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humbledragon669 · 7 months ago

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S2E1 - The Arrival Write Up P8 - the Present Day from the "I Was Wrong" dance

I don’t see any point in beating about the bush, let’s dive straight in – plenty still to cover in this final five minutes (sans credits) of the first episode of season two. The first item in my notes for this section is something we see for just a few frames before Crowley even gets through the door of the bookshop:

This is not a happy angel. In fact he looks almost tormented, doesn’t he? Sitting there, just staring into space. Goodness knows what’s going through his head at this point, but I don’t think he’s thinking about whatever it was he had intended to do when he sat down behind his desk. And whatever it is, it looks like he’s pretty deep in thought given his jump-scare reaction when the door opens. Speaking of which, the door has either been left unlocked or Crowley has miracled it open, because there is no sound of a door rattling or key turning in the lock before he comes striding into the shop. Either of those possibilities has some lovely subtext – the former would suggest Aziraphale has deliberately left it open knowing that Crowley is going to come back (don’t forget, it’s now full dark outside, so it’s likely way past closing time), the latter suggests that Crowley knows he would have locked up and wants his entrance into the shop to be dramatic. I lean towards the former, but that’s largely due to the lack of evidence to support the latter.

I’m going to state the obvious at this point. I absolutely love the scene that follows. I think it’s probably a fandom favourite. The chemistry between this pair is bang on, the comedy timing is perfect, and we get a couple of new Aziracrow history facts. Not to mention we get to see Crowley do a little dance (which was unspeakably surprising in the first watch – I think I actually squealed). And I was in love with this scene before the chemistry, before the dance, before Crowley takes off his glasses, even before Aziraphale puts on his glasses and pretends to be busy. Here’s the moment I fell in love with this scene:

I’m sure you won’t be surprised to read that it was the soundtrack that initially swept me off my feet here. That moaning guitar noise gets me weak at the knees every single time. But it doesn’t really stop there for the genius score writing – check out the beginning of the next phrase with the plucked strings. Classic music-writing device to convey comedy, and I think the two are perfectly placed – the guitar slides in as Crowley slithers his way back into the shop, the strings make their star entrance as we see Aziraphale trying to make the impression that he’s busy, not at all thinking about the argument he’s had with Crowley and wondering when he’s going to come back, thank-you-very-much.

I seriously adore this movement he makes for two reasons. Firstly because he has to readjust his entire posture and position to settle into the place that would be necessary to actually work at his desk. Look how far he has to shift his butt forward to lean over the desk properly! The second reason I love this is because Crowley is already stood right in front of him, looking at him. He would have seen the entire thing. It’s so blatantly obvious that this is an act, not just for us as an audience but for Crowley too.

Personal side note: I am actually sitting here giggling at everything as I rewatch tiny bits of this scene whilst I write this. I just can’t help it. Did I mention I love this scene? Right, back to it…

Let’s make it very clear what this dramatic gesture (complete with comedic string glissando to really highlight the movement) is shall we? We know that Crowley has been in Aziraphale’s presence without his sunglasses on countless occasions. We also know that he only really removes his sunglasses when he’s comfortable in his surroundings and his company (at least in the AD years). I can’t imagine he is comfortable with either of those things at this present moment at time, considering that he knows he’s in trouble. I don’t think I’d be alone in thinking that he does this at this particular moment in time to show Aziraphale that he’s making himself vulnerable for the angel. He has nowhere to hide without those glasses – he’s completely exposed. Which is also why I think he makes a big show of it: it’s actually a grand (somewhat melodramatic) gesture – “look at what I’m doing for you, so you’ll know how earnest I’m being”. This complicated subtext really demonstrates the reason I love this scene so much – there are just so many layers in it.

Whatever I think of Crowley’s “grand gesture”, Aziraphale ain’t buying it. I’m sure that stubborn angel saw what Crowley has done, but it’s just met with a clearing of the throat and a fake “that’s interesting” noise as he reads his little index cards. But that little noise really says something else to me – it’s a sort of “is that all you got?”. The message is pretty clear to everyone – this angel is still pretty pissed.

The set of Crowley’s jaw in this little shot is quite something, isn’t it?! I love the way he’s gone from a cautious-yet-dramatic entrance to try and establish the lay of the land to simply throwing his sunglasses on the table and ringing a bell to announce his arrival. It’s almost like he thinks he really has to emphasise that he’s taken off his glasses, you know, just in case Aziraphale hadn’t noticed. And the “I’m back” line? On the surface it’s stating the obvious, but let’s not forget why the angel had asked him to come to the bookshop in the first place – to take his place as the rescuer. This is him announcing he’s taking up the mantle again, and don’t you just love that he thinks that will be enough to let him get away without having to apologise? Gotta love him for trying I suppose.

There is a shot of Aziraphale in the Bentley that we’ll see in episode 3 that I have seen described as being the best demonstration of the angel in full bitch mode. I disagree – I think this moment takes it. This is pure bitchy rage and sarcasm at its absolute best. And underneath the snark and the stubborn refusal to look at Crowley to acknowledge that he has laid himself bare, there’s a clear message: “it’s not enough”. Crowley’s groan is evidence that for once he hasn’t missed his cue – as much as he might be hoping to get away without making an apology, he knows that’s probably not going to happen. I say probably because he tries to get out of it again:

CROWLEY: You want a big “I think I said the wrong thing” sort of apology, or can we take that as said?

I find the choice of words here interesting. Notice he doesn’t say “I did the wrong thing” or even “I was wrong”. It feels to me like there’s an element of “I’m sorry you feel that way” about, like he’s not really sorry for saying those things, but bitter about their consequences. And let’s not forget that he not only said a lot of things that Aziraphale got upset with, but reneging on the arrangement of him being the rescuer, leaving the angel to deal with the situation alone, likely causes more anger than the words that were said. He also says “I think” before the rest of the phrase (suggesting he really doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong), not to mention that this whole sentence is actually just a last-ditch attempt to get out of the apology. It’s not really any surprise that Aziraphale isn’t satisfied with this lame excuse for an olive branch.

Did I say that little sarcastic line from earlier was Aziraphale’s bitchiest moment? My bad. This. This is it here. Man, if words could kill, these would do it. And note that Crowley still doesn’t actually take responsibility for his actions, choosing instead to try and placate his angel by telling him he was right instead.

I think we’re about to find out what it is that Aziraphale was thinking about whilst he was staring into space at the beginning of the scene.

There it is – he was never going to take anything less, was he? There is so much to unpack here too.

AZIRAPHALE: I want a proper apology- CROWLEY: No.

That’s interesting – Crowley knew exactly what was coming before Aziraphale actually asked for it. Which makes it clear that this “proper apology” is something that has been referred to before. Next up:

AZIRAPHALE: -with the little dance. CROWLEY: I don’t do the dance.

Curiouser and curiouser… So Crowley has never done this dance before. Hold your horses though, because here comes a piece of Aziracrow lore that everyone is dying to know more about. According to Aziraphale, he’s performed this dance at least three times before. I say at least because it actually sounds like he’s going to keep going with that list (if I was a betting person, I’d say the last of those dates might have been after Crowley delivered the Antichrist to the nunnery). He’s also furious about it.

And whatever those dances were for, the reason(s) was significant enough for the dates to be carved into Aziraphale’s memory (granted two of the three tie up with known meetings between the two of them, and I know we’re all pretty sure that 1941 is going to turn out to have been meaningful for other reasons). I have my own theory about the reason behind the dances, which I have written a fanfic about. Feel free to read it here if you like, just know that it’s a WIP at the moment (still!) until I get to the 1941 minisode in this season (which, at this rate, is going to be a little while).

It’s at this point I want to pick up on how we as a fandom refer to what’s about to happen. I think I’ve seen it mostly called the “Apology Dance” - I have in fact referred to it by that name almost every time I’ve talked about it. However, neither Crowley nor Aziraphale actually call it that. Crowley simply refers to it as “the dance”, whilst Aziraphale calls it by three names - “a proper apology”, the “little dance”, or the “I-was-wrong dance”. I don’t think it’s hugely important, and I think that, unfortunately, the adopted name may have come about due to a reference made to by the creator. I think there might be something interesting in the fact that it isn’t actually called an “apology dance”, by either of its benefactors, on a linguistic level, but that’s not for here. There are some details about the linguistics used for the words that go along with the dance that I’d like to take a brief look at in just a moment. For now let’s just soak up in the silent sass we see Aziraphale gives Crowley to signal that he’s ready for the performance:

I mean, could this angel be more ready to revel in Crowley’s humiliation? The head tilt. The eyebrow raise. Such perfect bitch-delivery. Something that the 3-second long pause we see before the performance actually begins would suggest that the demon is well aware of, and that he’s still silently begging not to have to go through with the whole thing. Let’s get back to those “lyrics”.

CROWLEY: You were right, you were right, I was wrong, you were right.

There are a couple of things I find interesting about this set of words, the first being the fact that there isn’t actually an apology anywhere in them. The other requires remembering that this dance has only been previously been performed by Aziraphale for Crowley, which means that these words were devised to appease the demon. What we don’t know at this point is who devised them in the first place. I do hope that we’ll get some closure about this whole thing in season’t 3, but I just don’t know if there will be enough time in 90 minutes to cover the topic.

I am not ignoring the fact that the final pose of the dance looks distinctly like Crowley has extended his wings, I just feel like it’s probably so obvious I might be insulting people by pointing it out. What I do want to give credit to is the depth David has gotten out of that ice skater/one-legged squat pose. Honestly, I do yoga and a squats work out on a regular basis, and that sort of depth (without falling over) is not even close to being within my reach.

Last thing to say about the dance itself, or rather the music that goes along with it. This little tune took me a long time to identify, and it nearly drive me nuts, but I did get there in the end. I think it’s “Girls and Boys Come Out to Play”. Or it could just be a sequence of descending minor thirds, because I can’t see how the lyrics or history of that song links to anything about GO. Answers on a postcard.

Jeez, Aziraphale, could you thirst any harder? (Yes, it’s coming up in the next episode…) It doesn’t look like Crowley really notices, though he does understand that consent has now been given for him to resume his role as rescuer, closing the distance (very quickly) between them. He also returns to using collective pronouns instantly:

CROWLEY: We need to keep him here and hide him.

Aziraphale doesn’t notice until the demon uses the word “together”, and even then it comes as a bit of a surprise. (Side note: there appears to be a fire alarm going off somewhere in the background at this point. Not as obvious as the helicopter I could hear earlier on in the scene I suppose…) And despite the fact that Crowley is trying to do his thing (rescuing), he’s still clearly very, VERY worried about the plan - we’ve gone into full hand-wringing, freak-out-face mode:

It only really occurred to me what this look of intense worry might have been whilst I was doing this write up. I’m going to try and be as succinct as I can here, but I don’t know if I can word it very precisely. So. It’s only at this point that the suggestion of the pair of them doing half a miracle is raised, by Aziraphale. Which means that, despite Crowley using collective pronouns and saying that they were going to do it together, what he actually meant was that Aziraphale could do a miracle. And what Aziraphale meant when he said that he couldn’t do it because Heaven would notice even the smallest miracle was that he a) interpreted Crowley’s plan in that same way in the first place and b) was subtextually saying that actually the demon should do the miracle himself. Crowley’s defence that he doesn’t want Hell’s attention would suggest that he in turn understood what was being asked. Furthermore, Crowley’s reaction to Aziraphale’s suggestion now would also back up that idea that he wasn’t actually suggesting that they do a joint miracle in the first place, because it’s clear that this is a new idea for him. Phew, that was a lot of words to say that their exactlys weren’t exactly the same exactlys, but I felt like I had to get it out of my head. And of course it would be remiss of me to point out how thrilled Aziraphale is at getting Crowley’s approval, but I do feel like that’s been discussed at length by many other people already, so instead I’ll just leave this here:

It seems like such a long time since I talked about anybody other than Crowley or Aziraphale, and it feels even longer since I talked about Gabriel/Jim, and about how he does seem to understand some social cues. Well, here he is, clearly interpreting Crowley’s dislike of him with indignation:

He even manages a little sass of his own when he has to repeat his adopted name to Crowley. He softens quickly enough though, letting himself be led into the chair, which brings me to my next observation. The chair appears to have been placed directly over the (inactive) seal that marks the portal to Heaven.

Obviously there’s a rug over it now, but I’m pretty sure that’s the right spot. Why there? There are any number of places that Crowley could have put that chair. He could even just have left it where it was. Does he even know what he’s done? I don’t think we’ve ever seen him in the bookshop with it uncovered or activated, so perhaps not, but it feels like a pretty big coincidence if that’s the case. I know we all love the idea that the reason the miracle that’s about to be performed is so strong because it was done by both of them, but I do also wonder if the placing of the chair has anything to do with it.

I find it interesting that Crowley is only really worried about attracting Heaven’s attention at this point. He doesn’t mention Hell in this little speech at all, and Aziraphale doesn’t offer his own counter-speech to Crowley. The demon does in fact seem to be doing his absolute best to reign the angel in as much as possible, something which Aziraphale doesn’t dispute or bicker over. There’s something else - and it’s to do with the miracle noise used here:

Oh, wait. That’s not the miracle noise from this scene, is it? It’s the miracle noise from Aziraphale vanishing the soldier in the last episode of season 1. This is actually the miracle noise from the season 2 scene:

Yeah… they’re the same (if you're not convinced, try listening through headphones - I'm not sure the first component comes through in the first clip properly on speakers). There are a number of possibilities for this. Firstly, and this is something I have been toying with more and more as the season has gone one, that the noise isn’t actually related to the caster of the miracle, but the caster’s intentions (good vs. bad). This would work for this scenario, as the intentions in both scenes aren’t driven by morality but by need. The second possibility is that the sound contents aren’t actually relevant to anything other than to signify that a miracle has happened. I don’t buy this - this show is far too heavy on the hidden details for that to be a thing as far as I’m concerned, but even if that is the case, that will also become important in time. Thirdly, is it possible that Crowley didn’t actually didn’t do anything except move his hand down here? That would explain why he was so focussed on telling Aziraphale not to overdo it, whilst simultaneously avoiding making assurances that he would do the same. We never see Hell tracing anything back to Crowley either, which sort of makes sense because Gabriel is one of theirs, but also doesn’t make sense because Beelzebub has made it very clear that she’s also looking for the lost archangel, and that she believes Crowley has knowledge about it. There’s also something else to consider, which you can see here:

Now obviously we don’t really have anything to compare this to - this is the first time we’ve seen some sort of barrier formed by ethereal/occult intervention (their words, not mine). That said, it looks to me like all those little highlights that run through the barrier are gold, which is very definitely part of the Heavenly colour scheme (see the outfit Crowley chooses to manifest for his visit to Heaven). There are no other colours here at all. One last thing to think about:

CROWLEY: That was a Class A surreptitious half-a-miracle.

Huh. Not two half-a-miracles. Just one. Singular. Which would imply that only one of them did what they had agreed to do, and only Crowley would know that, because in this theory, he’s the only one of them that hasn’t carried out his part of the deal. I have no idea why this would be, or the motivations behind it, but I definitely think it’s something to chew on. Speaking of things to chew on, I can’t stop wondering why Aziraphale looks like he’s about to give Crowley a talking-to after he says that he’s not the archangel’s friend.

No idea what that bothers me so much. Partly because of how cheerfully he’s just spoken to Jim I think, that it’s such a turn-around, but I can’t really pin it down.

There’s one tiny thing I want to pick up before I (finally) sign off on this episode. It’s the way that Michael refers to Aziraphale.

MICHAEL: There’s a former angel in this up to his bookshop-owning neck.

Interesting. As far as I was concerned, Aziraphale was very much still an angel. He might not officially work for Heaven anymore but that doesn’t negate the nature of his being. That’s a little like saying that a retired racehorse isn’t a horse any longer. Maybe it’s supposed to reflect how Heaven thinks of him now, but I find it an interesting choice of words nonetheless. More to chew on.

Well I don’t know about you, but that last couple of minutes gave me a lot of things to think about! This episode has felt somewhat like a marathon compared to those in season 1, but I think the likelihood is that the rest of the season (Final 15 excluded) should be an easier affair. If nothing else, the next couple of episodes should break down a little easier given the minisode format that was employed. Congratulations if you made it this far with me - this one has been a long one! As always, questions, comments, discussion: always welcome. See you for the next one! 😊

#good omens #episode analysis #aziracrow #ineffable idiots #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #head canon #apology dance #good omens season 2 #good omens gabriel #good omens soundtrack #good omens meta

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markantonys · 5 months ago

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I love the EF5 and Elayne as forsaken in the teaser. Love mats cunty little crop top

mat's cunty little crop top! elayne's high ponybraid! rand's shoulderpiece and evil smirk! egwene's combat boots! nynaeve's braids and dark lipstick! perrin's broody hooded cloak! this is me currently:

any other time in the past that i've said "this altered my brain chemistry" pales in comparison to this. i am truly a changed woman after seeing this shot. i haven't thought about any other shot in the trailer as much as i've thought about this one. shirtless rand tied to a wheel in the first s2 teaser, now this in the first s3 teaser, the marketing team's agenda every promo season is to awaken something in me and i can only thank them for it. once we get the actual full scene of this i will go absolutely feral and that is a promise.

speaking of, i hope the scene is at least a minute or two long and not just a quick 10-second flicker-flicker! they wouldn't have crafted such cunty looks only to waste them on a 10-second flicker-flicker, surely? i'd imagine plenty of moiraine's AUs will just be quick flashes, but an AU where all the kids turned to the dark feels like one that might be worth exploring a smidge longer. i need closeup shots on each of them, i need to hear their evil versions all say at least one evil line! barring that, sharon gilham please post closeup pics of all of them in these costumes i'm begging!

in conclusion, i would like to be transported into this AU to play the role of the gothic horror maiden whom Dark Randlayne kidnaps into their castle to do unspeakable things to.

#anonymous #answered #wot show spoilers

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sgiandubh · 2 years ago

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Jottings: Season 7, Episode 2. Nothing compares to them

A tiny, but welcome disclaimer: I have not read all the OL books yet, so do not expect witty repartees and connecting the dots with the current book follow-up by the series. In fact, I am still struggling right now with Voyager, after I gave a resolute middle finger and an excruciating amount of time to Dragonfly in Amber, which bored me to death with its sketchy depiction of eighteenth-century Paris. Unpopular opinion, I know: I can't help it, since I consider Paris, for many personal reasons, as my second, beloved home.

There go my two cents, with little to no spoilers. There is much to savor in there:

I thought I couldn't bear to watch one more single time Sinéad O'Connor's rendition of ye olde Skye Boat Song. I was wrong. I think it is exactly what this season needs: a bit bruised & battered & breathless. The perfect tinge of rough around the edges. This is no walk in the park and hers is the right cue, setting the tone for all the rest.

Vlachos. Excellent. Loved every second of it.

I suppose everybody will talk about the Look Jamie gave Claire right after Insufferable Bree gives birth to wee Mandy. I cackled all by myself, which is not even surprising. And so will you, Shippers United. Mark me.

SS upgraded a bit her game, to the extent she doesn't sound all the time like reciting United Airlines' flight schedule. She and Rankin finally manage to pull off a decent rapport (chemistry will always be at a deep-frozen 0). So, rejoice: at least they don't look like the mean troop leader forced them to share the same tent at Camp Sunrise. It's all fine and dandy, until she relaxes and slips back into that horrific, East Coast wannabe accent. Sorry, not sorry.

Did Lizzie say ”Fraser's Fridge”, when reading the birth announcement, or am I hearing things again? Now that's an earworm, sheesh...

Vandervaart looks promising enough, but what do I know, after a two-minutes scene with SS? Court is adjourned.

LJG & JAMMF, what a powerful, ambiguous, elegant scene. Tension is mounting, and this is when you crack open the Netflix & Chill'd ice cream bucket. It will come in handy, trust me.

The fireflies' scene was the death of me. There is something extraordinary about S's superb ability to speak volumes without uttering a single word. There is so much love and such despair to capture Bree's face, Bree's voice, Bree's alien joy when she mentions damn Mickey Mouse, and keep them forever. Did I ugly cry? I let out a sincere Fuuuuuck and couldn't help it. This is when the box of tissues came in handy, and you know, damn the consequences.

Dear (?) Diana Gabaldon: GET THAT WONDERFUL MAN THROUGH THE STONES, WHERE THERE'S PENICILLIN AND A HOT BATH AND A HIGHER AVERAGE LIFE EXPECTANCY, STAT.

Yeah, sure. She missed that point five seasons ago, why do I even bother?

Spoiler: "What was it like.... there? It was.... magical". BOOO-HOOO-HOOO (I have no qualms).

Jeremiah's wooden toy plane in the streets of Wilmington and then the real thing across the sky, just after the little family gets through the stones. Clever reminder of that plane landing in Boston, with Claire, Bree and TMcG... ho-hum ... Frank Randall, after Culloden.

And finally, since I would really like to let you enjoy the wonderful last quarter of it, Jamie and Claire. That unspeakable tenderness that keeps us all completely spellbound. This is S&C acting, how could it be otherwise: and splendid, at that. But their acting, since that chemistry test, is informed by clear, present, deep feelings. We know. They know we know.

And they got their mojo back. I always hoped and prayed they will go out with a bang, not a fizzle. And it seems I was right. Fingers crossed. I trust them and, as always, I trust my gut.

#jottings

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swallowedbyfandom · 8 months ago

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(Card with bouquet of yellow carnations)

Mr. B. Bridgerton,

After over two decades tied to one man riddled with vices, please be assured I am not in the market for another.

I implore you to never speak to me again. It is not necessary for us to do more than exchange polite greetings.

I rebuke you in the name of Jesus.

Never again,

Lady Featherington

Ben!

Did you take some of Colin's Grecian tea, again? What on earth did you do, to make Portia Featherington send you such a harsh message? Kate and mother literally winced when they saw the floral arrangement!

Did you make some sort of sexual overture at her? I cannot emphasize enough, how bad an idea it would be to take Portia Featherington as a mistress. Can you imagine the horrors Penelope and Colin would inflict on you?

You should avoid mother for a while. Lady Featherington sent her a letter to clear up any confusion. Mother did not share the letter but she was mortified and muttering darkly under her breath after reading it. Be wary, brother.

Wishing you were a civilized being,

Ant

Dear Violet,

I am hoping to clear up any issues before they arise. I AM NOT, I REPEAT, NOT INTERESTED IN TAKING YOUR SECOND SON AS MY PARAMOUR. I am aghast that your ridiculous boy seems to believe I am the sort of Lady who would go around inviting children into my bed! Heavens, the hubris of your son to think a friendly gesture is some sort of covert invitation.

Yesterday I gave your Benedict a pillow the midwives recommended Penelope use after birthing the twins. She had an extra one here. My thought process was that be could use such a thing to ease his discomfort. He kept squirming about his seat when he waited for Colin and the twins to join us for tea. I only meant to be a good host! Your whore son began a long winded spiel on how given his recent injury he did not believe we could possibly perform such an illicit act together. When I politely asked what in all of creation he meant, your son proceeded to wax poetic about such filth. I was forced to flee my own home in sheer horror. It is unspeakable Violet. I do not know what type of people your son has learned such depravity from but I want no part of it.

I have taken six baths and gotten completely foxed thrice and still I cannot rid myself of the shame of hearing such blasphemy. What the hell is wrong with your son? I shall pray for his soul.

Regards,

Portia

Benedict Benjamin Bridgerton,

When I get my hands on you! I shall wash your mouth out with soap. I will not protect you from whatever justified, revenge Lady Featherington is currently plotting. If Portia Featherington of all people deemed something utterly unspeakable, I know whatever you said must be truly appalling.

I feel it only fair to warn you that Portia asked Penelope for Eloise's current mailing address. I am positive you deserve whatever those two are going to plan for you. I s it too much to ask for a single season without scandal? How am I to ever marry you off to a decent lady? If you insist on behaving like a feral Tom cat in heat?

I am sure I will regret asking however, what did you think the pillow meant?

Regretfully,

Your mother

Mother,

This is all an awful misunderstanding. I assumed that if she managed to keep Lord Featherington out of the brothels for a solid decade then she must be more adventurous then she appears. How was I to know she did not realize what her gesture meant?

I am a Gentleman I would never have spoken on such a topic if I knew she was innocent on such things. I would have simply warned her that her gesture had different connotations in certain circles. You must understand that such pillows are often used for recovery after a rather taboo act.

I will apologize and make amends as soon as possible. I am currently going to look at some properties in the country. I am dodging Colin's attempts to avenge Lady Featherington's honor. I will keep in touch.

Love,

Ben

Ben,

You can run but you cannot hide. The longer you drag this out the angrier I shall become. My wife is with child once more, so I cannot be distracted by hunting you down.

Let us handle this quickly and quietly. Name a time and place so that I may punch you in your mouth.The punch is nonnegotiable. You accused my mama of wanting to engage in acts of sodomy with you! You absolute scoundrel. She is our family! There is no earthly reason for you to believe she would ever offer you such a thing!

Disguised with you,

Col

Ant,

Please send me the invoice for the replacement of all of Benedict's trousers, when it comes in. I am ashamed to admit that in a fit of hormonal anger I may have broken into Ben's home and cut the crotch out of every pair of trousers he owns. I am sure his staff will soon discover my misdeeds and send word to you.

Can we please keep this quiet? I am terribly embarrassed to have reacted in such a childish manner.

Shamefaced,

Pen

Sister,

I so adore your mischief. Think of it no more, that is a hilarious prank. I shall have new trousers commissioned but I will leave the altered ones in place so he can discover them himself.

Do not concern yourself with the invoice. Benedict can afford to pay for his lapse in good sense.

Fondly,

Ant

#bridgerton #polin #anthony bridgerton #violet bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #portia featherington #unhinged bridgertons #bridgerton fanfiction

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notinthislife50 · 2 years ago

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Chapter 12

Previous Chapter

Next Chapter

It was con season. you lived for this. It was your favorite time of the year, listening to fans and getting to know them. It was amazing.

You, Misha, and Ruth were walking around backstage you had become so engrossed in a story you were telling when you smacked, banged into a man in front of you. As you looked up to apologise, Tom Hiddleston stood before you.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry I was too busy talking and I wasn’t paying attention, I’m so sorry” you blabbered.

Tom smiled at you and you swore you died.

“No harm done Y/n, though I’ll have to hear that story sometime, sounds intriguing,” he laughed walking away.

You stood for a minute squeezing Misha's arm.

“Earth to y/n Squeezing a bit hard there,” he smiled at you.

“Did that just happen, Misha? Please tell me that just happened,” you squeaked.

Misha looked at Ruth and smirked “Y/n is in love with Tom Hiddleston, she’s gonna marry him someday and have his babies.”

“You know it,” you punched Misha in the arm. “I need to tell Jared” you screamed and ran off.

As you came backstage to where your panel was going to be held, you screamed Jared’s name.

“What happened?” Jared looked concerned.

When you saw Jensen beside him you hesitated and whispered ”You know what it’s fine, just bumped into someone and wanted to tell you,” you said not sure if he was ready for that part of your life.

“Hey,” Jensen grabbed your arm to stop you from walking away “Please tell us. If you can’t tell your best friends who you just stalked then who can you tell.” He laughed, but you caught the pleading under it.

You smiled. This was the Jensen you missed. And you knew he was offering you an olive branch, so you bit the bullet and you being you in your most dramatic voice ever you told them how you just bumped into the Tom Hiddleston and how he was sex on legs, and you would let that man do unspeakable things to you.

The boys laughed at how star-struck you were. They knew how much you loved Marvel. And Loki was your favorite character.

“Oh my god, I need to tell Mark” you squealed Squeezing Jensen's arms and hugging him, and then you ran off.

Jensen couldn’t help but smile after that squeeze.

“She never gives up on you man, she loves you " Jared smiled “You never lost her she just wanted to give you your space.”

Jensen sighed “I know” and then he smiled at Jared “I have an idea!”

You had all been seated for your panel, this time you took your seat between the boys. the original seat you had in the beginning, it felt great to be here, it was where you all started off. Jared, you, and Jensen. and you beamed as you sat between them, it was like everything was getting back to normal.

Everyone was answering questions from the audience and you felt yourself getting overwhelmed. You hated the fact you weren’t confident and that you always questioned yourself when talking to fans. Did they really like you or did they just feel sorry for you as you were stuck between these two strong handsome characters?

You pulled on a bit of string you found in your pocket. Trying to not show your emotions. But you had blocked out all the noise. At one point you looked at your hand while you were tying the string and had zoned out. Then you heard “My question is for Y/n” and then you heard the screams and felt Jensen squeeze your arm.

Your head shot up and you saw Tom Hiddleston standing at the microphone.

You were speechless for a few seconds and then you held your finger out smiled and mouthed "One second, please."

You took out your wallet and took out 50 dollars and walked over to Rob and slammed it down in front of him. He and Richard screamed in laughter as did the rest of the cast.

Jensen saw Tom look confused. “Sorry man, but Y/n has a swear jar on set, and every time she curses she has to put 5 dollars into the jar. So I’m guessing she has a lot to say.” He laughed.

As you looked at Jensen you asked “Did you set this up?”

And he just shrugged smiling.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck," you whispered but your mic picked up everything. You breathed in and your demeanor changed. you sat up straight and looked at Tom and took a breath. “Of course, what’s your name sir," you smiled hoping he’d play the game. God please play the game you willed.

“I’m Tom” He played the game back smirking.

“Nice to meet you Tom, and are you enjoying comic com?” you asked.

“Very much so, ” he smiled.

“And are you here by yourself or did you bring some friends?” You asked.

“I came with friends," Tom pointed to the back of the room.

You sat in silence for a moment looking at the Marvel cast in front of you and begged yourself to be cool.

“Well hello, Tom’s friends are you all having a good time?"

And they all nodded and laughed.

So what's your question, Tom?” You nodded to him.

“So obviously Y/c/n is a good soul, she saves people on a daily basis, but do you think if she ever met Loki could he make her kneel?"

“Oh absolutely," you grinned.

“What?” Jensen asked "Y/n I am appalled" he mocked hurt that you answered that so quickly.

“I mean have you seen the guy in chains? 100 percent sure she would kneel, Right?" you asked the audience and they laughed and agreed with you.

When the panel ended you were on such a high. When you were all off the stage you rushed Jensen and hugged him tightly.

“Best day of my life," you smiled “Thank you but you owe me now,”

“That’s not good,” he laughed “What do you have in mind?”

As you explained your plan Jensen thought it was hilarious. “Let’s get this done," he kissed your head and you closed your eyes smiling hoping your best friend was coming back to you.

Meanwhile, at the Marvel panel, it was the now-the-Q&A part.

You approached the mic nervously and said "My question is for Tom."

The crowd reputed and you smirked up at him.

He smiled down at you and you swear your legs near give way. You looked and Jensen nervously and he nodded in reassurance.

“What's your name” Tom copied you from before.

"Y/n " you answered into the mic.

“And are you enjoying comic con?” Again shadowing your questions from before.

“Very much so,” you smiled back.

"And are you here with anyone?” Again mimicking you from before.

“Just a few friends” you motioned to where the supernatural cast stood.

The crowd screamed in delight.

“And are you dressed in anyone in particular?” He questioned.

“Oh yes. I’m dressed as a hunter from supernatural,” you replied “Plaid shirts are a must on the show." You spread your arms twirling to show off your own shirt.

“A hunter?” Tom questioned “And what exactly do you hunt?”

“Oh you know, ghosts werewolves angels, demons even a god now and then,” You smirked at him tweaking your eyebrow.

“No human could kill a god," Tom stated in his Loki voice.

“Ah well, you haven’t met Y/c/n” you casually said trying to keep your cool.

“So what's your question?” Tom asked.

“Who do you think would win a fight between Loki and Y/n"

" Loki definitely, yes” Tom smiled confidently.

“And why is that?” you tilted your head

“Well, he is far more superior than mere mortals, and plus I hear he looks great in chains,” he laughed.

After you asked your question and walked to the back, you all stood watching the end of the panel. One of the workers approached saying the Marvel cast would love you to come up on stage and do some photos, would that be okay?

“Of course,“ you all agreed

So the Marvel and supernatural cast stood together on stage taking various photos for the guests and with the guests.

You were with Tom. You thought it was because people were enjoying the interaction with you two.

After all the photos and questions Tom approached you and hugged you. " You know I think the god and the hunter should go for dinner.” he smiled.

Your breath caught in your throat for a few seconds and you tried to think of the perfect response.

“I think so too, I mean you what they say about holding your enemies close.” you smiled knowingly.

“Do you mean to keep your enemies closer? " He raised an eyebrow

“I know what I said.' you laughed

You and Tom had exchanged numbers and began dating shortly ever.

@deans-spinster-witch @fraidoftedark

#jensen ackles supernatural #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x you #supernatural fanfic #supernatural #supernatural x you #supernatural x y/n #supernatural x reader

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pufferfishpancakexd · 7 months ago

Text

South Park OC info!!!

here is some info on a south park oc I made<3

Her name is Dorothy Madison and she is Tweek's cousin, she shows up on the second episode of the fourth season

She is deaf and uses a hearing aid, and where she used to live she got bullied for it. When she moved to South Park she hid it from everyone

Kenny being Kenny was quick to jump on a new girl, even if she was ever so slightly crazy

She firmly believes in aliens, ghosts, and all sorts of superstitious stuff. She likes aliens the most, but everyone gaslights her telling her aliens aren't real because why not

She seems to be the most sweet innocent child who would never even utter a swear word, but its not exactly true

Cartman being the ∆sshole he is found out she was deaf and broke her hearing aid, leaving the scraps of it and a paper reading "Try hearing without it cvnt -your friend Eric Cartman<3"

Dorothy was absolutely livid about it, and the next day at school when she spotted him... she beat the sh!t out of him while calling him stuff most grown men wouldn't feel comfortable saying

Kenny, thought it was hot and developed a crush on her along side his already perverted mind

It also turns out Dorothy is half alien and that's why she's drawn to them so much

Along with the other kids, she also has a superhero alter-ego named Space Maiden. Its of course alien themed

Kenny starts learning sign language in hopes to impress her, only to look learn the crazy stuff she was signing to him

After learning what she was saying and knowing the truth, Kenny and Dorothy get together

They are the only couple that doesn't break up at all, but its mostly because when Kenny says something stupid he turns off her hearing aid and when if Kenny tries to break up with her she shoots him (she knows he's immortal)

Appearance:D

Normal outfit

Swimsuit

Pajamas

Superhero

My style

Lines!!!!

"Oh isn't that the kid we gave an ∆nal probe?" -one of the aliens

"Do it again" Dorothy in the episode she learns she's part alien

"I want to do unspeakable things to you Kenny, and that is why I am not speaking it. I am signing it" -Dorothy before ranting to Kenny unaware he now knows what she's saying

"I would rip your fvcking ear off and let you know what it feels like to not hear, but I think being a fatherless, psychopath, fat∆ss is already enough punishment!" -Dorothy after beating the sh!t out of Cartman for breaking her hearing aid

"You don't scare me! What are you gonna do, hurt me for 'stealing' Kenny?" -some girl

"No, but I know how to make you cave. How about instead of me hurting you, I shoot your 'dear' Kenny in the fvcking head instead?" -Dorothy in an episode where someone falls for Kenny

Nicknames!!!!

Dotty (most commonly used)

Dots

Dotzo

Dorry (her dad)

Cvnt (Cartman<3)

Thats enough yapping for now ig

#south park #south park oc #south park fanart #south park art

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llycaons · 2 years ago

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hi, which one do you recommend the most: reading mdzs, watching the anime adaptation or watching the untamed?

hi, anon! I'd be happy to help you. short answer: try the untamed, and then try the animated series if it's not grabbing you. read the novel only if you finished and enjoy one of the others, and after you've learned about its issues. as I'm unfamiliar with your specific tastes, I'll give an overview of what I think the pros and cons of each version are

oh, and I'd suggest looking up trigger warnings for any of the versions no matter what you decide to start with. the novel may be the worst in terms of romanticizing sexual violence, but the all versions include suicide, torture, child death, mass murder, gore, and various other potential triggers

The Untamed/CQL: the live action drama version of the story. this is the adaptation that is most different from the source material (the mdzs book), and the one I like the best. it's a dramatic, at times tragic, and highly emotional narrative focusing strongly on character relationships, with a lot of original context, several changes to plot and character choices, gorgeous set designs, charming cgi and practical effects, and wirework classic to wuxia. woman are a little more central than in the other versions, too. family drama and romance are both important to the story, though the central m/m love story is censored. the writers changed so much about the romance that it's quite different from the original novel and the donghua. I personally prefer the cql romance for reasons I'll get into later, but can be summed up as 'it's nicer and based on mutual respect/trust',

I love these characters and I recommend this version the most, but if you're not used to the genre it can be confusing and hard to get into. the timeline is also somewhat inconsistent so if that bothers you, it can be hard to enjoy. it's also gotten complaints about the necromancy not being as hardcore or authentic than in the other versions (it was also censored). nonetheless I would recommend starting with the untamed (it's 50 episodes total, complete and available on Viki, Netflix, or free on youtube) and googling if you have questions. as in all versions,there are a lot of characters with various names and allegiances that can seem overwhelming, but in a few episodes things becomes easier to track. if it doesn't grab you by episode 4-5, try the donghua instead. I love the opening scene to cql, but I think the donghua has a better first episode

Donghua (animated series): although it looks like an anime, it's Chinese rather than Japanese, and called a donghua. I like the donghua and it's my second recommended place to start. it's far more faithful to the original novel, and is therefore more coherent at times, with some excellent scenes that didn't make it to cql. the takes on some of the characters was also really interesting. I find the character designs unspeakably ugly and some of the scenes are really cringe, but the music, plot, background, character writing, humor and pacing make up for it, and soon enough I didn't even notice. and the necromancy was really cool! a little over the top for me, but aesthetically it went hard. unfortunately the second season of the donghua was...really bad for reasons I assume have to do with budgeting restrictions, so the story told by the donghua felt incomplete to me, with some pieces missing. but it's completed, the ending was satisfying, the and lots of people really like it. it's also free on youtube (three seasons). I did find a lot of the side characters really flat though, an issue I also have with the novel

MDZS novel: this would be my last recommended place to start, and the only one you can't get for free (to my knowledge). I have not read the official english translation, only the now-unavailable fan translation, but apparently some people find it really hard to read/poorly translated. personally I thought the book was funny, inventive, and compelling, with really cool necromancy and an unflinching relationship with violence (seriously, there is heavy gore and tragedy in the novel too), but it was poorly structured, frustrating, gave shallow side characters, and was unarguably homophobic. the central romance has some really nice scenes, and the characters are interesting, but the two love interests play into 'stoic top' and 'whiny bottom' tropes so much I couldn't stand it. much of the presumed appeal predicates on the characters violating each other's boundaries in various ways, which includes one of them forcing a kiss on the other while blindfolded, and their first sex scene being while one of them was drunk and wouldn't have consented otherwise. the kiss is later framed as romantic (even though the guy never admitted to it) and the drunk sex scene is chalked up to a tragic miscommunication that they move past immediately. the writing about one of them being 'unable to contain his urges' was super weird and I just don't think the author is very good at being normal about gay men. could have been the translation, and maybe I haven't given them the benefit of the doubt, but I just don't trust like that. the plot and necromancy is the strongest part of the book and it's not worth it for a lot of people.

see, the novel extras at the end include rape and pedophilia fantasies that are apparently enthusiastically consented to after the fact (? it's weird) so I cannot recommend it without mentioning that. also I found the love interest a lot more unlikeable and boring in the novel, compared to the donghua and especially cql. despite being a complex and interesting character, the mc was likewise extremely annoying in the novel, for reasons that made sense for the story, but that made reading him a chore. in the donghua he's fun and in cql he's one of my favorite characters of all time

the donghua and cql were both censored from showing anything explicitly gay, but imo they each handled the romance well their own way. the donghua was faithful to the novel up until a point, including their semi-antagonistic interactions and more mild crossing of boundaries, but never to the point where I had to stop watching. they had tremendous chemistry and their story ended in a very romantic way.

meanwhile cql took an entirely different approach, relegating their antagonism mostly to their young teen years and focusing instead on building a strong friendship that always seemed like it was on the cusp of something more, only to be pushed back by internal fears or external pressures. it's been criticized for not being gay enough, but the high romance between the leads was more than obvious to me, and I love how many parallels where drawn between other gay couples in the show, even ones not even implied by the other versions. of course I would have liked them to explicitly get together, but there was so much emphasis on their shared ideals, and so much subtext, such simmering tension, so much support, and so much chemistry, and so much that the actors communicated nonverbally that I saw the romance very easily. the music, acting, writing, lighting, and tone all worked in service of it

in all three versions the family situation is quite tragic but in the novel the situation is more...black and white? so in many ways cql is more tragic for being messier, and I find it the most compelling. the donghua strikes a satisfying balance but not one I was really invested in despite being pretty good

tl; dr it depends on what you like! I hope this helped, and please feel free to reach out and ask more about anything specific. it's an incredible story and I'd love for another person to experience it, no matter how

in terms of other adaptations there is also the manhua (looks kind of ugly to me but uncensored, so all the sex scenes are there and presumably the necromancy) and the audio drama (very high-quality in terms of production, but hard to find, and loyal to the novel to an unfortunate degree given the sex stuff), and the mdzs q show (looks kind of silly and sweet? idk) but I haven't seen those so I can't say much more on them

if you read this far thank you! hope you like whichever you pick!

#asks #it's so fun to talk about the differences between the adaptations! thanks for the ask #mutuals feel free to chip in your perspective as well

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hishumanbelle · 3 months ago

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@starweaversguidetothehazbinhotel I had a little fun 😂

SECOND ACT:

It started with a pan. A stupid, insignificant pan.

Lucifer had washed it. Scrubbed it clean, like some self-important monarch of dishwashing. And in doing so, he had committed the single greatest crime known to Hell’s culinary scene—he had stripped Alastor’s beloved, perfectly seasoned cast iron of its soul.

And so, Alastor—grinning like a lunatic but seething with the fury of a thousand betrayed chefs—declared war.

“I am officially on strike,” he announced, hands on his hips. “Not a single soul in this miserable hotel shall taste my cooking again until I receive a proper apology.”

The initial reaction was… unimpressive.

“Oh no, whatever shall we do?” Lucifer droned, swirling his wine glass with supreme indifference. “However will we go on without the almighty deer’s mediocre Jambalaya?”

Alastor gasped, clutching his chest. “Mediocre? Mediocre?!”

Charlie placed a calming hand on his shoulder. “Alastor, maybe—”

“No, no! Let him dig his grave, darling! I’m sure after three weeks of cold sandwiches and instant coffee, he’ll be sobbing into my apron!”

Lucifer raised a single, elegant brow.

“Try me.”

And so, the Great Hunger began.

Week One: The Denial Phase

The first few days were amusing.

“Guys, it’s fine,” Vaggie had said, chewing on a sad, dry piece of toast. “We’re adults. We don’t need some Overlord playing housewife for us.”

Husk, dead-eyed and cradling a cup of lukewarm instant coffee, muttered, “Speak for yourself.”

Still, spirits remained high. Cold sandwiches were survivable. Takeout was an option. The vending machine had supplies.

Surely, surely, Alastor would cave first.

Week Two: The Bargaining Begins

He did not cave.

Charlie approached him first, wide-eyed and desperate. “Al, buddy, pal—maybe just a little something? A snack?”

Alastor smirked, sipping his perfectly brewed tea. “Oh, I have plenty to eat, dearie! I made a wonderful steak last night. The seasoning was divine.”

Charlie’s eye twitched. “I will start crying.”

Angel Dust tried next. “Smiles, please. Just one meal.” He tugged at Alastor’s sleeve, batting his lashes dramatically, “I’ll do anything,” he winked at him.

Alastor patted his cheek. “That’s sweet, Spider! But unless ‘anything’ includes Lucifer groveling at my feet, I’m afraid you’ll have to get used to prison rations.”

By the end of the second week, Husk—who had been reduced to drinking black-market demon energy drinks—slammed a fist on the bar. “Just apologize, you demonic bastard!”

Lucifer, lounging in his chair, smirked. “Oh please. This is just an elaborate tantrum. You’ll all be fine.”

A fork was thrown at his head. No one knew who did it.

Week Three: The Breaking Point

Things were bad.

Charlie had started eating dry cereal. Angel was losing weight. Husk was seeing sounds. Vaggie’s eye had developed a permanent twitch.

Then… it happened.

Angel Dust tried to cook.

The incident was never spoken of again.

The fire alarm melted. The kitchen had to be exorcised. The smell haunted them for days.

“I—” Vaggie’s voice cracked. “I watched something unspeakable come out of that oven.”

Charlie, staring blankly into the abyss, whispered, “the pancake… moved.”

Alastor had never looked so pleased.

Lucifer, finally feeling the heat (metaphorically and literally), exhaled through his nose. “Alright. Fine. I’ll talk to him.”

Day 24: The Concession

Lucifer entered the lounge with the kind of energy one had before committing a capital offense.

Alastor, seated elegantly, stirred his tea. “Well, well, well! Look who’s finally realized he needs me!”

Lucifer’s lips curled. “I don’t need you.”

Alastor grinned wider. “Tell that to your starving family.”

Lucifer’s eye twitched. “What do you want?”

Alastor tapped a finger to his chin. “Hmm. Let’s start with a proper apology.”

Lucifer inhaled deeply, the air vibrating with barely contained wrath.

“… I am sorry.”

Alastor gasped, clutching his pearls. “Oh, my! Was that an apology? And here I thought KINGS weren’t capable of remorse!”

Lucifer’s patience was hanging by a thread. “Alastor.”

Alastor leaned forward, resting his chin in his palm. “Say it like you mean it.”

Lucifer’s nostrils flared. He took a very slow breath. “I am sorry… for washing your stupid pan.”

Alastor beamed. “That’s better! And what have we learned?”

Lucifer’s hands flexed, visibly restraining themselves from wrapping around Alastor’s throat. “That you are the pettiest, most insufferable demon in all of Hell.”

Alastor clapped. “And don’t you forget it! Now, I suppose I could whip up something quick.”

Thirty minutes later, the scent of actual food filled the hotel once more. The residents wept. Charlie nearly proposed to Alastor on the spot. Husk kissed his coffee.

The Hunger Crisis had ended.

And Lucifer?

Lucifer never entered the kitchen again (maybe?).

You recently posted asking for Alastor-centered story request. I had a dumb one.

But I would love for Alastor and Lucifer to get fight because Lucifer carelessly put Alastor’s good knives and cast iron into the dishwasher. (A crime!)

It doesn’t matter if they are enemies or lovers. I just wanna see Al freak out because someone ruined the seasoning on his skillets.

I tried to make it sarcastic and sour. 😂

It didn't come out too well, haha!

Alastor had been in a good mood. Had been.

He had been whistling, for Hell’s sake.

Then he walked into the kitchen and saw it.

His skillet.

His beautiful, seasoned to perfection, beloved cast iron… sitting in the dishwasher.

Alastor’s eye twitched. The room went silent, save for the rising static in the air. His hands clenched at his sides as if he were actively stopping himself from committing the first ever kitchen-based homicide in Hell.

Lucifer, lounging at the counter with a wine glass and the smug air of someone who had never worked for a single thing in his long, immortal life, barely glanced up.

“Oh, you’re back,” he said lazily. “I took the liberty of cleaning up your mess.”

Alastor did not immediately respond. He was too busy grieving. He reached out, trembling, and plucked the skillet from the dishwasher. It was—horrors of horrors—gray. Lifeless. It looked like it had never seen a single properly seared steak in its miserable, water-logged existence.

His fingers twitched violently. “Lucifer.”

“Hm?”

“Did you… wash my cast iron skillet?”

Lucifer smirked, swirling his wine.

“I cleaned it. You should be thanking me.”

Alastor let out a sharp, strangled laugh. The sound was wrong. It was the sound of a man unraveling at the seams.

“Cleaned it, you say,” he murmured. “Cleaned it.”

His gaze flickered downward—and oh no, oh no no no.

His knives. His good knives.

Sitting in the utensil rack of the dishwasher like common peasant cutlery.

Alastor’s breath hitched. He grabbed one, turning it over with trembling hands. The blade was ruined—dulled, scratched, abused in ways that not even the depths of Hell could justify.

Lucifer, oblivious or perhaps just cruel, yawned. “What? It’s just a pan.”

That did it.

Alastor let out an inhuman screech. A real, full-body, full-volume, someone-is-going-to-die-today screech.

“JUST A PAN? JUST A PAN?!”, his voice rattled the walls, cracked the tiles, and probably sent lesser demons into cardiac arrest across the building.

“DO YOU THINK THE MONA LISA IS JUST A PAINTING? DO YOU THINK OPERA IS JUST NOISE? DO YOU THINK—", he gasped theatrically, clutching his chest as if mortally wounded. “DO YOU THINK RADIO IS JUST STATIC?!”

Lucifer stared at him, unimpressed.

“I think you need a nap.”

Alastor seethed. The lightbulbs flickered ominously. He wanted to murder Lucifer. He needed to. But even he knew the politics of killing the literal King of Hell were… dicey.

So he did the next best thing.

With a snap of his fingers, Lucifer was gone.

Specifically, he was now outside the penthouse, standing in the middle of a Hellstorm, where fire rained down like particularly aggressive confetti.

Alastor dusted his hands off and muttered, “Crime and punishment,” before turning back to mourn his skillet.

From outside, muffled through the walls, Lucifer’s voice carried:

“I HOPE YOU CHOKE ON YOUR NEXT MEAL, YOU OVERGROWN GRAMOPHONE.”

Alastor sniffed. “Not likely,” he muttered. “I’ll be cooking it on your corpse.”

And with that, he set off to completely ruin Lucifer’s wine collection.

Hell hath no fury like a chef properly wronged.

#alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor radio demon #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel ask blog #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel alastor #charlie morningstar #charlie hazbin hotel #hazbin vaggie #hazbin angel dust #angel dust #hazbin hotel husk #husk #lucifer x alastor #lucifer hazbin hotel #alastor and lucifer #headcanon

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llyncooljones · 2 years ago

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mine or yours? - twelve days of rowaelin '22.

ao3 || masterlist || twelve days of rowaelin ‘22 masterlist

prompt: first holiday season together.

word count: 1928

trigger warnings: language, allusions to abuse

tag list: @live-the-fangirl-life @rowaelinismyotp @rowaelinscourt @fireheartwhitethorn4ever @elentiyawhitethorn @rowanaelinn @autumnbabylon @leiawritesstories @backtobl4ck @letstakethedawn

aelin's apartment, the morning

It was a loud and hellacious day at Aelin’s apartment. Rowan had woken there after spending the previous night in her bed, doing the kind of unspeakable things to her, that he liked to speak to her about. In public, mainly. Often with their friends around, in hearing range.

The day had begun gorgeously, he’d woken up his girlfriend with another welcomed orgasm (the seventh in a span of roughly twelve hours), and then had got to putting the coffee on, and starting breakfast, whilst she had hopped into the shower, washing off their debauchery.

Nine months into their relationship, he knew the layout of her kitchen perfectly, reaching into cupboards and drawers like it was second nature. Which maybe it was, given that first nature would have been reaching into his apartment’s cupboards and drawers.

His girlfriend had emerged from the bathroom, in a cloud of lemony steam, her hair damp and dripping on the floor, even when swept up into a braid. He had to hold himself still, so as to not run to her and just breathe her in. Keep her in his lungs and breath out, get high off her. she had wrapped herself tightly in a dressing gown, and made her way to the breakfast bar, sat and drank coffee with him, sat and ate a breakfast of thick, American-style pancakes with him, had them broached the subject of Christmas with him.

That was when the morning turned loud and hellacious. Because Rowan assumed they would be spending the Christmas season with his parents, because they lived on the other side of the ocean, and Aelin had yet to meet them. Because he saw Rhoe and Evalin every time he went to the corner shop for a late-night condom run—so he saw them enough, and they saw him enough—he didn’t need to see them anymore.

It had seemed logical to him, that it was what they would do. Rowan loved Christmas with his parents because it wasn’t just his parents and his family—it was the House of Whitethorn family Christmas. It was extravagant and it was perfect, and he could not wait to show his girlfriend the traditions of Doranelle.

She had thought they would go to her parents because they were closer, and Aelin knew them better, and Rhoe and Evalin didn’t have a big, happy family to surround themselves with so they needed their daughter to be with them for the holiday season.

And now here they were, cold coffee mugs on the island, slowly making their way through the apartment, voices raising and lowering, fury in their eyes but love in their hearts. Rowan knew that it all came from a place of love, Aelin’s need to be with her parents, but he couldn’t help but feel like an afterthought when it all came down to it, couldn’t help but feel that his girlfriend—the woman he loved—had forgotten about him, and his wants and needs and preferences.

And he hated that feeling. It sank like lead in his stomach and refused to move.

“You had better be high to even suggest something like that to me—”

“—how dare you accuse me of something like that, you know I don’t do drugs, Aelin. Well… not anymore but that is bes—”

“—stop interrupting me, Rowan Whitethorn. The disrespect, honestly. And what is the good gods’ does ‘well… not anymore’ mean?” her tone was shrill, and it was enough to signal to Rowan that he needed to stop doing, whatever it was he was doing. Undermining her? Ruining her image of Christmas?

Distracting her as he pulled the bottom of his shirt up to wipe at his forehead? For no other reason than to prove to himself (and hopefully his girlfriend) that he could still be attractive to her when they were arguing. Instead of persisting on his quest, he turned his attention back to their argument and rebutted against Aelin’s statement—patronisingly and horribly.

“Nothing untoward, dear, it’s just been since college since I’ve dabbled in that particular area. But again, I am not high. It is perfectly reasonable to suggest that we spend Christmas at my parent's.” Y’know, he wanted to add, the ones I haven’t seen in nearly two years, the parents who raised me and loved and turned me into the man you love. Those parents, Aelin.

“Have you never spoken to anyone with two brain cells to rub together, everyone knows that you spend Christmas with the mum’s parents. Certainly not the dad’s parents, no siree.” Her voice, again, was this over-the-top, theatre-like voice. It was cruel and callous, and he could not stand it.

This wasn’t Aelin, this was an amalgamation of all her fears and traumas and doubts about their relationship wound into one, big ball of angst. He wanted to help her unravel it, sit by her side and talk things out, and he did. He really, truly did.

But he couldn’t, not when she was being ridiculous, they’d been together nine months and she was thinking about five years into the future—at least—and trying to reason it like that. And on top of that, her argument had no relevance to their current position, where neither was a parent, but they both had parents.

“The fuck are you talking about, mum’s and dad’s parents, we’ve barely been together nine months, and we’re nowhere near thinking about kids.” Now Rowan was lying, but he could hardly confess in the middle of the argument that he’d been having dreams about blonde babies with green eyes, looking up at him from his arms.

That was hardly the kind of thing you told your girlfriend when you were having a fight. It wouldn’t be right. No, it wouldn’t.

“Nowhere near thing about kids, the fuck do you mean? You had better be joking this time around, Rowan Whitethorn. Have you not even thought about our future as a couple.” Of course, he had, of course! How could he not think about being down on one knee, waiting at the end of the aisle, sat in a hospital chair holding her hand as she pushed, welcoming their first child into their home?

“Not to the extent of kids, no,” yes to the extent of kids, obviously to the extent of kids—Rowan could kick himself for the way he was acting, “I kind of figured we’d sit down and have that chat at a later date. Start considering larger things, when this relationship is a little larger than nine months of good times.” Fuck, that did not come out the way he wanted it to.

He hadn’t meant good times, as in hey, you were a great lay, but I won’t cry in bed when we break up. He had meant good times, as in you have been the greatest thing to ever happen to me, these have been the best nine months of my life, and you are a great lay, but I definitely will cry in bed when we break up.

“Nine months of good times! Nine months of fucking good times! Are you fucking kidding me? I know you weren’t raised in a cattle shed, nor born in one, so don’t act so fucking idiotic. I know you’ve got brain cells, use them during this discussion.”

With that closing statement, Rowan watched as his girlfriend stormed away from him, flinging the cushion she’d been kneading—during their ‘discussion’ as she had called it—at his head, and finally slammed the door to her bedroom closed.

The cushion hit, not two seconds later, and landed then on the floor with a sad deflated thwump. He felt the same way, like he’d been trampled on, but either way, Aelin seemed to be taking this the hardest out of the both of them. So, he began work on his apology, and thought a little deeper as to where he went wrong in that discussion.

He had gone wrong everywhere except for asking to spend Christmas in Doranelle, because that was fair of him. It was perfectly fucking fair of him, to want to see two of the most important people in his life, at Christmas, when he hadn’t seen them in nearly two years. He wouldn’t apologise for that. No way.

With the chocolate hazelnut cake Aelin had eaten half of last night under one arm, and the bottle of vodka they’d half drunk last night under the other, and his lips prepared to apologise like no one had ever apologised before, he made his way to the door his girlfriend had slammed. He knocked awkwardly with the base of the glass bottle and waited for Aelin to emerge—or even invite him.

The door opened a crack, and Rowan found himself looking down on half of her face, and even just half was enough to make him shove the door slightly so he could make his way in. In the—maximum five minutes, minimum 2 minutes—time it had taken him to collect his thoughts and his apology food, his girlfriend had cried so hard her eyes were swollen, her cheeks were wet—as were her jaw, chin, neck—and the neckline of his shirt (he had to restrain the urge to smile) was covered in darker green splotches.

Letting the door fall ajar behind him, he herded her up, and onto her bed. She swathed herself in the thick bedding, covering herself with the duvet and blankets before holding up an arm and creating a space. For him, he realised. With harried movements, he set the bottle and the plate on the nightstand he had claimed and snuggled under the covers with a certain eagerness.

Her blonde hair was quickly lain over her shoulders, as she dug herself a hole next to him, and moved his arms around her like he was her lifeline. Like, even though they were fighting she couldn’t stand to be away from him—she had to be as close as possible. At all times.

“Ro, I am so sorry. I should never, ever, ever speak to you like that. That was so rude of me, I’m—I’m honestly so ashamed of myself. I know that’s how Remelle treated you, and I can’t—” she choked on a sob, and Rowan rubbed a soothing hand down her back, letting her speak, because Rowan knew how much she hated to be interrupted, “I can’t believe I would treat you like that!”

Rowan’s heart gave out, in the warmth of the duvet, and with Aelin in his arms. His eyes stung as tears threatened to fall—but didn’t. “Aelin, don’t apologise. Please don’t. I shouldn’t have egged you on, I knew I was being ridiculous about some of the shit I was saying. It was rude of me, and I shouldn’t have made half of the comments I did.”

“Don’t say that Rowan—I was so horrible. And for what, because of some stupid trend, or stereotype? I mean, we see my parents every weekend, and you, you haven’t seen yours in two fucking years!” she turns to a wail, her eyes leaking tears, staining his t-shirt further.

“Aelin, love, it’s alright. Take a second, and we’ll chat later. Here, have a bite of the cake, and a drink of this, and then we’ll talk this through. Drunk, and even more full than we were after breakfast.”

And they spent all day chatting, laughing their heads off in bed, getting drunk off the good vodka Aelin saved for New Year’s.

#rowaelin #rowan whitethorn #aelin galathynius #tog #tog fic #throne of glass fic #throne of glass #twelve days of rowaelin #12 days of rowaelin #my fic #my writing #llyncooljones' writing

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alwaysahiccupandastrid · 3 years ago

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I’m writing my post about the second season of The Witcher as we speak and I’m only on episode 5, but I want to just take a moment to appreciate what a good person Jaskier is because I feel like that deserves it’s own post.

First of all, the fact he’s the Sandpiper and risking his own neck to help elves get to Cintra… he has no personal reason to, but he’s doing it because he knows it’s the right thing.

“Yennefer, I’m so sorry. I would not wish that fate on my worst enemy, and yes, you are… firmly lodged in that category, it has to be said, but… what they’ve done to you and your people is unspeakable” - he’s so empathetic, he doesn’t particularly like Yennefer but he’s able to put that aside because he recognizes that what is happening is something truly unspeakable and awful.

“But some people are speaking. There are anonymous benefactors working behind the scenes, helping me, helping us, helping us make this right.” - AGAIN, HOW CAN YALL SAY HES SELFISH AND AWFUL 😭 HE’S LITERALLY SUCH A WONDERFUL GUY

When that dock guard guy and the other guards were beating the shit out of Ba’lian, Jaskier looked so sad as he backed away, so regretful because he knew he couldn’t do anything, and it breaks my heart

Jaskier helping the elves down the ladder into the boat and softly saying “it’s all right, you’re safe, you’re safe, are you alright?” is just so soft and sweet. I don’t understand how people can watch this show and hate him, he’s such a good person who clearly cares about other people

When Dara said “thank you, we’d all be dead without you”, Jaskier was like “it’s lovely to meet you, Dara, I expect you to do great things” and just generally super nice???

After he found out Yen had lost her magic, he gave her this super long beautiful speech about how it’s his job to put himself in other people’s shoes, and he admitted that he was scared that one day “the muses will stop speaking to me” and he was just genuinely??? So??? Sympathetic?? They both acknowledged that he could very well have made fun of her and mocked her but instead he was so nice???

I’m so tired of seeing people claim Jaskier is this selfish idiot who doesn’t care about other people when he’s not that in the slightest. If he was, he wouldn’t have risked his own skin to help other people.

#this is just episode 4 btw there could be more later on but idk #this just stood out to me #jaskier #joey batey #the witcher #the witcher spoilers

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iveseenstrangerthings · 3 years ago

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stranger in a time of need (part 2) - a Steve Harrington imagine

This is a continuation to part 1, which you can find here. She/her pronouns. Some angst and a lil fluff.

warnings: mentions of loss and slight swearing.

word count: 2.1k

note: this is the second and last part to this imagine! I want to write something different next!!

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Steve

The drive wasn’t as awkward as he had anticipated. It was him, (y/n) and another guy who needed to go to the motel that evening. He tried to convince the guy to wait till the morning so Jude, the guy on the morning shift, would take him instead. He was trying to get some time alone, see if he could talk to her some more, but he felt things wouldn’t have been that different had it just been the two of them.

The motel was about 25 minutes out of Hawkins, the drive usually consisting of luscious green trees, some tall and thin with thick needles, and some small and stoat with low hanging branches and sometimes berries if it was the right season. But now, everywhere was unrecognisable. (y/n) sat in the front seat without Steve asking, he liked that though, for some reason.

His eyes were focussed on the road, nobody had yet said anything, and he was beginning to feel the silence getting heavy. As if the guy in the back read his mind, he said, “Never would I have thought I’d be on my way outta Hawkins with two young ones.” He finished his sentence off with a slight laugh out of his nose. Steve looked at him in the rear-view mirror, the guy was staring out of the window, not willing to contribute anything else. He was maybe in his fifties, but he looked good.

“I don’t think any of us thought we’d be in this situation, man.” Steve didn’t really know how to respond.

Out of nowhere, a small sniffle sounded, and Steve looked to his right, expecting to see (y/n) in the beginning stages of crying. However, she was dry-eyed and facing forward. Steve’s brows furrowed and he looked at the guy in the rear-view mirror. There he sat, painful sobs aching through his body. “I’m sorry man, I hate to get upset.” He took a deep breath in as if to steady himself. “I lost my Louise.” At the mention of who Steve assumed to be his partner, his sobs became more prominent. Again, Steve was left speechless. He still wasn’t accustomed to everyone’s overwhelming losses.

Reader

You turned your body around in the passenger seat, holding back the seatbelt so you could twist yourself fully around. “I’m so sorry for your loss.” Your voice was low and respectful, for the first time since you arrived at the centre, you felt close to someone through that unspeakable, but present bond.

“Losses.” He was quick to correct you, but not in an argumentative way. Just a matter-of-fact way.

Suddenly you felt the overwhelming urge to cry with him, but that would have been no use to anyone. You squeeze your lips together and give him a small nod. “Me too.”

For the remainder of the journey, the passengers were silent. There was nothing to say, nothing to small talk about, just the hum of the engine and the click-clack of the indicators was all to be heard. You almost wished it was raining, just to feel a slight enjoyment of something.

Steve

As he pulled into the motel, he recognised a few people he had dropped off the day before milling around out the front. As they looked up and recognised him too, he dropped his head slightly and gave them a sympathetic smile paired with a small wave. “Okay,” he started, turning off the ignition, “let’s go get you guys settled in.”

They bundled out of the car, and he locked it with a quick click of a button, not even looking to check it had successfully locked. The three of them walk into the small reception area which smelt musty and could’ve done with a good clean. Although that was the last thing on anyone’s to-do list. “Hey Mary,” he smiled to the wonderful lady behind the desk. No matter who walked through the door, she treat them with respect and dignity, knowing fine well what they have been through, whilst avoiding being condescending. Steve admired her way with people, a real Motherly figure. “We got (y/n) and…” shit, I really must start getting people’s names sooner, “I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name.”

The guy looks up awkwardly as if he was about to give away a secret piece of information, “It’s Stanley. But people call me Stan.”

“Well alright Mr Stan and Miss (y/n)”, Mary offers them both a warm smile and he can tell (y/n) really appreciates some ‘normal’ conversation. “I’m so glad you can both be with us here. Now, you both stay as long as you need, okay? Don’t go rushing off with no plans, now.” She looked at them both individually, waiting for them to acknowledge this gesture.

"Sure thing." (y/n) said.

“Yes Ma’am.” Stan replied happily.

“Good.” Mary beamed. “Okay, Stan,” she carefully hands over the room key, “this your room key right here, when you’re done you just hand it back over, or pop it in here if I’m not behind this desk,” she tapped the key return jar to draw Stan’s attention. Stan nodded gratefully. “And (y/n),” she passed the key over to (y/n), “there you go my dear, same to you.” Mary spoke with a comforting Southern accent which could soothe anyone.

(y/n) looks at Steve and then to Mary with a smile, “Thank you.” Mary returned the warm smile then made her way to the front of the desk, enveloping (y/n) in a hug which she so evidently needed. She pulled away and held (y/n) within arm’s length, “you need anything, anything at all, you call me. Okay sweetie?” And with that, (y/n) nods and Mary releases her gentle hold on her arms.

Reader

You were overwhelmed at the pure kindness that strangers had shown to you over the previous days. Mary puts the cherry on the cake, what a woman. You were left feeling warm inside, as if you had just arrived at your grandmother’s house and she had planted a fat kiss on your cheek. You would grimace, but you secretly loved it. Stan went with Mary as she showed him to his room, you were left with Steve to do the same. “You okay to show me where I go?” You asked him plainly.

He looked back at you, his face softening as if he had been holding it tense for a while, “Yes. Yes, of course. Just this way.” He started to head out of the front office, but stopped on the other side of the door, to allow you to catch up and walk alongside him. He stopped not too far from the main entrance. The door to your room was a soft shade of red, as if the sun had stolen its rich, original colour. A gold ‘7’ was stuck centrally onto the door, small signs of rust starting to form on the tips of the number. You forgot for a minute that you were holding the key, you fumbled around in your hands for the right shape and then slipped the key into the lock. The handle pulled down easily and the door was loud in opening, the draft stopper swooshing across the floor as you pushed it open. You had no bags to drop, no spare clothes, no shoes to kick off, no toothbrush. Nothing. Again, you were hit with the realisation that you had literally lost everything. It was as if Steve could read your mind as he walked you into the room, “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.” He offers a sincere, reassuring smile, with a soft touch on your back. “We can go back to the centre, pick out some clothes, whatever you need. I’ll do my best to get it for you.”

The gesture was sweet, he was sweet. His mannerisms, how he sometimes slipped up when he spoke, he seemed flustered around you, and he seemed genuine. Despite the circumstances, you liked it, you liked him. His energy was different, it was caring, and you appreciated that.

“That would be great, Steve. Thank you.” You return his smile, although your body suddenly felt overwhelmed with tiredness. The room had two single beds with what looked like very clean sheets. The room was spotless. From first impressions of the tired reception area, you didn’t have high hopes, however this room would do just fine. You wandered through to the bathroom, a typical motel style washroom was in front of you. A small sink with a clean towel, a toilet and a shower with a cheap dollar store shower curtain. It felt clinical, but who were you to be fussy. As you came back out of the washroom, Steve was still there, “I suppose it’ll do.” Your attempt at humour made Steve grin and shake his head slightly.

Steve

“Yeah, I’m sorry it’s nothing grand. The master suite with a shower and a bath was unfortunately booked.” That got another smile out of her. Before he could forget, he went through the usual spiel when he would check people in. “In the morning, you can get a hot breakfast out the front with coffee and stuff, then they do another meal on an evening. Also, if you need anything there’s usually someone comes back to the motel in the afternoon to bring you back to the centre. There you can try see if you can get some clothes or something.”

(y/n) nodded along to everything he was saying. He could tell she was worn out and completely emotionally drained. “So, that’s pretty much everything.” He filled in the silence that pursued with a fake check over of the room, as if there would be anything important missing. Really, he was just stalling. “So yeah, if that’s all good I’ll leave you to it, I’m sure I’ll see you tomorrow.” He pointed his thumbs in the direction of the closed door and turned around to leave.

Reader

“Wait,” You realised that this was something you would never do, you did not know him, at all. You had cried in front of him, and all your vulnerabilities lay out there for everyone to see. Previously, you would have thought that what you were going to say was ridiculous and needy. However, after the few days you had, you didn’t seem to care. Steve was stopped awkwardly, half turned ready to go. “Please, don’t leave.” Your voice stayed firm; you were worried it would quiver. Steve’s face turned slightly, and he looked slightly confused, a flash of concern quickly appears on his face, and you realised how stupid your request was. “I’m sorry if that is too forward. I mean it is. I know you probably won’t want to.” Just stop talking (y/n). “I just, I don’t really want to be alone.” And there it was.

“I’ll stay.” He replied with almost no hesitation that it took you by surprise. When you heard that reply, your tummy settled from the nervous flutters that were occurring and you felt okay. You smiled at him softly, as a thank you. “I’ll just crash here.” He said flopping down onto the bed nearest the curtains, to which he pulled slightly closed as he was resting his head behind his other arm. “Gets real light in here if you don’t close them.” He informed you.

You go into the bathroom and wash your mouth out with some water. You felt grim, dirty and you couldn’t wait to see if you could get a toothbrush and toothpaste tomorrow. The simple things you took for granted just days earlier you were missing so dearly. Turning the light off, you went back into the bedroom, not taking anything off other than your shoes. You pulled the cover back and lay down in the sheets, staring blankly up at the ceiling again.

Steve

Resting his head on his arms, he watched outside through the small crack in the curtains. There were still a few people milling about outside, not being too loud, just obviously catching up on the day’s events. It was dark out now, but thick clouds obscured any chance of looking at any stars that evening. Without the moon shining in through, it felt bleak with no natural light. He turned over on his side, looking over at (y/n) in the other bed. Again, she was staring blankly ahead, this time up at the ceiling. He cleared his throat, and this seemed to bring her back, she turned to face him. “If you can’t get what you need tomorrow at the centre, I’ll drive you into the nearest town, to a store and get you what you need. Okay?” He meant that.

She nodded, her eyes becoming heavier with every breath she took. “I can’t thank you enough for your kindness, Steve.” He moved himself back to his original position, still leaning on his arm.

“No need to thank me.” He whispered then; he could tell she was minutes from sleep. “I hope you get some rest; I’m not going anywhere.”

It took her a few seconds as her eyes were now closed and her head was nestled cosily on the pillow. “You promise?” She asks after a while, moving the covers closer up to her neck.

He smiled at her, knowing she wouldn’t have been able to see him, “I promise.”

#stranger things imagine #stranger things preferences #stranger things blurbs #stranger things imagines #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagines #fandom imagines #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x fem reader #imagines #my imagines

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sonnenreich · 9 months ago

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It was the first time that Zeev had attended a festivity that wasn’t organised by his family. The second harvest was approaching and with Mabon, Samhain was not too far away. The pumpkin patch and the beginning of autumn gave a first taste of the witcher's favourite season, despite summer being the closest to the sun. Not far from their cosy spot in the middle of the field, joyful voices rang out. Children carving crooked faces into pumpkins, couples examining handicrafts, families getting lost in a corn maze close by. The bliss of the festivities was reflected in Zeev’s mood and he didn't regret that Bonnie had invited him to accompany her.

“Well, I am not suggesting second degree murder,” he chuckled and watched the young woman examine the pumpkins. The sun seemed to have taken a particular liking to her hair, the red radiant and intense. It shone at least as much as her smile. “Depends really which book you are referring to, though.” He deliberately did not elaborate on his statement and merely smiled ambiguously.

Zeev pushed himself off from the fence and circled a few pumpkins in fluid motions, all unique in shape and size, and came to a halt next to her. The company of the witch managed to make him feel at home in some way. She was unlike his siblings, her magic fundamentally different, and yet she harboured the same attraction and presence that all witches possessed. The deeper connection to the omnipresent current of magic in everything around them. Bonnie, who was otherwise hard to beat in good nature, seemed interested in his suggestion that she might, for once, do something forbidden. Zeev himself would also describe himself as righteous, but every now and then a tendency towards mischief came over him.

He hummed at her suggestions, incidentally fixing one or two of her slightly wild and curly strands. “That does already sound like fun, thinking about it. Isn’t there this Irish tale of Jack O'Lantern? Imagine the faces of people if they saw a guy with a pumpkin head.” He smirked, but knew that a spell like this was beyond his abilities. “A spooky one, are we? Those Scarecrows might actually even scare me,” he laughed. “But perhaps a little scare now and then isn’t the worst thing. However, I’d like to be the one doing the scare instead of being the victim. Heard some visitors being disappointed in the attractions inside the labyrinth. How about we turn it a bit more interesting? I’m really good at creating illusions. Nothing is easier to manipulate than the human mind.”

Spells that influenced perception were unspeakably simple. The human imagination did most of the work, all it needed was a little nudge in the right direction.

"If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun."

Bonnie stood in the middle of the pumpkin patch, the sun dipping low in the sky, casting a warm golden hue over the rolling fields. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of woodsmoke and the distant laughter of children running through the nearby corn maze. A few leaves, the color of burnt sienna and amber, fluttered down from the trees, settling into the soft earth at her feet. She had just been admiring the symmetry of a particularly large pumpkin, its orange skin smooth and perfect, when Zeev’s voice cut through the quiet hum of the evening.

“If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun” he said, his tone laced with that signature mix of charm and mischief that Bonnie had come to expect from him.

She turned to face him, a playful smirk forming on her lips. Zeev was leaning casually against a weathered wooden fence, the setting sun casting long shadows that danced around him. The golden light of the late afternoon sun caught the strands of his blonde hair, making him look almost ethereal against the backdrop of the autumn landscape.

Bonnie couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound blending with the rustling of the leaves. “Is that so?” she replied, tilting her head slightly, her curiosity piqued. “And here I thought you were the type to play by the book.”

She knew, of course, that Zeev was anything but predictable. From the moment they had met, there had been something about him, something wild and free, like the wind that swept through the trees, stirring up everything in its path. Bonnie had always been a bit more cautious, her nature leaning towards the careful and the planned. But standing there, with the vibrant colors of autumn swirling around them and Zeev’s grin promising an adventure, she felt a spark of excitement flicker within her.

She took a moment to take in their surroundings, the pumpkin patch sprawling out around them, dotted with bright orange pumpkins of all shapes and sizes. In the distance, the festival was in full swing, the sounds of cheerful music and the clinking of glasses filling the air. There was something magical about this time of year, something that made the ordinary seem extraordinary, and Zeev’s words only added to that feeling.

“Well” she began, her voice softening into a conspiratorial whisper, “if I were to consider breaking a rule or two, what exactly did you have in mind?” Her eyes sparkled with amusement as she playfully tapped her chin. “Perhaps some pumpkin carving with a bit of enchanted flair? Or sneaking into the festival grounds after hours to see if those scarecrows really do come to life at midnight?”

The idea of bending the rules, even just a little, sent a thrill through her. She wasn’t used to stepping outside of her comfort zone, but there was something about Zeev that made her want to throw caution to the wind. It was as if the very air around them was charged with possibility, the kind that only came around once in a while, and only if you were brave enough to reach out and seize it.

She took a step closer to Zeev, her amber eyes locking with his, the challenge clear in her gaze. “Alright, Zeev” she said, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Show me what ‘fun’ really looks like. But just so you know, if we get caught, I’m blaming it all on you.”

Her words hung in the air between them, lighthearted yet tinged with the excitement of the unknown. Bonnie felt a shiver of anticipation, the cool autumn breeze lifting her hair as if in agreement. She knew she was stepping into something unpredictable, but with Zeev by her side, that unpredictability seemed less like a risk and more like an adventure waiting to unfold.

#*✹˰ ʾ answers . ʿ but you need your rotten heart; your dazzling pain like diamond rings.#firebrnd #( how to create a mass panic 101 )

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mentalpolaroids · 4 years ago

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flufftober - day 16

Falling Asleep Together

Rudy Pankow x female!Reader

flufftober 2021 masterlist

The actors that played the Pogues had just wrapped their scenes for the day. It was becoming dark and the directors wanted to continue and shoot some night scenes with the Kooks, dismissing the other cast members.

Rudy had joined (y/n) for a snack trip before going to their trailers and get changed into their own clothes, intending to get comfy, meet Chase, Madison and JD and potentially go and try to watch their fellow friends shoot their scenes.

“Housekeeping!” a knock on her door was followed by the famous line, letting her know who the person behind it was without even needing to ask.

“Coming, Pankow!” she answered, finishing pulling down her hoodie. Or was it his? she asked herself.

(y/n) remembered her first day on the table reading, she and Rudy showed up wearing equal hoodies and their first interaction was pointing at each other while laughing. They bonded very quickly, and when the cast went to have dinner that night it felt like the two had known each other for years. They had been partners in crime ever since and would often joke about how they always manage to wear the same hoodie at the same time, even mixing it a few times, and if it wasn’t for his characteristic cologne and her favorite perfume, they probably wouldn’t even notice. What people didn’t know was that most of the time, when that happened, they wouldn’t switch hoodies, for an unspeakable reason between the two they enjoyed having the wrong piece of clothing, that felt more right than anything.

(y/n) opened the door of her trailer and stepped outside, too busy tying her hair in a bun to notice Rudy’s oh so familiar outfit.

“Again?” she exasperated, chuckling.

“Wow.” he laughed too while bringing the collar up to his nose and giving the fabric a sniff, “At this point I can’t even tell if this is mine or yours.”

She did the same to try and solve the mystery but the boy stepped closer and leaned down over her collarbone, distracting her from her goal. He sniffed the hoodie and stepped aside almost as quickly

“Ok, no, yup, that one is definitely mine.” he tugged at her sleeve while she was still trying to process how close she felt him a few seconds prior.

“Wanna switch?” she finally got herself to think straight.

“Nah. Unless you do?”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Shall we go then?” he asked, with a british accent and then bent his arm so she could cross hers with it.

“We shall, mister.”

The scene about to be filmed was inside the Cameron’s house, which was a delight for Rudy and (y/n) because they could sit and chill on one of the couches in the back that was discarded in the beginning of filming that season and that no one had bothered to move it yet.

“Where are the others?” she asked, as she sat down, followed by Rudy.

“I don’t know, they said they would meet us here.”

“JD’s probably at craft services.”

The boy laughed.

“Oh for sure.”

They watched the crew get the set ready as they talked with Drew and Charles that had approached them while they waited for their time to shoot, and when that time finally arrived, the set fell into silence aside from the actors who were now in action. It was a tough scene, it was noticeable they would take a long time to get it.

Almost an hour and half had passed when (y/n) started to feel her eyelids getting heavy and her brain was having trouble processing the things happening around her from how tired it was. During that time, Rudy and her had made themselves as comfortable as possible on the couch, that usually meant getting close and cozy, leaning against each other. It wasn’t an unusual thing to catch the two snuggling together, but it never became less amusing nor heartwarming for their friends to witness. It was no secret that Rudy and (y/n) were the tightest pair of the whole group but it was almost painful to see how they were so oblivious to how their friendship was seen from outside. No one could look at them and not say they didn’t at least have a crush on each other, there was just no way they could at one another the way they did and have no deeper feelings there. It seemed the two were the only ones who were blind to that and the cast was constantly trying to make them open their eyes.

(y/n)’s head ended up falling on Rudy’s shoulder, slightly drifting into his chest. Rudy was pretty tired too and his sleepiness was closer than he had planned, so he didn’t bother to move, only got more comfortable and moved his arm to wrap it around the girl, who was already breathing deeply.

The two were found completely whipped out and cuddling by the late cast members.

“I’m gonna throw up, this is too cute for me to handle.” Madison commented hushly, looking at them with loving eyes.

“Take a picture.”

“Beat you to it.” Madelyn answered JD, her phone capturing multiple pictures of the sleeping bodies on the couch.

They tried to ignore their friends, even though their brains were way too tired to even retain any conversation they could hear. They were more focused on the warmth they were providing each other and how their scents would for sure get confused, then more than ever, when trying to figure out which hoodie was whom.

#flufftober2021 #outer banks #obx #rudy pankow #rudy pankow x y/n #rudy pankow x reader

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itsallmightbitch · 4 years ago

Text

Hell Week

Where have I been you ask? Recovering from the moment I found out that All Might’s middle finger is 6.2 inches long- that’s where. Jesus Lord I haven’t stopped sweating since.

Pairing: All Might/Toshinori Yagi x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Choking, Daddy kink, slight Praise kink and semi-public sex. Minors- even though I can’t make you not interact- I can come to your house and tell your mother and I want you to picture how that interaction would go down. I’ll show her your browser history I swear to God-

Word Count: 11,000+

Summary: Exam season had finally rolled around at U.A. and had been lovingly dubbed Hell Week by every long suffering member of staff there. All Might didn’t think it would be that bad- until it starts to get in the way of him doing one of his favourite activities.

Namely you.

*as always, the gif isn’t mine but is oddly appropriate for the story O_O

You hated Hell Week but then... so did everyone.

Those were the first thoughts you had when you stepped into the lecture hall on a sunny Monday morning. Desks upon desks, lined in neat rows, filled the room from front to back- each one with it’s own face down paper on top.

It was exam season. It was exactly like flu season but with far more suffering.

There was however, one very faint light at the end of the tunnel and it was the only reason you weren’t hopping a plane to some far away country and hiding there until this was all over. All Might, the big lovable dork, had zero idea of what was about to hit him. He’d only been teaching at UA for just under a year- missing the last exam season but just in time for this one.

He’d been fucking you just a little bit longer than that but in all the time you’d been seeing him, you’d never brought up just how horrible it was.

By the time you made it across the room, the door was opening again and sure enough, All Might ducked under the doorway to the lecture hall looking far more put together than he had when you’d left him that morning. You hadn’t had the heart to wake him as he’d sprawled out across your bed- his skinny frame taking up just as much room as his muscular one did.

He was such a bed hog, you thought, a smile tugging at your lips.

Looking far too cheerful for this time of the morning- and clearly oblivious about what was to come- he slipped through the desks and headed straight for you. Even though his eagerness to see you made your heart thump harder in your chest, you couldn’t stop the snort of laughter that escaped either.

He was simply awful at hiding your relationship. The only reason you hadn’t been outed to the whole school yet was because you were a little more restrained than he was.

Well... that and you told Hizashi to stop fucking prying into your business with such heat in your voice that anyone within earshot had decided to comply too and had left you both alone.

Still, the fact that Toshinori couldn’t seem to help himself, couldn’t stop himself being near you all the time… it brought to life the butterflies that had made a permanent home in your stomach. So much for it being just sex.

That had gone out of the window long ago.

“Good morning,” he rumbled, finally next to you and you grinned up at him affectionately. His tie was crooked- the only indication that he’d woken up a little too late for comfort and slept through the alarm you’d set before you’d left for work. Glancing around, you found that you were alone with him and so you reached up, straightening the knot and smoothing the material flat against his solid chest.

“Hi,” you answered at long last and it was the only thing you had time to say before his lips found yours for a kiss.

You melted into it. There hadn’t really been much time for kisses lately. Between hero work and exam week prep, you’d both been exhausted and the only reason he’d even stayed over the night before was because he’d graciously offered to help you mark homework and lighten the load. You’d fallen into bed and slept deeply without even a thought of doing anything else- which was admittedly unusual for you both. Despite long work days and how tired his injury made him, Toshinori was insatiable when it came to you.

Not that you were bragging or anything but… well. Look at him. You were goddamn blessed.

“I missed you this morning,” he said, pulling back and looking down at you with those deep, pretty eyes of his. A shiver of lust made it’s way through you and you were suddenly sorry you hadn’t gone through with your plan to wake him up before you’d left. He’d just looked so damn sweet with his face buried in your pillow, snoring softly, that you’d decided to leave him be.

You graced him with a winning smile.

“Didn’t want to disturb you,” you said, glancing towards the double doors at the back of the room. You could hear footsteps approaching and you knew he could too, by the way his eyes followed your line of sight seconds later. “You looked like you needed the sleep, baby.”

He flashed you a grin, his eyebrows raising in an expression you knew all too well. All Might was horny and he wasn’t afraid to let you know about it- despite the sounds of other people getting ever closer. Arousal made your stomach dip low and you shivered involuntarily.

A big, warm hand curled around your waist and you were suddenly tugged closer until you were plastered against him, your hands pressing flat on his hard chest.

Oh yeah, you thought smugly.

This man was hot for you and your eyes mindlessly followed the path his tongue took over his teeth, coming to a stop on the point of his canine. The hand that was on your waist slid lower, to the small of your back and then across the curve of your ass until his fingers slipped ever so lightly to press between your legs.

The noise you made was highly inappropriate for the workplace but fuck, when he acted like this it drove you to the point of losing any inhibitions you would normally have.

“I’ll make it up to you tonight, sweetheart,” he said, his voice lowering to that timbre that had talked you into doing absolutely unspeakable things with only a few, encouraging words. “As many times as you want, for as long as you want.”

You bit your lip, a grin threatening to break through.

“Oh Toshi,” you cooed, patting his chest sympathetically. He was absolutely oblivious to the horror that was about to hit him square in the face.

The doors at the top of the auditorium slammed open with a metallic thunk and within seconds you had escaped his grasp to stand at an appropriate distance, laughing inwardly at his puppy dog head tilt. His thick eyebrow quirked in question and you shot him one last pitying look. “You have no idea what you’re in for this week, do you?”

You almost felt guilty for not elaborating and you had no doubt that he’d get revenge on you in some way, shape or form in the coming months. But for now you left it vague- left him looking confused but unable to question you as Aizawa and Nemuri approached with a line of sullen looking teenagers behind them.

He wouldn’t have the time or energy to breathe this week, let alone do anything remotely athletic in the bedroom.

It wasn’t called Hell Week for nothing.

It was Wednesday. You were tantalizingly close to the end of the week but also far too far away from it.

Brushing against Toshinori while you passed each other in the aisle- supposedly observing the students as they scribbled away- was the most action either of you had gotten for days now. You didn’t know if he was doing it on purpose exactly, but the big jerk made it a point to touch you every time. Brushing his hand against yours. A palm on the small of your back as he gave way and let you through- so gentlemanly to any observer but the tension in his touch was a dead giveaway.

The way his eyes darkened and he exhaled impatiently through his nose, almost as though if he opened his mouth he would say something entirely inappropriate. He wasn’t being chivalrous in his head in the least.

He was thinking about fucking you and hard.

It eventually got to the point that you couldn’t resist.

Teasing him was just in your nature and every little innocent touch as your bodies passed so close was driving you insane. So as you passed him by at the back of the room, as far away from prying ears as possible, you whispered-

“I’m so fucking wet for you right now.”

- so softly that it could have been nothing at all. He heard you just fine though and you felt his whole body tense like he was being electrocuted.

You carried on, grinning to yourself smugly as you did and all the while Toshinori stood like a statue- eyes wide and lips parted like he couldn’t quite believe what he’d just heard come out of your mouth. He glanced back at your retreating form, his tongue pressing hard against the inside of his cheek.

Oh yeah, you had royally pissed him off.

And turned him on.

Terribly proud of yourself, you went back to being an excellent teacher and leaned over to help an impatient Bakugo- who had run out of paper for his final question and by the looks of it, fucks to give too. Honestly, same.

It took a couple of minutes for you to grab some extra paper at the front of the room and reassure the kid that his answer was on the right track, as vaguely as possible of course- so by the time you were about to make another pass of your boyfriend, you’d almost forgotten what you had said the last time.

He clearly hadn’t.

“Phone.”

That was all he said as he passed you, his lips quirking at the corner and by the time you were at the front of the room with your back away from prying eyes, you were itching to know what he’d meant by that.

You hadn’t felt your phone buzz in your pocket- although you had been distracted up until now and it was likely it had gone off without you noticing. Although you also hadn’t seen Toshi with his phone out either, unless he was being extra sneaky.

Which at this point, you wouldn’t put past him.

Sure enough, there it was on your screen. A message notification from ‘The Big Guy’. You smiled and despite your better judgement, you opened it in front of fifty or so quiet, focused students. After all, what could it possibly be other than maybe a little dirty response to what you’d whispered to him earlier?

When your joined chat opened at last, the noise you made wasn’t human. It caught in your throat and when a few of the kids looked up in confusion, you had to pass it off as a cough before they began to ask questions.

Questions like, why are you turning that shade of red? Or, why did you just make a noise like a dying swan?

All Might, that lovable, sweet, smiling number one hero, was leering at you from the back of the room- his grin absolutely filthy.

When you were satisfied that the kids were focused on their exams again, you stared at the picture he’d sent you, face flushing hot.

When the fuck had he even taken this?

The photo was taken from a very low angle, his expression in the background much like the one he was wearing right now as he watched you- except his cheeks were a little pinker. He was wearing his hero costume, reclining on what looked like the bed in his apartment with one hand gripping the headboard behind his head.

The picture of relaxation and innocence.

Except his outfit was splayed open and his cock was jutting out from it proudly. You could see the fucking precum beading on the head, all shiny in the low light and you were practically drooling over your phone when it buzzed again.

“Shit-” you hissed, jumping and almost dropping it. That would have been sensational. A picture of All Might’s cock sailing majestically across the floor for all the students to see.

You hurriedly scrolled down to read what he’d messaged you.

‘You looked a little flustered. Everything okay?’

The bastard had even attached a winking emoji to the end of the text and you were both pissed off that he’d gotten the better of you and impressed that he’d taken such a fucking great nude. Then had the courage to send it to you, whereas months ago he would have chickened out and complained about you seeing the scar across his side.

With embarrassingly shaky fingers you managed to type out a reply, not even able to stay mad.

‘Baby, no lie. You should wear every outfit like that’, you responded, chewing on your bottom lip in a vain attempt to keep the smile off your face. ‘Crime would drop to an all time fucking low’.

Carrying on your route again, you watched him from your peripheral as he innocently took his phone out to read your response, so nonchalant and cocky.

After a moment of reading, he barked a loud laugh that turned a few heads, before turning pink and muttering an apology to the students he’d just disturbed.

You nudged him playfully the next time you passed each other, winking at him and then feeling incredibly pleased with yourself when he grinned and shook his head- clearly enjoying the moment that had passed between you in full view of everyone.

But, despite the thrumming sexual tension that crackled between you both for the rest of the day, by the time you got home there was only half an hour in which to change into your hero outfits and stare longingly at each other before going your separate ways for the evening.

You were taking a fucking vacation this time next year and Nezu, the little sociopath, could pry your holiday hours from your cold, dead hands.

“On your knees. Now.”

Caught by surprise, you spun around in what you had thought was the empty auditorium- only to come face to chest with your very tall, very haggard looking boyfriend.

“Huh?” you said stupidly, because the request wasn’t quite what you’d been expecting him to say. Not that you’d expected anyone at all to still be wandering around when the weekend and sweet, sweet freedom was calling.

It was Friday and the last exam of Hell Week had finished an hour ago- a moment you’d both been looking forward to since the first set of exams had started. In fact, the way the other teachers had all but sprinted past the kids on the way out- you guessed that you and Toshi weren’t the only ones who had been willing this week to end.

Toshinori had quickly figured out that he was not in for an easy work week as he’d first thought and the mounting pressure of grading papers, comforting stressed teenagers at all hours of the day and attempting to not have a breakdown had taken it’s toll.

Every night, you’d both crawled into bed at some ungodly hour after midnight, exhausted from grading and the ever persistent hero work that took up a good chunk of your evenings. On top of all that, you knew Toshinori was still sneaking off every lunch time to get in a training session with Midoriya- and not eating anything the entire time either.

You’d begun to sneak Midoriya lunches to share with his mentor just to make sure your boyfriend was at least getting something through the day and not neglecting himself as he always did.

Then, you’d been over compensating with dinner and as a result had even less time to do anything remotely relating to a relationship.

The only time the two of you had been close this week was when you woke up extra early for cuddles and even they couldn’t last long when the alarm would start to blare.

All that and the pent up sexual tension meant that when Toshi told you to get on your knees with that ravenous look in his eye, your panties were soaking in seconds. However, there was still a little, itty bitty part of you with some common sense left at least and you glanced around the room before giving him a pointed look.

“Babe, I know this week has been rough but is this really a good idea? What if someone comes?”

You heard it the moment it left your lips and when you looked at his expression it was full of barely repressed mirth, his shoulders already shaking. He could be so immature sometimes. You rolled your eyes, despite your own smile spreading on your face.

“Shut up, you know what I mean.”

“You think anyone, student or teacher is going to want to look at this room again before Monday? The only reason I’m still in it is because all I’ve been thinking about, all day, is you sucking my cock sweetheart. I don’t think I can wait until we get home,” he rumbled in that deep, sexy baritone that he brought out whenever he wanted something from you.

The one you found it impossible to say no to.

His fingers trailed over your cheek and he took the moment of weakness in your resolve to swoop down and kiss you hard.

You’d barely even had a moment to kiss this week and so the second his mouth was on yours, common sense was tied up and gagged. Horny you was now in charge and fuck, your boyfriend was looking fine today.

It took no more persuasion for you to drop to your knees in front of him and when you looked up at him, impossibly tall as he was, his cheeks were pink and his eyes dark. He probably thought it would have taken a lot more persuasion than that but what could you say?

Getting dicked down in the school was on your bucket list anyway and right now you imagined that it was hastily being added to his as well.

“If anyone catches us, I’m leaving the country,” you muttered, taking another cursory glance around. This position was incriminating enough should someone walk in- and you weren’t even doing anything yet. Imagine the scandal if someone caught you blowing All Might- paragon of virtue and strength- in the middle of your workplace.

It was almost enough to make you stand back up again and put a stop to the whole thing but then he went and palmed the very obvious erection that was straining against the front of his pants and all you could suddenly think about was licking him from top to bottom.

“I won’t let anyone catch us,” he said reassuringly. He pointed to his ear as though you’d forgotten about the whole, excellent hearing thing. You snorted.

“Toshi, no offence but when we’re in the middle of sex a bomb could go off under the bed and you wouldn’t hear it.”

He looked momentarily offended before his expression dropped into a sheepish smile, one big hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. He knew you were right. Once he got into the zone there was no stopping him. It was kind of sweet, how intense he became. Even if you weren’t playing a game and just having some nice, lazy vanilla sex, he would get all possessive and serious and pull you in close to gaze into your eyes like it was the end of the world-

You only realized you had spaced out when he spoke again and you snapped back to reality with a rising flush on your face.

“Heh, I guess you’re right. But I promise, I won’t let anyone sneak up on us. You can count on me,” he beamed down at you and that promise alone was enough to make you relax and nod your consent.

His tongue swept over his bottom lip as the air in the room suddenly shifted, turning electric and leaving you both buzzing with the knowledge that you were about to do something very naughty.

Finding out that Toshinori was as kinky as you had been a bit of a shock at first. You’d expected him to be a the kind of guy who was insanely careful with his strength and as a result, gentle in bed. The sort of man who would whisper sweet words of encouragement to you and treat you like a princess the whole time.

While there were times he did just that, imagine your surprise one night when he’d grabbed the back of your neck and told you to be a good girl and suck his dick. Ever since then, it had been one wild ride with you never quite knowing what he was going to do next.

Afterwards, he’d quite shyly admitted that he’d never been entirely comfortable with letting anyone see that side of him.

So he’d kept it hidden just in case.

You nuzzled your nose against the straining bulge at the front of his pants, whining for him. Toshinori quirked an eyebrow at you, petting your head lazily.

“Look at you,” he murmured, sounding undone already. “You’re always so eager for Daddy’s cock, huh?”

It was no secret that it ruined you when he said things like that. Sweet, lovable All Might had an absolutely filthy mouth in bed and it turned you on every time he brought it out. His thick fingers trailed down your cheek, while his other hand slipped his loose tie from his neck with a snap.

“You know, everything you do turns me on,” he mused, his head cocked to one side as he stared down at you. His voice was like butter and you felt your thighs quiver. “It’s almost as though you know what you’re doing. Do you enjoy it? Knowing that all you have to do is look at me and I’m hard as a rock in seconds?”

You nodded, a little too eagerly.

“What are you gonna do about it, Daddy?” you breathed, excitedly. Because you already knew what he was going to do. A muscle in his jaw ticked

This week had royally sucked and there was only one thing that was going to improve it. His mouth quirked at the corner despite the stern demeanour he was aiming for. That mouth had done some damn fine things to you in the past and you didn’t doubt that it would keep going in the future.

A pleasant feeling of wetness spread slowly but steadily between your legs.

Your lips parted, soft puffs of breath warming the front of his pants. His cock was so close and you wanted it, wanted to take him into your mouth and give him a front row seat to just how much you enjoyed sucking him off.

In public no less.

“Hang on, sweetheart,” he soothed, noticing how impatient you were.

Suddenly, the soft silken material of his tie was being wrapped around your throat and knotted. He twisted the other end and wound it around his fist, giving an experimental tug.

When it tightened ever so slightly, you moaned. It was nowhere near tight enough yet but you could already imagine it digging in and making you choke. Fuck, being choked- controlled like this shouldn’t have sent sparks dashing across every nerve ending- but it did and you tugged back to tighten it a little bit more.

“Better?” he asked and you nodded eagerly, dying to get on with things. The material around your throat was just tight enough to remind you who was in control here and you looked up at him through your eyelashes, pressing an open mouthed kiss against the outline of his cock.

He grunted, pleased.

“Okay, you know the rules sweetheart. Red if you want to stop. Yellow if you need a second to breathe. Green if everything is fine. What’s our safe word?”

“Toshi,” you breathed, exasperated but not overly so. “I know the safe word. We’re on a time limit here baby.”

“Humour me,” was his firm, no nonsense answer and he gave you a look that meant he wasn’t messing around. He wanted to be sure that you knew it.

You nodded. You were both experienced enough now that he didn’t really need to repeat the rules every time but it was sweet that he did anyway. Usually he would go above and beyond to make sure you were comfortable when you played like this and despite being on something of a time limit, now was no exception.

It was also just one of the many reasons that the whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing had never worked out between you two. He was just too damn good to you.

Any limits you had tried to impose between each other had quickly dissolved until you were both forced to admit that you wanted more than just sex. Not that you were complaining at all.

A quick, forceful tug on your makeshift leash brought you back to reality and you finally laughed, “Okay, okay! Watermelon.”

It only took a little guffaw on his part to trigger more of your own dumb laughter.

You both giggled to yourselves at the absurdity behind that word- a shared story of absolute shame, embarrassment and too much tequila that must never be told again. Why he’d insisted on it being your safe word you would never know but it was clear by now that you had trouble saying no to him.

He beamed down at you, all starry eyed and you were well aware that you expression mirrored his. Still smiling like a lovesick idiot, you nuzzled against him, nosing at the zipper of his slacks and making an impatient noise.

In a split second, his eyes darkened like he suddenly remembered where you both were.

Auditorium.

U.A.

A very big possibility of getting caught doing something incredibly naughty. You sobered, partly because of the thrill of danger thrumming through your veins. Partly because the number one hero was staring down at you, tie in hand and looking like he wanted nothing more than to eat you whole.

“So,” he rumbled, voice like thunder in the sky, sounding miles away from his usual cheery self and more like a teacher about to dish out some serious punishment. “Are you going to keep me waiting? I’m getting impatient sweetheart.”

No, you thought hazily, feeling your knees tremble and your clit throb in time with your racing heart. You would definitely have to do something about that. So you shook your head enthusiastically.

“Good girl,” he praised and you immediately felt a headrush, your fingers clenching tightly in the material of his slacks. “Now, take Daddy’s cock out for him,” he said and the words left no room for argument. Hah. Like you even would. Trailing your fingers across the front of his zipper, you were more than happy to do as he asked.

You undid the button with shaking fingers and then down came the zip, bit by bit until you could push both sides wide apart. Dipping your hand into his now open pants, you felt his gaze boring into the top of your head- intense and heated as he watched you do as he said. At last, you wrapped your hand around the thick shaft of his cock and tugged him out. He hissed softly as it met the cool air of the room.

All you could think was finally.

He was just centimetres away from your face, all thick and solid- the tip leaking beads of precum that drooled down to where your fingers were on him. You wanted to lick them up, taste him on your tongue but you didn’t dare move because he hadn’t told you to yet.

“Do you want something, sweetheart?” he asked and you felt sudden relief that this wasn’t about to go to waste.

“Can I lick you? Please,” you managed to say through heavy breaths and a groan caught in his chest. He wasn’t exactly immune to dirty talk and he’d admitted to you once that hearing you talk like that made him hard. Honestly, you didn’t think he could get any harder.

You could feel the thrum of his blood pumping, making his cock pulse in your hand.

He gripped himself at the base and you let go, albeit reluctantly, when he tugged on his tie. Moving himself forward a little, he rubbed the head across your lips and you desperately wanted to open up and take him in but you refrained.

“Mouth open. Tongue out,” he said, his voice strained and you obeyed.

Red flushed across your cheeks when his gaze trailed over your face and he groaned, fist tightening around the tie in his hand. He rested the head of his cock on your tongue for just a moment, watching the precum continue to bead out- sliding down into your mouth now instead of being wasted.

You made an impatient noise that, were you both at home with plenty of time, wouldn’t have gone unpunished- but time was of the essence here.

Sort of.

“Just admiring the view, princess,” he said after an agonizing moment of simply staying still. Wetness was spreading between your legs, warm and slick and the ache that accompanied it was intense. “You really do look amazing like that.”

Toshi pressed further into your mouth, revelling in the hot wet heat that welcomed him.

He was big and you had to relax your jaw a lot to take him inside but you were more than used to it- seeing as one of his favourite activities was watching you go down on him. He kept going until he was barely brushing the back of your throat and he gave himself a squeeze as though to keep himself in check.

He let go then and trailed his thumb down, across your bottom lip and chin before pulling away completely.

“Now suck me off,” he ordered, an edge of strain to his voice.

You did just that, eager to please him. The tie tightened again around your neck- probably involuntarily as you went to town- but it still spurred a strangled moan out of you that vibrated through his cock.

He grunted your name, his hips bucking. You could tell that he was restraining himself though, considering you hadn’t been thrown clean across the room.

You hollowed your cheeks and dragged upwards, using the flat of your tongue on the underside of him.

“That’s it sweetheart,” he moaned. “Just like that. You’re so good for Daddy. So hot,” he said mindlessly, a string of incoherent thoughts just spilling from his lips as he got lost in the pleasure of your mouth. You couldn’t help but feel a little proud that you could put him in this state just with a blowjob.

“You’re perfect baby,” he sighed, his head dropping back to enjoy the feeling of the hot, wet suction on his cock. You traced a line along the vein that protruded from the length of him with the point of your tongue and saw his thigh muscles twitch hard.

Your body sang in response. It had taken you so long to bring him out of his shell at the beginning of your relationship and now here he was- getting sucked off in the middle of an auditorium, singing your praises out loud for anyone to hear.

From convincing him that your age difference didn’t bother you in the slightest, to coaxing him into being a little rougher in bed, it had been a long road, getting him to open up about his likes and dislikes. Getting him to put his trust in you. Making him believe that you wouldn’t laugh, wouldn’t judge him, wouldn’t walk away because he had a kink you didn’t like.

But in the end, all of your kinks had actually aligned.

Choking, domination, praise-

The day you’d accidentally called him Daddy for the first time, though… Oh that had been something else.

You had been riding him on the living room floor, setting an almost punishing pace that would leave you both spent for the rest of the day. Somehow, you had convinced him to keep the curtains open- the thought of getting caught thrilling you down to the bone even though he’d looked intimidated at the implication.

Although he’d insisted that you be on top and had even smoothed down his hair to try and stay out of sight and that had made you giggle- the thought of the headlines the next day should you get caught.

Breaking News! All Might’s Dick Just As Big As We’d Expected! Lucky Woman Found Unconscious At Scene!

Your knees had been red and sore from the rug underneath you but you’d been so mindlessly set on coming that you’d barely noticed.

His fingers were digging hard into your hips and the moment you’d started bouncing in his lap, his sense of privacy had gone and he was into it- encouraging you to roll your hips, pressing your tits together to push his face between them and spurring you onwards with an absolutely filthy monologue.

You stood by the fact that it had not been your fault. Especially when he’d started with the whole, ‘you’re such a good girl’ shit. You had been close- so close and he’d been panting your praises and the damn words had slipped out without you meaning them to.

A broken, stilted sob of-

“Fu-uck yeah, harder Daddy!”

You’d continued for another three seconds- full porn star mode activated- until you’d realized what you’d just said and all movement had ceased. Apart from the slow raising of your head to look him in the eye, deer in headlights meets startled rabbit, neither of you made a motion to continue.

“Um… I- Sorry, it just slipped out,” you’d said sheepishly, body still thrumming from the thrill of saying it out loud and from the orgasm that had been tantalizingly close. He still hadn’t spoken, lips parted as though he wanted to try but was failing spectacularly. “It’s okay if you aren’t into it baby!” you had continued hastily. “If you want we can just forget about it-”

“No!” he’d said, finally finding his voice at long last. His hips had snapped upwards, rattling your brain and driving his cock inside again with a new, energized rhythm. “No, no, no… Don’t be embarrassed. I liked it,” he’d rumbled, burying his face against your neck, pressing hot, desperate kisses to your skin. “You can say it again if you want.”

Who the Hell were you to argue with All Might when he was asking you to do that?

After that, the age difference, the scars he bore, the kinks you both shared- it all felt much more open. There was a newfound easiness to your relationship. You felt like you could share anything with him and vice versa and because of that, you swiftly discovered that Toshinori was kinky as Hell.

And just as repressed.

He didn’t dare share those parts of himself before because if they were ever repeated to newspapers or reporters, he would face inevitable ridicule from the general public because he was put on such an untouchable pedestal. It had greatly upset you that because of who he was and what he put on the line every day, he wasn’t allowed to be himself even in private.

But he’d never trusted anyone, he told you then, the way he trusted you.

At the thought of him saying those words to you, you groaned, mouth full as you slid him inside as far as you could. His head snapped back up to stare at you, his lips parting and a throaty moan slipping out. You rolled back, bobbing your head in an easy rhythm and with each downwards stroke, you took him in further.

Drool made him slick and shiny and easy to take, but you still had to grip his thigh for support the further you went. Once again, the tie around your throat tightened. It was just tight enough now to start making itself known- start to be worrying but the mere feel of it was making your clit throb painfully between your legs.

You wanted more.

You wanted him to choke you with it.

Breathing through your nose now, you let your throat relax and finally took him in as far as you were physically capable. Your wish abruptly came true and the feeling of the head of his cock pressing down the back of your throat, coupled with the tightness of the tie, made you gag around him.

Toshinori swore, loudly, half in pleasure and half in concern.

But when he made to pull out of your mouth, the hand that had been gripping his thigh found his ass instead and you refused to let him go. You made a noise of protest and he stopped moving altogether, his stuttering hips trying desperately not to buck into you and make it any worse.

You had to make a conscious effort to ignore your gag reflex, dropping your head forward to take him in again- albeit a little more carefully than before. Just before he could hit the back of your throat, you slowed down to a crawl, working him in further without making your body panic.

The sensation wrenched a full body shiver from him, his breath heaving in his broad chest.

“That’s my girl,” he praised fervently, his cheeks hot and the muscles in his abdomen fluttering and twitching. “You’re the best little cocksucker ever, aren’t you darling?” You absolutely would have answered if your mouth wasn’t currently occupied. His words were turning you on, making you desperate for an orgasm but your hands were far too busy on him to think about touching yourself.

He would take care of you later, no doubt. So for now, you concentrated on bringing him to the edge.

Now, usually you weren’t one to blow your own horn but in this case, you would openly and quite proudly admit that you had a knack for getting him off. Especially with your mouth. You’d never given a blowjob with quite as much enthusiasm as you did when it was with him and it was like he knew that.

He was panting softly, his chest rising and falling above you and making the already straining buttons of his shirt even tauter as his muscles flexed.

Such was your enjoyment of his reactions that the fact that you kept choking on the tip of his cock was only a mild inconvenience. He tasted hot and salty on your tongue, precum mixing thickly with your saliva and escaping from the corner of your mouth.

He grit his teeth, a growl half mingled with a moan dragged from his throat at the sight.

He caught it halfway down your chin with a swipe of his thumb and then tugged on the tie around your neck. Reluctantly, you released him- silently proud of the slick, dark pink throbbing mess that you’d left him in. Your jaw ached, yeah, but it wasn’t unbearable and it quickly eased now that he wasn’t in your mouth any more.

You parted your lips in anticipation of his thumb- assuming he wasn’t going to let you waste anything.

“Uh-uh, lips closed sweetheart.”

You raised your eyebrows, amused at his hungry expression and did as he said. But not before biting your bottom lip, dragging your teeth over it to leave it redder than it had been. His shoulders dropped when he heaved a pleased, wanting sigh.

“Absolute tease,” he murmured fondly, before smearing the come and saliva across your closed lips to make them shiny.

Before he could move his hand away, your tongue darted out to catch him and he humoured you instead of giving you a warning tug on the tie. He pressed his thumb between your waiting lips- still sticky with precum and saliva and the groan that he released when you swirled your tongue around him was sinful.

A full body tremor ran from your toes to your fingertips and he noticed- because this was All Might and he noticed everything. His lips tugged upwards in a devastatingly attractive smirk- the kind you would see on a villain’s face in the heat of battle.

It was so unusual, but fuck did it look good on him.

Your palms flattened on his muscular thighs, sliding upwards and drinking in the warmth radiating from him under your fingertips. More than anything you wanted to pull his pants down further- feel his skin under your hand but he was calling the shots and you didn’t dare. There was also the fact that if anyone were to walk in they would get an eyeful off his bare ass and no-one was allowed that privilege but you.

He smoothed his fingers across your cheek, cupping your face in his massive hand and tilting your head up to look at him. Honestly, you must have looked like a disaster zone.

Cheeks red with arousal, practically panting, lips parted in anticipation.

That only seemed to turn him on more. His eyes flashed with lust and his tongue darted out and what you wouldn’t give right now to be able to read his mind. When he took his hand away to grip the base of his cock, you whined pathetically. You didn’t really know what you wanted though and right now you didn’t have the words to actually vocalize it either.

Did you need to come? Absolutely.

Did you also need to have his cock back in your mouth? Yes, with a capital Y.

Not to mention the tie was going a little slack and you were beginning to miss the tightness around your throat. A thought quickly crossed your mind that made you clench your thighs, shivering under the pulse of arousal that washed over you. You wanted his hand around your throat instead.

Toshinori cocked his head to the side, still stroking himself.

You tugged on his pinstripe slacks and then pitched forward to press an open mouthed kiss against the shaft of his cock- sloppily almost missing and kissing his fingers too. You were shaking, trembling with the sweet ache and you desperately needed something to take the edge off.

“Colour?” he asked, tugging you away gently by the tie.

“Yellow,” you breathed, clit throbbing with tension that you couldn’t do anything about and your body tightly thrumming.

He seemed genuinely surprised by your choice, though the silken material around your throat went slack almost immediately and he took a swift step away from you- giving you the space that you didn’t actually want. All you really wanted was an opportunity to talk openly.

“Are you alright?” he asked, concern lacing his tone as he took in your dishevelled state- as though he was seeing what he’d done to you clearly for the first time. “Is the tie too tight? Do you need some water or-��

You waved him off with your hand, trying to catch your breath long enough to actually speak. Your throat was dry sure, but not for the reason he was thinking. Goddamn this man and the things he did to you- whether he meant them or not.

“No- No Toshi,” you answered, breathlessly, chest heaving. “I’m fine, I just- Please, I want your hand instead of the tie.”

The only indication that he was surprised by the request was a quirk of his eyebrows.

“Oh,” he snorted softly, his cock bobbing back and forth with every movement he made. Your gaze zoned in on it, lips parting almost expectantly despite still being on a momentary time out. “You had me worried there for a second. I thought you weren’t enjoying yourself.”

“You know me better than that, Toshi,” you admonished, tugging at his slacks again. When he didn’t move, a pleading whine caught in your throat.

“M’ waiting sweetheart,” he sing-songed lightly and you shivered from head to toe as the game began again. The tie drew taught, almost too quickly as his excitement got the better of him. A strangled gasp cut off in the air as you looked up at him, wondering how he seemed so composed while you were basically reduced to pieces on the floor.

“Please, Daddy,” you pouted, impatient but still willing to give him what he wanted.

The words and the sight of you, basically begging on your knees, urged him into action and any further teasing he might have been considering was abandoned. You both needed to come, that much was clear and drawing it out any longer wasn’t helping either of you.

Long, powerful fingers curled around your throat and your pussy throbbed as though an electric current had passed between you both. Granted, from the way he was staring at you as he ducked down to reach you, it might as well have.

You were pliant and easily led, rising to your feet with the barest hint of a tug. You wrapped a hand over his wrist to steady yourself, thrilled when as usual, your fingers didn’t stand a chance of meeting around it.

He squeezed and your legs quivered, a tremble wracking your thighs.

His other hand had abandoned the tie now and instead swept up over your thigh as he walked you backwards. You hit the desk with a bump but Toshinori didn’t give you more than a second to get your bearings. He leaned past you and despite the mess you would have to clear up before you both went home, he swept one big arm across the surface of the desk to clear it for you.

Everything scattered in a wide arc but you were much too busy lifting yourself up to sit on the edge, your boyfriend’s fingers tightening ever so slightly around your neck. His hand was so damn big that his fingers actually met around the circumference and knowing that did little to quell the heat in your belly.

“Baby,” you muttered needily but Toshi was already sweeping forward to kiss you- all tongue and teeth and he really didn’t seem to care that you probably tasted of his own cock right now because the way his tongue pressed and licked at your own was almost obscene.

You were, officially, a disaster zone of a human being.

Toshi squeezed again and you broke away from his kiss with a choked moan of desperation. The week long drought had finally, finally broken you.

“Please,” you whined. “Please, please, please-”

He was already unbuttoning your jeans, thick fingers fumbling on the button and zipper until at last you batted his hand away and did it yourself, ignoring his chuckle at how eager you were. His cock jutted proudly from his open pants and his shirt had come untucked at some point that you couldn’t remember but it gave him a dishevelled, ‘just fucked’ look that was doing things to you.

Not that there was much more to be done.

The whole thing was reminding you of the picture he’d sent you two days ago and what you wouldn’t have given to have been there that time too.

He let go of your neck briefly to help you out of your jeans and panties, stripping you from the waist down.

A moment later and his hands went in two different directions.

One cupped between your legs, forcing them apart as he dipped his two middle fingers between the lips of your pussy. A breath caught in his chest. You had been soaking wet ever since he’d told you to get on your knees for fuck’s sake. The other hand, to your relief, went right back where you wanted it to be.

He pressed you backwards on the now empty desk until your back level with the surface and you were staring up at the ceiling. You were almost vibrating in anticipation, hitching your knees up to rest on his hips and locking your ankles at the small of his back.

Toshi hovered over you, all solid muscle and wolfish grin and you almost leaned up for a kiss before remembering that doing so would lead to you choking under his hand. You hadn’t had sex with him in this muscular form for a while now and sometimes you forgot just how fucking strong his grip was.

Instead, you rolled your lower body upwards to encourage him to move and in doing so, accidentally rubbed yourself on his fingers.

The sudden jolt of pressure against your clit went straight to your head and much to your utter shame, you mewled like a goddamn kitten. You made a fucking noise that sounded so pathetic it almost made you throw your hands up and put a stop to the whole thing.

He was staring at you, eyebrows raised and eyes wide.

“Not a word!” you warned, game forgotten for a moment- along with any urgency you might have had over being in public like this. “We are never, ever speaking of that again,” you muttered, face flushed with mortification when he opened his mouth to speak. “If I ever make a noise like that again, I want you to throw me into the sun- Oh fuck!”

Toshinori, was now beaming from ear to ear, smug that he’d drawn it out of you.

He very clearly disagreed with the verdict you’d given and once again, he dragged the pads of his thick fingers upwards to circle your clit lazily- and anything else that was about to come out of your mouth morphed into a pleased moan.

“Ah, ah, ah, kitten,” he said and you scowled at him despite the throbbing, delicious pleasure he was currently providing you. You supposed that the flush on your face and the little pants you were letting out did nothing to make you seem intimidating. “I think that that was one of my favourite noises ever. Think I can make you make it again?” he asked, nuzzling between your breasts and your hardened nipples tingled against the fabric of your bra.

“You’d better fucking not-” you tried to say.

But all of a sudden, Toshi’s hand tightened around your throat and you gasped as he loomed over you. His fingers began to move in tight, fast little circles- the kind he would use when he wanted you to come quickly and you could already feel the building tension in your thighs and stomach as he glanced between you both to see what he was doing.

He licked his lips and breathed out an appreciative sigh at the sight, squeezing your throat again.

“Listen to Daddy, kitten,” he repeated, all no nonsense because apparently the game had begun again and hooray for you because you were absolutely about to win. “Because that wasn’t a request. Now, what do we say?” he asked and then dipped his fingers low and inside you, making the words you’d managed to get out break in the middle.

“Yes! Y-es, Daddy!” you choked out, eyes watering as he fucked you with his fingers. God, the stretch was fantastic. He didn’t hold back either, keeping an almost punishing rhythm that had you gasping for air.

He curled them ever so slightly and you shuddered, hips jerking upwards in a desperate attempt to either get closer or relieve the pressure. You had no idea which because his hand was choking you tightly enough that the only real thoughts in your head were badly strung together swear words.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he hummed, pleased and for the second time today, he ran his tongue across his teeth and grinned at you. Even though most thoughts were being railed out of your head at an amazing speed, you did manage to notice that he was beginning to look a little desperate himself- despite the cool, calm demeanour he was presenting.

You clenched your muscles around his fingers experimentally and sure enough, his jaw tightened- smile gone and his eyes predatory.

“Since we’re in public, there isn’t enough time to do all the things I want to do to you… But we can make do, sweetheart, can’t we?” he asked and you nodded. You didn’t care what kind of marathon you were signing up to later as long as he kept going right now and did. Not. Stop.

Then his fingers were gone and the fat head of his cock was parting your pussy, bearing down to push inside you. You arched you back as you cried out and Toshi shushed you sweetly, although he kept the grip on your neck firm so that you wouldn’t move around too much.

Knowing that these hands could hit hard enough to level a city block only served to make you wetter than you already were and the pressure of his cock pushing into you was leaving you breathless. You made another pathetic noise- still stretching around him as he pressed on further.

“Colour, kitten?” he asked suddenly, eyeing your absolutely wrecked expression.

“Green! Green, baby please!” you bucked, trying to take him in faster. Toshinori snorted and held you firmly- despite your protest and plea for him to hurry things along. You might be well practiced in taking his cock, but that didn’t mean it didn’t require a good amount of preparation and it wasn’t something he was willing to just rush.

He didn’t care if someone walked in and you had to stop altogether. He refused to let you get hurt just because you were both too eager to do this safely.

On the other hand, you were holding onto his wrist for dear life with both hands, your fingers digging in and urging him to go faster.

Splaying his free hand wide across your belly, Toshi held you still and with a short sharp thrust he finally felt the head of his cock push inside you. You made a noise of extreme satisfaction and now it was just a matter of slowly inching himself in bit by bit. He did so, as slowly as he could stand until he felt like you were at your limit.

You were shaking, because if he didn’t move in the next three seconds you were going to move for him. Fuck the game at this point, he was teasing you to the point of absolute madness-

Toshi watched your face as he pulled out and thrust back in, easy and slow to begin with. Your reaction was instantaneous.

You cried out, hips rolling and one hand sliding up along his arm to grip what you could of his bicep. He smirked and did it again, loving the way your head pressed back against the wood and how fucking amazing his hand looked around your throat.

You were on a whole other goddamn planet right now.

Breathing was getting slightly difficult but not impossible and if you tapped his arm twice he would know to lighten up. You weren’t at your limit yet though and so you simply touched him where you could reach, needing the heat of his skin beneath your palms.

His hand tightened again as he groaned, loudly and sinfully- like this was the most religious experience he’d ever had. Your vision blurred for a moment and the pressure in your stomach was twisting, winding tighter and tighter until it was dangerously close to snapping.

Your whole body was lighting up, nerve endings firing and Toshi was now picking up the pace of his thrusts. He was still keeping them steady but his tempo increased, and the slick warmth between your legs was making your head spin. Or maybe it was the lack of oxygen-

Fuck, you needed to breathe.

You tapped his arm twice and his grip immediately lessened, eyes flashing towards your face in concern. But as you’d agreed on, he didn’t stop fucking you or remove his hand from your neck. That would have been three taps- and you were nowhere near fucked out enough for that yet.

You sucked in a full breath, glad for the oxygen.

“Okay baby?” he asked, leaning over you to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth. You nodded, finding the perfect opportunity to thread your fingers through the hair on the back of his head. Such were the perks of having an absurdly tall boyfriend. He could comfortably fuck you and lean over to kiss you at the same time.

He sighed into the kiss, hips snapping forward and you bit down on his bottom lip- before sucking it lightly. Toshi made a noise of pleasure but it was drowned out by your keening cry when he reached down to rub at your clit again.

“Tighter again?” he asked after a moment of letting you catch your breath and you nodded eagerly, mouth falling open as he applied the pressure in increments. Bit by bit he strengthened his grip and you watched, fascinated as the muscles in his arm flexed while he did.

He stopped moments before it became too much. The whole time he’d been carefully and precisely finding the sweet spot around your throat, he’d been keeping a steady pace between your thighs. He wasn’t bottoming out- having not really had the time or space to really prepare you for that absolutely magnum task.

So you both settled for shallower thrusts, keeping the pace quick as you raced to the edge.

Toshi was panting against your shoulder and your inner muscles were fluttering around him, almost there. So close it was killing you. If he slowed down right now, you were going to kill him. Thankfully, he seemed to be all out of fucks to give and he smirked when your nails dug into his wrist, baring his teeth and sinking them into your shoulder.

You bucked almost painfully hard, a choked, cut off cry of his name leaving your lips. He let go, laving the bite with his tongue thoughtfully, soothing the sting. The thumb of the hand that was around your throat was rubbing up and down your jawline, gently reminding you not to get too carried away.

But you were so close to coming right now that your attention was elsewhere- chasing the pleasure he was giving you with a one track mind. His whole upper body was covering yours now and the hand you had buried in his hair trailed down so you could hook your arm around his back.

Palm flat, you took a second to appreciate the roll of his muscles under his shirt.

He nuzzled you, forehead pressing against the side of your head and his mouth close to your ear so you could hear every shaky, barely held together inhale and exhale.

“So good, sweetheart. You’re such a good girl,” he said and you squeezed your knees into his sides to let him know that you appreciated his praise. A lot. If there was one way to get you to do anything it was to call you a good girl and Toshinori knew and exploited that fact all the damn time. “You want to come? Yeah?” he asked as if it wasn’t obvious from the absolute state of you underneath him.

He squeezed when you didn’t answer and you managed a pathetic-

“Yes please Daddy.”

-that was hoarse and pleading and fuck, please, please, please was all you could think. You needed to come. You had needed it all fucking week and that picture that he’d sent you had nearly stopped your heart on the spot. It was all you’d thought about for hours at a time.

He was all you’d thought about.

“I’m close too, kitten,” he huffed out, raising himself up on one forearm so he loomed over you again. “Tighter?” he asked again and you nodded as best you could, feeling his hips pick up speed even more. This was it. He choked you as tight as you could handle without tapping out and thrust forward at such an angle that he managed to brush against your clit at long last.

The result was instantaneous.

Your orgasm whited you out. It spread from your fingers to your toes and hit every nerve with a fucking baseball bat on the way down. If no-one knew what was going on in here before then they would definitely know now- considering you had just screamed Toshinori’s name loud enough to be heard across town.

Between your garbled sobs and pleading and moans of his name mixed with obscenities, Toshi was barely holding on to himself. The strong contraction of your muscles around his cock was suddenly too much and he lost the battle to see you through to the end of your orgasm.

He groaned, long and low when his balls tightened and he came- panting your name as his hips jerked repeatedly. You could feel the tremble in his muscles between your legs and the sweet, fulfilling sensation of him filling you up.

He wasn’t as deep as he would normally be though and the result was a mess, your mixed come dripping out around his cock and down your ass- pooling on the table below.

His forehead dropped to the wood beside you as you both slumped at the same time, utterly exhausted.

“How are you holding up princess? You alright?” he asked after a long moment of simply breathing in time to yours- noticing the way your eyes were shut and your breathing was still hard.

Opening your eyes at last, you smoothed your hand across the broad plane of his back, scratching your nails in a soft line between his shoulder blades. His whole body trembled again- both from little aftershocks and the fact that he was nearing his limit on holding this form.

“Alright?” you snorted. “Alright? Are you kidding me, Toshinori? I’m pretty sure that I’m not walking out of here. At least… not in a straight line.”

Your laughter was infectious and he joined in, the pair of you giggling like teenagers, exhausted and spent and covered in various fluids. You would have been content to lay there like that with him at home, keeping him inside you while you played with his hair and gave him massive heart eyes. But it was quickly dawning on the both of you that hanging around in the open like this any longer was definitely going to get you caught.

Toshi groaned when he pulled out of you and stood up straight, rubbing his back. He grumbled something under his breath about ‘getting old’ and you managed to lift your head to look at him- incredulous.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure old guys don’t fuck like you do baby,” you informed him smugly, absolutely loving the way his cheeks flushed as though he hadn’t been choking you and calling himself ‘daddy’ not five minutes before. This man was a study in fucking opposites sometimes and it only endeared him to you even more.

He groaned when he twisted from side to side and you took pity on him, despite not being able to move much yourself.

“Babe, why don’t you just change back now? You have to be exhausted.”

He shot you a grateful look and then did just that- a blast of air and smoke and there he was in all of his skinny glory- dwarfed in a suit that was now ten times too big for him. Considering that his pants were still splayed open at the top, gravity dictated that they almost immediately fall down to his ankles.

“Damn,” he huffed and glared down at them, unamused at both that and your resulting laughter.

“There’s no way I can bend down for those,” he said, face absolutely deadpan and despite the ache in your whole damn body, you were wracked with giggles as he stared forlornly at his pants. He glanced over at you, content to lay there for a moment longer while he worked out his dilemma. “Little help?”

“Oh, Daddy, there’s no hope of that. My legs are done. Anyone could walk in right now and I wouldn’t give a shit,” you explained, raising the only part of you that wasn’t all fucked out. You lifted your head and grinned at him- his expression amused and exasperated in equal measure. “Besides, I need to get my breath back.”

He laughed, short and sharp and finally found the energy to bend at the waist and pull his pants up. He had to tighten the belt as much as he possibly could to make them stay put, but eventually they complied and he wandered over to you- holding your panties and jeans in one hand.

He dangled them over your head and you managed a lazy grab, giggling again as he pulled them out of your reach.

Then his eyes flickered down to your throat and he frowned suddenly, reaching out to rub gently over the redness he’d left behind. You were still quite content to sag back against the desk, knowing that when you moved at last it would mean cleaning up the mess you had both made of the hall.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I know you like being choked sweetheart but I’m always worried that I overdo it,” he said, concerned as he always was after a particularly intense session. Your expression softened at the way he worried, feeling a wave of affection for him.

You really wouldn’t have him any other way. No one worried about you like he did.

You caught his hand in yours and brought it to your lips to kiss his palm.

“I loved it and I love you and I had a great time.”

His expression changed in an instant, a winning smile gracing his skinny features and you returned it without even thinking.

“Love you too sweetheart,” he responded softly and you gave his hand one last kiss before finally summoning the energy to stand at long last. Using the desk behind you for support, you tiredly shimmied back into your pants while your boyfriend went about gathering the papers that had been strewn around the floor.

It was only when you glanced at him after a moment, did it dawn on you what he was holding. What you’d almost been fucked on top of.

The exam papers.

The now messy, out of order, exam papers.

Hell Week had struck again and when Toshinori caught your eye, he immediately paused in what he was doing to look down at the papers in his hand too.

“Oh,” he said after a long, long moment of staring at them blankly. “Well fuck.”

#BNHAFF #all might x reader #toshinori yagi x reader #all might #toshinori yagi #bnha

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