ryuhei glances over and indeed all three appear concerned.

"That you think they can't do their jobs."

"It's just a coffee." Ryuhei shrugs, "Anyone can get a coffee."

"Exactly," Kenta wonders if he's being deliberately obtuse. "And it's expected that assistants get the coffee. They think they're doing something wrong because you're here."

"I know how Y/N likes their coffee."

"So does their assistant."

"I know precisely how Y/N likes their coffee."

Kenta sees the beginnings of a sulk, Ryuhei's bottom lip starting to jut out and the furrow of his brows, and sighs.

Ryuhei is being deliberately obtuse. It's not even a particularly adventurous order. Even Kenta knows how you like your coffee, having unfortunately been dragged here by his friend enough times. 

They both shuffle forwards.

"One large Americano. No sugar, no milk," Kenta demonstrates, rattling off your drink of choice to the barista. 

It's difficult to get wrong.

Ryuhei gasps dramatically at Kenta stealing his thunder, and receives an eye roll in return. Who cares about who places the order? Ryuhei is going to be the one that hand delivers the coffee anyway, then hang around you all afternoon being a nuisance.

"You're such a simp." Kenta complains.

Any hint of indignation disappears, and a wide cheerful grin spreads over the blonde’s face.

"I know!"

.

.

For someone of Jake Kim's size, he can be surprisingly sleuthy.

He pokes his head into the room, where the majority of his inner circle sits, hears both his and your name being mentioned and his ears perk up.

Oh?

With quiet, measured movements, sneaks over to the table, and slides into the empty space between Jason and Jerry.

"-I can't believe he is such a simp!" Brad chuckles.

"He really is," Jason agrees.

Jake leans forward, "Who is?"

Lua rolls her eyes, "Jake!"

"Me?"

Hasn't this guy kept up with the conversation? "Yeah, obviously!" Lineman adds-

And then eyes widening in shock, recoils sharply. As does the rest of the table.

Jake?! When did?! How?! What?

An uncomfortable silence descends, festers, stretches taut-

Snaps, when Jake raises his eyebrows and asks the group, "I'm a simp, huh?"

Jerry, his ever loyal sword, speaks for the first time. "You are."

Jake considers it, thinks about himself, thinks about you and his eyes soften. He grins, toothy and lovestruck, "I am."

[shogunish]

𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗴𝗼𝗷𝗼𝘀 & 𝗶. [𝟬𝟭]

pairing. single dad!/dilf! gojo x f! reader

genre. fluff, comfort, slice of life

contents. megumi is gojo's biological son, non-curse! au, language

words. 1.4k

summary. when satoru struggles as a single dad, he's more than thankful when the new neighbor wants to help him out.

note. just a fun little series that i talked with @cinnamonmon about 🫂 also i'm not dead, just lurking in the shadows

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

previous || next

when you move into your new apartment, you never expect the sadness of a child to fill the dead of night. soft sobs seep through the walls that are as thin as paper, it seems. otherwise, you wouldn't wake up with heavy eyes and half the mind to silently complain about the kid crying next door. with a groan, you check the time: 11 pm. you let your head drop back into the plush of your pillows, arm draped over your eyes as a sigh slips your lips.

sure, it's normal for children to cry, you know that much, but you would give the world up if it meant that the kid shut–

the sound of a key opening a door catches your attention. is the kid's parent just now coming home from work? that is either irresponsible or a very tragic situation. either way, you swing your legs out of bed, quietly approach the wall separating you from your neighbor and press your ear against it.

such matters are none of your business. and yet, your heart breaks.

"there, there. papa is here now, buddy." satoru speaks in soft tones as he enters megumi's room and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. the mattress dips underneath his weight.

white hair is a mess, the toe around his neck loose and a couple of buttons popped open. satoru is as tired as megumi looks.

"where were you? i've waited all day for you, papa." megumi is quick to crawl into his father's arms, burying his face in satoru's chest where he sobbed quietly and refused to let go of his dad. it's likely one of those nights in which satoru would share the bed with megumi, his little bundle of joy (even though the boy is scowling most of the time).

in that moment, satoru hugs megumi a little bit tighter as if it could make up for lost time, hoping that his true feelings somehow got through to the little kid in his arms.

failure is the only thing satoru ever feared when he became a dad and he feels like he's doing a phenomenal job at neglecting his son. satoru wants to be there for megumi, for him to have a good life filled with even better memories and friends, but here he was, crying for his dad who is gone all day and night, stuck in an office that keeps him prisoner every fucking day. it's not fair, he thinks.

a father is supposed to raise his child, love and nurture it, yet..and yet..

you swear you can hear the voice of the man living next door choke up like he is on the verge of tears himself.

when satoru hears three gentle knocks in the morning, he expects the old hag to be behind the door, telling him to control his son or else she'd file a noise complaint. but instead, a pretty woman stands there, a nervous look on your face and a platter of homemade cookies in your shaky hands.

right..the new neighbor who moved in just a couple of days ago. satoru hasn't seen you around before, but you certainly are a sweet thing, looking all shy and nervous. if he didn't think you're there to complain about megumi crying last night, he'd smirk at you and maybe flirt a little bit.

"hey, uhm..i know this might be weird, but may i talk to you for a second?" your voice is soft like velvet and yet, satoru can't help but believe that your next words would be against his son. because of him.

quickly, you lift up the platter of freshly made cookies and let a smile tug at the corners of your lips. "oh yeah, i made cookies, too!"

satoru can't quite make sense of why exactly you show up at his doorstep in the morning, but you..don't look like trouble if you bring cookies. "..sure, come in."

with a nod of your head, you thank satoru and enter the surprisingly cozy home. pictures of megumi and satoru hang on the walls, shelves are filled with books, photographs and souvenirs from travels. it doesn't take a genius to see that the furniture is rather expensive and you silently wonder just how much satoru earns to be able to afford it. maybe you shouldn't touch anything. just in case.

you're ripped out of your thoughts when a wet snout sniffs you and you're greeted by two dogs, one with black fur, one with pristine white fur. just behind them stands megumi who regards you with a somewhat unimpressed look; completely different from the child you heard last night.

smiling, you offer megumi a warm cookie and kneel down to his height. he is an adorable little thing, you think to yourself. "here, have one. but don't let the dogs eat them. chocolate is bad for them, you know?"

the boy looks at his father who nods at him and finally takes the cookie. "thank you..," he mutters and is quick to hide the candy from his dogs that were already regarding him with those infamous puppy eyes. you can't help but laugh.

a smile tugged at the corners of satoru's lips at the view. affectionately, he ruffled through megumi's hair. "go play with the dogs, megumi. the adults need to talk, okay?"

negumi..pouts. "..fine.." even though he doesn't look too satisfied with his father's words, megumi calls his dogs, kuro and shiro, and goes outside in the garden.

once megumi is out of earshot, satoru's face morphs into a more serious expression. sitting down on the couch, he offers you the seat next to him, cerulean eyes stare at you over the rim of his pitch black shades. "so? what is it you wanted to talk about…?"

"[name]," you fill the gap with a kind smile on your lips, putting the platter of cookies on the coffee table. you don't quite know where to start. your concerns, your offer..it is more than just odd. a beat of silence fills the air while you fidget with your fingers, but satoru doesn't seem to mind as he allows you to gather your thoughts.

"it might sound really weird, but..i heard megumi cry last night and..," you trail off, pausing. "..it sounded like you were struggling.."

"..huh..?" satoru's eyes widen at your words. his cool exterior..it cracked.

you suddenly go on an awkward ramble, telling satoru about how megumi woke you up at 11 pm, how you heard the key in the lock and decided to listen in. "what i'm trying to say is.." a soft sigh slips your lips. "..i don't think you're doing this on purpose and if there's something, anything i can do to help.."

satoru glances outside where megumi plays with the dogs, crumbs of your cookies around his mouth and the ghost of a smile on his little features. giving his little treasure into the care of a stranger should be a no-go for any father who loved their child, but..you look like you really wanted to help with those round eyes of yours staring at him so pleadingly. if you hadn't been genuine, you wouldn't be sitting on his couch and offering your help.

a small, humorless laugh escapes satoru's throat. "megumi's mom left me right after he was born. balancing a full-time job with a kid..it makes me feel like i'm the worst father to walk this earth."

satoru took off his shades, letting you see the sky in his eyes. he pushes his messy bangs back, sighs and even though he still looks stressed, the tension in his shoulders leaves as if he shed a small part of the burden placed upon him.

"i don't think you're a bad father. just an overworked one who needs a hand." and when you say those words in a voice so warm that it rivaled honey, satoru can't help but see the light at the end of a tunnel.

at least one person knows he's trying for megumi. even if that person is a stranger, it felt..good to be seen and heard. just what are you, satoru thought. heavensent? an angel? too good to be true? maybe all of the above.

"..do you think you could watch over megumi tomorrow?"

a grin settles down on your features, crinkles the edges of your eyes and lets a little blush bloom on the apples of your cheeks. "of course!"

taglist. @ayanominitrash, @torusmochi

[volklana]

If Only You Could See Yourself Through My Eyes

Titles Comes From This Song:

Request: I have an idea for a one-shot with Sihtric for the future, where the girlfriend doesn’t allow him to tell his friends that they’re dating, and he starts to feel sad, confronts her, and discovers that she feels too ugly to be with him.

My darling wangjiangelangel I really hope I did your idea justice and I'm so sorry for the long wait ❤️❤️

Warnings: Reader is definitely struggling with self image issues, possibly body dysmorphia- If that's not something you feel able to read right now there is no pressure you can catch me next time xx

Sihtric collapsed down on the bed beside you trying to catch his breath. 

He placed his forearm over his eyes as he came down from his high. 

You padded into the kitchen to fetch a glass of water and he watched you in awe as you walked back to bed. 

“How did I get so lucky,” he mused and you felt the heat rush to your cheeks, unable to take the compliment so you brushed it off. 

You snuggled into Sihtric’s chest, your ear pressed against his skin, you listened to the steady beat of his heart, as he absentmindedly ran his fingers up and down the naked skin of your back. 

You could not quite believe that you got to be with him like this, by some fluke, or mistake from the universe you got to love him. 

You had been friends with Sihtric for years now. You had been there for all the heartbreaks, all the great loves, all the situationships and by some utterly divine mystery he had chosen to pursue you. 

You, who had carried a flame for him from the very first moment you met him. 

Who had accepted your place as his friend and expected nothing more from him. 

Until his last relationship failed and he made a point of pursuing you. 

“I think the reason it's never worked out with any of these other girls,” he confessed into the darkness one night “Is because it's always been you. All this time it's been you.”

He'd sat up suddenly to look into your eyes “I thought I was so protective of you because you were my friend but it's always been so much more than that hasn't it?”

You wanted to believe that was the case with all your heart but your head told you it was simply because he had exhausted all his other options that he now found himself in your arms, in your bed. But you weren’t complaining, you were just happy that you got to share this time with him.

“When can we tell the guys?” he asked, disturbing your inner thoughts, ear still pressed to his chest. 

“I don't want to keep lying to them,” he sighed “I don't want to end every night out in separate taxis just to end up in the same bed anymore. It feels dishonest and I don't want to hide us anymore.”

You sighed and traced a finger along his chest “Can't we keep it between us just a little while longer? You know how the guys are, they will be all up in our business and I would just like you to myself that little bit longer.”

He smiled a beautiful and shy smile, but relented. 

“Just promise me we will tell them soon. I'm beginning to think you're ashamed to be seen with me.”

Your heart sank into your stomach because it was very much the opposite, you did not think you were good enough for Sihtric in the slightest. He looked like he was carved from the gods, his muscles were no joke and his mop of dark curls framed his face in a way that made him look angelic. But his tattoos and fashion sense gave him that bad boy edge that made girls go weak at the knees, you had witnessed it first hand, you were one of those girls. You saw the effect he had on women, you saw the way they desired him and for some reason you hadn't quite figured out yet, whether it was humility or ignorance, Sihtric either paid no heed to it, or simply didn't notice. 

You on the other hand, your love life before Sihtric had been nothing short of tragic. 

You had been cheated on, ghosted, broken up with and humiliated more times than you cared to count and it had made you somewhat jaded. 

Sihtric had been there for you through each breakup, back when he was just a friend, he had gotten into fights with exes on your behalf and you couldn't understand why he hadn't run for the hills yet like all the other guys before. But here he was after months of sneaking around, falling asleep in your bed, wanting to be honest with his friends about your relationship. 

It was a few weeks before Sihtric broached the topic of telling his friends again and you froze on the spot. 

“Come on, it's the Christmas work party babe, everyone is bringing their significant others and I want to bring you as my date I want to show you off. I even got you this, thought maybe you might like to wear it. It might make you feel special, because you are to me.”

He pulled out the most stunning, sparkly dress you had ever seen and your eyes immediately began to water.

“Sihtric it is beautiful,” you gushed, running your fingers over the material.

“You are beautiful,” he mused and his eyes lit up, “Go ahead and try it on I’m dying to see it on you.”

As you spun around in the sparkly dress in the mirror, Sihtric burst into the room, eyes wide in pure joy as he placed his hands over his mouth, “Oh my god you look incredible!!” he mused coming to spin you around, he watched you almost with childlike wonder and then he took your hands in his “We are going to look so incredible together!” His excitement was absolutely contagious and that was how you found yourself agreeing to go to the Christmas Party with him and finally being honest with his friends about your relationship. 

Walking up the steps to the swanky bar, you suddenly wanted to tuck tail and run, and Sihtric seemed to sense your anxiety.

He gripped your face in his hands and stroked your cheeks lovingly, “Hey, don’t be nervous, it’s my friends and they love me and they will be so happy for us.” he reassured, and you leaned up to kiss him, despite the nerves.

You were Sihtric’s friend, of course you had naturally hung out with his friends once or twice but you were far from close with them, and every time you had met them they had been nothing short of lovely, but you could not shake the fear that they would reject you once they knew that you were together.

That they would somehow see what you knew to be true, that you were not good enough for him.

Sihtric spotted his friends already gathered, drinks in hand and with a hand on your lower back he directed you towards them.

“Hey guys, you remember y/n right?” he asked and without warning Finan surged forward and pulled you into a bear hug, “Of course we remember,” he teased spinning you around “Ya haven’t stopped talking about her since the day you met her.” 

You were still giggling as he placed you down, and Gisela stepped forward to pull you into a gentler hug, “We have always known he had a thing for you,” she said softly, “He never stops talking about you.” 

“He is smitten,” Uhtred chimed in, shaking your hand kindly when Gisela stepped back.

Osferth, always the more reserved, just smiled shyly your way.

“I am smitten,” Sihtric beamed, coming to slink his arm around your waist again “And now I can finally tell the whole world about it.”

You felt your cheeks go red and the anxiety began to stir in your stomach again.

Suddenly Sihtric’s hands felt too heavy on your waist and you began to feel too warm.

“I’m just going to pop to the bathroom,” you announced jittery, and dipped out from under his arm and made your way to the nearest restroom in a hurry.

You rushed towards the sink, splashing cold water on your wrists to try and cool yourself down, forcing yourself to take some deep breaths.

Sihtric was deep in conversation laughing with Finan about something stupid when Osferth began scanning the crowd looking for you.

“Is everything okay with y/n?” he whispered into Sihtric’s ear and then he too was scanning the crowd for your face.

He bumped into you just as you were exiting the bathroom and he looked at you worriedly.

“I just…I just needed a breather,” you lied, patting your sweaty hands on your dress.

“A breather? Y/n we just got here,” he was trying not to sound annoyed but you could hear it in his voice.

“I know- I know, I’m fine now let’s get back to your friends.”

The drinks were flowing and you really did try to have fun, but the truth was you just felt so uncomfortable. Every time you saw a woman look Sihtric’s way your heart fell a little, even though he never once placed his eyes on any other woman except you and he always found some way to keep his hands on you.

You made small talk with Gisela and found yourself in a debate with Finan about football, both of you talking animatedly over each other until he jokingly put you in a headlock because he could not admit defeat, your squeals of laughter caught Sihtric’s attention and he demanded that Finan let you go, you took that opportunity to dig him into the ribs and he was left momentarily breathless and dropped you immediately.

As he was bent over trying to catch his breath he pointed a finger straight into your chest “I really like this one Sihtric. You better not fuck up or I’ll swoop her off you.” 

You laughed and Sihtric laughed too but there was a hint of jealousy behind his laughter.

You finally felt yourself relaxing when Sihtric’s boss Alfred made his way over to your table with his wife. From Sihtric’s stories you knew she was meant to be a piece of work, so you tried to make yourself as small as possible in her presence but she still singled you out anyway. 

“You are quite different than the last one he was with aren’t you?” she sniped, and you felt your cheeks tinge red.

“She worked on Fleet Street right, in Financing?”

“I believe so,” you answered shyly.

“And what exactly is it that you do?” she shot.

“I’m a freelance photographer,” you answered shyly “And I take shifts in my local pub to make up the difference.”

She scoffed a laugh and regarded you from the corner of her eye “So not bringing much in terms of value to the relationship really if you’re not able to make ends meet. I suppose you will be relying on Sihtric’s money too then?”

Your nostrils flared in anger, you wanted to snap at this bitch but Sihtric’s honey laugh pulled your attention to where he was sitting and you felt your anger dissipate.

She had only spoken aloud what you had known to be true from day one, you were not good enough for that beautiful force of a man, he laughed again and you couldn’t help the sad smile that spread out across your face, as you excused yourself out onto the balcony for some air, grabbing a free flute of champagne as you passed.

Sihtric was once again frustrated to find that he could not find your face in the crowd, he called your name, pushing through bodies on the way to the bar and he was still coming up short.

He finally spotted you through the glass doors out to the balcony, leaning against the railing, staring absentmindedly up at the skyscrapers across the London skyline.

“Y/n, what are you doing out here?” he snapped but he didn’t mean to, “I feel like I’ve spent all night looking for you and you’re nowhere to be seen. This was supposed to be fun, our first night out together officially as a couple and I feel like you’ve been avoiding me all night.”

You stiffened, and took a deep breath but your hands were shaking and you refused to face him.

“I’m sorry Sihtric,” you whispered, voice small, and he instantly regretted sounding so harsh.

“Talk to me. What’s going on?” he hushed, reaching out for you, alarmed at the tears in your eyes when you finally turned to face him, “What’s wrong babygirl?” he soothed, taking your hands in his.

“Sihtric,” you cried. “I don’t think this is a good idea anymore. Us. We- we’re just not suited, you deserve so much better than me and what I can give you.” 

Hurt flashed across his face and he reached out to cup your face “Hey, where is this coming from?” he shook you a little and you just retreated further into yourself and doubled down. 

“It’s for the best,” you continued, still refusing to meet his eye.

“Don’t do this here?” he cried “Please, let’s go home and talk about it. Please?” he begged. 

“Please baby,” he begged again after you didn't relent, placing his forehead against yours.

“Sihtric, no,” you sniffed, untangling yourself from his grip and pushing him away to create some space.

“This whole night I have been trying to be perfect for you, trying to make myself someone that your friends would deem worthy of you, and I’m failing because the truth is- The truth is and I’ve known it all along is that I don’t deserve you. Your friends can see that. Your boss’s wife can see that, I don’t know why you can’t.” 

“What are you talking about, not good enough for me?” he looked exasperated, and tried to reach for you again but you shrugged him off.

“You forget that I’ve been here for it all. All your exes that could have been models. All the successful girls who had nice apartments and were good for you, and I can’t compare an inch Sihtric, it’s why you kept me as a friend for so long, that’s the truth. And you just don’t want to admit that so I’m doing it for us both.”

Sihtric took an involuntary step backwards and his back collided with the railing behind, he ran a hand messily through his hair and you both stood in silence for a moment.

“Do you love me?” he finally broke the silence, leaning his whole weight on the railing behind him, your eyes snapped up to examine him and his mismatched eyes were already boring into yours “Do. You. Love. Me?” he enunciated each word, and you nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks because you couldn't lie to him.

“Yes, I love you but it doesn’t change anything, I can’t change myself” you cried. 

“I don’t want you to change a thing,” he pleaded, voice raised “I fucking love you. You are the most beautiful woman I have ever known, inside and out. You are the reason those other girls are my exes, how could I ever fully commit to them when I was already in love with you! And now what you’re telling me that you think you are not good enough for me? Well you don’t get to decide that for me. You don’t get to tell me that I can’t love you, because I do! There is no one else on this earth for me but you,” he was angry and his chest was rising and falling rapidly as he tried to control his temper. 

You looked at him, his face stern but hurt at the same time. 

“I just feel like I am letting you down all the time. Like my career, my life, my looks are not enough to earn my place by your side. I was so afraid that once we went public, someone else would make you realise that and you would leave me. I just thought if I ended things first it would hurt us both less,” you finally admitted.

“That’s why you put off telling my friends?” he asked softly “I thought you were ashamed of me, but it was the other way around this entire time?”

“Sometimes, I feel like the ugliest person on the planet,” you confessed, now it was truly time to start being honest with Sihtric “There are some days I can barely stand to look in the mirror and I can’t understand why someone as beautiful as you would even want to look at someone like me, let alone be with me.” 

Sihtric sprung forward cupping your face in his hands and forcing your eyes up to meet his, “It’s crushing my heart to hear you talk about yourself like that. From the moment I met you I have thought you were the most beautiful woman on this earth. Earlier you made a jab about me leaving you in the friendzone and that was partly true, not by your reasoning but because I was so afraid to be rejected by you I chickened out of pursuing you for years. Y/n if you could only see yourself through my eyes you would see what a stunning, kind hearted, creative and strong person is looking back at me right now. But if you can’t believe that for yourself can you at least give me the chance to try and make you see?” 

You nodded in his hands and he leaned in to kiss you.

“I’m glad you were honest with me in the end about what has been going on in that beautiful brain of yours, but please don’t ever talk about leaving me again, I couldn’t bear it.”

You leaned up onto your tiptoes to kiss him again, when the balcony door opened and a loud Irish man stumbled out.

“Everyone thought ye were gone!” he shouted “I said ye were fucking in the bathroom, but ye hardly did it out here for all to see did ye?”

“And you missed it all,” you teased “We literally just put our clothes back on,”

Sihtric laughed in your arms as Finan picked you up, “I’m doing shots with this one, are you coming?” he tossed you over his shoulder and your laughter made Sihtric sigh in relief, the tension of the last few minutes flowing out of every pore.

“Put her down Finan!” he shouted after the form of his retreating friend as you reached out to try and grab a hold of Sihtric's hand.

You stumbled into your apartment having done one too many shots with Finan and forcing Osferth to dance with you on the dancefloor, spinning him around so much he was nearly sick.

“I think I found my new best friend,” Gisela shouted into Sihtric’s ear over the loud music, and he gave her a squeeze in joy.

“She was so worried you guys wouldn’t like her,” he told her honestly.

“It’s not always so easy to go from friends to lovers,” she reasoned. “It’s a different dynamic. Be patient with her. You knew you had feelings for her all this time, but she didn’t.” 

“Okay let’s get you to bed,” Sihtric laughed when you started hiccuping, and he picked you up bridal style carrying you to bed, and placing you gently down.

He went to fetch paracetamol and a glass of water, “Take these my darling, it will help with the hangover in the morning.”

“Good girl,” he mused when you swallowed down the glass of water, and you curled into him.

He brushed his fingers through your hair and placed a kiss to your forehead “I never want to hear you say that you don’t think you are good enough for me ever again,” he stated in a way that told you not to argue.

“You are the best thing that ever happened to me and I will never let anyone say anything bad about you again, including you!”

You chuckled at that and he smiled too, “Tell that to the voice in my head,” you slurred and he laughed out loud “Oh I plan to, every day for the rest of our lives!” 

Tagging:

@canyonmoon-2 @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @whitedarkmoonflower @thenameswinter99 @foxyanon

@acdassenza @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @gemini-mama

@troyottonick @alexagirlie

a-beaverhausen nebulamorada izzydlb knight-of-flowerss

justcuriousandbored

[panpanghost]

part 2 of this thing:

Macaque heard them coming, Wukong's new friends. They were here when he first woke up, actually the strange kid was the first person he saw when he opened his eyes. The little fella looked so scared and worried about him, he even promised to find a way to save him no matter what. Such a nice kid.

But, he doesn't know who the kid is... After he left last time, Macaque asked Wukong about his identity but Wukong, strangely, just looked at him shocked and never gave him an answer, after that Macaque got the idea that he lost a part of his memories.

Macaque has been trying to get his memories back, but it's like shovelling through a mountain, he can't remember anything from the past years, he can't tell how long it's been. He tried asking Wukong about it, but, for some reason, Wukong is lying, he knows he's lying. He tells him not to think about it too much and just enjoy the present, Wukong won't answer no matter what he asks, he'd either avoid the question or lie.

But Macaque doesn't doubt Wukong, he knows he still cares about him, sure he was acting weirdly when Macaque went to sleep and shower with him, but he didn't kick him out or throw him away... he was acting strangely though... maybe... maybe they aren't that close anymore, maybe they drifted apart and haven't been together for a long time and Wukong is letting him stay because he feels bad for him-

No, no that can't be it, if it were the case then Wukong would've straight up told him to leave and he hasn't done that yet, in fact he's doing the complete opposite, he won't let Macaque leave his sight let alone the island. He's also been a lot more physical... not that Macaque is complaining about that... but still, that is not how you treat someone you want to get away from.

Maybe he can ask the kid, but would that upset Wukong? Shit... He can't stay like this.. Damn it. He'll deal with Wukong when he has to.

_"Hey Wukong, your friends are coming. Should we go greet them?" he asked playing with Wukong's hair, under the shadow of an old tree,

_"They are?!" Wukong got up from Macaque's lap dusting and putting himself together as if he was caught doing something he shouldn't. What's with him? Macaque doesn't remember Wukong being the shy type. No, Macaque is they shy one, Wukong used to have fun tormenting him in front of others.

_"Yeh, they'll be at the house any minute now."

_"Alright, thanks for telling me."

_"No problem, let's go see them, I'm actually kinda curious to know what that kid found out about the crown. All the monk said was that he felt a dark energy from it then nothing else."

_"Yeh.. about that. Why don't you just stay and rest a little more. I'll talk to them."

_"What? Why? It kind'a concerns me, don't you think I should be there?" Macaque is really starting to lose his temper,

_"Actually.." think Wukong, think! "When they first arrived here, you attacked them thinking they were enemies, and.. well... you guys don't get along that much..." would he believe that? it's not entirely a lie though..

_"oh- ok... I'll wait for you then." Macaque feels really bad, did he really attack them? but they seem so nice. It's really upsetting him, after what he'd done to them, they are still trying to help him, he should apologise, maybe make them some apology sweets, Macaque can't cook but he for sure can make killer desserts.

_"Hey, don't feel so down about it, I'll be back soon, ok?" Wukong feels a little bad for upsetting Macaque, but this is for the best, yes, it's for the best... is it?

_"ok." Macaque gave him a little smile. He should listen to Wukong, it's not like he can remember what he's apologising for. Wukong will take care of it.

[madhatterbri]

Christmas Confession | B.Z.

Summary: Blaise's mother passes away a few months before Christmas. He goes missing around the holidays and ends up at your door.

"Have you heard from Blaise? The last thing I heard was he took his siblings to have a proper Christmas with their grandparents at the beginning of the month. Now he is just gone," Pansy complained in your livingroom on Christmas night. Her high heel covered feet were crossed at the ankles. Her heel leaving an annoying tapping sound against your wooden table. She was slouched on the couch and didn't appear to be leaving any time soon. She took another sip of her spiked eggnog in annoyance. The lady was never one to not be in other people's business.

"Pansy, you know he and I aren't exactly best friends, right?" You asked hoping it would remind her that the two of you hadn't been a couple for a while. "Remember? I came to your house crying in the middle of the night just a few months ago? I slept in your bed? Does that ring a bell?"

"Couples break up all the time and get back together. Remember all the times Draco and I broke up?" Pansy asked with attitude. She finished her drink.

"You two never got back together," you pointed out feeling cruel since that girl was in love with him since first year at Hogwarts. "Blaise and I had our love story and the fairytale ended. He is probably just using some of his mom's money to travel the world before having to parent his siblings,"

"You know he loves his brothers and sister more than anything. This isn't like him. He would have told one Draco, Theo, or I," Pansy informed you and crossed her arms. You opened your mouth to speak but she put her hand up. "I am leaving. Let me know if you find him or call me when you want to be a friend again,"

She left her now empty glass on the table and left you with your thoughts. Guilt washed over you. She was right. He would never go anywhere without telling someone. You walked to your room seeing the picture of you and Blaise on your nightstand.

The picture showed a young, happy couple. Blaise peppered your head with kisses while embracing you. You had a smile on your face that hasn't come back since before the break up.

You laid in your bed and sighed. Your eyes heavy as you allowed sleep to take you. A burning question lingered. "Blaise, where are you?"

You woke up to someone knocking loudly on your front door. The alarm clock read 12:30 AM. Startled you grabbed your wand and walked to the door slowly. The knocks became softer the closer you walked to the door. Maybe the unexpected visitor was your neighbor's husband. He was known to forget where he lived after a few pints at the pub.

"You are at the wrong house, Mr. Pine," you chuckled trying to appear unnerved. You opened the door and your eyes widened. Standing before you was a sad Blaise. His eyes half closed as he stumbled on your porch. "Blaise?"

He nodded yet you still couldn't believe it was him. His normal clean shaven face had stubble on it. The man always a stickler for fashion and cleanliness now wore a dirty striped shirt and jeans. He leaned against your doorframe for support.

"Can I come in?" He whispered yet before you could answer he was falling over. You grabbed him and placed his arm above your shoulders. He slowly walked with you until he sat on the couch.

"Blaise, what happened to you?"

"I'm trying but I need help," he whimpered. You could see the fear in his eyes. Something really scared him. "I can't take care of them, Y/N. She screwed me up and I don't want to screw them up to,"

"Blaise, you aren't a screw up. They love you and you love them," you assured him. You sat on the table in front of him. His eyes downcast. He leaned into your hand once you caressed his cheek. "Pansy, Theo, Draco, and I will help you. Don't give up on your family. They lost their mother too. They need you,"

"I screw everything up. I even screwed our relationship up," he whispered. Tears pooled in his eyes. You stared in awe. Blaise was never one to almost cry. "I don't know how you can want to help me,"

"We are young and we moved too fast. It happens," you shrugged. This was true. Right after Hogwarts you two were living together. Apparently you two didn't realize that living in the same school was different than living in an apartment together. The relationship went sour quickly after that.

"I want you back,"

"You don't mean that. You are just scared. Let's get you to sleep and we'll talk in the morning," you promised. He laid on the couch. Pillows and blankets were gathered from the closet. You handed him the pillows and placed the blanket on him. He grabbed your hand.

"I mean it, Y/N. I will win you back," he muttered before falling asleep.

[daytaker]

The Gang React to Weed

Happy 4/20, here's a thing.

(I'm imagining that demons have the same reactions to weed that humans do. I don't think they actually would have the same reactions, but theoretically...)

Oh, and to make my own bias clear: I'm not a fan, personally. I can't think about weed without thinking about the smell. The stink. So I'm not sure if the focus on the smell in these comes off as weird or not, but it's so powerful in my mind, it must be addressed.

Lucifer hates weed. Don't call that the Devil's lettuce, he wouldn't touch it with a ten foot pole. It smells like skunk. It's revolting. Don't use it in his house. Don't use it in his presence. Don't use it. It's antithetical to everything he believes in.

Mammon...would stone. I see him as someone who uses one of those vape pens on the DL (not nearly as smelly, so much safer to use in the House of Lamentation) but he'd also like gummies and weed brownies. Being stoned is just fun. It's pleasant. It's relaxing. Chill out, Lucifer, you're harshing the vibes, man.

Leviathan is nervous about weed. He has this idea that there's a way he's supposed to react to cannabis, and when he doesn't, he feels like there's something wrong with him. He's supposed to feel all chill and groovy, right? So why does he just feel dizzy? Why is he not relaxed? Why isn't he chill?! Why isn't he groovy?!?!?! He probably psyches himself out too much to enjoy it. He's too nervous about the social expectations.

Satan is kind of ambivalent to weed. He doesn't particularly enjoy it. I don't think he'd like feeling intoxicated in general because of the lack of control. But at the same time.... it pisses Lucifer off so much, how can he not appreciate that? He doesn't like the smell either, so if it wasn't for Lucifer, he'd be the one complaining about it, but as it stands, he's perfectly willing to enable his brothers who do like it.

Asmodeus doesn't mind it in moderation, and only in edibles. Again... the smell. He will not tolerate smelling like anything less than a bouquet of roses. He only really uses it socially.

Beelzebub can't have cannabis. And I know you know why. The cravings. You can't just take gluttony and make it hungrier. It Devours. Once, Mammon left some weed brownies unattended, and he was strung up by Lucifer for days, not because he brought pot into the house, but because Beelzebub ate them and went on a mindless rampage through the Devildom, eating his way through various businesses and even a few historic landmarks. Everything was game: stone, dirt, wood, you name it. The bottomless pit just became bottomless-er.

Belphegor likes it. Similar to Mammon, he doesn't want the hassle of Lucifer getting on his case, so he prefers the vape pen, since it's less smelly and also Beel-safe. It makes him feel cozy and relaxed, because if Belphie needs anything, it's something to help him fall asleep more easily.

Diavolo loves it! But since Lucifer hates it, he doesn't use it very often. I actually imagine he and Solomon occasionally hang out and smoke. Only very rarely, because he's much too busy to be fucking off with some tricksy wizard and getting high, but it happens from time to time.

Barbatos is indifferent to it. What's some intoxication in the face of millions of years of experiences and virtual omniscience? It won't affect him. But please, young master, if you must indulge, change your clothes after. The scent has a way of clinging to fabric...

Solomon loves weed! It's so fun. What a great way to take the edge off. Mind-altering substances are very fun for a guy who's seen it all, even if cannabis is relatively lowkey. When he senses that the moment is right, he'll whisk Diavolo away every now and then and hang out in some scenic location while smoking. He has a fantasy that one day, Diavolo will spontaneously suggest they make a pact during such an occasion. It hasn't happened yet.

Simeon isn't interested in getting high. It's not for him, or for any angels, really. I wish I had a more nuanced picture of him for this prompt, but I'm just picturing a meme with Simeon's face saying "Don't get high: get saved."

Luke is a literal child.

"What's that awful smell, Simeon?"

"Oh, that's just some Devil-grass burning. Some demons enjoy the sensations inhaling the smoke causes."

"Demons would like something like that!"

[sunnyy3d]

Bingley Is the One|Thomas Thorne x Reader

A/N: I hope this is good and people like it cause it took me forever to write… Requests open!

"Thomas, what are you talking about? Bingley is obviously better than Mr. Darcy!" This is so stupid. I can't even believe that we are having this argument, but Thomas just has to be persistent. Of course he would say that Darcy is better; he has been acting just like him!

"Darcy is clearly better! He's much more sophisticated and mysterious than Bingley. Plus, he gets the girl," he argues. Really? That's his point?

"That is so stupid, Thomas. Bingley gets the girl too! You know what? I am done with this conversation, it is pointless," I exclaim before I storm out. I really wish I could slam doors right now. It just makes me so angry! What is wrong with him?! Does he have to be so annoying? I finally reach my room, for once glad that I do not have to change or get ready for bed. With a sigh, I tiredly plop into bed and fall asleep for the night.

I wake up with a yawn and look over to the bedside table. The antique clock on top of it tells me that I overslept. Allison would be having breakfast by now, so I need to hurry because if I do not, I will miss talking to her before she leaves for work.

Allison has been a massive help as of late. She has been listening to me complain about how Thomas has been acting and offering me advice, though it hasn't gotten us anywhere. I smile as I enter the dining room, "Good morning, Allison!" I look around to see no other ghosts bothering Allison this morning. That's perfect. I can talk to her in solitude.

"Good morning," Allison greets, "you're unusually chipper."

"Oh, you know me! A great nights rest after yet another futile argument with Thomas," I retort. Allison sighs and gives me a dejected look as she pours her cup of coffee. "I do not get it, Allison. What ever happened to the old Thomas! That one was just fine! He was nice and considerate. Now this one is trying to say that Darcy is better than Bingley."

She shrugs, "Well everyone is entitled to their own opinion."

"But that is the thing! I heard him talking to Julian about how he liked Bingley more than Darcy. So, why is he lying to me? Is he just trying to start an argument?" I sit in the pulled-out chair with a frown, crossing my legs.

Allison sits across from me with her coffee and breakfast. Oh, how I wish I could eat breakfast. "Hm, that is weird. What's weirder is that he was talking to Julian, of all people, about Pride and Prejudice. I don't know, something is off."

I shake my head, "Is it me? What made him change?"

"No! Of course it's not you. You haven’t done anything but be kind. Well, before he changed… But at the same time, I'm not sure what caused this. Maybe I can ask Julian." She's finished her breakfast now, her chair screeching as she stands up to put her dish in the sink.

I give her a small smile, "Thank you, Allison. You are a big help. I guess you have to go to work now, huh?" She cocks her head with a thin smile and a hum, as if to apologize for having to leave. I walk her to the door, as she makes me promise to update her on the situation when she gets home.

I sigh as I head to the family room. Right before I reach the door, I hear Thomas' voice, which makes me hesitate. Do I really want to deal with another fight this early in the morning? I am already upset about the entire situation. In my moment of hesitation, I realize that Thomas is whispering to Julian. Why is he whispering? There is no harm in listening in, right?

"I don't know, mate, but that's on you. Just go up to her and kiss her or something, everyone knows that you like her," Julian teases. I feel my heart drop. Who are they talking about?

"Are you crazy? Don't say that," Thomas whisper-yells.

"Just talk to her. She doesn't bite," Julian jokes.

"You don't know that, " Thomas replies seriously, "You've clearly never had an argument with her." Oh. They are talking about me. I think I will just go now, maybe to the lake. Thomas may have that window as his sighing place, but the lake is mine. It's so calming to watch the waves.

Why am I disappointed that Thomas does not like me? I should know that by now. I mean, he has been starting arguments with me for over a month now. Do I like Thomas? I cannot; I despise the way he acts. Or at least I do now. I liked him before he changed. I would have considered us at least friends, but he must not have liked me that much. I do not understand what happened though. He acted just fine; he was kind and caring and ever so sweet to me. And then he was not. He started ignoring me and brushing me off. And those are just the tip of the iceberg.

But here I am, sulking because he said he did not like me when he has made it so obvious. How long have I liked him and not realized? Did he ever realize? Is that why he changed? Did he recognize that I had deeper feeling for him that he did not reciprocate?

Before I realize it, the sun is setting. I have been so lost in my thoughts, trying to calm myself by watching the tranquil clouds and rippling waves, but it has not worked. I had no idea that I have been sitting here for hours. To be fair, there's not much else to do when you're dead. Suddenly, I hear a twig snap from behind me. Whipping around, I spot Thomas. Of course. "Not now, Thomas. I'm really not in the mood.” He sits down anyway. "I'm serious," I warn.

"Can I please have just a moment? This is quite important."

"If it is imoportant." I shan’t look at him. I cannot let him see how this is affecting me.

"I have been searching for you all day, you know. I am not sure why I didn't check here first."

"Please, skip the pleasantries and get on with it. I have a feeling I know what this is about anyway." I shake my head, trying not to cry. I had not cried this entire time; but of course, now that he's here, the tears have come. Hopefully, they will fall and blend in with the lake.

"You do?" questions Thomas.

"Yeah, I heard you talking with Julian. I know he was messing with you about liking me. Do not worry, I know it's not true."

Thomas lets out a light scoff. "Then you must not have heard the entire conversation. I do like you."

"I already told you that I am not in the mood for joking."

"I am not joking! I really do like you," Thomas argues.

Thomas ducks his head, trying to put himself in my line of sight. And for the first time since the start of this conversation, I look at Thomas. Tears are rolling down my face. "Then why have you been treating me like this? I do not think there has been a single day where we have not argued."

"I will admit that I made a grave mistake. I listened to Julian's advice.”

"Why would you do that?" I scoff.

"Because I wished to impress you. I was so desperate at the time and I thought you would not like me. So, I tried to be someone that I wasn't. I wish to blame Julian but it is on me. I cannot fathom why I thought that you would like what Julian made me out to be. I apologize for the way I have treated you. I can see how much I have hurt you, and I understand if you do not return my feelings." Thomas reaches his hand to my face to wipe away my tears, and I can't help but lean into his touch.

Holding his hand to my face, I explain, "I will say that the way you have treated me has hurt, but I understand now. You should have just talked to me in the first place." Thomas drops his hand to face me entirely, and I miss the warmth.

"I realize that now. I'm not sure why I ever listened to Julian in the first place. He made me believe that you would like Darcy more than Bingley, and that says a lot."

"How does he even know who Darcy and Bingley are?" I chuckle.

Thomas laughs heartily at that comment, "I had to explain the characters to him. I was trying to explain how I was more of a Bingley than a Darcy."

I look him in the eyes, smiling. "Well, it is a good thing that you now know that Bingley is the one for me."

"Really?" Thomas asks with a broad smile across his face.

"Yes! Thomas, I liked who you were before Julian’s tutalage. If you can go back to being yourself, that would make me more than ecstatic."

Thomas jumps forward, clasping his hands in mine, "Of course, I would do anything for you!"

I laugh, resting my head on his shoulder so that we can watch the sun finish setting together, "That's more like it."

[omppupiiras]

my long & rambly thoughts about People's Champion the album 🍄‍🟫

Ready To Go.. ahh, first I have to make a confession that my first impression of this song was basically "..that's it?". But in my defence it was in the middle of the night & I was not maybe in the most receptive mood. 😂

but then over the course of a few days I went from "ok maybe i like it actually" all the way to "WAIT. it is a bop and also WHY AM I GETTING EMOTIONAL OVER IT? 😭😭" I could write a whole ass post about all my ready to feels and thoughts. It is, of course, about how Jere's ready to go. He doesn't care if the shoes he's stepping into are too big for him, he doesn't care that people don't believe in him. He knows that people only want to see him fail and are waiting to say "I told you so" when it happens. But he doesn't care about any of that because HE believes in himself. He's not giving up and he's going to give it his all and hell, this whole thing COULD blow up in his face but he doesn't care. He's ready to GO.

(and there's also something very naive and bittersweet about ready to go to me, he's giving this thing his all and throwing himself into it with eyes wide open, believing and trusting and full of expectations, but he doesn't actually know or understand where this road will take him. he will actually succeed beyond his or anyone else's wildest dreams, but there's no way he could have known before it happened how much it would cost him)

and ofc CCC coming immediately after ready to go is absolutely PERFECT placement!! I immediately became obsessed with the idea of the story this album was going to tell when we got the album art and title, and OH BOY. They did not disappoint!!

Because speaking of this album telling a story, next we have Tavavoltti. On first listen it's kind of a light-hearted funny song with fun sounds. But it following CCC makes one realize that hey. Wait. Oh. It's actually saying so much about his experiences after CCC. Like with ready to go i could write a darn essay about this song but.. it's about him being unable to say no. It's about him being the funny guy, and hey, funny guys can't not be happy, right?

(Täst roolista ryydyn, mut hymy ei hyydy

Oon syypää suun hymyyn, siks rooliini tyydyn

Everybody wants something from him and they don't mind tearing him apart to get it. And he's got everything a person could want, right? Surely? He's definitely not supposed to complain, so he resigns himself to the role of a circus monkey, the masochist that he is, and pushes himself to his absolute limits. (not to say that this song is all sad bc it's not! the chorus IS hopeful though maybe in a slightly melancholy way) but ONCE AGAIN a song that sounds like a bop is actually way more deep and meaningful than it has any right to be!! 😭

playing this role exhausts me, but my smile doesn't slip

i'm the reason for your smile, and that's why i accept my role)

and whew speaking of being a masochist, next we have ruoska. damn. DAMN. this album, man. i love ruoska moving on

Kot Kot, kot kot. This song boldly starts off with "mayday", and isn't that a choice? To me Kot Kot is about Jere needing help but he hasn't admitted that to himself yet. He has given away so much of himself yet he doesn't understand why he feels so empty now. The partying and drinking don't really help but it's all he knows how to do.

Skit immediately following Kot Kot kills me DEAD. It makes both of these songs desperately sad. In Kot Kot, he needs help. In Skit, he's asking for it and being dismissed. My theory is that the therapist in Skit represents how difficult it was for him to reach out for help or even to have people who understand. How could he even explain to someone how something so amazing can be so terrible? Does anyone even care to hear that, to listen to him talk about it? His problems aren't normal people problems, anymore.

Autiomaa, autiomaa, autiomaa. I loved Autiomaa from the first snippet he shared and the full song did not disappoint. Bye bye my old favorite Käärijä song Menestynyt Yksilö, Autiomaa has taken your place. 😭 Seems like I have a theme going on lol, I love songs where he gets real and personal, and in Autiomaa he does that on a whole new level.

I love that he was brave enough to write Autiomaa and bold enough to make sure people understood Autiomaa is a big deal to him. He wanted to share his feelings and be understood and heard. The music video is such a piece of art and besides being so emotional this song is just so damn GOOD. He's such a master of the finnish language in the way he writes lyrics.

I love sex = money and of course in true käärijä style it's a bop but it also says something very real with its lyrics. but hey! sex sells! better get selling then

bananas is the song i have the least feelings & thoughts about haha. I like all the foodstuff lyrics but that's about it 😂 maybe i will have more feelings about it when i hear it live

next we have Huhhahhei and I must confess.. it's not for me fam. I don't like it. 🙈 I can't put this into words in any way that makes sense, but to me Huhhahhei is different to every other Käärijä song. The lyrics are generic in a way that almost makes it feel like this song is about nothing at all. I don't see it as a love song either, to me the lyrics are just saying words to say them without really meaning anything. so for that reason to me Huhhahhei is the song that fits on this album the least.

icip kind of feels like a breath of fresh air in the album - it's crazy it's party, life is life. things aren't so doom and gloom anymore. with its placement in the album it feels like jere accepts all the good and the bad and now he has learned to enjoy being an artist again. he's had a hell of a party that he couldn't escape, maybe he lost his mind a little along the way, but he made it out to the other side. ta-da, ta-da, ta-da...

and lastly, People's Champion. It's a lovely song and a perfect song to end the album with. but i have written so many words now i dont have much left for people's champion dgdfgldf but i love it a lot and im so glad jere won the battle for this to be included bc truly, what would this album be without this song??

[hyunsvngs]

You want to talk about jeongin that's one of my favourite subjects, I was the anon that was asking if you did requests because jeongin takes over my mind 24/7 so I'll share it here 😌

Recently I can't stop thinking about no matter what the boys are always going to look at jeongin like he's a baby but what of he gets a partner and he doesn't talk about what they do together, I feel like he's kinda private about that stuff at the beginning but certain things would happen or he'd do things not really thinking it's a big deal but the rest of the members brains are running a hundred miles a minute because no way there baby just did that like for example let's say there on tour and there picking up souvenirs for family and friends and jeongin see's sex chocolate and him and his partner have talk about trying it together and he hasn't seen them in months thinks it'd be a nice gift for when he gets back and he moves on and keeps looking at things but the members that are around him are mortified they can't believe he was so casual about it

Another situation I think about let's say there ordering food there just having a night in after there hectic schedules and jeongin offer's to pay for the food they don't complain it's free food so he pulls out his wallet to order the food with it but while doing so polaroid's fall out of it of him doing back shots some are his partner all fucked out with his cum on there chest maybe some degrading words are written across there body and he just picks it up and laughs a little and just says "sorry your weren't supposed to see that😊" and just continues to put the order in

A thing I think would really make it hit the members would be of they heard him have sex I don't think jeongin would purposely have it happen maybe he asks if he can just have the dorm for the night because he wants to have his partner in his space instead and the members understand and agree to spend the night at the other boy's dorm, later on into the evening one of them forget something dont think anything of it and head back to pick it up maybe even drop by a little convenient store to get some sweets to say sorry for intruding in on there little date, they punch the code into the keypad and right as they open the door there feet haven't even made it into the dorm yet and they just here jeongin fucking his partner within an inch of there life they can here him talk them through it, what he's gonna do if they dont start listening to him and the boys are devastated 😭 there baby how could he be doing all this and then pretending like nothing has changed, they definitely turn there asses around not even remembering what they even went back for and the walk to the other dorm was dead silent nobody wants to talk about it they couldn't even eat the sweet they bought

After this all happens Chan will try give him the birds and the bees talk and jeongin looks at him like 'bro it's a bit late for that😬'

That's all I've got for now but if I think of anything else I'll be sure to share it here 😌

I RLY LOVE THIS ACTUALLY LMFAOOOOO LIKE JEONGIN BEING SECRETIVE BUT ALSO… SO CASUAL ANOUT IT? I THINK THATS SOOO HIM

[2ndalt]

What are your driving headcanons for the Thea Sisters + CVS?

Who would drive like a grandma, and who would drive like a Texan during rush hour?

HEHEHHE so glad you asked

Pamela is obviously the go to driver (even though she drives like a madwoman) mainly because she has the most experience. Has broken numerous speed limits, has not cared. Everyone gets nervous whenever she has to get them somewhere fast, but she hasn't crashed into anything yet so it's fineeee

Pamela: Traffic laws? More like traffic suggestions!

Violet: ...I suggest we get out of the car.

Pamela: Too late!

Violet is a decent driver, but in a car with the other Thea Sisters? Between Nicky complaining that she wants to have the window open, Colette fighting with her over what they listen to on the radio, Paulina constantly wanting to stop and take a picture whenever she sees something slightly interesting, and Pamela trying to be a backseat driver- she prefers not to be the one behind the wheel. Once had to pull off to the side of the road and scream for a solid ten seconds because they were annoying her that much (they got super quiet afterwards tho).

Colette as a driver,, yeah no this woman is a passenger princess all the way. Does not drive unless absolutely necessary.

Colette: I just got my manicure I can't drive.

Violet: My arms are sore from practicing for THREE HOURS you'll live.

Colette: :(

Violet: No- stop making that face- fine, I'll drive.

Colette: Yay! :D

Paulina will not start the car unless everybody has their seatbelts on. Will not bend this rule under any circumstance. It gets especially annoying whenever they have to chase after the villain of the week/make a quick getaway.

Paulina: *waiting*

Pamela: Dude they're getting away, step on it!

Paulina: I only heard four clicks, including myself.

Colette: Four clicks?

Nicky: *slowly buckles in*

Paulina: We can go now.

Nicky. Oh, dear Nicky. In most circumstances she's an alright driver, but the Thea Sisters cannot allow her to drive in highly trafficked areas. She will get road rage, will flip off anyone who cuts her off, will honk the horn repeatedly as the car crawls through slower than a snail moving through tar.

Nicky: YOU BUNG DAG GOOG ARE YOU EVEN WATCHING THE ROAD?! YOU'RE GONNA CRASH INTO SOMEONE YOU-

Paulina: *As Nicky shouts in the background* It's always fun to learn new Australian lingo via an angry Nicky.

Okay time for da bois.

Craig, despite all his jockiness, believes in responsible driving. He's drilled into the heads of all members of the Lizard club to call him if they've been drinking heavily and need a ride because he wants to make sure they get back safely.

Vic learned to drive through Mario Kart. I feel like that's self explanatory.

Shen drives like my grandma. Constantly checking to make sure he isn't going over the speed limit, and if he is going just 0.01 times faster than the law states he acts like he's committed high treason. Mostly prefers to be the driver because he once accepted a ride from Pamela and has yet to recover from it.

Shen: We're gonna die we're gonna die we'regonnadie-

Pamela: *zooooom*

[deusvervewrites]

I know some people try to use the logic "well, Midoriya obviously wasn't using his Quirk for most of the Quirk Apprehension Test, so that is why he got last" and my response is- how did he get a lower score than Kaminari? Even if his Quirk could be used for any of the tests, which they really couldn't other than frying the equipment, if Kaminari used his Quirk back then, he risked clocking out.

Kaminari, Koda, Sero, Jiro, Mineta, and Hagakure all have Quirks that can't help with any of the tests or with only one of them. And yet in the endurance race I'm expected to believe Midoriya fell behind Mineta?

It's also quite interesting that Aizawa complains about the Entrance Exam being biased and that the Department of Education hasn't standardized Quirk use in physical tests and then gives us this shit

[highvern]

omg hey saw that your reqs are open hehe if ure free or if ure thinking abt taking a break from your wips would u consider writing something abt jeonghan x monster!reader from the recent one you wrote :0 of course you don't have to write a whole fic abt it but i'd like to know how they ended up together! i'm so curious ... and also i think i'm just a little insane abt that fic . well. hehe.

I too am a little insane over that fic tbh it was so fun to write!

So basically when monster!reader left the lake she essentially becomes human. Naiads/sirens aren't really known for their complex emotions in mythology lol so most of what she's experienced sans loneliness has been heavily muted because she was immortal and had been in that lake for who knows how long. did y'all watch aquamarine and how she's kinda childish about emotions? think that

But she knows she's drawn to Jeonghan, she has the insatiable urge to be around him all the time, and that's the reason she left her lake because he couldn't stay there forever but she could join him in his world.

More under the cut! this ended up so much longer than I thought but slay.

Jeonghan would show her everything, and she is wide eyed the entire time because all of this existed and she didn't know about it? It makes her feel a little ashamed for believing humans were nothing more than playthings for so long. But I digress.

He takes her to the bookshop he likes to frequent, discovers she can't read obviously (not that she cares), and promises to teach her if she wants. It's fall so the fruit orchards on the outskirts of the village are full of autumn fruit that he picks for her, watching her intently as she tries them with enthusiasm. Jeonghan even takes her through the woods, walking the secluded trails he knows like the back of his hand as she watches the animals scurry in the underbrush with wonder.

And all of these positive feelings she associates with him. Even on days where she can hear the lake screaming for her to comeback, she remembers all the things she missed that Jeonghan has shared with her. And so she stays.

Winter is horrible in her opinion. Cold and dry, she feels like her skin is going to peel off from the heat of the fire she remains in front of all day, attempting to read the books Jeonghan's collected over the years. In the lake, she'd lay down at the bottom, slumbering as the ice crystalized the surface of her home this time of year. And then, when warmer days came, she'd rise to play again. But her now human body won't let her do that anymore. So she has to suffer the biting air.

It's refreshing.

One night, wind is howling and snow is piling against the glass of the windows and she just can't keep herself warm enough under the layers of wool to find rest. So she does what she always does when she runs into a problem in this strange new world. She goes to Jeonghan.

He's shocked to see her in nothing but her nightgown at the foot of his bed, half of her face illuminated in candle light. Jeonghan's seen her in far more compromising states of dress but she always looks so beautiful it makes it hard to breath. And when she complains of the cold, he offers to let her share his bed. Respectfully.

She isn't sure how that'll help but she agrees since Jeonghan hasn't led her astray yet, diving under his blankets to be shocked by the pleasant toastiness underneath. She sighs as her shivering body slowly heats up, eyes slipping shut drowsily as Jeonghan lays a few inches away, watching her.

They wake up the next morning, tangled in one another's arms. Her cheek against his chest, legs wrapped around his to soak in the early morning. After that, she comes to his bed every night under the guise of staying warm.

And then spring comes around and she practically burst from her excitement. She'll get to see the flowers and all the new life emerge as the world wakes up. The town has acclimated to her presence now, unaware of who or what she was before this life, but hypnotized by her sweet smiles and childish laughter all the same. Each morning she practically runs to the town square to look for the garland Jeonghan mentioned, pouting when it's nowhere to be seen as she goes about her errands.

"It's still too cold." Jeonghan explains, snickering at her scowl when she accuses him of lying.

So she waits. And she waits. And she never knew time could feel like this, slow in a painful way. Time had been her friend before but now she resents him.

Then one morning, Jeonghan is acting odd. Not the odd paleness he has when he falls ill or the strange quietness when he argues with his father. But a new sort of oddness she has yet to witness. He keeps glancing at a cabinet in the kitchen over her head as they eat breakfast. When she turns to look herself, his face stretches and his eyes round; like the fish in her lake.

He isn't working in the mill today so they're meant to go explore now that the ground is soft and the sun is closer. Even the wind has turned his sharp claws into gentle hands this morning.

Just as they're about to step outside to leave, Jeonghan pulls her back by her wrist.

"I got you a gift" He whispers.

Her head tips to the side, "A gift?"

Instead of answering, he crosses back to the cabinet. There's a strange rope coiled on one of the shelves, pink and red and white. And when he aproaches her with it, spreading the length from arm to arm to display it properly, she realizes he wasn't lying about the flowers.

"It's beautiful!" She exhales, enamored by the tight twine of blossoming buds. Even in her new form, she loves beautiful things.

She gentle caresses the velvety petals, completely hypnotized.

"I made it for you." He glows in that way that he does so often under her gaze. The way most people do under her approving stare but she thinks his red cheeks are the prettiest.

Together, they hang the garland over the front door. It's meant to welcome a prosperous spring and good luck for the year. Jeonghan doesn't mention it's also a tradition for newly betrothed couples to signify their devotion to one another.

Passing through the town, she examines each new decoration eagerly, Jeonghan smiling behind her as he watches.

"Look at this one!" she squeals, a braid of three lines, crisscrossing yellow, white, and lilac.

She's ecstatic the world isn't gray anymore, bursts of color dripping from every surface possible. Even the sky has returned to a cheery blue, dimpled with gossamer clouds sporadically.

And in her excitement, she does what she's seen the humans do when they celebrate. When taverns are rowdy with drunk patrons, or when a couple gets married in the small chapel at the center of town. When the women welcome their husbands back from long journeys.

She throws her arms around Jeonghan's neck and kisses him.

After he swallows the initial shock, he kisses her back.

[laurellerual]

Arya and Sansa storyswap: an exercise in imagination

Premise: I tried to speculate what might happen if Sansa manages to escape King's Landing and Arya gets stuck in the capital. I collected my thoughts on this scenario trying to make logical, credible choices that respected the characterization of the characters and the timeline of the books (the wiki was very usefull for this). I discarded all the scenarios that end in "…and then she dies horribly" because they're boring. I write with assumption that they would still remain POV characters and therefore mantain a minimum of plot armor. Like everyone, I have my biases so it's not perfect, but I tried to put myself in the most neutral mindset possible. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts. Part 1, Part 3

Part 2/3: Arya

A Game of Thrones 

For Arya to remain trapped in King's Landing, she must be captured by the Lannister men. I think she would manage to escape the Red Keep anyway, at least at first.

The factor I'd choose to change is in Arya V. The girl is in Flea Bottom when she sees the Winds Witch hasn't left yet. She approaches, but this time the guards in disguise decide to arrest her. Why? In this scenario both Stark girls have been lost, so the Lannister men have orders to to be extra scrupulous, the situation is serious. They can't afford any more mistakes, they'll capture every slightly suspicious child.

Arya is brought to the queen who confirms her identity and is then locked in Maegor's Holdfast. Needle is taken from her by one of her captors (ser Meryn?): perhaps he keeps it as a trophy, perhaps it's thrown into the royal armory. Jeyne is locked up with her. The servants come to bring food, but do not answer her questions. She is brought suitable clothes, many of these are Sansa's because the trunk with Arya's things got lost in stables. She waits and fears that her father is dead.

Ser Boros comes to collect her on the third day, while she walks she looks around searching for a way to escape. They pass the pikes and for a moment Arya is sure that he's accompanying her to her death. She'll be executed for what happened on the Trident and she can't help but wonder if the reason for all this carnage is to punish the Starks for when she hited Joffrey. Actually she's accompanied in front of the queen who welcomes her with smiles and kind words… a facade, Cersei has never been that kind to her. The girl is relieved to know that her father is alive, but when she asks about Sansa she receives no answer. Does that mean she's dead?

Cersei prepared a letter for Arya to copy and sign to send to her family. The contents are similar to those in canon. Arya reads it, but she has a flash of courage: "My father is no traitor!". Joffrey is a liar! But she doesn't say this out loud. The manipulative kindness is over, Cersei nods at Blount. The knight hits her in the face and breaks her lip. Cersei says that if she doesn't comply they will kill both her and her father. It's a bluff but Arya doesn't know it and it's now clear that they have no qualms about hurting her so she starts copying. She hopes that the stilted style in which the letter is written will be enough to make Robb understand that this are not her words. Arya is locked back in her new room, but Jeyne is no longer there.

Cersei complains about Arya's behavior, 'The girl is as wild as a filthy animal'. If she lets her get close to Joffrey the girl might attack him again. Or he could have her killed and they would lost an hostage. However it's necessary for the girl to be seen attending court or no one will believe that she is really in their hands. If they keep her hidden for too long word might spread that she is dead. Littlefinger proposes to avoid this risks by using Jeyne, Sansa's friend, as Arya's public image.

The real Arya is not allowed to participate in Joff's first court session. She has not proven to be loyal and obedient enough and therefore she's not allowed to move inside the Red Keep. She can't leave the room and has no information. The servants change every day so she can't befriend them. The time she spends awake is spent thinking of a way to escape.

She sleeps alot, and when she sleeps she dreams: she begins to dream of being a cat roaming free, the true king of the castle. She dreams to flee the Keep, hiding in Flea Bottom and then she sees a crowd, she follows and she sees… her father. His head falling off. She wakes up screaming! She tells herself it's just a nightmare, but it feels too real. She wants to cry, to die, she wants to kill Joffrey. Joffrey and Cersei, sir Ilyn, sir Meryn and the Hound: she begins to pray every night for their deaths.

One day Joffrey discovers where she is locked and arrives with the Hound and two white cloaks. They force her to get up and get dressed. He takes her to her pikes to taunt her and show her his father's head. Arya has confirmation that the dream was true. Joffrey baits her for a reaction,… if only looks could kill. She takes a step forward and the Hound throws her to the ground and she gets beaten up.

The Hound takes her back to her room and reminds her that Joffrey wants her dead, if she wants to continue living she has to try harder to not get killed. Arya doesn't give a damn about her life right now. After she calms down she decides that if she wants to see her mother again she has to pretend and play along. From this day on she'll wear the mask of the perfect lady to convince Cersei to allow her to leave the room. Only like this she could have a chance to escape.

A Clash of Kings

After what happened Cersei decides to throw her in a real cell. This is first of all to punishing Arya, but also to keep her away from Joff because the girl is the only leverage she have to free Jaime.

At this point Sansa receives a message to meet with Dontos. Littlefinger may still consider using Arya to gain power and get back on Ned/Cat. But the problem is that Arya isn't free to go to the Godswood alone. Given the situation, Littlefinger may decide it's not worth trying to free her from the Lannisters. Also this Stark sister doesn't look enough like her mother for his tastes.

Meanwhile, Jeyne attends Joffrey's birthday celebrations as fakeArya and Dontos dies. Tyrion arrives in the city to take Tywin's place as Hand of the King. At the tournament for his nephew he meets Jeyne and offers his condolences, but he can't help to notice that something is wrong. She looks older, her eyes are brown, and although her hair is the right color, up close it's clear that she doesn't look much like either Lord Stark or Jon Snow.

Arya has been in a cell for days now, she feels small and helpless like a mouse. One night she starts dreaming again, but this time it's different, she dreams of being a direwolf running free in the woods. She leads an immense pack and hunts every man who wears the Lannister lion. A bit of hope is rekindled in her. One night, in the distance, she sees a girl: it's her sister.

Tyrion begins to ask questions about what happened to the real Arya Stark and discovers the conditions in which she is incarcerated. He has her taken to the Tower of the Hand and allows her to wash and eat. Arya tries to find a secret passage, there has to be one, she thinks, but she can't find it. The idea of sleeping in a real bed overcomes her and she falls asleep. In the morning Tyrion introduces himself and tells her about Robb's recent victory. He jokes about the rumors that her brother has an army of wargs (like in Sansa III). 'Warg'! Yes, that's what those creatures were called in old Nan's stories! She wonders if... maybe she is a warg, and that's why she managed to see her father's death even though she wasn't there.

As in canon, Tyrion offers the Stark girl his protection. Sansa doesn't accept because she doesn't trust him and she has decided to point on Dontos' plan. As we have seen, her sister does not have this option to consider and therefore she accepts Tyrion's protection. Arya doesn't trust him, but she has no real choice if she wants to get out of her cell. Plus the Imp isn't that bad, sure he's a Lannister, but he's the only person who's done anything to help her so far. She doesn't want to be pitied by him, but there's something about that man that she likes. Maybe he reminds her a little bit of Jon, he reminds her a little bit of herself.

Her few belongings are taken to the Tower of the Hand and Chella becomes her personal guard. No matter how wary she is, Arya can't help but find the wildling woman intriguing. In order to avoid losing the few freedoms she has obtained, Arya continues to pretend docility and obedience. Over time this allows her to get out of there to pray in the Godswood, but when she tries to escape the guards catch her, beat her and lock her back in the tower.

In the eyes of the courtiers Jeyne remains the true Lady Stark. The two girls are kept apart and never met. One day she hears rumors about Arya Stark's supposed death: Jeyne was lost during the Bread Riots. The Lannisters refuse to give rise to these rumors and to dispel them they announce an engagement between Arya Stark and Lord X (Tyrion maybe?). Arya hasn't flowered so they won't get married for now, but time passes and the risk becomes more real every day.

Every now and then she still has cat dreams, wandering around the castle, listening to conversations, she even managed to scratch Joffrey once. One night she dreams of being a kitten and enters Tommen's rooms, cats like to go there. Her attention is drawn by a familiar gleam: hanging on the wall, display lika a toy, is Needle. The handle is different, richer, red and golden, but the shape of the blade and Mikken's mark are unmistakable.

During the Battle of the Blackwater Arya is taken to the Queen's Ballroom in Maegor's Holdfast, along with the other ladies of the castle so that Cersei can keep an eye on her. As per canon the queen gets drunk, she leaves and panic takes over the room. Arya sees her chance, she takes advantage of the confusion to exit the ballroom.

Arya runs to find an escape or at least a place to hide, but suddenly realizes that she is in a familiar hallway, just outside Tommen's door. The little prince was brought to Rosby to protect him so his rooms are empty and unguarded. Here we need a bit of luck because it's crazy, but Arya can't abandon Needle. She tries in every way to get in and under this pressure she manages to warg for the first time while she's awake. She use a cat to open the door and retrieve her sword. She steals a cloak and some male clothes, the least extravagant she can find.

She wanders around the Holdfast looking for an opening but there's no secret passage in Maegor's Holdfast. In the corridors she meets a soldier, but manages to kill him by taking him by surprise. In the end she comes across Sandor Clegane, drunk and crying and trying to get away from the battle. The Hound recognizes her and in a moment of madness wraps her in her cloak, throws her on his shoulder and run.

The Hound is not at all kind to Arya and the two have not had the opportunity to bond like with Sansa in canon. He doesn't care about Arya's will, he wouldn't ask her, he would only see it as an opportunity to leave and ask Robb Stark for a ransom. So Sandor kidnaps Arya, cuts her hair, and ties her on his horse. The two escape the city and start a their journey north.

Tywin arrives in King's Landing and is proclaimed "Savior of the City". Then he finds out that Cersei and Tyrion lost their last Stark hostage and he has a nervous breakdown (lol).

A Storm of Swords

During the journey, Sandor and Arya's relationship evolves pretty much like in canon. The two don't like each other, but over time they manage to coexist without killing each other. Arya learns some useful lessons about "where the heart is". But one day some outlaws capture them...

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for cooking meth with my former chemistry student, killing two people, and lying to my family about it?

I (50M) was recently diagnosed with inoperable, likely fatal lung cancer. I work at a highschool as a chemistry teacher, but both the pay and the students are terrible. Case in point, my "lab partner" (24M) - who we'll call "Cap'n" because of course he'd insist on a stupid nickname like that - not only completely flunked my class, but then went on to skip college entirely and become a meth-addicted drug dealer instead.

Understandably, I was a little shaken after receiving my diagnosis. It came as a surprise since I've never smoked, I keep myself in relatively fair health, etc. (Recently my wife has taken to vegan bacon- apparently it helps lower cholesterol, but I digress.) I haven't told my family about the situation yet; I'm still trying to figure out how to "let the cat out of the bag", not to mention I doubt my wife will take it very well.

As for deciding to try cooking methamphetamine, well. I'm not really sure how to explain it, exactly, but there's a lot of money in it, money that would benefit my family, and I don't have much to lose anymore. This may sound cliche, but it's as though I'm really awake for the first time in my life.

Cap'n and I formed a partnership by circumstance only; I found out he was in "the business" and offered to either turn him into the DEA or work with me, and he naturally took the second option. He had no idea what he was doing on the chemistry side of things - chili powder in the meth! applying heat to an Erlenmeyer flask! no wonder I flunked him, he clearly learned nothing in my class - but does know the trade.

(Note: Don't buy all of your supplies from the same store.)

Sorry, I'm getting too far into the weeds here, let me skip ahead. We purchased a trailer and drove out to somewhere in the middle of the desert to cook without added attention or need for dramatic cleanup if we had to leave the area in a hurry. Our first batch was, according to Cap'n, "pure glass." After all of that complaining, I had cooked the finest product he'd ever seen on the first try! Goes to show paying attention in school does pay off, ahem. In case any of you were reading this and thinking of skipping off to go and make highly illegal substances and risk years in prison instead of doing your homework. You all still have your entire lives ahead of you. I don't.

After making it, the next logical course of action was to sell. Cap'n said he had some connections - I mean, he is a drug dealer, I saw no reason not to trust him (I now see how little sense that makes.) - and came back with two men with guns pointed at both of us. You must understand, it was a kill or be killed situation. These are the kind of people who don't care about morals, or what's right or ethical or kind. If they'd lived... not just me, but my wife, my son, and my entire family would all be in serious, mortal danger. I had no choice.

Cap'n by this point had been knocked out cold- still alive, but entirely unhelpful with the situation at hand. I was on my own. So I offered to show the goons how I made the "glass", surely they wanted to see how it was done? And they did- I still can't believe that actually worked. But, ah, instead of actually cooking anything, I gave them... let's call it a chemistry lesson. When significant heat is applied to red phosphorus - a key ingredient in Cap'n and I's "extracurricular science project" - it oxidizes. Your result is phosgene gas, highly deadly, hence the "killing two people." One... technically isn't dead yet- somehow he managed to survive, I still don't fully understand how, but I'm... I'm working on it. Cap'n still has yet to get rid of the first body, so... technically I'm not failing to withhold my share of the cleanup, since he hasn't done so with his.

I realize now this is very long, but I wanted to explain the context for my actions. However, a tl;dr for those who might be in a hurry: I was diagnosed with terminal lung cancer, so with nothing else to lose decided to try to make some money for my family by cooking and selling methamphetamine. Coincidentally, a former student of mine was also in the business, and I convinced him to work with me. When we tried to put our product on the market, two people tried to kill us, so I acted in self-defense.

But I really, really must know... is what I did wrong? Should I have been content to live the rest of however-long-I-have-left working a miserable job as a public high school chemistry teacher instead? Should I have found a less fatal way of dealing with the two men who tried to kill me and my partner? AITA?

P.S. It's pretty late as I'm typing this so I might've made some errors in coherency or grammar, for which I apologize.