#i really hope i spelt everyone's names right :S

[lazzarella]

The Heart Killers x Pulp Fiction poster

[akaashisbabygirl]

Words: 1391

Pairings: Ushijima x reader

Warnings: characters are aged up, collar, oral (giving), vaginal penetration, reader isn’t on birth control

A/n: I can’t believe we’re already three days in to Kinktober. I hope everyone’s been enjoying my kinktober posts so far. there is still many more to come in the future <3

Note: I DO NOT OWN THE IMAGES USED. THEY BELONG TO THEIR RESPECTFUL OWNERS. ALL PICTURES USED WERE FOUND ON PICSART

“Toshi,” you called out as you entered the apartment via the front door. Your boyfriend, Ushijima was sitting in the living room, his arm around the back of the couch, some volleyball game airing on the screen. He turned his head to see you, a soft smile on his lips as he greeted you.

“How was your shopping?” he asked, grabbing hold of the remote to pause the game as he wanted to talk to you. He left the couch, making his way to the dining table, where you had set the shopping bags down on the wooden surface.

“It was good. Brought a ton of stuff,” you chuckled.

“I’m aware of that. What did you buy?” he asked, sounding kind of curious.

“Some new outfits, some food we can store in the cupboard as well as things we needed. Oh, I brought you a present too.”

“Really? For me?” he asked, his eyes widening.

“Yeah! I mean, kinda. It’s kinda for me to wear but for you to use,” you explained, a little blush spreading across your cheeks.

“I do not understand what you’re trying to say? Could you explain?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. What did you mean by, ‘It’s kinda for me to wear but for you to use’?

You pulled out a small pink bag, which was sitting in one of the larger bags. You handed the small bag to Ushijima with a smile on your face. His hands pulled out a white box which sat inside. He set the pink bag down on the table, using his now spare hand to open the box. Inside, sitting on the black fabric lay a simple collar. It was a pretty pink collar. He checked it out, taking in its appearance.

“Turn it around. Look at it from the front,” he heard you say.

He twisted the material around in his fingers, switching it to it’s very front. His eyes widened as he noticed the delicate words on the material, which spelt out the name:

W A K A T O S H I

He smirked. Finally, he knew exactly what you meant when you said, ‘It’s kinda for me to wear but for you to use’.

“You’d look so pretty with this collar around your little neck,” he commented, his hands moving to grab onto your neck, his veins popping out, “Why don’t we go and try it out?”

You simply nodded. Ushijima removed his hands from your neck, grabbing tightly onto your wrist and leading you to the bedroom, your shopping bags sitting unattended on the table.

Ushijima pushed you down on the bed, pulling his shirt off in the process, before climbing down and towering over you. His lips pressed against your own, pulling you into a heated make out session as your legs tried to wrap around his large build. His lips moved to your neck, sucking harshly on your soft skin, desperate to mark you up. Ushijima removed his lips from your neck, sitting you up and snatching the collar from its resting spot on the soft bedsheets. He helped sit you up, his hands now moving to hold the collar in front of you. You blushed as lewd thoughts entered your mind of what he was going to do next.

“You want this baby? You want this little collar wrapped around your neck?” he asked, looking you in the eye.

“Y-yes,” you squeaked.

You felt the collar being wrapped around your neck, tight.

“Gonna keep this tight… just like your tight little pussy.”

You moaned out, feeling the collar tight around your neck, Ushijima’s hands tugging the clothes from your body.

“I want you to suck me off.”

His commands were straight forward. Instantly, you made your way onto your knees, resting in between his enormous build. You pulled his sweatpants down his legs, throwing them to the side of the bed as you noticed the huge bulge in his pants. Ushijima’s eyes were locked on your neck. His name written nicely on the collar draped around your neck. You discarded his boxers to the floor, his erection standing tall and proud. You moved your lips down to suck on his tip, early a loud groan escape his lips as he threaded his large hand through your hair.

“Your mouth feels so good,” he muttered, looking down at how your small hands desperately latched onto to his thighs.

The wetness in between your legs had become unbearable. One hand trailed down to your pussy, running along your slit as the other gripped harder onto his thighs.

“So desperate for my cock, you’re touching yourself. You must be so needy.”

Ushijima pulled his cock from your mouth, “Come here.”

You removed your hand from your pussy, crawling over to your boyfriend. His large hands gripped your waist, pulling you to straddle his waist, your dripping cunt placed directly over his cock.

“Ride me.”

You pushed yourself down onto his length, the tip just entering, but the familiar feeling of being stretched apart from his large length came back. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck.

“T-too big,” you moaned out, your wetness dripping down onto his length, helping you push more of him inside of you.

“Come on, you can take it.”

His hands moved to your hips, helping you bounce yourself up and down on his length. The room quickly became filled with the sounds of your moans, as well as Ushijima’s deep groans.

“God, I love hearing the sounds of your moans… ngh, you look so pretty… wearing a collar with my name on it,” Ushijima moved his head down to your shoulder, sucking lightly on the exposed skin.

“Yes, that’s right. Fuck yourself on my cock. Fuck, I love the feeling of your walls clenching down on me. You’re so tight.”

“You’re so big… ah.”

“You can take it. I know you can.”

You started to bounce yourself on his cock, loud moans leaving your mouth as you felt the tip of his cock kiss your cervix. His hands steadied themselves on your waist, helping you bounce yourself on his length. He knew what he was doing to you, smirking to himself at the expressions you were making. He knew how good he made you feel when he was fucking you like this.

“Are you close?” he asked, as he started to thrust up into you, his thrusts now meeting your bounces.

“Y-yeah.”

“Gonna cum on this big cock? Yeah, that’s right… come on… cum…” He muttered.

You threw your head back, the collar now in full display. Ushijima smirked, feeling your walls clamp tightly down on his throbbing length.

“F-fuck.”

“Are you cumming? Come on. I want you to cum on my cock.”

Ushijima’s words were very straight forward – your eyes slammed shut as you felt the knot in your lower stomach broke, releasing your load on Ushijima’s length. He moved to push you down, whilst still inside you, your back hitting the soft bedsheets as he pulled your legs to sit in the air as he pounded into you, trying to bring himself to his own climax. His fingers moved to rub circles on your clit, moans escaping your lips as you clenched down on his length harder. Ushijima’s thrusts became slower as his climax hit, pulling out just in time to cover your stomach with his cum.  

Your legs fell from the air, resting down on the bedsheets as Ushijima stay hovered over your body. Your hands rested in his brown hair, a thin layer of sweat covering both your bodies.

“I’ll… go get something to clean you up with,” he said, removing his body from its position over yours. You smiled to him, staying with your head rested on the soft bedsheets below, shutting your eyes and humming a simple melody whilst waiting for him.

He returned quickly with a wet cloth in his hands, wiping his cum from your body, pressing kisses along your skin in a loving manner as he threw one of his large shirts over your unsteady body, helping you move to rest your head on the pillow, covering your body with the blankets that supported the bed.

“Oh, shit. I forgot to take the collar off,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay. I kinda like wearing it.”

Ushijima could only smirk in response.

[gstqaobc]

💜💜💜HI FROM PG💜💜💜

💜💜💜HI FROM PG💜💜💜

Hello there everybody! I thought I would send a message or a post and just let you all know that I miss you and I miss being a very active part of Skippy‘s blog!!

I had my second vaccination the Astrazeneca on Tuesday and had my doctor assessment yesterday and my arm is getting better it’s still is not 100% so I am taking it low and slow and using the dictation software. I know so many of you have left messages such kind words of love and support and I really really really appreciate them! And I want to say a special message to💜🙏🏻💜 CHERUB, 💜🙏🏻💜you know that you are  in my  prayers every single day. Jesus is with you he will never leave you or for sake you no matter what happens. I will be back probably in another week I think with if my arm continues as it is progressing.

Now I have a few things I wanna say about what’s happening here first I wanna say the visit to Scotland was a rousing success and as usual our Catherine slayed Fashion wise and interpersonal skills wise! I saw someone write a comment that they didn’t like her in the brown and the khaki but I had commented a couple of weeks ago when she wore that beautiful camel coloured coat that I wish she would wear browns and taupes more often so I was just elated to see her wear those long wide leg pants that were hemmed exactly as they should be not dragging on the ground! I just think that this couple can do no wrong and they both very well for the future! Now I am not biased by my affection for the Cambridge is at all ha ha Ha! By the way I received my Hold Still book this week and I also received from Royal Mail Her Majesty’s at 95th birthday stamp first day cover and coin which was reasonably price I think £20? Anyhow the book is very substantial and because of my left arm being the way it is I have yet to be able to look at it because it’s quite heavy and it is a huge book, but I am looking forward to the day when I can hold it and I can enjoy looking at the pictures! Again I say Catherine kudos to you on your fabulous projects! Catherine I also wonder if you’re stealing my word wowza because when you met with Mila for tea, you said wowza as she showed her dress twirling. I’m wondering are you borrowing from PG?? Aka me?? 😂😂😂🤣🤣Catherine you are most welcome to share the word while that I think we are the only two people on the planet that still say it ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!

OK now onto our Harry. Heads together in the UK and many other mental health organizations around the world are doing fabulous work. CBT or cognitive behavioural therapy, cognitive restructuring, EDMR, Hipnosis, that’s spelt wrong but hey I’m dictating hypnosis is spelled HYPNO either we go anyhow those are all legitimate therapies done when they’re done by trained professionals! One thing that has always driven me crazy about Oprah and Dr. Phil who is her who is her surrogate,  is they do mumbo-jumbo therapy on tv and have people share their just horrific interpersonal stories with an audience and a television audience! It just it just sickens me to make people so vulnerable for attention and ratings and money and advertising! When I saw Harry doing the tapping and whatever I just felt whether he was doing it for real or whether he’s towing the line as I believe it is just so wrong to show somebody at their most vulnerable!! It just sickens me.

However let’s let us ask ourselves why is this happening now? When ‘her’, l will continue to use the descriptor ‘her’ was doing all the talking a.k.a. lying because every time her lips move we know she’s lying and now she’s been silent. But for the last well since about the time that the Duke of Edinburgh passed away Harry allegedly has flown back to the to the United States where apparently he’s lived for two years one article said which surprises me but anyways what what’s truth and in articles. And he has been everywhere good morning America that all these Apple things with Oprah and celebrities and doing this and that and the other all for mental health!

You know sometimes it’s too much of a good thing. There’s a lot of excellent organizations in Canada there’s a CMH a Canadian mental health Association all over the world. But this constant stream of video and him in our face that’s not normal and the things he saying or lies and their provable lies that they’re not difficult at all. This is NOT NORMAL! IT IS A DELIBERATE OVERSATURATION FILLED WITH SUBLIMINAL MESSAGES IN THE VIDEOS, TRUST ME, SUBLIMINAL MESSAGES IN ADVERTISING IS REAL. TAKE A MAGNIFYING GLASS TO A FASHION MAGAZINE AND LOOK CLOSELY. YOU WILL BE AMAZED WHAT IS EMBEDDED IN THEM. JUST LIKE THE DISNEY VIDEOS THAT WERE SHOWN TO HAVE ADULT DRAWINGS.

In knowing Harry’s dedication to his Queen, his grandmother and his grandfather why on earth would he pick the first few days after the funeral to dig in like this and go so public? Why? We really must ask ourselves why? I will tell you why he is continuing to expose evil! There are all kinds of organizations that I’m not gonna name any “churches” some start with the letter S which many celebrities are members of Tom C is one. These organizations manipulate people and just like the NIXVM did in Canada. These backers are evil people and they’re willing to use people for anything in anyway at any purpose. The last picture I saw of Harry it was a video but I didn’t watch the video he looks so pale and so gaunt and so unwell that even though I believe he is doing the right thing and exposing all this and eventually hopefully eventually this will wrap up with him being free and everyone brought to justice let’s hope and pray, this is taking a terrible toll on him an absolute terrible toll. I have to again harken back to London scoop, everything has come to pass that she foretold way back several years ago when she came upon this information about this plot. I did a post one post last week where I propose the thought that the plot to integrate the British royal family began in the 1990s with princess Diana and I still believe that. I don’t know all the reasons or who the people would be but things things are just smelling very funny very very funny and I don’t mean funny as in laughter I mean funny as an off off off off!!!

So I say let us continue to pray for our Queen her family pray for the Cambridges, that they all stay safe and healthy the whole family to especially pray for Harry, whether do you think he’s doing his duty or you think he’s fallen under her trap and has become some whimpering child, pray for him all the more then because he needs it. If you really believe that he is he is doing this on his own free will because he’s mesmerized by her or he is woke and has become part of the woke world my goodness he needs more prayer than ever! To be released from these bondages!!

OK kids that’s my more than my two cents worth! As you all know it’s never one word thing with me I am very elaborative! I miss you all miss you and you all know who you are! Take care sending you all my love and prayers, PG!! I beg you all please don’t forget about me because I shall return I shall return!

To my dear Skippy, thank you for always being there. Thank you for relay messages. Most especially thank you for this safe space, your friendship and your prayers.

To my MM Anon/ Kensington Anon, thank you so much for your kind messages of love and support I have really appreciated it. I just feel like I���ve let everybody down by not being able to do the stories about the Cambridges. But I shall return soon hopefully in a week I’ll see how my arm is but it’s getting better hopefully in a week. I hope this finds you well, I hope you read this I don’t know if you ever checked my blog but if you do you will see this here.

💜🙂🙏🏻✝️💟PG💟✝️🙂🙏🏻💜

GSTQAOBC 🇨🇦🇬🇧🇦🇺🇳🇿

[tokyo-daaaamn-ji-gang]

First off your name (s) are so pretty, they sound so magical, and Artemisia? THAT'S SO BADASS WTF. Like the Greek goddess Artemis, so cool. (I kind of did know your first name because I just guessed that one). My name is Haleema (it's pronounced exactly the way it's spelt. Ha-lee-ma, but Hal is just easier for everyone ig?) But thank you!

You should definitely show me pictures of your plants and flowers, I have a few growing in my garden, mostly daisies which are my favourite, these little purple guys just grow wherever. They're very pretty, kinda remind me of the Haitani's colour scheme.

And these are my figures! I call them My council and we have regular meetings it's all very serious. I got the chifuyu on my birthday and the baji I bought to complete the duo! I really hope they release Haitani figs soon, I just know Rindou would look pretty on my shelf 😭

You should also definitely read bird box, the way it does the horror is so... Like it's so effective because it deprives you of so much, you're in the dark as much as the characters are. It's fast paced, the characters are complex and it's scary, moreso because it leaves so much to your imagination.

I also have a copy of battle Royale! I haven't read it though, I didn't know there was a book series to final destination though¿? (You are more than welcome to talk books w me btw, I am English student, I'd love that!)

That is a really pretty pin! Pretty like you! (I'm sorry the compliments and praise never stops when it comes to me)

But I am so sorry I haven't seen st trinians, I have failed you! 😓I'll still do the heist though. Maybe I'll split the winnings with you?

Yeah I think it means gift of Artemis though don't quote me on that.

Ah so that's it! I was thinking two Ms but it was actually two Es! Oh good I've been pronouncing it the right way this whole time. I've actually never heard that name before which is why I was curious.

Ok here are my plants (had to get some different shots to capture them all)

Here's my little strawberry too

They are very pretty! Daisies are super cute too!

Ahh they all look so cool! I'm sure you have very important meetings together, probably votes too. Who's the loudest in your meetings?

I will read it I've nearly finished my current book so I'll read it next. How can I not after a review like that.

Yeah there is! There's two separate series, there's one which follows the first 3 movies but adds some extra details in to each of the characters and one which follows original final destination storyline with 6 books in total. They're all pretty rare though, I've only got the 3rd movie book and the first 5 of the og series.

You give compliments so effortlessly though, I always find myself wanting to give compliments but getting too nervous to actually do so.

YOU SERIOUSLY HAVEN'T SEEN ST TRINIANS!? THAT'S LIKE UK TEENAGE GIRL 101, PLS TELL ME YOU'VE AT LEAST SEEN ANGUS THONGS AND PERFECT SNOGGING!?

You also missed out on this banger of a song which I still find myself humming to this day

[illfoandillfie]

Easy As A-B-C

Pairing: Professor!Gwilym Lee x Reader

Summery:  Professor Lee is getting sick of marking papers, you offer an alternative. One where he doesn't need to think at all.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected sex, bimbofication (without hypnosis), oral sex (m and f receiving), hand job, light dom/sub dynamic, dom!reader, sub!Gwil, overstimulation, maybe a little bit of hair pulling

Words: 4,537

A/N: This was massively massively inspired by my love @dracoladon​ and her Drarry fic Lucid (seriously, go read it because she’s a much better writer than me and also sex dumb Draco is hhhhhhh). Reading it made me want to write more himbo fics but without all the hypnosis stuff thats in my Future Management series. Then I got talking to @peachydeacon​ about himbo!Rog which led to talking about himbo!Gwil and this fic is the result of our discussion lmao. It was also partly inspired by a post on a porn blog that popped up on my dash but I can’t link to that because tumblrs dumb. 

Also, it is a professor gwil fic but set after reader has graduated so it’s all above board lmao

Blurb Advent: Day 24

Taglist:  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama​ @deakyclicks​ @jennyggggrrr​ @drowseoftaylor​ @hannafuckingsucks​ @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming​ @queenmylovely​ @ilovequeenmorethanyou​ @johndeaconshands​ @borhapbois​ @stardust-galaxies​ @cherries-n-rocknroll​ @rogersslave​ @scorpiogemini 

Gwilym looked unreasonably hot while he was grading papers, his brow knitted, wearing a look of serious concentration made all the more noticeable by the reading glasses sliding down his nose. His loose tie and the undone top buttons of his business shirt lent him a casually dishevelled air, and that wasn’t even mentioning the way he absentmindedly twisted his pen between his fingers as he read and reread sentences he was struggling to understand, occasionally pausing to underline something or write a note in the margins. It all painted a very sexy image, the kind of serious sexy only a professor could achieve, though this sexiness was nowhere near new. You’d found his manner oddly arousing even when he’d been your professor. Of course, that had been a few years ago and well before you’d had your chance encounter in the local second hand bookstore that led you to ask him out. He’d stuttered out something about never having even thought of you as more than his student and “really I feel almost as if I’ll get in trouble for the conversation as soon as I get back to campus.” But the awkwardness soon changed when you confessed to having had a minor crush on him back in the day and having since hoped to run into him. He seemed more open to the idea of dinner with you after that and, if you were being honest, more cocky too, but cocky in a decidedly dignified and charming way. Anyway, one thing led to another and now here you were somewhere close to a year and half later and you were struggling not to stare at Gwil as he graded papers and looked professor-ally disarrayed and hot.

You knew it was something to do with the Romantic era poets that the students had to write about because he’d read a question out to you earlier to get your opinion of if it was confusingly worded. “No, I don’t think so,” “Then why in god’s name do none of my students get it?” he looked about ready to hit his head against the desk until he passed out but he returned to the topmost paper with a sigh and ruffled hair from where he’d run his hand through it. That’s when you’d started trying not to stare. A tall order when all you could think about was dragging Gwil to the bedroom and ravishing him enough to make him forget all about John Keats and poetry and the English language itself. Not that that was exactly hard. No, Gwilym had a tendency to get a little dazed and confused when you really gave it to him. Sex drunk you’d decided to call it. A transformation that you quite delighted in witnessing and causing. Gwil was sharp as a tack usually, always ready with some obscure fact or quote from literature. It was part of what made him such a good teacher, his memory for all things bookish, as well as his approachable (if a little stern) demeanour and his determination to get the best from his students. But it wasn’t hard to shut down his brain, cloud his memory and entirely befuddle him. One time you’d snuck into the bathroom at the restaurant you’d gone to for dinner and poor Gwilym had become so spaced out he’d spilt half a glass of wine in his lap and then walked into the glass door as you left, even with you leading him by the hand. You supposed that what they said about great power and responsibility was true. All the same, it was a fun power to wield and you knew that, with the right sort of attention, you could have Gwilym babbling incomprehensible gibberish with no memory of what a poem even was, which was surely something he’d appreciate right about now.

You blinked yourself from your reverie as, finally, Gwil set his glasses aside and rose from his seat, groaning as he stretched out the stiffness in his back. He rolled his neck back and forth, your eyes following, before letting his shoulders drop and moving to sit next to you on the couch. “I can’t do it anymore, I can’t read another word about Byron or I’ll loose it.” He sighed, draping an arm around your shoulders and leaning into your neck. “Byron? I remember that assignment. Everyone hated you for it,” His breath was warm against your skin as he spoke, sending a tingle down your spine, “Well if this year’s lot is anything to go by, the feeling was probably mutual,” “Mmm, I remember one girl saying she was going to shove her copy of Don Juan up your arse if she didn’t pass,” He lifted his head again and laughed, “And yet my rectum remains Byron fee and no other injuries befell me, so either I taught you enough to get by or you were all a bunch of cowards,” “Bit of both probably. And why would this year’s be any different, huh?” “I don’t know, you haven’t read any of their attempts at cohesive analysis. Some of them are just throwing out terms like allusion and anapestic and personification all willy-nilly, clearly without properly understanding them. ” “I think you’re being too harsh on them. They’re first years after all and it’s not always easy to understand all that poncy poetical bullshit. Plus, you know it all already so of course everyone else seems stupid to you,” “Maybe,” he conceded, though it seemed to take some effort. “Honestly, someone should put you in their position, see how well you go with it,” “Yeah? And who would do something like that?” Gwilym laughed as you shifted to straddle his lap, accepting the kiss you offered, “You?” “Maybe I will. Spell personification for me,” “You know it’s not high school English, right. We don’t do pop quizzes on spelling and grammar.” “I know you don’t, but this is my subject and I’m testing spelling. Besides,” you let your hand drop between you, brushing lightly over the front of his pants, “I promise it’ll be fun.” Gwil gave a half-hearted eye roll, “P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N, personification. D’you want me to use it in a sentence too?” You knew he’d get it right. Gwil always had been good at spelling off the top of his head which you supposed was a side effect of all his reading and the years devoted to the written word. But it was still a little annoying. Mostly because he was being a bit of a tool about the whole thing, but it didn’t help that you’d grown quite wet thinking about how you’d like to have him, like to turn him into the fucked out airhead you’d seen before. You shook your head and tutted at him as if he got it wrong. “No, that’s definitely it. I’ve just read it about a hundred times, I know I’m right. P-E-R-S-O-N-I-F-I-C-A-T-I-O-N,” he spelt it faster that time, trying to prove that you were wrong. “Try allusion for me,” “A-L-L-U-S-I-O-N,” Right again. You sighed as if you were disappointed. Gwilym raised his eyebrows but said nothing. “What about caesura?” “C-E-A-S-U-R-A,” The mistake was an easy one to make, two letters flipped around the wrong way, and you could tell he knew it was wrong as soon as he’d said it. He was surprised when you leant forward to kiss him again, cupping his jaw with one hand as you dropped the other and slowly pulled down the zip on his work pants. “But I fucked up,” he said softly, eyes still closed as you pulled away a few centimetres. You just smiled as you thought of a new word, “Anapestic,” It was another word Gwil had mentioned as seeing in his student’s essays so you knew it would be fresh in his mind and he proved as much when he spelt it, “A-N-A-P-E-S-T-I-C,” He was right of course, so you tutted and pulled your hand away from his crotch, grabbing his chin with your other and forcing him to look at you, “You can do better than that.” His features shifted at the sudden loss of contact, the look of concentration returned once more. If anything, your much closer proximity to the expression made him seem all the more hot but you resisted the urge to give in and drag him to the bedroom, curious if he’d catch onto your little game now and, equally so, to see if he’d play along, “Try Onomatopoeia.” A longer word gave him more chances to get things wrong but would his pride and his brain allow that? Apparently so. “O-N-O-M-” Gwil paused and thought for a second, his eyes narrowed as his looked at you, “O-N-O-M-A-T-O-P-I-A,” the last three letters were said with such deliberate diction that you knew he’d figured it out. “Good boy,” you said, letting your hands slip inside his undone pants to massage his dick. His hips jolted at the contact and he let his hands fall to your arse, squeezing. “What about, dactyl?” His reply was instant, unthinking, and totally correct, “D-A-C-T-Y-L,” You clicked your tongue condescendingly as you once again removed your hands from him. “Fuck,” “Well that’s what happens when you get things wrong, honey, and such an easy one too,” “I didn’t get it wro- fine, give me another,” You smiled, unable to hide how delighted you were that he was interested in following your rules, even if it was just his competitive streak rearing its head to show that he could out smart you, “Assonance,” Gwilym spelt the word slowly and carefully, making sure to only say one ‘s’ and to leave off the ‘e’. And you made sure to reward him for it, shuffling backwards on his lap so you could shimmy his pants down his thighs and wrap your hand around his cock. He raised an eyebrow at you but otherwise made no comment as he leant back in his seat to enjoy the attention. “Romanticism,” Once again Gwilym was careful with his spelling, intentionally replacing the ‘c’ with a double ‘s’ but that was the kind of behaviour you wanted to encourage so you kept stroking him off, twisting your wrist, dragging your thumb over his flushed tip. It must have felt good with the way he was sighing, shifting his shoulders as if to move his whole body closer to yours. “So clever baby, what about,” you paused, dredging up memories of poetry analysis and the words you used to have burned into your brain but which you’d not had much use for recently, “Enjambment” “Ummm, E-N,” Gwil hummed as you leant over him and let a trail of spit drip onto his cock, using your hand to spread it over his length, “Enjamb-ment, uh, E-N-J-A- no E, no A, M-E-N-T,” You leant into his ear and spoke softly, “That’s right, being so good for me, so clever. What should I do next though? Ride you? Or maybe suck you off? Or just keep doing this?” “Uh,” Gwilym shook his head a little as if to clear it, “mouth? Please?” “Of course, baby. If you can spell dissonance for me.” You were quietly confident that he’d get the spelling wrong, already noticing the first sign of his impending brainlessness, extra filler words where he’d normally not need them. It was funny though, usually he wouldn’t reach that stage until he was much closer to nutting. “D-I-S” he rushed through the first three letters and then stopped, biting his lip, “T-um, A-N-E-N-C-E.” You were sure the errors in that word were less intentional than the previous few and, as promised, slipped off his lap and settled yourself between his legs, pulling his pants off so he could spread them wider for you. You held eye contact as you let your tongue trail along the underside of his cock, tracing along a vein, though you couldn’t help but smile as he groaned above you. “Can you spell Decasyllable for me?” you asked before closing your lips around the head of his cock. “What? Oh, um, D-E-C-K- fuck,” he broke off as you swirled your tongue around his tip. “Fuck’s not a letter, baby,” you sank down on him again, bobbing a little lower. “I know, um, Deck-syllable, D-E-C-K-A-S-Y-B-L-E, I think. Is that right?” In answer you hummed and took him a little deeper, pushing his shirt up towards his chest. Gwilym took the hint and pulled it off before he grabbed your hair, leaning his head against the back of the couch. For a moment you just focused on sucking him off, listening to his shallow breathing and whiny groans. But you weren’t finished with your game yet.

“Epigraph?” you asked before bobbing down on him again, pushing yourself to take him deeper still. Gwilym remained silent as you gagged and pulled back from him again to breath freely. “Well?” “What did you say?” “Epigraph. Can you spell that?” He nodded as you resumed your bobbing, his hand grabbing at your hair, “E-P-P-E-G-R-A-F-F.” You hummed around him and his hips bucked up, pushing him further down your throat for a second. “No, don’t stop,” he whined under his breath as once again you let him fall from between your lips. “Sorry baby,” you wrapped your hand around his base and switched back to jerking him off, “you’re so hard though and I know you want to earn your orgasm like a good boy,” Gwilym nodded. “Okay, so spell meter,” “M- oh, I don’t know,” “You do know, baby, you just gotta try. Meter,” He scrunched his face up in thought, “M-E-E-T-R,” “See, I said you knew it, and you did it so well!” Gwilym gave you a dopey smile, looking proud at your praise, “I did?” His mouth dropped open with the movement of your hand. “Of course baby! You got it completely right because you’re so clever. What about sonnet, do you think you can do that one for me?” He nodded enthusiastically, “S-N-E-T,” “Very good! Okay, three more and I’ll let you cum,” “Okay!” “Okay, what about,” you thought for a moment, watching your hand pumping over his shaft as you trailed your fingernails lightly over his thigh, “Spell rhyme,” “Ummm,” Gwilym bit his lip in thought, soft grunting noises rising in his throat in time with your strokes. “It’s a bit of a tricky one,” “Yeah.” “And it’s hard to concentrate isn’t it?” “Mmhmm, so hard to con-ten-tate,” he thought for a little longer as you slowed your hand, “rrr- R-I-M,” “So clever baby! Okay canto,” “Oh! Ummm,” Gwilym pouted and whined as you unexpectedly drew the tip of your tongue around his head, “I don’ know,” “No?” He shook his head, eyebrows furrowed. “Okay what about, poem?” Gwilym seemed to have reached the last dregs of his knowledge, grunting in frustration as he shook his head again.” “You sure you don’t know?” He bucked his hips up into your hand as he shook his head again. “Alright, I’ll give you an easy one then. Spell your name for me, spell Gwilym,” Gwil’s eyes lit up at the suggestion but his face quickly slipped into a frown again, the expression getting more pronounced with every passing second he didn’t say anything. He sought out your face, his eyes brimming with frustrated tears, “I don’t…” his fists balled up as he looked to you for help. “You don’t remember?” He shook his head once more, a tear shaking loose and rolling down his cheek, “you said it was easy.” “It’s okay if you don’t know,” “Really?” he sniffled. “Of course it’s okay. You’re not supposed to know things.” “I’m not?” “Awww, of course not baby. That’s why I’m here, to know things, and you’re just here to make me happy.” Gwilym sighed and leaned back against the couch, smiling again. “Do you want to give it a try for me?” “Umm,” he whined as you slowed your strokes “It would make me very happy,” “Okay, umm…G? L? ummmm, M?” “You’re so clever, baby!” Gwilym giggled proudly and grinned at you as you adjusted your grip on his cock. “You’re my good, smart boy, aren’t you baby?” “Mmhmm,” he bucked his hips towards you as you took him into your mouth again. “Feels go-od,” he mumbled, almost panting with how close he was. You dragged the hand that rested on his thigh up to cup his balls as you sucked on his tip until he moaned and came, spilling his seed over your tongue.

You kept working your hand along his length, even after you’d pulled your mouth from him. “Was that a good orgasm baby? Did it make you feel good?” He nodded, pouting a little as you kept wanking him, “good oggsam,” It took all your effort not to laugh at that, biting on the inside of your cheek to keep from letting so much as a chuckle slip. Very few things delighted you as much as when Gwil forgot how to talk properly. “You know,” you said as you finally let his cock free, “sometimes when people have orgasms they feel euphoric. Do you feel euphoric?” “Mmhmm, you-porik.” “Clever boy. Do you want to help me feel euphoric?” “How?” “With your mouth,” “Oh! Okay!” You braced yourself against his knees as you stood, leaning forward to give Gwil a small kiss on the lips. He closed his eyes and smiled up at you contentedly as you shimmied out of your own clothes, dropping them all to the floor. “You going to let me lie down?” you asked, tapping Gwil on the shoulder. He looked around confusedly for a moment before his eyes settled on you, growing wider as he realised how naked you were. Without warning he surged forward, his hands grabbing your arse as he nuzzled his face in the valley between your breasts. If it were up to Gwil he would have stayed there all day but you had need for him elsewhere so you yanked his head back by his hair, earning a small noise of displeasure. “Don’t complain, baby. You want to make me feel euphoric, right?” “Mmhmm,” he hummed earnestly. “And how do you think you could do that?” “I don’t know,” “Maybe, cunnilingus?” “cun-un-un-un-gus,” “Exactly,” you directed his gaze down to your pussy, failing to hide your amused grin. But he was too far gone to notice, happily slipping to his knees in front of you. Telling him to wait for a second, you climbed onto the couch and spread your legs, beckoning him between them once you were comfortable.

He hadn’t been able to say the word but that didn’t mean he wasn’t skilled at the act. A string of soft hums and throaty sounds rose to your lips as he licked your cunt, the scratchy sensation of his beard only amplifying the soft, wet, warmth of his tongue.   “Can you, oh, can you spell poem for me baby?” Gwilym hummed and then started naming letters, his mouth still pressed against your cunt as if he didn’t realise he couldn’t talk and suck at the same time. You didn’t bother to stop him when he said too many letters or correct him when all of them were wrong. You just let his breath wash over you, his tongue flicking against your clit with each new letter, eliciting longer moans and sighs from you. “Fuck Gwil,” you panted, “keep going,” “Keep going,” he repeated, his voice muffled as he dragged his tongue all the way down your slit and then back up again, making you whine. You jolted when he reached your clit again and pressed against his head, keeping him close to you, your other hand trailing up your chest to tweak your nipples and knead your breasts. Occasionally you’d give him an instruction – “faster please,” or “do that again,” or “fuck Gwil, right there,” – and he’d repeat the words back to you, softened and often a little slurred together or mispronounced, before doing as he was asked, drawing you closer to release. He was pleased whenever another groan or mewl slipped from your lips, responding to them with sounds of his own as if he were savouring a particularly delicious meal. It seemed he’d taken what you’d said about making you happy to heart, though some of his whines might have had more to do with his cock, hard again and straining to be touched as his attention remained focused on you. “I’m c-lose ba-by,” you grunted as Gwilym pressed his mouth to your lower lips, as if to give you a soft chaste kiss, only to begin shaking his head side to side, rubbing his face against your cunt. “loase,” he muttered to himself, trailing his tongue back up to your clit, making you grind your hips up into him. It was impossible to keep your mouth shut in the face of such a feeling, wantonly moaning as you felt your orgasm bubbling to the surface. Gwilym hummed against you in response to a particularly loud moan which managed to be your undoing, your knees trying to clamp shut around his head as he continued to suck at your clit.

When you calmed enough to let go of his hair and loosen your thighs from around his ears, Gwilym looked up at you. His face was shiny and wet but he seemed to have regained some of his usual awareness. His eyes weren’t quite as vacant and his smile less dopey than it had been. “Feel good?” he asked, sounding almost normal except for a slight lightness in his tone. “Very good baby,” you leaned forward and kissed him full on the lips, tasting yourself as he opened his mouth and accepted your tongue. Slowly you dropped your hand between you, finding his cock again, not quite done with your brainless toy. He grunted against your lips and bucked into your hand as you stopped his return to sense. “Isn’t this fun?” you said softly as you pulled back, holding Gwil by the chin to stop him from trying to follow. “Yeah, fun,” a smile slowly tugging at his lips, “what is?” “Not needing to think, baby,” “Oh! Yes,” he laughed. “You’re too pretty to have a brain anyway, aren’t you? Much better off letting it leak out of your head,” “Mmhmm, much,” “And do you know what good, dumb boys get?” “No?” “They get fucked. Would you like that?” “Yes yes yes,” “Alright, lie back for me,” you chuckled, giving his cock a final stroke. Gwilym settled on the carpet on his back, grinning as you straddled his lap. Silently he held out his hand, all but two of his fingers folded against his palm. “No, I don’t need your fingers sweetie,” you said, giving the tips of his two fingers a light kiss, “as dextrous as they are and as much as I enjoy them, I think I’m okay skipping straight to your cock,” He nodded, letting you place his hand down on the floor again. You watched his face as you slowly sank down onto him, once again the picture of cunt drunk bliss with glazed eyes and his lip between his teeth. He smiled as you leaned down to kiss him, rolling your hips against his slowly. As you tongues entwined again, Gwilym framed your waist with his hands, slowly dragging them up your sides and onto your chest. He cupped each of your breasts in one of his palms, squeezing softly as you rocked forward and back. “Better than Byron isn’t this?” you asked, pushing yourself up a bit, but not so far you couldn’t kiss him again. “Wha’s Byron?” You laughed, “Y’know I think this might be the dumbest I’ve seen you. Can’t believe all it took was a rigged spelling test. He obviously didn’t understand, staring blankly back at you.

What he did understand was that you were moving further away from him and he whined as you pushed yourself to sit higher again, bracing your hands on his chest as you used your knees to raise and lower yourself. It still wasn’t enough though so you shifted again before too long, placing a hand behind you to grab Gwil’s leg. You leant back on it changing the angle of Gwilym’s cock, and felt his hands drop from your chest, no longer able to reach as easily. They came to rest on your leg, his fingertips digging into your skin as you rode him, keening as you felt the start of your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. “Fuck Gwil, fill me so well, feels so good,” “My dex-ik-tus cock?” You couldn’t help but laugh, taken by surprise at his misunderstanding and mispronunciation of dextrous, but you nodded in agreement too, repeating your sentiments about how good it felt. “Wanna make me feel even better?” “How?” You sat forward again and reached for his hand, pulling it to your clit. Gwilym took the hint, messily rubbing as you bounced on his cock, but his whines and moans only grew as you rode him. “You’re close?” “Mmhmm,” You were on the verge of asking if he could hold it when he came with a groan, pulsing inside you. But you didn’t stop. “I’m close too, baby, so I’m gonna keep fucking you, okay?” He nodded, eyes fixed on you. “Good boy.” You panted, grabbing his wrist to hold his hand at your clit and adjusting your rhythm. Each time you sank back down onto him you did it harder, slamming his cock into you as deep as you could manage, groaning with each one. Your orgasm was frustratingly close but Gwilym was becoming steadily more sensitive as his subsided, wincing more with each of your thrusts. The winces turned to whimpers which turned to whines as you whispered that you were so close. “Almost baby, almost,” “Please. Hur’s,” “Nearly, just. One. More,” you threw your head back with a moan as you finally found your release, Gwil whining when you pulsed around him, a fresh tear running from the corner of his eye onto the carpet as he squirmed under you.

“Sorry, baby,” you said softly as you carefully dismounted him. He hummed as you kissed him again, leaving an extra kiss against the tip of his nose. “Did so well, such a good boy for me,” “Yeah?” “Mmhmm, so good,” He gave you a slightly watery smile and let you pull him into a cuddle, sighing contentedly when you brushed your fingers through his hair. You stayed like that for a while, knowing that later you’d regret lying on the floor for so long but unable to find the energy to move or the willpower to tell Gwilym you had to let him go. He gradually lost the fucked out expression, becoming more aware of his surroundings and more capable of clear speech. “How are you feeling?” you asked when you realised he’d blinked away the last of his sex drunk vacancy. “Better than before. Little tired but much more relaxed and very satisfied. And, before you ask, yes that’s satisfied and yes I can spell it if you want,” “I believe you.”

[bts-trans]

200917 BigHit’s Tweet

[네이버 포스트] 왜요? 우리가 빌보드 1위 가수 방탄소년단처럼 보이나요? ‘#방림이’가 전하는 따끈따끈한 첫 소식! 지금 바로 놀러 오세요! (@ https://m.post.naver.com/viewer/postView.nhn?volumeNo=29474347&memberNo=51325039…) #BTS #방탄소년단

[Naver Post] What? Do we look like Billboard Number 1 Artists BTS? The first piece of hot news from #Bangbell! Click right now! (@ https://t.co/KCLbyi7d0t) #BTS

Naver Post Translation

Keep reading for a plain text version of the blog post! For a picture edit version, please check out our twitter post!

Title: [BTS] 왜요? 우리가 빌보드 1위 가수 방탄소년단처럼 보이나요?

[BTS] What? Do we look like Billboard Number 1 Artists BTS?

여러분 안녕하세요~?! 네이버 포스트를 통해 처음 인사드립니다! (두근) 제 이름은 방림이, ‘방탄소년단 콘텐츠 소식 알림이’라는 뜻이죠! 앞으로 여러분들에게 방탄소년단의 다양한 콘텐츠를 띠링띠링! 알려드리도록 하겠습니다 ^ㅇ^

Hello everyone! I’m using Naver Post to say hi for the first time! (Excited)  I’m Bangbell, which stands for ‘Bangtan content news notification Bell’*! I will be ping!ping! pinging you with news about various BTS content. ^ㅇ^

(T/N: *The Korean name 방림 consists of 방/Bang from 'Bangtan' and 림/Lim from 알림, which refers to a notification bell/alarm.)

자 그럼, 오늘 방림이가 가져온 첫 번째 콘텐츠 소식은! (두구 두구…) 바로! 바로바로!

Okay then, the first content news I’m bringing you today is! (drum roll…) It’s! It is!

…

........... ……

……………………

…

………

바로! (feat. 적당히 해야지) (박수와 함성)

It’s! (feat. don’t overdo it) (cheers and applause)

“

아~ 이 친구들 빌보드 핫 100차트 1위 한 친구들 아니에요~?

“

“

Ah~ Aren’t these the guys who got #1 on the Billboard Hot 100 Chart~? 

“

(T/N: Reference to an interview clip where a Korean grandpa is able to name all the members of BTS. His passionate answer quickly went viral.)

맞습니다! 빌보드 핫 100차트! 1위! 가수에 빛나는 방탄소년단 분들을 모셨습니다!

That’s right! Billboard Hot 100 Chart! Number 1! Artists! The brilliant BTS have come together!

네이버 포스트 오픈 축하 기념! 빌보드 핫 100차트 1위 기념사진인데요! 방림이가 여러분들에게 빨리 보여드리고 싶어서 냉큼 가져왔답니다!

To celebrate! the beginning of Naver Posts, this is a Billboard Hot 100 Chart Number 1 commemoration picture! I wanted to show it to you as soon as I could and so I dashed here with it!

(Sash translation: Billboard Hot 100 Number 1 Artist Kim Namjoon/Min Yoongi/Kim Seokjin/Kim Taehyung/Park Jimin/Jeon Jungkook/Jung Hoseok)

A-yo! 우리가 누구? 비-티엣스!

Who are we? B-T-S*!

(T/N: *A reference to Jimin saying "A-yo! Who am I?" during 'The Red Bullet' concert in 2014. The members often refer to it as a joke.)

? ? ???? 방림이~ 장난 그만 치고 방탄소년단 사진 제대로 보여주세요..~^^ 앞모습 보고 싶단 말이에요. 이렇게 참는 나 제법 젠틀 해요.

? ? ???? BangBell~ Stop playing around and just show us the BTS pictures please..~^^ We really want to see how they look from the front. We’re holding back and being pretty gentle right now.

ㅎ..회..ㅇㅜㅓㄴ…앗! 첫 타자는 RM입니다! 왜요…? 우리가 빌보드 핫 백 1위 가수처럼 보이나요?

H..hwe w o n* ... Ah! First up to bat is RM! What...? Do we look like Billboard Hot 100 Artists**?

(T/N: *회원님/Hwewon literally translates to 'member' and in this case refers to a gym member.) **This is in ref to a meme that became popular among K-Armys after the release of the Ask Anything Chat with BTS on 6/9/20. RM's bulky arms prompted K-Armys to start a running joke about him looking like a personal trainer. The memes usually has RM, in the role of a personal trainer, saying something to the person he is training.)

빌보드 핫 백 1위 가수 비티엣스 김남준! 본새 난다!

Billboard Hot 100 Artist BTS Kim Namjoon! Looking good!

앗! 진의 넓은 어깨를 감당하지 못하고 흘러내려 버린 어깨띠? Hoxy… 잘생김에 놀라 흘러내린 건 아닐까? 쿡ㅋ 어깨띠 녀석 호강하네… ^ㅡ^

Ah! The shoulder sash that couldn’t handle Jin’s broad shoulders? Hoxy*... Did you fall off because you were shocked at his good looks? Shoulder sash, you little punk, you’re living the good life... ^ㅡ^

(T/N: 'hoxy' is internet slang meaning 'perhaps' or 'could it be?'. It is the Korean word for 'perhaps'/'could it be', 혹시 spelt out in English.)

저 좀 피곤한데 어깨에서 잠시 쉬었다 가도 될까요?

I’m a little tired, could I rest on your shoulders for a little while?

엥? 사진만 봤는데 아이스크림 한 트럭 먹은 거 같은 이 기분 뭐예요? ㄴ 저기요. 아이스크림 한 트럭 먹으면 배탈 나요. ㄴ 조용히 하세요. 아……… 달다.

Oh? What is this feeling, I feel like I’ve been hit by a whole truckful of ice cream just by looking at this photo? ㄴ Excuse me. If you eat a truckful of ice cream, you’re gonna get a stomachache. ㄴ Be quiet. Ah……… How sweet.

쁘띠 한 손이 포인트!

The little petite hand is the key point!

“정호석 잘생겼다…” “그만 말해.” “뭐?” “정호석 잘 생긴 거 다 아니까 그만 말하라고.” “그거 어떻게 하는 건데.”

“Jung Hoseok is good looking...” “Stop saying that.” “What?” “Everyone knows Jung Hoseok is good looking, so stop saying that.” “How do you expect me to do that?”

이번 겨울에는 제이홉 콧대에서 스키 타야지! 같이 탈 아미들 구함 (0/20200901)

This winter, let’s go skiing on J-Hope’s nose bridge! Looking for ARMYs who’d like to go together (0/20200901)

그거 알아요? 볼 콕이 제일 잘 어울리는 사람 1위는 바로 지민이에요. 출처 : 우리 집

Did you know? The person who suits the cheek poke the most is Jimin. Source: My House

(저 보x보x는 뭐야…? 애인인가 봐.. 곁을 떠나질 않네….) #JIMIM (출처: BTS 트위터)

(Who’s that BonoBono*...? It must be his lover.. It won’t leave their sides....) #JIMIM (Source: BTS twitter)

(T/N: *Bonobono is a popular kids animation character. He is the blue sea otter visible on the members' sashes.)

[속보] 루브르 박물관에 전시되어 있던 명화 실사화… “충격”

[Breaking News] Famous artwork displayed at the Louvre comes to life… “Shocking”

뒤통수도 잘생겼다? 오래 봤으니까 조금 바꿔 볼게요. 결론 : 옆모습도 잘생겼다.

Even the back of his head is good-looking? We’ve been looking at it for a while so I’ll change things up a little. Conclusion: Even his side profile is good-looking.

왜 인지는 모르겠지만 방림이는 지금 이 문장이 떠오릅니다. 기쁜���헹….. 코마워용….

I’m not sure why, but this sentence suddenly comes to mind, “I’m happy but..... Thankiew....” 

(T/N: A reference to something Jungkook said during the Wings Tour Final in 2017. He was in the midst of tearfully starting his ending comments when a fan shouted out from the audience that Jungkook was good-looking, causing him to thank her in the middle what he was saying. )

정구기는 코마워서 운 건데 울보라고 하면 서운하지.

Jungkook cried because he was thankful, so if you call him a crybaby he’ll be sad.  

아차차, 단체사진이 뒷모습만 있어서 아쉬웠다고요?! 더 보고 싶다고요?! 사진이 부족하다고요?!

Oh no, you’re sad because the group picture had only their side profiles?   You want to see more?! There weren’t enough group pictures?!

방림이는 바보야… 아미들 기쁘게 할 생각만 하는 바보…. 비티엣스 단체사진! 지금 바로 공개합니다!

Bangbell is a fool...a fool who only thinks about making ARMYs happy… BTS group picture! Here you go!

이… 이게 바로 핫 100 차트 1위 가수들의 멋짐, 인가?

Is...is this the glory of the Hot 100 Chart Number 1 Artists?

진짜_a_yo_우리가_누구_사진.jpg

A_Really_a_yo_Who_Are_We_Picture.jpg

방림이의 두근두근 첫 번째 포스트 모두 잘 보셨나요?! 방림이는 떨려서 포스트가 어떻게 지나갔는지도 모르겠어요! 저는 그럼 이만 다음 포스트ㅇ…. 네? 뭔가 빼먹은 게 있는 것 같다고요?

Did everyone have a good time reading Bangbell’s exciting first post?! I was so excited I didn’t even realise how the post came to an end! Okay then I shall get going and see you with the next post… I’m sorry? It feels like there’s something missing, you say?

흠 잠수

Hmm (REST)*

(T/N: *The literal meaning of 잠수/jamsu means to be submerged under water, but is also used as slang for when someone goes offline to avoid conversation. Similar to how (rest) is used on twitter for comedic effect.)

당! 연! 히! 네이버 포스트를 봐주시는 모든 분들께 방림이가 잊지 않고 자그마한 선물을 들고 왔죠~! 저장. 눌러요.

Of! Course! I didn’t forget, I’ve gotten a tiny present for all the people who read this Naver Post! Click. Save.

진짜_진짜_끝.post 방림이는 다음에 또 다른 콘텐츠를 알리러 찾아오도록 할게요. 봐주신 분들 감사합니다!

Really_Really_The_End.post I will be back next time with news about more content! Thank you to everyone who read this!

그럼 이만! 아-뿅! (아미 바이! 뿅!이라는 뜻)

Okay, that’s it! A-Poof! (It means Bye ARMY! Poof!)

[Note]

본 포스트는 빅히트 엔터테인먼트에서 직접 운영하는 포스트입니다.

This Naver Post account is personally run by Big Hit Entertainment.

* 위버스에서 포스트 즐기기 *

* Enjoy the post on Weverse *

(https://weverse.onelink.me/qt3S/de0ec06c)

[End note]

Trans cr; Aditi & Faith @ bts-trans © TAKE OUT WITH FULL CREDITS

[kimnamjoonsrightthigh]

1.2/Weekend chronicle/KNJ

Series Protector, protected

Part 3/?

Summary On your way home, you encounter someone in need of your help. Giving it earns you six new friends and one new enemy.

Genre(s) Drama, fluff, bit of angst, bit of antagonists to lovers, eventual smut, hurt/comfort.

Pairing Namjoon x Reader.

Warning(s) Alcohol consumption.

Tags Tourist!AU, reader is a clumsy brave idiot, Jungkook is everyone’s baby, possessive!Namjoon, this will be a long one.

Wordcount 1.8K.

Jungkook was waiting for you outside, the rest of the gang piled into the minivan behind him. He looked dashing in his midnight blue suit, and a glimpse into your Uber pumpkin chariot told you that the others had dressed up as well. You suddenly felt much better about your choice of dress, because you hadn’t been far off. At the same time, why the fuck are they wearing suits?

“You look very handsome, Jungkook,” you couldn’t stop yourself from blurting out, earning you a one of his tiny yet radiant smiles. He bowed before leading you to the car. Only when he opened the door for you did you realize that Seokjin of the many fanny packs was missing.

“He wanted to get there early, make sure our table is ready,” Namjoon explained from the passenger seat. Ever the leader, you thought, then squeezed yourself into the middle row between Jimin and Jungkook. Yoongi seemed to be napping in the backseat, head resting on Hoseok’s shoulder. Taehyung waved to you from his spot next to them.

The driver pulled back onto the boulevard and straight into evening traffic. Namjoon had his phone at the ready and opened to Maps. You were fighting down the urge to peek over his shoulder, or to ask the driver if he knew where he was going, or to guess from the direction where you could possibly be headed. The backseat was chatting quietly, and you hazarded a look in Jungkook’s general direction when you didn’t understand a word, as per usual. He was still beaming at you. His excitement, although contagious, made you even more nervous. The Uber was taking you north on the big avenue, then swerved right into K-Town. That didn’t surprise you much because one quick Google search of their names had told you that they were most likely Korean.

The car stopped and everyone piled out into a small parking lot. Before you get a chance to look around, Jungkook linked his arm with yours and pulled you along towards the side of the building. Red lettering across the façade spelt out “Park’s BBQ”. There was a flicker of anxiety settling in your stomach as you quickly replayed everything you knew about Korean BBQ in your head – which wasn’t much. You had never been to one, you worked at city hall, so you didn’t usually stray far from downtown for food or drinks, and Ani preferred ordering in to going out. 

Jungkook lead you up the stairs at the side of the building to a narrow walkway. The inside was very modern and very busy. Guests occupied almost all of the black table groups, chrome light fixtures glinted from above. Each table had a grill grate at the center, most of them in use, and you were surprised that the temperature was still so agreeable. Namjoon moved himself to the front of your little group and spoke to the hostess while Jungkook was still glancing at you expectantly from time to time. Yoongi and Hoseok were having a lively exchange, invigorated by the prospect of food. You were seated after only a few minutes, at a table that was already occupied by one fanny pack-less Seokjin.

Between the door and the table, your self-consciousness hat skyrocketed. You liked trying new things well enough, but a new restaurant with new people was a ways outside your comfort zone. To add to your unease, you had managed to sit down between Jungkook and Namjoon, one a comfort, the other a stressor. You were about ready to break a sweat, but as soon as you had all touched down at the table, you were engulfed in the guiding warmth and enthusiasm of your company. Yoongi tried to explain the different kinds of Sojus to you and which one you should not miss out on. They all ordered something a little different, promising to switch and share so everyone could have a taste. Even though Taehyung looked like he might have passed out when you mentioned that you weren’t much of a meat eater, you did try a bit of everything.

The ribs were sublime, and between the beef, rice and alcohol, you were soon lulled into a comfortable evening haze. In between bites, you asked them the questions that had kept you up the two previous nights: where had they been already, where did they want to go, how did home compare to the US, what did they do for a living, how did they form such a strong friendship in such a big group? Namjoon had to step in a few times to translate, but as the night wore on, you relaxed into your chair more and more. You had one elbow propped up on the table, head resting in your hand, listening to Hobi tell a story and laughing almost uncontrollably when your awareness of the situation hit you head on. You liked these guys, a lot. Even Namjoon had started opening up a few shots ago. He was next to you, closer than before, smiling into his hand while looking at his friends across from him. You had learned their nicknames first thing today, but something stopped you from calling him Joon or even Joonie. While Tae and Kookie were all smiles and goofiness, Hobi and Jin generous with their laughter, Namjoon towered over you even while sitting down and not above the occasional side-eye in your general direction. Maybe he wasn’t doing it on purpose, but he made you squirm in your chair just the same.

Before you knew it, ten was approaching. One of the waiters approached to tell you that it was nearly closing time. The smile died on your face. You thought of all the things in your apartment and your office that had been left undone over the course of the week and knew that calling it a night was the smartest thing to do. You really, really didn’t want to, though, so when Jimin suggested after-dinner drinks, no one objected. You were pleasantly buzzed from all the soju you had been drinking, and with a full belly and the warmth of yet another beautiful summer night, you wanted to make the most of it. As soon as you had finished thanking your new friends for the invitation, the power balance shifted back towards you. This was your city, after all, and they didn’t know the best places in town. You did. The Uber took you further East, into the strip between K-Town and downtown, where bars were good but not expensive.

“The Bucket?” Namjoon read out the squiggly writing on the front of the corner building. “Sounds… interesting.”

“The Bucket has been around forever,” you informed him before pushing the door open. The inside was fairly busy already and just when you thought you’d have to kill an hour at the bar waiting for a table to open up, you saw a group of young women grabbing their purses in the unison way that indicated that they were moving on. You snatched their booth up immediately.

“So,” Jungkook next to you said as soon as everyone was seated, “the Bucket. Am I translating that correctly?”

“Most likely, yes. It used to be a scene bar in the 90s, changed hands a few times and turned into this, eventually.” You indicated the general bucket-ness of the place, with its dark wood floors and darts boards and pool tables on one side, a highly polished glass-and-chrome counter on the other. The booths lined the back wall, smaller tables took up the place between them and the front.

“I’ll get the first round,” you said after the silence became a bit too long for your taste. When you got to the bar, you saw that Hobi had followed you there.

“Oh, hey,” you said when you spotted him right behind you, “Anything you guys may want to try?” There was no menu, but a board with most of the drinks and beers they were serving. You had been to this place every other week, though, and you had just the idea. Hobi was still engrossed in reading through the cocktail list while you ordered eight Landsharks and accepted the tray that was handed to you over the counter.

“Shots?” Yoongi sounded almost hopeful when you got back to the table.

“Not quite!” You managed to put your prize down without spilling or even jostling the glasses before squeezing back into your seat between Namjoon and Jungkook. There was an excited smile on your face, considering you hadn’t opened an evening like that in forever. You grabbed one of the shot glasses and raised it. “Tequila.” You pointed at the pints. “Beer.” Then you dropped the shot glass into the pint where it promptly sank with a soft clinking sound. “Landshark.”

“Poktan-ju?” Jimin asked no one in particular. Affirmative noises were being made around the table. Seven more shots were sunk into the waiting arms of beer, then you all raised your glasses. Whatever you had been expecting from them, being able to hold their liquor as well as they did was not on the list. Soon, you had become the second loudest table in the place, laughing and sharing anecdotes and asking stupid questions. Conversation flowed easily and you became more than buzzed as the clock ticked on. You considered yourself to be somewhat of an expert drinker, but by midnight the room started to look a little unsteady to you, even though your worldview had softened around the edges. Jimin, who had been downing his drinks like water, had joined Tae and Jungkook in their peanut slinging competition, Yoongi and Jin were singing along to the music at odd volumes, Hobi stared into the void and Namjoon – was silently nursing his beer. When he threw his arm around your shoulders, you didn’t think twice before leaning back against him.

“You guys are so much fun,” you giggled into his dress shirt. He smiled, you thought, and in your inebriated state, you were hit with the sudden realization of how good he smelled. It took most of your strength not to start sniffing him. “Like, ridiculously fun. And so good at drinking!”

“Korea has a very, uh, intense drinking culture,” he slurred. Before he could go into detail about that, Jimin, who you hadn’t realized had left in the first place, returned to the table with a tray of shots.

It took you until Sunday afternoon to resurface. You came to on your couch, face buried in your assortment of throw pillows, still in your dress and tights, but braless. A small construction site seemed to have sprung up inside your head since you last used it, or so it felt. Your mouth was dry and your movements sluggish as you tried to get up. When you managed to stand, you almost slipped on your phone. It lit up under your foot and displayed a whooping 34 unread messages and two missed calls. Only one coherent thought managed to form in your mind: what the fuck? 

[blackevermore]

x Secrets of The Lake: The Company of Misery and Pain

{ Chapter 12 }

Summary: Vladimir Masters’ family tree has always been tainted by secrets swept under the rug. From generation to generation there have been countless reasons the Masters’ family had seemed to keep private from the public. Even to this day, Vladimir was no exception. But what was one to do when a restless spirit from the settlement years finally breaks free from restraints and demands you answer for your ancestor’s crimes? Vladimir doesn’t know. However, Clockworks does.

Notes: We just having fun, rewriting some of the canon, new adventure new characters. I will apologize now for any grammar, spelling, weird sentence structuring in advance. My brain writes faster than my fingers and even when I go back through to reread it I still miss things. Sorry about that!

Word Count: 3992

P.s: This chapter was...something to say the least. Maybe a bit out of place but I promise I'll make up for it.

He didn’t know how long he stared into his computer screen, watching the cursor blink impatiently for the rest of the email. There were only three lines worth reading and the first two were introductions of having a good day and hoping to be found in good health. After that, he couldn’t remember his mind fading away until he heard the sound of his office phone ringing. Blinking a few times and determining the email could wait till later. He closed the laptop and turned towards the phone to check the small caller ID screen. It was another business call that the secretary pushed through and Vlad didn’t really feel up to answering it. He pressed the wait button then switched the lines to call to the secretary desk.

“Yes, Sir?” The chipper voice answered and Vlad winced, she was always too happy for his liking.

“Hold all my calls.” Vlad loosen his bowtie from around his neck and shrugged off his suit jacket.

“Of course, Sir.” Vlad hung up the call and leaned back in his chair taking a deep breath and letting it out. Ever since he left the house he could feel a small throbbing pain in his core. He did his best to ignore it, waving it off as nothing more than a phantom pain from a few days ago. But as he tried to go about his day he found himself wincing and clinching his chest every so often. The amount of ‘are you okay’ and ‘do you need a moment’ were getting rather annoying, and thus an hour ago Vlad locked himself inside his office. A slow hand made its way up to his chest once more and Vlad held it there. Tayonna must have really tied herself to him during their first meeting for pain like this to continue. As another faint throb did its course, Vlad felt himself being somewhat paranoid and worried. For who or for what he didn’t know, but the emotions were there and he didn’t know what to do with them. And then, like a snap of a finger, the emotions and the pain in his core were all gone, leaving him breathing heavy.

He sat up and rubbed his temple trying to figure out what was happening. He couldn’t continue like this until the end of the day. Making up his mind he grabbed his jacket and headed towards the door.

“Sir?” the secretary jumped as Vlad stormed past her.

“I’m ending my day early, any messages or papers that I need to review I will do so tomorrow. Good day Mrs Andrews.” Vlad didn’t care that he was yelling halfway across the office space as he headed towards the elevator. When he hit the button for the elevator he quickly grew anxious as he watched the floors ding one by one. Cursing the world he turned on his heels and walked over to the stairwell. When the door closed behind him and he peeked over the railing to make sure he was actually alone, he turned ghost and zoomed down to the last floor. Turning human again he quickly walked out the emergency exit towards the parking lot. It was when Vlad finally made it to his car and into the driver's seat that he realized he didn’t want to go home. Naturally, he would be on autopilot after work to get in and drive home. But right now, in the newfound free time he has given himself, he didn’t want to go there. Empty or not. Starting the car Vlad chose not to make any real decisions and drove any which way he felt like turning the wheel.

For three hours Vlad mindlessly drove around Amity enjoying the scenery. Even in places he visited constantly he found new hidden beauties. Has the town always been this lovely? Vlad couldn’t recall nor really remember how often he was able to go out and actually look. Of course, Vlad made sure to do his mayoral duties while in office which consisted of many community projects. But he never truly got to see the outcomes of them, this was amazing, more so than he imagined. He made a mental note that he would have to put time aside for himself to go out in nature. By boy scout honour Vlad swore it that he and nature would once again connect in dear time. As Vlad continued to drive around somewhere on the lower east side of the town a call came through his car’s display. 

“Masters speaking,” Vlad answered.

“I called your office and Almeria said you ended your day early?” Kate sounded a bit breathless on the other end, she was most likely walking somewhere. Vlad huffed quietly.

“Today doesn’t seem like my day either.” He grumbled.

“Water pipes still busted?”

“Hmm...yes and it cost so much to get them repaired.” Vlad had nearly forgotten the lie he had told everyone. Between the morning meetings, the concerned employees, and the pain in his core, Vlad didn't really hold that lie up as important to remember since no one had asked.

“You’re rich, you should be fine. I called to tell you I finished meeting with one of the historians at the Virginia State Library.” Kate pulled away from the phone to give a quick ‘pardon me’ then continued. “There weren’t any recorded documents of any members of your family settling nor doing business in central Virginia during the 17th century. As you know the records the state library has ranges across the whole state. However, there is another library that I’ve contacted that has another set of records that covers small businesses and land that also date back as far. I’ve already set up an appointment to meet with them tomorrow.” Kate pulled away from the phone once more to order a small coffee and a cookie and Vlad felt his sweet tooth spring to life.

“Well good news to you, Miss Way, I have a name that will narrow your search. Vladan Masters, or at the time Masters would have been spelt M, the A and the E would have been mashed together, G I S T E R. Look closer to the end of the 1600s as that’s when he would have been of age or so.” Vlad felt a weird shiver crawl up his back as he spoke the name. Almost like hands latching onto his shoulders and shaking him a bit. He quickly rolled his shoulders and tried to shake it off but it still lingered.

“Right, thank you, Sir, I’ll let you know what I find.” Vlad hung up the call and before he could actually figure out where he was during his little drive. He was parking his car right outside his home. Vlad didn’t want to go in, but he couldn’t sit in the car the rest of the day. ‘You seriously can’t allow some ghost to kick you out of your own house’ Vlad thought to himself taking another look out the side of the passenger window up towards his mansion. 

“Of course not,” Vlad scoffed and got out of the car and headed up the stone steps to his front door. Looking around for any nosy neighbors to make sure the coast was clear. Vlad ghosted through the door and hung up his jacket on the coat hanger. He couldn’t feel any form of energy on the main floor, the house felt almost as cold as it did a few years ago. Vlad hated to remember how empty and alone he was during his darker years of self isolation. He could remember how sad he actually was when the only person waiting for him was Maddie the cat. But when she passed the home grew cold till Dani was brought back and welcomed Vlad’s offer. Vlad teleported into the kitchen in a poof and looked around, nothing, he poofed to one of the living rooms and still no one, he did this all over the first floor until he confirmed the ghost wasn’t around. He floated upstairs and towards the guest room and looked inside and that’s when a feeling of calm settled through his body. Tayonna sat on the bed looking out the windows down towards the garden.

“Evening Miss Tayonna,” Vlad cleared his throat and walked inside but stayed close to the door. The ghost turned around from the window and Vlad could have stumbled over himself at the sight of her. The sun was high in the sky and hung over her like a halo and made her seem to glow. Specks of the sun peeked through her curls warming her skin into a soft brown with red undertones, and her eyes seemed to glow a soft green. She has always taken my breath away. She still wore her stoic expression of wariness and yet it made her seem untouchable. Vlad didn’t know he was holding his breath until his lungs began to scream for air. He tried to not make it obvious as he exhaled and nodded towards her.

“Masters.” Tayonna nodded back towards the man then turned back towards the garden. Vlad felt his heart sting in pain at how cold his name came from her lips. Had he wished for her to call him the wrong name again? Or maybe just not as bitter? He was used to others calling him Masters in an aggressive manner but with this ghost, Vlad knew he didn’t like it.

“I would like to talk to you about this problem you are facing and see if I will be able to aid you.” Vlad didn’t move from his spot, he knew moving closer wouldn’t be a smart move, and the last thing he needed was a blast to the face. One less fight was best for the both of them. 

“Help me? How can you help me when you-...when he isn’t here to be held accountable for his crimes.” Tayonna’s words were bitter and came as more of an attack on Vlad even when she corrected herself. She pulled her knees closer to herself and tucked her head into the space between her body.

“Well for starters you could begin with telling me where you’re from and how you became a part of my family.” Vlad tested the water by taking a few steps closer towards her but quickly stopped when he saw her jerk up and narrow her eyes at him. He held up his hands and raised his eyebrows to show he meant no harm and Tayonna seemed to let her guard down. “May I?” Vlad pointed to the edge of the bed and Tayonna pulled her feet in so there was more space between them. Vlad took that as a yes and sat down comfortably on the edge. He crossed his legs and waited for the other to respond to him. He hoped it would be soon because his tolerance was low and he wouldn’t be doing this all night if he didn’t have to.

“I was brought from the coast, stolen from my people and bought by yours.” Vlad wanted to correct her, his family hadn’t done it, but he knew she meant more so the colour of his skin. “Luther picked me like a friend and his parents were against it.” Vlad wanted to cheer for the fact he had been right. “But he begged them and eventually I was brought to their home. I was ordered to stay by Luther’s side and aid him.” Vlad was surprised by how much he was getting from her. He was sure all day yesterday it would have been hard to get her to talk. But he supposed it was better than having to build up trust over the course of days then finally getting somewhere.

“Do you remember where the family lived?” Vlad turned more towards the girl in hopes he could read her expression. He could tell it pained her to talk about it. Before Vlad could register what he was doing he stuck out a hand and took hers, flipping it over so her palm faces upward and used his thumb to rub circles in the middle. Tayonna gasped softly and she looked between him and what he was doing before yanking her hand back towards her. “I-I’m sorry, I have no idea why I did that.” Vlad held his head and quickly turned away from her. At that moment he had a strong thought that he knew how to calm her down. He knew exactly how to use his thumb to draw small circles and how it would make her feel a bit better. When he touched her, he even felt calmer, relaxed and dare say remorseful.

“No, I don’t,” Tayonna answered and turned back towards the window. Vlad nodded and shot to his feet to leave. He didn’t turn back as he strolled towards his bedroom and slammed the door behind him. Vlad quickly kicked off his shoes and fell into his armchair. His mind was now a scattered mess as he scolded himself for doing something inappropriate, if he kept feeling this pulling feeling towards her he was going to get nowhere. Every time he got too close, Vlad’s mind would draw a blank and he would feel and think things that weren’t true. He felt dangerous emotions he would consider private and untouched that would muddy and mix. Vlad grumbled a fruit and snapped his fingers. A ghost maid was quick to manifest beside him and he told her to bring him a drink. Within seconds the maid was back with a tray of not only a full glass but also the whole bottle. Vlad smirked and silently thanked her for being so generous. 

He slowly took sips as he thought of something else to distract him. Work, no, the drive home, not enough, how annoyed he was, that was never a good one. Then finally he found it, though he had told himself he had moved on slightly he still couldn't help himself to think of Madeline. The way her beautiful blue eyes shined as bright as the moon, or the way her now short fiery hair framed her much more mature face. The way she laughed, the way she carried herself with so much power and confidence, the way she could be so serious and yet so caring. Surely it had to be from having children that made her softer but underneath she was hellfire and Vlad could only dream of having her. Dream of what it would have been if he had had the chance to truly woo her.

I have to say sorry, she has to understand. There it was, the little voice in his head that he couldn’t make vanish. Understand what? Vlad shook his head and took another sip of his drink trying to get back to his little fantasy. ‘Maybe two drinks would be better than one’ Vlad thought to himself and finished off the rest before pouring more. I was scared, we both were scared. ‘Scared of what?’ Vlad didn’t want to acknowledge the voice, he didn’t care, he wanted nothing more than to forget about it. He tried to down his second glass but the burn in the back of his throat made it a bit impossible. Vlad was never a heavy drinker unless time called for it, but he always had to drink slowly even then. ‘What were you scared of?’ Vlad grumbled and tried his best to ward off the voice and his lingering questions. She has to know why I did it. Vlad quickly figured out the voice in his head spoke of something else. But of what was still a mystery.

“Shut up,” Vlad grumbled but that only made the voice get louder and louder. It had started as a whisper yards away, but now it was as loud as someone speaking right into his ear. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” Vlad covered his ears as the voice started to ramble on and on about forgiveness and how sorry it was. Then like an ice shower, the voice in his head changed and sounded just like him. I love her. Vlad felt something standing behind him and jumped from his seat and turned around to shoot off an ectoblast. He manically looked around and soon landed on the red mist floating down towards the ground and slipping out of the door.

“Get away from me!” Vlad's ears rang in slight pain as Tayonna’s voice rose to a dangerous scream. He stumbled over his feet to get out of his room, the red mist was slowly making its way towards the guest room and Vlad heard Tayonna scream again. I had to protect her. Vlad knew these weren’t his thoughts but he felt the pull of energy flowing through him to aid Tayonna. He turned into Plasmius and shot through the walls until he arrived in the room. Vlad gasped as the room was filled to the ceiling in the red mist swirling around like angry thunder clouds. Tayonna was no longer on the bed but the floor on her knees holding herself. Vlad flew down and tried to touch her but a force threw him back against the wall. 

Vlad groaned and got back onto his feet, in front of him the mist pulled together like a thick wall between him and Tayonna. Tayonna was beginning to cry and Vlad felt his body act on its own as he tried to shoot down the wall with an ectoray. But like jelly, the mist gobbled up his shots and swallowed them. As he continued his attacks the mist twisted inwards forming into a face. Vlad’s face but in a way he was unfamiliar with, pure anger and laced linings of betrayal. The mist then began to shrink into a silhouette of Vlad and slowly stocked its way towards him. Vlad gritted his teeth and clenched his fists as he activated his electric powers. He could only faintly remember Tayonna doing this so it had to work. As the mist got closer Vlad shot at it, stunning it a few times but never stopping it fully. The closer it got the angrier Vlad was and a bit worried about what was going to happen. Tayonna was still too choked up on the ground to do anything, not that she could with the collar on. 

“Blasted!” Vlad yelled cursing himself for putting that thing on her. She would have been so helpful right now. “You’re nothing but memories of the past! You’ve done nothing but make her restless and cause trouble for everyone.” Vlad didn’t know why he spoke to the mist as if could hear. But somehow he knew it understood him by the way it would stop a few times. He watched as the mist’s face would halt then twist back into anger, his anger, his rage, Vlad felt it. “Memories can be destroyed, forgotten, and even replaced! You are nothing!” Vlad yelled out once more but that seemed to only make it worse. Within a few quick like static steps, the mist took hold of Vlad by the neck in a vice grip. 

Vlad’s eyes widened as the red mist started to turn human, starting from the fingertips the mist vanished and a tan hand gripped tighter. Like water being sucked out of a stream the mist finally reached the face and Vlad’s heart stopped beating and his core ran cold. He was staring a variant of himself right in the eyes, like an angry lion who had finally had enough of its prey. The doppelganger was every bit of Vlad had he never been shot by Jack’s prototype. Tan skin that saw the softer days of being outside, vibrant cold blue eyes, and dark raven hair that fell a bit beyond the shoulders. But this Vlad seemed so out of place by the clothes he wore. Like a puzzle solving itself Vlad knew now. This was Vladan. This was the person Tayonna was looking for. 

“Then we must help her forgive.” Vlad felt the chills run down his back as he heard his own voice but with a thick German accent. As he tried to pull away and attack once more his doppelganger pulled him closer and squeezed his neck. Vlad gasps and he wishes he hadn’t as he felt the mist starting to fill his body. Vladan began to fade away but the grip on Vlad’s neck stayed as all the mist was sucked into his body like smoke. It burned the back of his throat as the fire in his body became sporadic. He felt a clench on both his heart and his core as mist filled his lungs and seeped into his bloodstream. Every muscle in his body began to clench causing him to fall to the floor only being able to catch himself with his hands. Vlad’s vision began to blur in pure red and he was blind to everything around him. Vlad felt himself fighting and losing control over his body as the pain shot up and down, finally nesting into his chest. He couldn’t scream, the only sound to leave his body were broken breathless grunts and pants. His airways were beginning to collapse.

“Let go of him,” Vlad could faintly hear Tayonna’s voice getting close to him. “Get away from him or I’ll take all of us down.” Tayonna crawled towards Vlad and shakenly placed her hand on his back. She said something in a language Vlad couldn’t understand before a wave of pressure shot Vlad down completely to the ground. The hold on his body released as Vlad heard himself scream above him. The mist lifted halfway out of Vlad’s body with a painful scream then dove back in. Tayonna said the same words over and Vlad felt the weight of the world push him down again. He didn’t feel any pain anymore from his chest but whatever Tayonna was doing did start to hurt. Vlad tried to push himself up to stop Tayonna but she pushed him back down with the same line of words. 

“Tayonna wait,” Vlad said breathlessly and weakly as he once again tried to get out of her hold. “Tayonna stop.”

“Get out of him!” Vlad had somehow managed to roll away before Tayonna could mumble her words again and send him slamming into the floor. Vlad felt his powers cave and he turned human. His hair had managed to fall out of its ponytail and pool in front of his face. Vlad didn’t have the strength to push it out of his way as he felt Tayonna move closer to him. He felt her hand inch closer and he quickly spun around to grab her wrist and pull her down. He rolled them on the floor so he was now on top of her with a tight grip on both of her wrists. He panted hard, he felt so tired but yet he had to keep her down. Inside his body he could still feel the mist travelling through him and then settled into the middle of his core. With a deep gasp, Vlad felt the mist absorbed itself into him. Still breathless and near the brink of passing out, Vlad let go of one of her wrists and brought his hand to her cheek.

“Meine Geliebte,” Vlad knew it wasn’t he who whispered it but he felt the power behind it as he finally felt his body give out and roll off of Tayonna. Tayonna was frozen to the ground as she replayed the words over and over in her ears. Through the same colour eyes, Tayonna saw the man she had once loved. A single tear rolled down her cheek as her eyes stayed wide and her body became numb.

[hazbinhoteltheories]

What if the Demons' names refer to how they died? Like, Angel Dust is another term for PCP and he died of a drug overdose. "Alastor" means "avenger" - maybe he was killed by someone trying to avenge one of his victims?

The Angel Dust one is pretty much canon. The drug he overdosed on was actually angel dust. So he literally named himself after the drug that killed him. The Alastor one also makes a lot of sense. He was a serial killer, so chances are a lot of people wanted him dead. 

As for everyone else, I don’t know if I could link everyone’s names to their deaths. I think a lot of them are tied more to their personalities and who they are as characters. But if it was true that all their names refer to how they died, it would make for some clever foreshadowing and it would be fun to make guesses on how they died. And I do think some of their names are, at least partially, tied to their deaths and for the sake of interaction, and because I overthought one of these submissions again I’m going to go ahead and list those and what I think each character’s name means in general.  

Vaggie: Vaggie’s name started out as a joke. It was going to be short for Vagena and no prizes shall be given for what some of the others mostly Angel Dust would have called her. I have no way of knowing if this is still true, as this information came from her earliest concepts, but I think it is because Vaggie’s nickname/the name most people call her hasn’t changed.

Husk: The word husk means an outer shell and an empty husk is vacant and hollow, with nothing on the inside. This word is often used to describe people who have lost all the qualities they had before. Or people who don’t have anything within them at all. This is so in sync with Husk’s character, it’s almost self-explanatory why he chose it but I think it could have a double meaning. Given that Husk struggles with a gambling addiction and that he lived to be an old man, I think it could represent what was left of him by the time he died. After he had long since lost everything.     

Nifty: Nifty is a somewhat dated trendy buzz word. The 1950′s equivalent of neat or cool. But its actual definition, or at least the main one, is particularly good, skilful or effective. This could mean that Nifty herself is highly skilled or very good at what she does, which is why she works for Alastor. But of all the characters in Hazbin Hotel, I think Nifty might have put the least amount of thought into what she wanted people to call her. So even though I think the potential for a deeper meaning is there, I think consciously, she just went with her favourite word. 

Katie Killjoy: I think Kaite took inspiration for the name she chose from her job. News anchors cover all the terrible things that happen in the world and broadcast far more bad news than good. Most news stories are really depressing and I think Katie was aware of this. I think she knew full well that her reports were bumming people out. That, even if the people watching at home were in a good mood, she sucked out anything positive they were feeling with her daily reminders that the world sucks. To them, she was a downer. A buzzkill. A Killjoy. 

Tom Trench: Here’s one whose name I think does tie in solely with his death. I think he literally died in a trench while fighting in the First World War. Possibly from a gas attack, which is why he’s stuck wearing a gas mask all the time.

Mimzy: Mimzy is a nonce-word created by Lewis Caroll and it means a blend of miserable and flimsy. The only thing I have to say about that other than yeesh is that having this be her name could really mean anything. It could refer to her career or a relationship or just her life in general. It could maybe, not really likely, have a tiny per cent chance of being tied to her death. If the only guess I have for how she died somehow turned out to be miraculously right. I always had a feeling Mimzy was sentenced to death for the crime of murder, just because she strikes me as the type that would poison her husband for the insurance money. If that turned out to be true, it could symbolize how she tried to appeal her sentence and lost. Prisons tend to take their sweet time when it comes to executing someone on death row. This would have especially been the case for Mimzy, as I don’t think they would have been keen to execute a woman in the 1920′s. She might have had time to make multiple appeals for a lesser sentence only for them all to be denied and the word that became her name might have been the best word to describe how she felt. About the fairness of her trials and to have her hopes for survival dashed over and over.

Baxter: I couldn’t find much about Baxter’s name I thought could mean anything. It’s an Anglo-Saxon/Scottish name meaning Baker and it’s more commonly a surname than an actual name. I doubt very much that Baxter was a baker when he was alive but there was a form of this name, Bakster, that was feminine, with Baker being the masculine equivalent. So for anyone who thinks Baxter might be transgender, that could be more fuel to add to the fire. Or that could be me grasping at straws. Other than that, I’ve really got nothing other than pure guesses. It might have been an alias he took on. It might have been the name of someone he was close to and wanted to remember. Or it might have been his real name and he couldn’t be bothered to change it. 

Crymini: Crymini’s name is taken from the word Criminy. Which is basically a mild oath expressing surprise or disbelief. I think those two words could some her entire outlook of the situation she’s in. Surprised that she died so young. Disbelief that she’s in hell. A place she might not have even believed was real. Or that her death came out of nowhere and happened in a way she would have never seen coming. I also think the way her name is spelt is quite interesting. Obviously, if this was a mistake, it would have been corrected by now so it must have been intentional. It looks like her name is comprised of two words, cry and mini and perhaps this was a way of giving yet another character’s name a double meaning. Perhaps these words refer to Crymini being in despair and feeling small or insignificant. 

So there you go. To some it up, I think the ideas and meanings behind the names of each of Hazbin Hotel’s characters are different and unique to them. And while there could be lots of different things their names refer to, one of them could indeed be how they died.

[docholligay]

"I have a 25 page document of snippets" 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

I APPRECIATE YOU THINKING THIS IS ANYTHING WORTH CARING ABOUT. It is not, I assure you, as it is mostly one offs, jokes, or highly indulgent BS, but assuming that WOULD be something you are into, a fewq of them are behind the cut (Its mostly overwatch, because most SM things, I assume people care about. SM things are in bold, for those looking for that.) 

“I feel like I should be drinking champagne and wearing a dress cut a little too high in a room full of men who don’t appreciate me”

*******

"I gave you sunscreen before the hike." Pharah was unmoved as she walked to the fridge. 

"Well SOME OF US keep all the melanin in our bloody bodies in a few dots on our faces, love, and that's the 'ole of it." Tracer slathered aloe on her back. 

"This sounds like a personal problem" 

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

“You SHOT ME, Jesse!” She pointed her pistol at him. 

He put up his hand. ‘And you’re right to be mad about that--” 

“Oh, get stuffed!” 

She sounded insulted, as if he had stolen her lunch from the company fridge rather than nearly killed her. It was like fighting with a sibling, bickering with her, who should be near his age but looked the same as he’d last known her, the same as she’d always looked. A sister nagging at her brother.

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

Rei crossed her arms in some flavor of disapproval as she looked down the row of bassinets, the brightness of the room that was generally her friend annoying to her here. It was no good to her when EVERYTHING was white, when EVERYTHING was bright. It was just as bad as everything being dark, with the added flavor of wrongness sour in her mouth. In the dark, things could be warm, things could be quiet, and things could be safe, but things were only bright white to be bleached clean, black covered things, but white washed them away. 

She looked down at the tiny baby, here in this palace to nothing. 

"You have to get better," She looked around briefly for a chair, quick enough that no one would notice the effort, and, since she could not find one quickly she did not try and longer. Standing was better for the seriousness of her speech, anyhow. "Because your sister likes Mina better. I have to be someone's favorite. And since I'll be your favorite, you are going to be the most successful and strongest kid this hospital has ever seen."

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

“We’ve got Oscar VIctor Echo Romeo Whisky Alfa Tango Charlie Tango Hotel on site, please advise.” 

Tracer stared at him flatly. “Yeah, and while they’re advising you, tell them we can Sierra Papa Echo Lima Lima.” 

He looked at her like she had cracked some code, the note of surprise on his face both marked and insulting. 

“I’m a bloody pilot!” She tossed her hands into the air. “I was raised by pilots!” 

He nodded and walked away, mumbling into his radio again. 

“Tracer--” 

“Me first picture book was the bloody phonetic alphabet!”

“I do not think anyone doubts--” 

She paused, hands on her hips, and took on a curious expression, the rage of the moment giving way to a chipper sort of memory just as quickly. “Thought me name was spelt Lima Echo November Alfa till I was five, I did.”

**********

Mercy kept a few simple things at the side of her bed, and Tracer looked through them. A notebook with a pen tucked into the spiral. A few letters from Montana. A brown leather book with gold writing on the cover in Hebrew and German. Of course it would be German. Why wouldn’t it be? A blue book, Hebrew on the cover, which Tracer almost tossed to the side until she noted the English at the very bottom of it.

“Tryin to bloody well read this thing! And it’s backwards!” 

“I certainly hope it doesn’t matter, Ang. Barooch ataw adoughnay, elohinu melech ‘a olam--” 

“I don’t think that’s right.” Winston put a cloth on Mercy’s head. 

“Well, if anyone else would like to be an authority on the Jewish religion, I welcome the ‘elp.” She looiked back at the book, “This bloody unit ‘as the diversity of a 90’s cartoon”

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

Ana wheeled around

“I understand, Fareeha. I wasn't there for you! Get a therapist. Work it out. You think my mother was there for me?” 

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

“Have you lost your fucking lesbian mind? Haruka, talk about shit that will get you kicked out, fuck, THAT SHIT WILL GET YOU KICKED OUT! Not her! She will never have to pay for it!” Minako crouched down in front of her and forced Haruka to look at her, “Girls like her do not pay for that shit, Haruka. We do. They will split us up.”  

Haruka shook her head. “We’ll get kicked out together, if we do, and when Michiru graduates--”  

“You fucking!” Mina exploded to her feet, pulling at her hair, “You’re not an adult! You think social services isn’t gonna put you in some shithole? You think some shithole’s gonna keep us together?” She whirled back and looked at Haruka. “They will split us up, Ruka. You keep parading this in broad daylight, and they will split us up.”  

Haruka got up, taking a deep breath, her eyes shining and wet.  

“I’m really tired of being ashamed, of,” she took another deep breath, “everything that I am. I’m not smart, and I’m not, girly, and everyone’s telling me I’m not, you know,” she took a deep breath, staring at the ceiling, and for a moment there was nothing but the sound of her breathing. “God made me like I am. I know that.”  

“Church policy doesn’t dead in what God made, I don’t think.”

********

Fareeha Amari looked over the office, empty now, save for two desks, one in each corner of the room, across from each other as they had been from the day they were hauled up the stairs. A sleek, metal desk of military manufacture, flawlessly painted in a firm grey, and an old, wooden desk, the varnish worn thin in places, a crack running down the side of it, drawer pulls mismatched. They had sat across from each other, like that, since the day she and Tracer had hauled both of them up the stairs, into that smelly, yellowing office above the chip shop. 

The one she was now leaving. 

She had put it off for far too long, she knew. She should have moved them shortly after the Siege of London, when people had begun to join them. It became silly a year after that, when her office was here and the rest of the offices were on the opposite end of the city. But she had not wanted to leave. The other office was so far, and Tracer could never have managed to show up even the little she did. 

After Tracer died, it would have seemed a betrayal. 

She never would have wanted this, Parvati had reminded her, taking her cousin’s office chair as her own, a box of tin airplanes on the seat, in fact, she told you so. More than once. 

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

“I would do anything, for your Mutti.” 

Avital would hear some version of this many times over her life. When she was older, it would strike her that there was no sense of drama in it, no grand gesture. It was simply a fact, like any other Pharah might say in passing. The sun rose in the east. The tide came in. She would do anything for Mercy.

**********

“I am the snake biting my own ankle. I am the pillar of salt. I am peering beyond my shoulder even as I walk forward through the thorns of my own mistakes, trapped in amber and timeless.”

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

Haruka sat on the couch, staring straight ahead. 

“I have a dad.” 

“I mean it seemed pretty statistically likely.” Mina crossed her arms and leaned against the couch. 

“MInako.” Michiru quietly twitched her eyebrow. 

“Sorry. But like, yeah.” Mina looked at Haruka. “You want me to go get him? He’ll probably get lost going back to the hotel.” 

“Yes. No.” she continued to stare. “I don’t know.” 

[kiwi-duckquack]

LOVED the new Sanders Sides video!!!

(Edit: if I spelt something wrong (a name or something) please tell me. Most, if any, typos are because I'm on mobile and it's 1:52 AM)

This post contains spoilers, proceed at your own cost.

So! Just finished watching the new Sanders Sides video (was watching Harry Potter but, *mario coin sound* that!), and I have to say I loved it!! The video game theme, the animation, the fact Logan knocked Patton into the blinds! Oh, beautiful episode, and I can't imagine how much time it took to be made! I hope the Sanders Sides team get some leisure time to themselves after this, and remember to take a break. Ey? Ey?? No? Sorry.

But, of course, there is quite the bit to unpact. I'll be giving a run down of my reaction, and some observations I made. Starting with:

The thumbnail

I made a post not too long ago, as a kind of joke, saying Thomas WAS the 'orange side' the Fanders had been theorizing and speculating about.

I was clearly wrong.

If you look at the character selection part, you can see there is a character slot with no picture. This is most likely the 'orange side', which then gives us, le rainbow.

Also the small detail that Patton, Roman, and Logan are on the top could show 2 things: that they were the original light sides, OR it makes Deciet being there more of a shock (as these three were already there)

The song & Word Crusher

Does much more need to be said? The song was a BOP. I need a way to add that to my 203 videos in my "fave songs" playlist on YT. Asides from that, I think it's a smart way to summarise what everyone was feeling, and what happened.

Word Crusher was also a quick, but less catchy, way to show that Thomas wasn't enjoying being at the wedding. That it was having the opposite effect; making him sad.

The hotdog man/Frogger game \ Train track \ saving the kingdom dilemma(s)

Ooooooohh boy. My heart just felt for Patton. He didn't know WHAT to do, but he had to know, right? Maybe a bit relatable, but PATTON IT'S OKAY SWEETIE YOU GOT THERE IN THE END. At the same time, Roman admitting he doesn't know what should motivate you was really fitting. Buuut at the same time, 'Logan' constantly challenging Patton was a bit "ehhh" until the frog part.

!!BIGGER SPOILERS AHEAD: I ADVISE YOU WATCH THE EPISODE/SERIES BEFORE READING ON!!

The Frog Part

OOOOHHHHH BOYYYYYYYYYYYY. Patton breaking down because he just doesn't know (y'all asked for angst, y'all got your angst) and emding up turning to Thomas, and ultimately back to himself because he is a part of Thomas, only to find HE doesn't know either! And we all thought PATTON was Deciet, but NOOOO, if was Logicality, it was Logan!! And then, Deciet proving he wasn't evil, that he can help Thomas! Being the one to make Patton realise he had to step down, and back away. That Thomas had to breathe.

And the aftermatch! Deciet being the one to directly say Thomas had to learn being selfish is okay sometimes. Trying to convince Roman he's not a bad person. But Roman, unwilling and maybe even scared to disregard the past! And Patton willing to listen!? HE EVEN HAD THAT DAD ENERGY TOWARDS DECIET!! Oh, amazing! Bravo! Speaking of which...

Deciets name reveal!!!!

Ok, you all knew something was coming when Deciet started removing the glove. And you ALL freaked out when he said "my name..". Don't lie. I did not expect Janus though. NOT COMPLAINING JANUS YOU BEAUTIFUL. but wow. That was a shocker.

BUT ROMAN IT IS GOOD YOU DON'T HAVE A MOUSTACHE, BEING WAY TOO MEAN THERE!!!! WAY! TOO! MEAN! WE SUPPORT THE SNAKE BOI! But does this mean that Remus made fun of Deciet/Janus for their name as well? Is that why it's a huge truce offering for him, whereas Remus said his name right off the bat? WAIT, IS THAT WHY VIRGIL DIDNT WANT TO SAY HIS NAME EITHER!?

Conclusion

Episode was amazing, and honestly what I needed to hear. I hope Deciet/Janus (eeee) gets accepted as a light side now. But it does raise one question:

Are Remus and Roman all that different?

[the-writer-ofthe-fandoms]

Symbiote (Lucifer Morningstar) (Chapter Four)

Pairing:  Lucifer Morningstar/Symbiote!Reader(GenderN) Words: 1.2k Warning(s): Swearing A/N: Chapter 4, here ya are! I hope you guys enjoy! Sorry this took a bit, the program i was using wasnt cooperating with me. Also i hope i got everyone for the taglist! If i didnt get you let me know so i can put you down for the next chapter

Symbiote Masterlist

"Hey Eddie, I need some help." ----

"What's the matter?" He asked. "You're not in troube are you?"

"About that..." You laugh nervously, and you go to sit in an awkard position on your couch.

"(Y/N)... What did you and Venom do?" You heard him groan on the other end. Eddie was there the day Venom took you as his host.

"It wasn't avoidable I swear. We were at a convenience store and a bunch of robbers with guns came in and there were innocent bystanders." You hear him groan again. "I'm only asking for a small favor, nothing big. Eddie please." It was silent on the line for a few moments.

Then you heard a sigh. "Alright, what's the favor?"

"Oh thank you, Eddie!"

"Yeah, yeah you owe me though. Now spill it."

"So here's the thing," You told him everything. You explained to him about the two men, who aren't human. You couldn't explain exactly what they were other than what Venom told you. They were not human. Eds seemed shocked there were more than just Symbiotes in our universe. You made sure to lay out all the information you knew about Lucifer and his brother for Eddie. "I want to know if you can do a check on the Lucifer guy and his brother; if you could dig deep into their history."

"I can do that for you two. But promise me you won't get yourself killed"

"You know I can't exactly promise that, but I'll try not to."

"Stay safe, (Y/N). And you protect them, Venom."

"Stay safe, Eds." And with that you hung up the phone. You sprawled your limbs wherever and let your eyes closed.

"I wouldn't let anything hurt you Nibble." Venom spoke with some gentleness to his voice.

"Yeah, I wouldn't let anything hurt you either Venom."

----

It was a few hours since you came home from Lux. You spent the time calling ads for a job, unboxing your belongings, and snacking on whatever food you had lying around. Everything in your apartment was coming together, the feeling of happiness and pride swelled in your chest.

You heard your phone ring, and buzz against your coffee table. Recognizing that specific ringtone to belong to Eddie.

You answered the phone and flopped down on your couch, "Sup Eds."

"H-Hey (Y/N). I looked into that Morningstar guy." He sighed into the phone, sounding weird. "It's... weird..."

"What's weird?"

"Well," he paused for a few moments, you could hear typing in the background on. "I can only find records of him dating back to 2011. It's almost like he didn't exist before that. There is nothing on him."

"That can't be possible can it?"

"Unless he somehow got his records deleted from existence through some shady shit, or really didn't exist until then, I don't know."

"Wow, well what did you manage to dig up on him?"

"Well when he appeared, he opened his night club and then joined up with the LAPD as a civilian consultant in 2016. There are people talking about how he exchanges favors, but other than that nothing else that sticks out. Nothing illegal to be seen."

"Wow..." You weren't sure what to say. Lucifer Morningstar did not exist on this Earth until 2011? It couldn't be possible...

"And his brother Amenadiel... If I spelt his name right, there is barely anything. There is a name connected to him though: Dr. Canaan, a therapist. He apparently put it as a "last name" when taking a therapist office. Other than that, nothing."

"Wow..." You were a bit taken back. None of the information truly made any sense. Different theories soomed through your head, some seeming more plausible than others. You can tell both Eddie and Venom were going through the same process. It was silent between the three of you.

"Maybe... Maybe they are something religious? I mean the name Lucifer is biblical and what not. Could the devil be real?"

"That's a possibility, though I was thinking maybe fake names, or cover names?"

"You and Venom may want to investigate him more... Ya'know stake him out and follow him around. See what else you can find."

"Thanks Eddie, it means a lot."

"No problem, (NickName). Talk to you soon." You hung up the phone, and a plan formulated in your head. You glanced at the time, 9:37 pm. You didn't think any employers would call you at this time so you raced to your closet and put on proper clothes for cold temperatures in the dark. Grabbing things you may need, like your cellphone, a pair of high powered binoculars, and a trusty notepad.

"Fun night?" Venom asked, excitement in his deep voice.

"We are following Ed's advice. We are going to do some research on Lucifer." You opened your window that was connected to the fire escape, and climbed to the top of your apartment building.

"It's a nice night, Nibble." Venom spoke. "A nice night for a snack."

"Maybe Venom, if you're good." You joked. "Time to get close to Lux."

In a blink of the eye Venoms black, goopy skin covered your own. Your field of vision grew since Venom was much taller than you. He let out a deep, low chuckle before he ran to the ledge, and took a large leap to the other building, landing with a loud "thump".

He continued like this for a few minutes, as reckless as ever. His strong grip on buildings caused damage, which you asked him to be mindful of, but when does Venom ever fully listen? Despite Venom being on the "outside", you could still feel the surprisingly pleasant, cool wind. If you weren't focused on figuring out Lucifer, maybe a night sky gazing would of been nice...

--- You were sitting on top of a roof that was fairly close to the Lux club; your hoodie over your head elbows resting on the ledge and binoculars in your hands. You waited to spot anything happening in viewable penthouse at the top of the building. So far it was empty, you didn't see any noticeable movement. It was pretty dull, but at least Venom kept you company with his questions and random chitchat.

You were in the midst of answering one of Venoms questions when you barely noticed something happening in the pent house. You brought the binoculars to your (E/C) eyes, adjusting them to get a clearer view. He was with a woman, and it wasn't Detective Decker. She had medium-dark skin, with dark hair, dark eyes, and a leather outfit. Is everyone Lucifer associates with drop dead gorgeous?

They were talking, although it seems the woman wasn't to pleased with the conversation. She had a scowl on her face and her arms crossed as Lucifer talked. Lucifer stopped talking, and started pouring himself a drink, while the woman seemed to be thinking. She spoke and nodded her briefly before leaving the penthouse.

"Could you tell if she is human or not?" You question, your eyes stuck on Lucifer. He was sitting at his own personal bar, sipping on whatever he poured himself.

"She wasn't. I can't smell her from here, but her eyes look dead to me." You quickly scribbled down what Venom said, then shoving the note pad back into your pocket. You returned the binoculars to your eyes. Your eyebrows furrowed when you didn't see the club owner anywhere to be seen. It was only a few moments of looking down, how could he-?

"You aren't supposed to be up here, are you?" A voice spoke behind you, a slight hint of sass and aggravation was evident.

"Shit!" "Shit!"

---

Tag list: @cassiopeia-barrow @fandomsstolemylife00 @child-of-awesome647 @fairtaldes@ishipmybed@lazysaint101 @thetrashwriter @geek-girl9902 @alexwinchester23 @justanotherfanpassingby@miraculousincorrectquotes @kaatsuko @not-your-average-url @no-ninya-here @brookeisa-fail@gaiatheroyalrabbit @singleandlonely @lazysaint101 @the-silentium @bladedscope @zakgba @hearts-creed

[royalshadowhunter]

Tagged by @bichaelmanes which is lovely cause I've never done one of these before and it seems fun

Rules: Answer 16 questions and tag 16 people you want to get to know better.

Nickname: Okay so the way my name is spelt and the way it's pronounced is very different. My name is pronounced like Nikita except it begins with a 'L'. Everyone calls me Key-ta though cause 3 syllables is just too much for them

Zodiac sign: Scorpio

Height: 5'7

Hogwarts house: 110% extra Hufflepuff. Like I have a Hufflepuff hat and hoodie and everything. It has and always will be my house

Last thing I googled: A full list of EGOT winners, cause my sister had never heard of EGOT before and didn't know who could win all four of those awards

Song stuck in my head: High hopes by Panic! At the disco. It's so goddamn catchy

Following: 176

Followers: 564 (which I don't deserve but I appreciate with all my heart)

Amount of sleep I get: Usually 8 cause I need sleep to function, but sometimes work deprives me of sleep

Lucky number(s): I don't really have any

Dream job: Primary school teacher. I'm working on it though, I'm doing evening classes right now to meet all the requirements for the admissions so hopefully I'll be a teacher in a few years

Wearing: I kid you not, a Harry Potter Christmas jumper

Favorite songs: I honestly can't pick just one cause there's so many but one of my favourites is Pompeii by Bastille

Instruments: Not a single one. I have no musical talent or ability whatsoever, I mean I will randomly break out into song but I'm tonedeaf af

Random fact: I was born on Halloween which means I'm a witch, I mean those are the rules

Aesthetic: Cosiness is my default setting and I love fairy lights, so Christmas is just my ideal time of year

Tagging the last 16 people in my messages/notifications/dashboard/followers: @daffietjuh @fadingdysphoriac @malexhq @alexxmichael @mars-is-the-new-world @alexmanesairstream @audreyblanche @cries-in-malex @jumbled-nonsense @acomebackstory @codebreaker-manes @befitandchase @youaremyworldlois @realbisexualalienblast @cosmiceverafter @queersirius

[earwaxinggibbous]

Eminem - Worst to Best

So I was watching theneedledrop and thinking I could do this too. That’s all the prefacing you’re gonna get.

I know it’s hard to believe I can judge Eminem from an objective standpoint considering I’m such a big fan that I ranked Kamikaze as my favorite hit song of 2018 (my actual favorite song was probably When You Die by MGMT or Stop Smoking by Car Seat Headrest for the record) but I am able, physically, to have negative opinions even about the rap god himself.

My only rule is that this only includes his full-length studio albums. Infinite won’t be here due to my lack of knowledge regarding it, but everything else is fair game. This will be heavily opinion-based.

Let’s go and start from the worst!

9. Revival (2017)

Initially I was gonna put Encore below this one. After all, in my opinion, there’s nothing egregiously awful about Revival in my mind. It just sort of existed to me, like that dead roach that stayed in my high school’s gym for over a month before disappearing without a word about it. 

It wasn’t until I gave a few of the tracks a re-listen that I realized Revival has nothing going for it. This is Em’s sellout album, the one where he collabs with Beyonce, Ed Sheeran and goddamn X Ambassadors in the vague hopes that it’d get him a hit. Songs that don’t bother having clever writing because all they need to do is slap a semi-important pop singer on the hook.

It’s easily Em’s most ballsless album. In a universe where Kill You and Same Song & Dance exist, there is no need for Framed, Em’s almost saddening attempt to return to his Slim Shady roots even though, let’s be honest, the years of Shady are long behind us.

I’m not saying I need Em yelling slurs and talking about murder every five seconds, I just want him to be, for lack of a better word, the most authentic version of himself he can be. And this really isn’t it to me. No amount of politics or wordplay can hide that this is a sham of what an Eminem album should sound like. I don’t need diss tracks, or songs about serial killing, I just want him to say what he wants and not hold back.

Everything about the album is weak and tired. Every song melds into one another, without thought or purpose, only broken up by the celebrity hooks that define them. It’s the blackest mark on Em’s discography, and easily his worst album to date. Not even worth sneezing at.

8. Encore (2004)

I guess we shouldn’t let Em do whatever he wants...

Encore has the opposite problem that Revival does, and it’s a problem I empathize with. Encore is essentially word vomit in album form. It’s the musical equivalent of Jack Kerouac’s spontaneous prose, loud and incoherent and kind of gross. It’s what happens when ambition goes unchecked, and Em just leans a little too far into what the media says about him.

This was also deep in the throes of Em’s drug abuse problem, and it shows. This album feels like a bad drug trip, sludgy and gross and heavy, in a way that makes it hard to move your arms and legs. With these absolutely god-awful sung choruses on songs like My First Single, Eminem dares you to make less sense than him as he rambles like a crazy person through song after song, only taking breaks from his half-attempts at comedy on tracks like Mosh, Like Toy Soldiers and Mockingbird, which try to be serious. But it’s hard to be serious when you’re essentially getting choked in a soup of valium and regret.

I don’t hate Encore like I do Revival, because in some ways I can understand where it comes from. It’s trying to do the same sort of thing its predecessors did, with silly songs and serious ones. But the funny songs are so weird and frankly gross that it quashes any attempt of seriousness. It’s like Eminem thought the only way to make his songs better were to take what his detractors hated about him and turn it up to 11. Songs like My First Single are complete nonsense complete with gut-churning sound effects and a shitty beat, whereas Just Lose It, a song I’m ashamed to admit I enjoy, fills itself with baseless offensiveness and weird reference humor to function. And that was the big hit single off of this album.

Really I think Just Lose It was the best way to sell this album. What says Encore more than a song insisting that Eminem diddles little boys? FACK would’ve been in place on this album, which is not a compliment.

7. Recovery (2010)

Recovery shares a lot of problems with Revival, a lot of radio-bait songs featuring pop artists that have no business being within ten feet of Eminem. But I’ll admit its singles were far superior to that of Revival. No Love was far superior to anything Revival spat out.

I just kinda don’t care about this album. Other than how Love The Way You Lie was permanently ingrained in the cultural consciousness around 2010, I have very few thoughts about it. I remember hearing most of the singles when I was in elementary school, and they were all just kinda fine. Space Bound was okay (other than that coked up line about love being ‘evil’ spelt backwards) and Not Afraid was sincerely underwhelming considering what it was going for.

It’d been diminishing returns for Em for years, so I’m not shocked he needed some time to get back on his feet. But there’s just not much to say about Recovery. I feel like Em was a lot prouder of it than anyone else.

6. Kamikaze (2018)

At some level, I feel like Kamikaze set itself up to fail. And it did pretty well in spite of that.

The album’s main selling point was that it was dissing everyone. Shady’s gonna name names, I remember hearing, as this album dropped right the fuck out of nowhere in the late summer of 2018. Diss track drama has never really been for me, since oftentimes it pits artists I like against one another over petty bullshit. And hearing that Em slammed people simply for disliking Revival only made me more nervous about what Kamikaze’s outcome would look like.

I’m glad to say it was not nearly as bad as I was expecting.

I’m sort of on the fence about this album. While I think it is punchy, and pretty fun lyrics-wise, it definitely doesn’t hold a candle to any of his older stuff. It doesn’t even really hold up against MMLP2. It’s less that I enjoy this album, and more that I enjoy the possibility of Eminem managing to pick himself up after Revival and move into the new age while still being himself.

Easily the worst moment on this album is Eminem calling Tyler the Creator the f-slur and even implying he’s pretending to be gay, which he has since apologized for. However, the scariest thing to me that the line represents is the possibility that Eminem’s personality is too anachronistic. That in an era of young-adult trap rappers with very experimental homemade beats, there’s no longer room for a famous, albeit angry man in his 40′s being backed by a studio. It’s the years of Soundcloud, where anyone can be a rapper, and someone as old and frankly polarizing as Eminem may never truly have the limelight again.

Em’s style has simply fallen behind the times and he will never be content with updating himself, because that isn’t who he is. And while I love that about him, I think it might speak disaster for his career.

I like the songs though.

5. The Marshall Mathers LP 2 (2013)

Now we’re getting into the good shit. The Marshall Mathers LP 2 starts off with a bang, the first song being Bad Guy, a direct sequel to Stan and an incredibly powerful sequel at that. Eminem asks questions about his fame, his identity, and most notably, he fucking gets murdered at the beginning of this album.

MMLP2 strips off all but one skit. No Paul Rosenberg cameo on this one. This was him getting serious after the relative failure of Encore and Relapse. This was, frankly, what Recovery should’ve sound like. With Berzerk being a fun sort of party hit, Rap God is what really got him back on the map. The song asserts his lyrical dominance. It is a brag track, and it earns that right.

Despite it being of incredibly high quality, this is nowhere near Em’s best work, which speaks highly for his track record. The fact that something this well-made is comparatively mediocre when put next to the top four is incredible to me. This album is more of a revival than Revival was. It’s Eminem reaching out of the dirt after being buried and yelling “Hey, I’m not dead yet!” It’s the hearbeat running through a comatose body as they return to consciousness.

But when it comes down to it, I love what this album represents to me more than its content. Aside from Berzerk, Bad Guy and Rap God, none of the songs really stand out either way. It’s all good, of course, but none of it can match up to his older work. Regardless, this album means a lot to me on a spiritual level. Whenever I listen to this I feel like a proud parent, and Em is my son who just completely crushed his elementary school talent show.

It’s a good feeling.

4. Relapse (2009)

At this point it was sort of like picking my favorite child. My number one is obvious, but deciding how to order these three was trouble.

People will probably argue with me saying that Relapse is one of Em’s best, but fuck that. This album is severely underrated among the fanbase, and is an incredibly powerful listen. This album is an auditory representation of rock bottom, in the best way possible.

This is one of the only albums to really define a split between Marshall and Slim Shady, with Slim being a deep-voiced demon and Marshall being a fucked-up middle-aged man who just came staggering out of a rehab center. The way the characters play off of one another is beautiful, Slim trying to manipulate Marshall into his ways and wiles. This also easily has the most horrorcore-type sound and content out of any Eminem album, with Slim occasionally playing the role of a serial killer, such as on 3 am or one of the standout tracks, Same Song & Dance. Insane tells a story possibly regarding Slim’s father, or maybe representative of something else entirely.

One of my few issues with this album, aside from We Made You of all things being one of the singles, is that one of the best tracks is only on the deluxe edition. My Darling ties off the Slim and Marshall story in a nice little bow, plus Careful What You Wish For sweeping up all the themes and putting them in one place.

This album is beautiful, it’s cinematic in a way. It’s deep and powerful and incredibly, incredibly scary, with Em at his lowest point in his life and career. Sadly, it was not well-received critically, which I think is a shame. Clearly they weren’t seeing what I see.

3. The Eminem Show (2002)

Screw Revival, this is easily Em’s most politically powerful album yet. I listened to this whole thing on a boombox I got at Best Buy for 20 dollars and I felt like I had fucking transcended.

This album pulls out all the stops, immediately starting out on White America, a song so goddamn strong that every time little me heard it on the radio I immediately got down and lost my shit. I didn’t even understand what it was about, all I knew was that it was big and important. And it is.

While his first two big albums tried to be weird and threatening, The Eminem Show just wanted to be big, and talk about big things. Eminem fearlessly tears into heavily-charged concepts in White America, Say Goodbye Hollywood and Square Dance. Then on the flipside he aims the gun at himself on tracks like My Dad’s Gone Crazy, Cleanin’ Out My Closet and even Hailie’s Song. It’s a gut-punch of an album, this is where Eminem is truly fearless.

I’ll also say I feel this album is a little bit more accessible, weirdly enough, than Em’s earlier stuff. It’s much less crude and aggressive, but still carries his trademark style. It’s got the skits, he yells a lot still, but the topics are easier to swallow than his earlier albums. I’d say it’s a good entry-level Eminem album if you’re threatened by rape jokes and Em yelling the f-slur constantly. And unlike what Teens of Denial was for Car Seat Headrest, I feel like The Eminem Show manages to be that entry-level album without completely castrating Eminem’s lyrical content.

But even longtime fans can gain enjoyment from this album and how loud and proud it is, how fearless Eminem really is on this album. This one, more than anything, is the unfiltered Marshall Mathers experience. No filters, no jokes, just him and his daughter and Dr. Dre.

But easily the best part of this album is the DVD extras thing where you get a free episode of the Slim Shady Show. Fuck yeah.

2. The Slim Shady LP (1999)

The Slim Shady LP was Eminem’s first really successful work. It was also the first thing he ever put on a CD. Yeah, Infinite was on cassette only. And this album is fucking great. It’s a perfect debut for Eminem. It’s got his first big hit, My Name Is, and a myriad of other great tracks. It’s just good late 90′s rap, with fun beats and interesting lyrics. As much as I love SSLP, I don’t really like talking about it because... yeah, it’s good, I’m just never sure what else to say.

And that might make it sound like I like it less than The Eminem Show, but no, that’s not it. As much as I think political Em is great, I’ll forever prefer nasty rat boy Em any day. This is the Em that inspires me the most, the grody, crude one that reminds me of myself. Best tracks include 97 Bonnie and Clyde, Bad Meets Evil and of course My Name Is. This is also the only album where Ken Kaniff is played by Aristotle. There’s your fun fact for the day.

1. The Marshall Mathers LP (2000)

FUCK everyone else, I respect YOU!

The Marshall Mathers LP is a defining rap album. It’s lyrical perfection, the hooks are god-tier, and it is without contest the best Eminem album of all time. I doubt he’ll ever top this, and if he does it’ll probably break space-time. 

MMLP ticks all the boxes an Eminem album usually should. It’s quirky, it’s comedic, it’s dark, it’s angry, it’s violent, it’s everything I could want and more. But beyond that, it’s the thing that really proved what Eminem can do. He can tell stories, he can do lyrics, he can flow, he has good beats, he can murder his ex-girlfriend, he can get his own songs censored on the uncensored version of his album, he can do it all.

The songs on this just put me in a good mood. Even though they’re horrible, and I don’t mean they’re bad songs. The content is absolutely fucked, this album is not for the faint of heart. But it makes me feel represented, not for being gay, trans, mentally ill or short, but for being a fucked-up weirdo who lived a fucked-up life and just wants to scream and lose his shit. More than anything, this feels like an album that’s there for me, for better or for worse.

The standouts on this album in my opinion are the two “named” tracks, Kim and Stan. These tracks are incredibly disturbing, but they both mean a lot to me and are incredibly written and acted. The Real Slim Shady is still an amazing single with an awesome, hopping beat. I’m Back is incredibly solid, Criminal is cleverly contradictory, every track on this album is great without any misses. If there were enough words in the English language to describe how much I love this album, I’d probably use all of them.

This album couldn’t exist today. If this came out today, it’d probably be thrown to the wayside for a myriad of reasons. It’s too late 90′s, it’s too dark, it’s “problematic”, we have like 500 white rappers now, but for the record: Anyone who writes this kind of music today owes it to Eminem, ESPECIALLY all of the white rappers who insist they’re better than him. (Looking at you, MGK.) Even if he’s not doing that great now, even if you don’t like him, it’d be foolish to not acknowledge what MMLP did for rap. And not only was it influential, but it still holds up to this very day.

So there you have it. All of Eminem’s full albums (besides Infinite oopsies) listed from worst to best. Have any differing opinions? Leave a reply. Just be polite, you filthy animal.

[artificialqueens]

cirque d'amour - chapter eleven (trixya) - cal

i’m sorry, i posted this to ao3 ages ago and again, forgot to submit here…I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY, if you haven’t already read it! the next chapter is coming very soon…

HUGE HUGE HUGE TRIGGER WARNING: abuse, mental illness, mentions of attempting suicide *IF YOU WANT TO SKIP OUT TRIXIE’S FLASHBACK FROM HER PAST, IT IS ALL IN ITALICS* okay, whooOoO. this one’s a journey, you guys. starts out adorable & ends up pretty heavy.

part one of trixie being the ross we deserved back in the last season of friends.

sorry it took a while ~ i hope you enjoy, i know this one’s a wild ride <3

Trixie leaned to whisper delicately into Katya’s ear beside her. “Did she really win drag race?”

Katya’s perfect mouth formed an ‘o’ of surprise, and she clasped a hand over her lips to conceal it. “Trixie!”

Trixie grinned sheepishly, her eyes trained on Alaska as she performed a questionable rendition of Oasis’ “Wonderwall”. The party were collected by the stage in a cluster of excitement, encouraging the strange Alaska with intoxicated wails of approval. Trixie and Katya, the only two of the group who were stone-cold sober, were wincing every time the incredibly drunken Alaksa attempted to hit a high note.

Trixie, despite her recent plight, felt lighter than she had in the longest time. Her admission to Katya took huge courage and she could still feel the shivers across her spine she had felt when she had finally said it. Their relationship may well be impossible to pursue, Trixie knew, but she was enjoying being with Katya this night all the same; with no secrets and no tension between them, just pure, true feeling.

Latrice, his bar-tending abandoned after he had consumed one too many mojitos, clocked Trixie’s presence in the little crowd. “Tracyyy! Go and help 'Lasky, we have a - hic - guitar backstage!”

Trixie grimaced - her guitar playing could improve the situation, seeing as Alaksa was wailing with no backing track - but she was still fearful of playing in front of a crowd, even one as small as this.

“Go on, Trix,” Katya hissed through clenched teeth. “You can only make this better. Besides, everyone’s a mess.”

“You’re not.”

Katya grinned knowingly, and Trixie felt her stomach somersault. “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Trix—eee,” Latrice slurred, approaching her with a huge pout. “Pleaseeee.”

Trixie huffed a tiny breath of fear, her eyes training on the spotlights that flooded the stage. You can do this, bitch. It’s nothing. It’s only for fun.

She gave Latrice a wobbly smile. “Okay, okay. Where is this guitar?”

Trixie was stood side-stage a moment later, an ageing Fender gripped in her clammy hands. She watched as Alaska garbled over the words of the ageless song, and she winced with the blatant massacre of it.

Trixie inhaled sharply and held the breath in her chest for a moment, before stepping onto the glaring light of the stage.

The gabble of drunken people screamed, but Trixie could hear only Katya among them; the loudest, the most feeling. Trixie felt warmth flood her body at the sound.

Trixie smiled awkwardly, feeling eternally grateful for the glare of the lights that mostly distorted every face that was now watching her. She fiddled with the microphone stand that Alaksa had abandoned, cradling her own mic into the top of it.

Alaska had paused in her din, grinning broadly at Trixie as she joined her on stage.

“So, anyway,” Trixie muttered into the mic, startling herself with the sound of her amplified voice. “Here’s Wonderwall.”

Trixie couldn’t help but cast a glance at Katya then; Katya, who was doubled over and wheezing with laughter. Trixie felt braver every time she looked at her.

Trixie began strumming the simple chords, her confidence rising with every strum of her fingers and every slide of the fret. She felt the familiar joy she had felt back in Chicago, when she had played for the Cirque in their tiny apartment. The little crowd had silenced themselves when she had started to play and, much to Trixie’s surprise, so had Alaska.

Every pair of eyes were trained on her, but the only eyes Trixie truly cared about were Katya’s – and she could see them now, through the glare of the lights, staring up at her with unmistakable admiration. Trixie felt her heart soar, and her confidence bloom; the song was overplayed and cliche, she knew, but she poured her soul into the words and the chords regardless of that fact.

“Maybe,” she sang, her eyes closing for a moment as she let the atmosphere of the club wash over her. “You’re gonna be the one that saves me.”

When her hazy eyes opened a crack, she saw that the room was dimly lit now with various lighters and torches from phones – a tiny sea of lights at her feet. Trixie smiled; she felt delighted, in awe. She felt at home.

After what simultaneously felt like forever and a heartbeat all at once, Trixie ended the song to tremendous applause from the little crowd below her. She took a bow, the redness in her cheeks growing as the reality of what she had just done dawned upon her.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed, blushing furiously as everyone continued to cheer for her.

She stole a glance towards Katya; Katya, who was jumping up and down like a crazed wild woman, clapping and wailing louder than anyone else.

Trixie jogged down the steps by the stage, exhilaration stealing her breath as she grasped Katya’s arm.

“Hey, Katya?”

“You were so good, mama, like wow, I’m—“

“Katya!”

“Oh…sorry…yes?”

“I’ll do it,” Trixie’s eyes were sparkling.

Katya tilted her head, confusion pinching her face. “Do what?”

“Perform,” Trixie gasped, excitement gushing through her veins. “At your closing show.”

Katya’s eyes widened. “Oh, bitch!”

*

The next day Trixie spent hauled up in her room.

It was how she had spent the majority of the week, but today, it wasn’t because she was riddled with guilt and haunted by the demon of depression; it was because she needed to focus.

She had decided to write her own song for the finale of the Cirque – a risky choice, she knew, but somehow it felt right.

She was nestled in a bright pink bathrobe, a handful of moleskin notebooks piled messily in front of her. She had always wrote music- it had gotten her through the darkest times of her life – but she felt she needed to write something new for such a special occasion.

She chewed the end of her pen thoughtfully as she gazed down at the chaotic scribbles on various open pages, trying desperately to make them all fit.

The door of her bedroom opened without a knock, as it so often did – and Trixie instinctively rolled her eyes.

“Hey, it’s a good job I’m celibate,” she huffed, not looking up. “Or you’d be catching me in the nude with all this blatant invading of my privacy.”

Courtney, forever looking insufferably perfect, glided across the room towards Trixie.

“From the sounds of things,” she scoffed, seating herself on the edge of Trixie’s bed with no invitation to do so. “Your celibacy won’t be for long.”

Trixie’s glare was instant – her song-writing forgotten for the moment.

“What’re you talking about, sis?”

Courtney raised her sculpted brow, a no-nonsense look on her face. “Bitch, anyone within a 20 mile radius can see you and Katya fucking each other with your eyes.”

“Ex-cuse me?” Trixie gasped, a laugh escaping her with a strange mixture of embarrassment and surprise.

“We been done knew,” Courtney wiggled her shoulders, smiling triumphantly at Trixie’s blatant embarrassment.

Trixie heaved a sigh; clearly lying to Courtney was a pointless fete. “Okay, okay, yes. I like her. I like her a lot. Can you drop it now?”

“Nope.”

“Courtney!”

“Listen,” Courtney said, and something about the sudden hint of seriousness in her tone took Trixie aback. She gazed at Courtney, noting the drop of her lips and the furrowing of her brow.

“Listening,” Trixie whispered.

“Katya is my friend,” Courtney said simply, crossing her arms over her breasts. “Please, please don’t hurt her. She’s very…delicate.”

“I have no intention of hurting her,” Trixie mumbled, feeling a spark of irritation. “I’m not even trying to get anything from her. We agreed - we’re friends.”

Courtney’s face betrayed her disbelief, which only irritated Trixie further. “No offence, but since when did it become your business?”

Courtney’s eyes widened with surprise, and Trixie regretted her heated words in an instant as she rose from the bed. “Court, I -”

“Forget it,” Courtney said bluntly, waving a hand dismissively. “You’re right, it’s nothing to do with me.”

Courtney exited the room without a glance in Trixie’s direction and not for the first time this chaotic week, Trixie felt like a garbage human person.

*

Katya I can’t believe the final show is tomorrow, tracy! are you excited for your debut?!

Trixie was in line at Starbucks, trying desperately to juggle her heavy laptop, her phone, and a handful of change all at once.

“Um -” she muttered the moment the server asked what she would like; her turbulent brain forgetting the order she made every single time she visited the place.

“Ah - oh!” Trixie had a eureka moment as the disorganised cogs in the mind begin to turn once more. “A hazelnut soy latte, please. Sorry.”

Trixie collected her coffee at the end of the line, trying desperately to hide her burning cheeks from the prying eyes of the other people there. She slid into an empty seat in the corner of the room, opening her laptop with a grunt of dissatisfaction as she realised that the name on her cup spelt 'Trinksy’.

“Trinksy?” Trixie muttered, her eyebrows raised. “Really?”

Trixie no

Trixie flipped through her moleskin notebook, trying to locate her messy scribbles and idle-minded doodles. She decided, after days of chewing anxious dints into multitudes of pens, that she would leave the prison of her bedroom and combine her notes into some form of chord progression and lyrics that made sense - the day before she needed them. Trixie Mattel was organised.

Katya oh mama, you’ll be fine. you’ll be amazing!! i’m so excited, jsefjsfklkajbs

Trixie wasn’t hugely satisfied with her song-writing - she oftentimes was critical of her own work, that much was true, but she didn’t feel safe enough mentally to allow her emotions to write her songs. With everything that had happened recently, she’d had to place her feelings in an iron vice and keep them clamped there safely before they spilled out into everything she did.

Trixie typed away, her nails clicking against the keyboard, as she sipped absentmindedly at her lukewarm coffee.

In the midst of her vain attempts to focus, a single thought kept pronouncing itself at the forefront of Trixie’s mind; her exchange with Courtney a few days ago. They had seen each other a few times, usually crossing paths in the mornings where Trixie glared at her laptop in desperate search for a job, and Courtney silently pouring herself a coffee into her giant flask. She missed their silly banter; Courtney had become a very valuable friend to Trixie, and she decided that she had to overcome her fear of confrontation and address the problem that they had.

Trixie huffed a breath, pulling out her phone and typing a rapid text to her.

Trixie Hey…I’m at starbucks. Do you wanna come drink overpriced coffee and shamelessly people-watch with me?

She then, after giving herself a mental pat on the back for doing something so grown-up and so not Trixie, typed an orderly sequence for her Cirque song whilst humming it against the rim of her cup.

Once Trixie had finished, she skimmed the song with a critical eye. The end result she found she was pleased with, and she smacked her lips with satisfaction as the closed her laptop down.

She glanced at her phone – no response from Courtney.

Trixie sighed. She hated that Courtney was upset with her and she was irritated with herself for allowing her tone to turn the way it had done when they had last spoke; though Trixie was certain that was more to it than that.

She was about to pack up and vacate her table when the front door of the cafe opened to reveal the unmistakable silhouette of Miss Courtney Act.

She glanced about herself, clearly trying to locate Trixie. Trixie raised her hand and wiggled her fingers to get her attention, and smiled when Courtney noticed.

She flounced over to Trixie’s table, her work bag slung over her shoulder. She dropped herself into the vacant seat opposite Trixie with a dramatic sigh.

“God, what a fucking day,” she grumbled, gracefully running a manicured hand through her curls. Trixie stifled a chuckle; she had missed her.

“Bad day at the office?”

“The worst,” Courtney rolled her eyes. “So I was down for this.”

“You didn’t reply to my text, bitch.”

“I’m here, aren’t I?” Courtney tossed her hair over her shoulder and gave Trixie a glare.

“You’re here,” Trixie agreed with the beginnings of a smile. She hesitated for a moment, before steeling herself to speak again. “I’m sorry, you know…about the other day.”

Courtney’s eyebrow was raised in mock-surprise. “Is Trixie Mattel apologising?”

“You’re a dick,” Trixie mumbled, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Did she really come across as someone who isn’t sorry when she’d done wrong?

Courtney chuckled. “I’m kidding. And hey, it’s cool. I guess I overstepped the line. I just really love Katya. You know?”

Trixie’s phone lit up at that moment from where it lay on the table – a string of new notifications were rapidly multiplying at Katya texted her chaotic thought stream. Trixie couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah. I know.”

*

Trixie and Courtney parted ways after their coffees – Courtney was spending the night at Milk’s little flat, which she often did, painfully aware that soon she would not be seeing him for a number of weeks. Trixie was afraid to think about the impending tour, so she refused to allow herself to. She knew with a frightening certainty that she would miss Katya with an ache that ran deep.

Trixie decided to wander the streets of L.A to clear her mind after the exhausting task of song writing. It was fast approaching dusk, and the sky was bleeding brilliant orange against the pastel blue. She was paying little attention to the treads of her feet, staring instead at the beauty of the sunset against the skyline, her mind pleasantly blank and her mood high.

She stumbled quite suddenly into a small girl who was waiting at a crossing, her fingers interlaced with someone who Trixie assumed was her father. “Oh, I’m s—“

Trixie was cut off by the gruffness of the man’s voice. “Izzy!”

Trixie’s heart began to hammer in an instant. The voice was eerily familiar. Her wide, fearful eyes darted to the man’s face – no, it’s not him. It���s not him.

“I’m sorry about that,” the man mumbled with a kindly gaze.

“Oh, uh, it’s —“ Trixie stammered, her hands visibly shaking by her sides. No, it’s not him. Stop it. Calm down. Everything’s fine.

“Are you okay?” the man seemed concerned.

“Kiss his cheek, Beatrice.”

Trixie’s tiny eyes were suddenly huge; she giggled nervously, fiddling with the trim of her t-shirt. “N-no.”

The man beside her became a towering darkness - her step-father wasn’t tall by any stretch of the imagination, but to the tiny 9-year-old Trixie, he was impossibly huge. She winced, noting the rigidity of his limbs and sensed what may be coming.

“You ungrateful brat,” he spat, his eyes growing wild. “Mark very kindly let you stay in his house for the weekend, and you won’t even say thank you?”

His words became a growl, and her step-father crouched to his knees so that Trixie couldn’t avoid the fire in his eyes. Mark shuffled uncomfortably, unsure of how to handle the situation.

“Oh, um,” he stuttered, running a hand through his hair. “It’s okay, it’s really not necessary…”

Trixie felt intense pain as her step-father tore at her hair, her scalp burning and her eyes clamping shut. A huge, fearful sob escaped her lips as he released her, a clump of her perfect blonde curls gripped in his closed fist.

“Next time I tell you to do something,” he sneered darkly. “You better do it.”

Trixie’s tongue was a lump in her mouth. Her anxiety was fast mounting towards panic, and much as she mentally begged herself to calm down, her body was responding quicker than she could think.

She jolted into a run, stumbling against the pavement in her haste to get away. Her breath came in ragged gasps, the streets blurring into grey nothingness as tears crowded her eyes. Adrenaline was gushing through her veins and every rapid thud of her heart pushed her to move, to run, to hide, to disappear.

Trixie ran for a long time. Just how long, she would never know. Once her muscles started to protest against every stride and sweat was pouring from her temples, she was forced to stop.

She lent against a park bench, panting rapidly. Her heart was in her mouth and her eyes kept darting about herself, as though she was a startled rabbit being hunted by an unknown predator. The people enjoying their sunset stroll in the park were casting curious glances in her direction, but Trixie was none-the-wiser.

For the first time in her mad flight, Trixie’s logic broke through the chaos in her mind. Call Willam. Call Willam. Call Willam.

With shaking hands, she fumbled with her phone to locate her list of contacts. She pressed clumsily against Willam’s name, almost dialling the wrong person.

The phone rang once. Twice, three times, four.

Trixie almost sobbed out loud. What if she doesn’t answer? What if she —

“Trixie?”

She answered.

Trixie began to cry, heaving and huge sobs. Her voice was obstructed by her own fear, her misery, and her flutter of relief that Willam had answered, but she couldn’t verbalise any of this. All she could do was cry.

“Trixie,” Willam’s voice was thick with concern. “Trixie, where are you?”

Trixie tried desperately to form the words she needed, but all she could do was stammer.

“Trixie. I need to know where you are so I can help you. Please, try to breathe. Remember, like we used to do together?”

Trixie nodded against the phone, even though she knew Willam could not see her. Her cheeks were slick with her tears.

“Breathe in now. And count to 5.”

Willam’s voice was soothing as Trixie closed her eyes and drew in a broken breath. She tried to count, but her mind was still a hive of fear, and she couldn’t concentrate.

“It’s okay.” Willam said softly. “It’s okay, try again. Start again. You got this.”

Trixie did as she was told. She drew in a shuddering breath, and found that this time, she was able to count. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.

“Good job Trix - and out.”

The pair of them did this for 11 more minutes – Willam, encouraging, soothing, instructing, and Trixie, just breathing.

Eventually, Trixie found that she could speak. “Willam.”

“Yes?”

“I freaked.”

“I know.”

“I thought I saw him.”

There was dead air from Willam’s line for what felt like a lifetime. “Was it?”

“No,” Trixie admitted, goose bumps dimpling across her arms. “I knew, I knew it wasn’t. And I still couldn’t—“

A car pulled up at the side of the street, and Trixie’s neck snapped up in an instant.

“Willam, how—”

“I have my ways,” Willam’s voice responded, as Trixie watched a somewhat dishevelled Katya warily approaching her from the abandoned car.

Trixie’s jaw was gaping. “W-Willam. Thank you.”

“Anytime. I told you that, didn’t I? Now…tell her, Trix.”

An empty dialling tone hummed against Trixie’s ear, and she gazed up at the confused and concerned Katya.

“What do you need?”

Trixie’s breath was a shudder. “Take me home.”

Katya extended her hand, and Trixie lay her own against it without a moment’s hesitation. “Okay.”

*

Trixie didn’t speak again for a while.

Katya drove the pair to Trixie’s flat in a car Trixie had never seen before; nor did she care to ask.

Katya followed her into the flat once they had arrived with an air of hesitancy, as though she didn’t know what she ought to do, or how to behave.

Trixie merely shuddered in the hallway, apparently unable to make a coherent decision about where she should go or what she should do. She suddenly felt the soft caress of Katya’s strong hands against her shaking shoulders, somewhere behind her.

“Shall we get you into bed, Trixie?”

Her voice was so gentle and so familiar that Trixie felt herself relax ever so slightly. She nodded, allowing Katya to manoeuvre her across the expense of the apartment maze, until they found themselves in Trixie’s bedroom.

Katya parked Trixie on the bed and quickly enveloped her in the pink bathrobe she had abandoned on her bed earlier that day. Trixie’s shivering started to abate as the shock gripping her body began to ebb away.

She became suddenly aware that no doubt her eyes would be black circles and that Katya - Katya - was crouched by her knees, gazing at her with a mixture of maddening emotions.

“I-uh,” Trixie stammered, reality dawning fast. “Wow. How did — okay.”

“You okay?”

“I —” Willam’s words reverberated in the chaos of Trixie’s wound up mind: Tell her.

Heaving a defeated sigh, Trixie lay and rolled across the expanse of her bed. “Katya - lie with me. Can you — hold me?”

Trixie, facing the wall, felt the dip of the bed as Katya clambered onto it. She felt a snaking arm around her side and the comforting warmth of Katya’s body pressing against her back. Katya’s face became entangled in her wild hair - and she whispered; “I’m here.”

That was all it took - Trixie descended into sobs once more, her body shaking with every heave of breath. Her chest ached and her muscles stung from her merciless run. Katya tightened her grip ever so slightly as Trixie cried. “It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe.”

Trixie felt overwhelmed - it was almost as though she was a young girl again, completely defenceless and immobile, unable to protect herself. She knew she was safe with Katya - but she was lost in a past that only she could see.

“I — I need to tell you,” Trixie stammered, sniffling, trying to grasp at the present and ground herself where she was. “About something.”

Katya said nothing; merely squeezed her again.

Trixie wiped harshly at the tears collecting beneath her eyes. “I - I was abused. As a child.”

Trixie felt Katya’s body tense against her, but she said nothing.

“And, uh,” Trixie’s words were like tar in her throat - dark, burning, drowning. “Two years ago I - I was once hospitalised for trying to —”

Trixie took in a sharp breath.

“For trying to end it.”

Trixie felt Katya’s cheek press against her bare shoulder quite suddenly.

“And, uh. I had therapy. I’ve like - worked through the abuse. I’m like — okay. But sometimes - sometimes I have some pretty vivid flashbacks, and um. I saw someone today who I thought was — him. My step-father.”

Trixie felt a tiny surge of growing courage with every word she spoke. “And Willam - Willam knows. Willam has seen me at my worst, and Willam wanted me to tell — someone. To tell you. So that someone else knows. She’s always afraid of seeing me like that again. It messed her up — you know?”

Trixie felt Katya shudder against her, and she immediately turned to face her. Silent tears were rolling down Katya’s reddening cheeks as her shoulders shook.

“Fuck,” Katya gasped, vainly attempting to conceal her face. “I’m sorry.”

“Katya,” Trixie said softly, grasping Katya’s tiny wrists in her hands. “You’re crying?”

“I just —” Katya sniffled, her bottom lip wobbling. “I hate that someone did that to you. I hate that you felt that bad. I hate it, Trixie.”

Katya descended into sobs then, wrapping her arms around Trixie’s larger frame and pulling her close. Trixie’s face was pressed against the soft fabric of Katya’s loose t-shirt, feeling comforted by the sensation of it against her cheek and the ever-familiar intoxicating scent that was Katya: the intriguing mix of vanilla, incense, and the smell of outside.

“I won’t let anyone hurt you again,” Katya mumbled against the crown of Trixie’s head. “And I want you to tell me, if you ever feel bad again.”

Trixie nodded in response.

“And I think you should tell Court, too. 'Cause…someone needs to know, while I’m —”

“While you’re gone.”

The silence that enveloped them then was almost deafening. Katya heaved a sigh that caused Trixie’s head to rise and fall with her breath. This was the first time they had broached the subject of Katya’s impending absence.

“I don’t want to leave you. Maybe I — maybe I should stay.”

Trixie pushed herself away from Katya for a moment; so that she could meet her eyes with the fiercest glare. Katya’s cheeks were still red from her crying, her make up smudged messily across the space below her eyes. Trixie still thought that she looked beautiful.

“Listen,” Trixie said, her hand gripping Katya’s. “You are going on this tour. It’s all you’ve talked about for weeks and I would never stand in the way of your dreams. I won’t talk to you ever again if you don’t go.”

Katya’s crimson lips parted in a wobbly smile. “Okay. But — will you be okay?”

“I’m always okay,” Trixie assured her, feeling stronger than she could remember feeling; lying here with Katya, knowing that despite that she would always have some degree of adversity to overcome when it came to her past and her mental health; she was okay. She would be okay.

[anjuschiffer]

An Unlikely Friend

It’s day 4 of @bnhavillaindeku-zine‘s Villain!Deku Fanweek 2018! Today’s prompt: trust! Hope you enjoy this!

~

“Why don’t you leave the girl alone?” Kirishima said, stepping between a couple that was shouting at each other, or rather he thought the two were a couple.

It was a sight to see; the girl kept pestering the guy who obviously looked uncomfortable the entire time. The two didn’t compliment each other, not that Kirishima knew anything about dating nor love. He had to set those things aside when he decided to take the path of a Hero and reach his main goal: find his missing mother.

The agency he decided to internship at was in the middle of a swap program. He was stuck with a stealth mission, something he was terrible bad with. And to make matters worse, it was uncover work at a nightclub. Great.

“Izuku! Please don’t leave!” The girl whined, clinging onto Izuku’s arm. Izuku tried to rip the girl off of him, annoyance spelt clearly on his face. On second thought, maybe Kirishima should help the dude out.

“Get off of me Toga!” Izuku said, feeling someone rip Toga from his arm. Once apart, Izuku noticed the red haired guy standing between them. “Thanks.” Izuku said, looking at his arm sleeve, now ripped down the middle.

Seriously? He really liked this dress shirt! It was the only burgundy one he had!

“Toga?” Kirishima said, his eyes widening. He quickly turned to see if he heard right, only that-

“Finally! She left. Thanks for helping me Kirishima.” Izuku said, quickly regretting that he said Kirishima’s name.

“How do you know my name?” Kirishima said, looking at Izuku sternly.

“Who wouldn’t know you? Anyone would know you after the whole sports festival shown on television a while ago! Especially a Quirk fanatic like myself!” Izuku said, smiling and extending his hand towards Kirishima. “The name’s Izuku. What’s yours?” Kirishima looked at him before shaking it.

“Kirishima. So what’s a guy like you doing here?” Kirishima said, observing his surroundings. No one had paid them any attention, meaning Izuku was by himself. Or at least Kirishima can believe that.

“Why don’t we have a seat and some drinks? And don’t worry! They’re safe to drink! And we have non alcoholic drinks as well! I prefer to be able to go to job the next morning than having to get rid of a hangover after all.” Izuku said with a laugh, guiding Kirishima to a secluded area in the back.

As they walked by, Kirishima couldn’t help but notice that everyone who saw Izuku pass by either avoid his gaze or do a little bow even though they were clearly bigger and older than Izuku. Who exactly was this guy? “Have a seat.” Izuku told Kirishima, raising his hand in the air.

“Thanks.” Kirishima said, sitting on the opposite side of the curved sofa. A girl in all black attire came up to them, sitting next to Izuku. Izuku smiled at her, leaning into her ear to say something, making the girl nod her head. Izuku looked back at Kirishima

“Sorry about that! Before we start talking, what do you want to drink?” Izuku said, making Kirishima tense up.

“W-whatever you’re having.” Kirishima said, hoping that he wasn’t about to get anything too crazy to drink. Izuku nodded his head.

“Make that two glasses of the usual then.” Izuku said, the girl nodding and leaving to get said drinks. “So then, what brings you here Kirishima? Stressed out?” Izuku said.

“Something like that.” Kirishima said, rubbing the back of his head. “Got into a few things I wasn’t expecting to get into.”

“Is that so?” Izuku said, the girl coming to the table with a glass of two wine glasses and a bottle of wine. Kirishima let out a sigh of relief. No beer. Thank god!

“Yea, being a hero in training… I didn’t think it was going to be so-”

“Stressful?” Izuku finished the sentence for Kirishima. “I know what you mean. After all, working in an office is similar to hero agencies.” Izuku grabbed the glass, taking a sip. “Wanting to do things perfectly and precisely, comparing yourself to others and whatnot.” Izuku said.

“Then wanting to sometimes yell in frustration when you realize how much more effort you have to do just to get where everyone else is at.” Kirishima said, taking the glass of wine and chugging down half of it.

“Right?!” Izuku said in agreement. “There are times where I wish I could restart everything.” Kirishima laughed, Izuku joining in. Damn, when was the last time he was able to enjoy himself like this?

“Or when you could just kick that obnoxious guy at work who lacks morality only to find out you can’t.” Kirishima added, making Izuku quickly agree.

“Damn I hate those types of people!” Izuku said. “But you know what I hate the most?” Izuku said, pouring himself a second serving. He then motioned Kirishima to bring his empty glass forward, in which Kirishima obliged.

“So what do you hate the most?” Kirishima said, saying a thank you after Izuku finished pouring the wine for him.

“People like you.” Izuku said, chugging down his second glass and setting his glass down loudly. Kirshima froze midway from finishing his glass. Don’t let him get to you.

“What do you mean?” Kirishima said, finishing his drink and setting his glass down quietly. His glass made a slight sound against the table. There went his macho bluff.

“You’re new here, aren’t you?” Izuku said. Kirishima sighed.

“So what convinced you that I was?” Kirishima said, praying to God that this night doesn’t get any worse.

“I was told that tonight someone was going to try and scoop out something from inside here. Not that it matters to me.” Izuku said, pouring a third glass. “I simply come here for the benefits and nothing else.”

“Was that the only thing?” Kirishima said, pouring himself another glass.

“Nope.” Izuku said. Just how terrible was he at this?! “You quickly looked to see if anyone glanced my way once you took Toga off of me, an amateur move. Anyone who’s used to spying would’ve simply rely on instinct or even on the atmosphere of the room whenever something happens.” Izuku said, pointing towards the ceiling, making Kirishima look up. “Also, they would’ve relied on anything that can reflect proper images regardless if they’re rigged.”

“So I’m just that terrible?” Kirishima said with a laugh. Izuku smiled, one of those smiles that sent shivers down your spine. Wrong response.

“Also, anyone would avoid a private conference with me at this place.” Izuku said, taking a blade from within the sofa cushions. “It basically means a path straight to your death.” Kirishima felt his blood freeze. Just what did he get himself into?

“And why are you telling me this?” Kirishima said, Izuku looking at him sternly. “Because if you’re trying to throw me off, congratulations! You already did!” Kirishima said, admitting complete defeat. “However, I will get my job done.” Kirishima said, looking at Izuku with determination and promise in his eyes.

An odd silence swarmed the two of them, suffocating Kirishima. Izuku was the one to break it with a small sigh.

“A man of his words huh?” Izuku said, getting up to plop himself next to Kirishima. Kirishima stiffened. “Guess I was wrong. You’re the type of person who I like.” Izuku said, making a fist and slightly bumped it against Kirishima’s chest. “An honest guy who follows his beliefs. That’s why,” Izuku said, grabbing something in Kirishima’s chest pocket. “You destroyed the transmitter and camera on purpose.” Kirishima was flabbergasted.

“How?” Kirishima said, looking at Izuku smile at him. “How or when did you notice?”

“When you ripped Toga away from me, you skin was hardened a bit, which not only allowed you to push Toga off of me, but also rip my shirt, something you didn’t notice.” Izuku said, showing the ripped sleeve to Kirishima. “That’s also the reason why people avoided me even more than today. They thought I was going to snap. You did rip my favorite dress shirt after all! But this also gave you the perfect chance to find a way to stop the recordings.” Kirishima laughed.

“You really are something, aren’t you Izuku?”

“I guess you can say that.” Izuku said, reaching to grab his glass, only for Kirishima to hand it to him. “And in a way I have to thank you for that.” Izuku said, sipping his glass.

“How so?” Kirishima said, looking at Izuku curiously.

“I have a way to bring this club to its end.” Izuku said, his smile dropping. “The only reason I wasn’t able to was because of Toga.”

“The crazy girl from earlier?” Kirishima asked. Izuku nodded, rubbing his temple.

“Yea, that’s the one. Woman would cling to me whenever I would step into this damn club, rendering me motionless and not being able to give my assistant this.” Izuku said, taking out a vanilla envelope and handing it to Kirishima. “Whenever I would try to, Toga would rip the files, burn them even!” Izuku said, looking at the envelope. “This is the information you need to do that, I’m sure of it. It’s probably even the information you came to discover about this club.” Izuku said. Kirishima looked at the envelope and then at Izuku.

“Are you sure about this? Why give it to me? Why not that assistant of yours?” Kirishima asked, concern in every word. Izuku smiled.

“For some reason, something tells me I can trust you to do this for me.” Izuku said, placing a hand on Kirishima’s shoulder. “And if all goes well,” Izuku took out a card and handed it to Kirishima. “Give me a call. I would want to return the favor.”

“But why go through all this just to bring out this club down?” Kirishima asked, watching Izuku’s face turn grim.

“You see this club, it’s a human trafficking headquarters,”Izuku said, not wanting to finish the sentence. 

One that killed not only best friend, but stole the person that Kirishima has been looking for: his mother.

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