#legit begging think of the practicality of your designs-

[tittysuckersworld]

everytime someone draws dazai with a white skirt/pants, my stomach cramps get a little more painful the next time it acts up

[teyamsgrl]

in a second ✧ jake sully

❗️ MDNI ❗️

EEEEE JAKE IS FUCKSIDJJDJS anywho i hope everyone enjoys because i sure did while writing 😜 size kink jake gets me man

°˖➴ warnings: fem omatikaya reader, age gap (jake 32, reader 20), alcohol mentions, dom!jake, sub!reader, DADDY KINK WHO IS SURPRISED, fingering, lil masturbation, spit kink, size kink, slight spanking (legit just one), dirty talkkkkkkk

being mated with a man that was olo'eyktan and toruk makto was not an easy job, but you absolutely adored it. being 12 years younger than jake put you in a spot where you were still learning so much and doing a lot of tsahik practice, while he was often busy with his duties. some weeks were more bustling than others due to current happenings, war parties and whatnot. finally there would be some downtime for the next few days, resulting in jake's friends deciding that a little gathering and getting tipsy was the perfect celebration. you were, of course, down for some fun. as long as you were with jake, you felt safe and were willing to do whatever. and, when your pussy did the thinking, you were reminded that when jake had some alcohol in his system he was beyond horny, like hornier than usual.

you had told jake this morning as he was running out of your tent that you would meet him at the gathering, unsure when you would be done with your tsahik practice for the day. once you returned home you quickly changed into a different set of top and bottoms, beads crossing over your chest while your bottoms consisted of a basic purple loincloth, a similar bead design as an accessory around your waist. you head out, knowing you were near as you could hear the laughs of several omatikaya men. you smile as you hear jake's voice in the distance, walking speed subconsciously picking up. once you reach the group you sign to everyone, slipping beside jake and snuggling into his side. "hey, sweet girl" he places a kiss on your head, arm wrapping securely around your waist. "hi, ma'jake" you reach into the middle of the group, grabbing yourself a drink. "careful there, you know you can't handle much" he chuckles and downs the rest of his current drink before joining you with a now full cup. "don't worry, i can handle myself" you tease and take a large gulp, "plus, i have to catch up with you, i can tell you're a few in" you giggle as his glossy eyes trail down your body. "mhmmm and so what? just because i'm tipsy doesn't mean i can't admire my mate" he licks his lips and plays with the chain of beads on your waist.

you shake your head and giggle more, finishing up your drink. "damn, kid" he leans to grab you another, large hand slipping down your back to rest on your ass. you felt so small with jake, his hands feeling enormous compared to any part of your body. "thank you" you lean into him more, alcohol somehow already bringing upon brain fog. he wasn't wrong about you not being able to handle much. "do you like the outfit?" you ask, free hand resting atop his bicep. "i love it, you look beautiful.." he leans down so his mouth is next to your ear, "makes me wanna bend you over right here, take you in front of everyone". a whimper escapes your mouth at the thought, squirming slightly so your legs are crossed over one another. here was horny jake. "mhm, you like that, don't you? want everyone to know that you're mine, my little girl.." he growls out the sentence softly, hand now squeezing your ass. you look into his eyes submissively, trying to beg him to drag you out of here and fuck the sense out of you. "use your words, and we'll be out of here in a second.." "daddy please... take me home and use me... i need you, please" you whimper out, nails digging into his bicep. he nods at you and you both down the rest of your drinks, exchanging goodbyes and exiting the gathering eagerly.

once you reach your tent jake immediately latches the entrance and pulls you in, hands groping all over your lower half as he pulls you in for a feverish kiss. you hum into the kiss as his tongue slips into your mouth, colliding with yours as he slides a hand into the front of your loincloth, fingers slithering through your wetness with ease. you gasp and grab his shoulders, bucking your hips against his fingers. he chuckles and pulls away, looking down to observe your movements. "so desperate for daddy, huh kid? already soaking..." you nod and whine at the feeling of his fingers, "use your words, don't make me have to keep asking you... be my good girl.." he slips a finger inside, squelching sound filling your ears right away. "yes i'm desperate, daddy!!! you make me so wet.." you whimper out as his finger starts to pump in and out of you, brushing along your g spot. "that's my good girl... now, you made this special outfit for me?" he slips in another finger, whines escaping your mouth as you try to form an answer, "y-yes daddy", "mhmmm... made it just for me to rip it off huh? such a needy slut.." he slips his fingers out and licks them clean, analyzing the look on your face. "what is it, babygirl? need something?" he taunts, smirk on his face as he steps away to untie to his loincloth, large cock jumping out immediately. you lick your lips as you eye his cock, his large hand wrapping around his shaft and stroking slowly but firmly. he watches as you squirm, "i can only give you what you need if you tell me, otherwise i won't know what it is you're longing for..." he says as his breath quivers a bit, pleasure coursing through his cock. "daddy..." you reach out for him only causing him to step back. "ah ah.. tell daddy what you need, babygirl" he continues stroking himself as you gather our thoughts through the arousal clouding your mind, "you! daddy i need you! need you inside of me, need to feel how big you are inside, need your cum..." your body is hot now, the necessity of his cock becoming unbearable.

he approaches you, hand grabbing your chin and angling your head up to face him. you opened your mouth in preparation, knowing what jake was about to do. "good girl.." he whispers and spits in your mouth, manually shutting it with his hand. he kisses you deeply after you swallow, bringing you down to the floor of your tent. he pushes you onto your knees, guiding your head onto the floor. he drags his hands across your back, swiftly removing your moistened loincloth and tossing it to the side. he groans softly as he gazes at your pussy, lining himself up. you push back at the feeling of his idle tip at your hole, provoking jake to leave a hard spank on your ass, "you wait for daddy, got it?" he growls upon not hearing a response from you, thrusting entirely into your pussy. you gasp loudly at the sensation, "there we go, knew you were still capable of making noise..." he moans softly as he starts to thrust, hips rutting into yours rapidly. "big- so big" you babble out and he brings a hand to press your head onto the floor, other hand dragging one of yours to your stomach. "big, huh? feel daddy's cock under your hand?" he groans as he thrusts deeply, bulge appearing under your hand. your mewls are constant as he continues, "big cock for such a tiny girl- fuck you're so small, baby..." he gasps as his tip grazes your cervix, watching how your ass jiggles with each thrust. "daddy- it's too much" you squeal at the touch on your cervix, knot forming inside of you. "you can take it, little girl, i know you can- fuck.." he groans out as he releases your hand and head to grip your hips, now relentlessly pounding your pussy. your mind is jumbled as he fucks into you, all you know is that the knot inside of you is about to come undone; "can i- can i- please" you whimper out breathlessly as his fingers bruise your hips, "cum for daddy, babygirl, come on... show me" your ears go flat on your head as you moan, cum flowing onto his cock and walls tightening around him. "that's it, that's a good girl- gonna fill you, baby, gonna fill your tight little pussy to the brim" he groans as he pushes in one last time, cum spilling out into you and painting your walls.

you attempt to catch your breath once jake's movements still, his forehead pressed against your shoulder. he places a kiss along it, chest still heaving lightly. he moves back up to pull out, some cum dripping out of you upon his exit. he sits and brings you up to straddle his lap, "you good, sweetheart? feeling okay?" he cups your cheeks in his hands, face engulfed in his palms. "i'm good, ma'jake, are you?" you smile and turn your head slightly to kiss his hands. "mhmmm, i'm great, you're gonna wear me out someday though, i'm an old guy" he chuckles and you shake your head at him, "you don't fuck like an old guy, if that means anything" you giggle and kiss him, prompting him to lie down on his back as you continue kissing. he smiles into it at your comment, arms now wrapping around your waist securely. he could have you like this forever, small and warm in his arms.

[papirouge]

First of all, Paul Walker was a predator who's rotting in hell for dating barely legal girls. Regardless what his daughter did, he deserved all the hate in the world for that.

Secondly, you were indeed naive to send free stuff to an influencer but the most important is that you learned your lesson. I assume it was some years ago(?) when such practices weren't so commonly called out so you most likely couldn't predict it would turn out this way.

If it had happened today I'd have advised you -if you really like the mess- to contact YouTube tea channels and/or make a thread online to expose her. You had the receipts so it wouldn't be that hard to prove you were legit.

Travis Baker daughter (I don't remember her name and refuse to), who's another C-list celebrity offspring, got exposed for her shitty behavior with a designer this way.

I think small creators like you should take a few pages from luxury brands that NEVER send PR to influencers PR (Hermès, Phoebe Philo, The Row). That's what I consider real luxury brands because there's nothing less luxurious than to sent shit to randos just bc they have a following and ✨like fashion✨. Real exclusivity doesn't lower itself to beg for exposure.

Took a shower and remembered the time I had beefs with two different celebrities so y’all have a couple silly stories coming after my son goes to bed.

[fic-for-fic-sake]

A Happy Accident

A/N: The other day I found out that Chris Evans may possibly have a sex dungeon? I don’t write real people fics but I knew I HAD to write a Steve Rogers fic about this because I mean...c’mon. Also the text conversation in the fic is indeed a real conversation between my friend and I. 

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: NSFW, dirty talk, dom/sub, flogging, being tied up, penetrative sex, honorifics, praise kink

Word Count: 5.4k

You knew there was trouble before you even reached the meeting room, it was like a palpable tension you could sense coming from the conference room. You mentally prepared yourself for whatever was to come as you walked in and took your usual spot next to Natasha. 

“Do you have any idea what this is about?” You questioned her, murmuring under your breath since nobody seemed keen to speak above a whisper for the time being. 

“Some kind of security breach, we don’t know how bad yet, we have to wait for Stark.” She explained, speaking in clipped tones. She seemed nervous, which was understandable given the circumstances. A security breach could mean a number of things, none of them good. Anything from weapons tech to secret identities could’ve been revealed in the breach. 

The tension seemed to come to a head when Tony and Steve walked into the room. Everyone erupted into a flurry of activity, peppering the two men with so many questions it was hard to make out what came from who. 

“What was taken?” Someone asked. 

“Was it anything serious?” Someone else wondered. 

“Do we need to scrap the new suit designs?” You asked, adding your voice to the babble. 

“Okay everyone settle down and give Tony some room to think.” Steve urged all of you, forming a one man barrier around Stark. Which you had to admit was rather effective. Once everyone reseated themselves and Steve gave Tony a nod, Tony cleared his throat. 

“By now you all have obviously heard that there’s been a security breach. We don’t know who is behind the breach but so far all that was leaked was text conversations of the following Avengers; Wanda, Sam, Bucky, and Y/N.” 

You felt your heart drop to your stomach. You were a target in the security breach. But why? Why you specifically and why just your text conversations? It seemed rather harmless considering everything else they could’ve taken. 

“Luckily Wanda doesn’t really text anyone because everyone she knows is here. As far as Sam, Bucky, and Y/N are concerned they only leaked conversations from your work phones, meaning your personal phone security isn’t in question.” Tony reassured you all. Well, it reassured Sam and Bucky at least. 

“Um, what do you mean ‘work phone’?” You asked, looking around with a puzzled expression on your face. 

“You do have a burner phone for personal use, right?” Nat asked from beside you. Now your heart was located somewhere in your feet. 

“I didn’t know I needed one.” You whispered, barely contained horror edging its way into your voice. 

“Well, I mean what’s the worst that could be there?” Sam asked, trying to reassure you. Luckily, or unluckily enough, you didn’t have to answer that question because within the coming days they would all find out. 

After the meeting you tried to go about your normal routine and ignore the security breach as best as you could. That got considerably harder the following morning, when the hacker released your private conversations with your friends for all the world to see. They went something like this: 

Sarah: Do you think Steve Rogers is good in bed? 

You: Obviously, dumb question. 

Sarah: Do you think he’s kinky though? 

You: Oh 100%, no way he doesn’t have a secret sex dungeon or something. 

Sarah: Since you’re an Avenger now you should try to find out. 

You: HAHAHAHAHA that’s hilarious and something I’ll never do, in reality. But in theory PUT ME IN COACH! I bet he would probably make me sign an NDA and I would totally be down for that. 

Sarah: I’ll sign a DNR

You: HAA, I would sign the NDA but also have to tell you what’s happening and then I would make you sign an NDA. 

Sarah: Then you’re breaking the NDA??

You: Not if you don’t tell anyone goddamn be cool. 

Sarah: It’s the principle of the thing

You: ...I wonder what kind of dom he is

Sarah: Idk if he’s a daddy. He feels like a Sir or Master. I also think he doesn’t have soft limits, only hard limits. 

You: as much as I would like to think he’s a pleasure dom I don’t think that’s true

Sarah: I agree

You: Maybe a brat tamer? 

Sarah: That feels too tame for him. 

You: Okay so then just a no holds bard whipping dom. I would wait all day in his sex dungeon just to lick his boots when he came home. Does that make me depraved? Probably. 

Sarah: Possibly, I also think he’d degrade the shit out of you, like kinda pet play shit. I also think he has a spreader bar collection. Aaaand an overstimulation kink. 

You: Oh agreed, that and edging. I feel like he would edge you for hours and then leave to go on a mission or something and you’re not allowed to touch yourself and then he comes back hours later and you’re just aching for release. And then only after you’re BEGGING he would let you come. 

Sarah: Oof. How much do you wanna bet his dungeon is like a sensory deprivation thing? Think about it, hours upon hours of not having any form of relief, after begging nonstop, no real form of your senses and then BAM normal orgasm but heightened to the absolute max. 

You: YEP! I bet he’s like the king of aftercare though, like 1000/10 so sweet. Like Steve Rogers is legit such a nice human being so I assume aftercare is the same. 

Sarah: AYO SIR LEMME BE YOUR SUB

You: GOD FORREAL!

Needless to say, you did not leave your room that day. The next day you tried to get away with not leaving your room again but Nat was having none of that. 

“Come on Y/N, I promise it’s not that bad, I’ve said much worse.” She assured you as she practically dragged you out of your room and into the elevator. 

You buried your head in your hands and let out a frustrated scream. “He’s a coworker, Nat, and I totally objectified him and basically said all the filthy things I wanted him to do to me.” 

“And I bet he’s real flattered about it! The man needs a good ego boost every now and then.” She replied with a laugh. To which you responded with another frustrated scream and a kick to the elevator doors as they opened. “I bet he didn’t even read it, I doubt anyone on the team did.” She said, sounding certain in her own thinking. She half convinced you until you walked into the training room and every pair of eyes turned to you, including Steve’s baby blues. Fuck. 

“Okay we’re working in a group today people, focusing on enhanced individuals with external powers. Wanda and Y/N against Sam, Bucky, and Steve.” Nat announced, opening the door to the special training facility. So you and Wanda wouldn’t trash too much of Stark’s equipment with your powers. 

“Hey Y/N, you been to any good sex dungeouns recently? I’m looking for one.” Sam quipped as you made your way to the starting point. Before you could even think about what you were doing the smell of ozone was ripe in the air and you sent a bolt of lightning hurtling towards Sam who was barely able to dodge it in time. 

“Sorry...hand slipped.” You mock apologized, making it clear that you would have another ‘hand slip’ if he didn’t keep his mouth shut. He got the point well enough but the damage was already done. The tension was worse now than when you first found out about the breach, everyone trying not to bring up the elephant in the room. 

Nat cleared her throat and started her countdown and then the training began in earnest. After an hour you were all panting and sweating, utterly spent from your session. Steve passed everyone a water bottle and you took it gratefully, chugging the cool liquid in earnest. It was then that another comment was made, this time by Bucky. 

“Thanks for the aftercare daddy.” He mocked as he opened his own water bottle. Once again the smell of ozone was in the air but you didn’t have a chance to meet your target before Steve had Bucky pressed against the wall, his forearm digging into the other man’s throat. 

“That’s enough.” He growled through his teeth. Everyone was silent for a minute and you almost felt sorry for the deer in the headlights look Bucky was now wearing on his face, almost. A shower of frustrated sparks extinguished all the lights in the room as you stormed from the room, embarrassment trailing after you. 

That had been four hours ago and you hadn’t left your room, despite Natasha banging on the other side of your door. You had asked FRIDAY not to open it for anyone unless given your express permission. It seemed even the AI knew what kind of a mess you had landed yourself into, as she was immediately understanding of such a request. You were in the process of ordering a burner phone off of Amazon when there was a knock at your door. 

“Nat, I don’t care how many books you offer to buy me, I’m NOT coming out of this room.” You yelled into the empty space of your room. 

“Noted, but uh, it’s Steve. Can we talk?” You were at the door before he finished his sentence. You opened it no more than a crack, not courageous enough to do more. 

“I don’t wanna talk to you, I’m mortified.” You mumbled, looking down at your feet instead of the imposing figure outside of your door. Steve gently pushed on the door with his hand and you let him open it the rest of the way. He brought gentle fingers to your chin and tilted your head back so you were looking into his eyes. 

“There’s nothing to be mortified about, sweetheart. I just wanna talk.” He replied beseechingly. And maybe it was the tone of his voice, or the way he looked at you, but you relented and let him in, closing the door softly behind you. 

“Listen, I’m really sorry for what I said. I obviously never thought it would see the light of day but that’s not an excuse and doesn’t make it okay. Fuck, Steve I’m so sorry. I can get reassigned if you want, have SHIELD put me somewhere else.” You rattled off apologies and half baked plans before you felt his hands gently clasp your shoulders and once again you were forced to look up into his eyes which had gone saucer wide. 

“Doll what are you talking about? You don’t need to be reassigned, it's not that big of a deal.” He said, in an attempt to comfort you. 

“Not a big deal? I practically accused you of having a sex dungeon and being a mega dom.” You blurted out, mortification making your voice rise half an octave. 

He let out a soft sigh before he sat down on the edge of your bed, “It’s not like you were completely in the wrong.” He replied, and that’s when your brain short circuited. 

“What? You have a sex dungeon?” 

“Well, it’s not a dungeon, it's just my bedroom, but yes I do, partake in those types of things you described.” He explained, his voice as even and calm as if he were discussing the weather. 

“Oh.” Was all you could really bring yourself to say. 

“Oh? That’s all? I have to say you were much more articulate in your texts.” He teased, his voice suddenly becoming deeper and taking on an air of authority that wasn’t there a second ago. “Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

And again, maybe it was because of his tone or because of the absurdity of the situation you found yourself in but you answered him honestly. “I’m thinking I’m absolutely mortified that my coworker found out how badly I want him to fuck me.” 

“What else?” He prompted. You couldn’t breathe properly, he was taking all the air from the room and the intensity in his gaze pinned you to the spot, like an unsuspecting doe finding itself at the barrel of a gun. 

“I’m wondering how correct my predictions were. What kind of a dom you are.” 

“Would you like to find out?” 

“Yes.” You answered before you could think better of it. The second the word left your mouth your eyes went wide at the confession. Because you did want to find out, God did you want to find out what kind of shit Steve Rogers, the golden boy, was into. 

“Then we have ourselves a deal. You want to find out what I’m into and I want to show you.” 

“Right now?” You asked, breathless. You could feel your core ache at the suggestion, the want plain as day. 

He chuckled before he moved to stand before you. “No pretty girl, not yet.” He whispered, bringing his right hand up to cup your cheek and stroke his thumb across the expanse of your lips. “First we have to talk about a few things.” 

“Like what?” You questioned, completely enraptured by this man, finding yourself willing to submit to whatever he wanted you to. You were terrified by how much the prospect excited you. 

“Like exactly what you want me to do to you. Your texts were very...explicit. But, that may have just been talk. I need to know specifics if this is going to work.” Steve explained, backing you up until you hit your dresser. Without a word he lifted you on top of it and stood between your legs, one of his hands tracing absent minded patterns on your thigh. 

It was hard to think with him in such close proximity but you tried to clear your mind because you really wanted this, your mouth went dry at the thought. “I want...I want to be tied up. And I want to be blindfolded. And whipped.” It felt weird to lay your desires out plain before you like this. It made you feel exposed, but it was also oddly empowering. 

Steve nodded his head at your requests. “You mentioned something to your friend about edging and orgasm denial, is that something you still wanted to try?” 

“Yes, but not, not yet. I’ve never um, I haven’t- I’ve never been kinky with a partner.” You explained to him, feeling an embarrassing heat creeping up your face. 

“Hey, no need to be embarrassed, we all start somewhere.” Steve insisted, bringing his hands up to settle on your hips. “Anything else?” After you shook your head he gave you a nod in reassurance. “Okay, I’ll be in touch.” He said as he stepped away from you. 

That was three days ago and you hadn’t heard anything from him on the matter since. You had trained with him, went for a run with him, had the usual team meetings and exchanged the usual pleasantries but nothing out of the ordinary. You had even gone far enough in your wandering mind to think that maybe you imagined the whole interaction. 

On Friday, you were told that Steve had gone away on a mission and by that point the team was done teasing you about the leaked conversation, already having moved on to the next thing. You had made plans to go out with them that night to a community outreach thing in Manhattan. You had just gotten your jeans on when a piece of paper slid across your floor from the door. 

You walked over to it, thinking someone had just dropped their paper, when you saw what was written on the other side of it.

Text an excuse to Stark for the outreach and then come to my room. -SR 

Your heartbeat sped up to a gallop as you read the message through two more times, just to be certain. This was it, it was happening. With shaky fingers you texted Tony a flimsy excuse about draft reports you needed to finish before you put your phone back on your desk and calmly made your way to Steve’s room. 

You went to knock but found the door slightly ajar. Taking that as your cue you stepped into Steve Rogers room. While it wasn’t the first time you had been here, it was certainly a circumstance that you weren’t used to. Everything seemed...different somehow. The curtains were drawn and the only light came from dim overhead lighting. There was a faint scent of jasmine that you assumed came from a candle or incense burner you couldn’t see somewhere. On the bed, the sheets had been changed to something that looked like silk and resting on top was an eye mask and two long chords of rope. Which seemed innocuous enough, current circumstances notwithstanding. 

“Shut the door and lock it please.” A voice commanded from a shadow in the corner of the room. As soon as you locked the door Steve Rogers emerged from the shadows in an all black version of his Captain America suit. You had never seen him in such a suit before and the sight of him in it made your mouth water and your knees buckle. This was really happening. 

“I have to admit, when I read your text conversation I was surprised to say the least. I didn’t know how many dirty thoughts resided in that head of yours but you did not disappoint, did you sweetheart?” He questioned as he made his way over to where you stood, rooted to your spot by the door. He gently pressed against your shoulder and you followed his lead, letting him back you against the door, his strong hands landing on either side of your head, arms caging you in. “And then when we spoke, you were /very/ specific in what you wanted and I am nothing if not obliging, you’ll find.” He whispered into your ear and you couldn’t help the small moan that escaped your mouth at the implication behind his words. 

“Are you ready to be my good girl? Hmm sweetheart?” 

“Yes Steve.” You whispered, your mind not being able to form anything other than those words. 

He made a slight tsking sound. “In here, don’t call me Steve. It’s Captain. Got it?” 

“Yes Captain.” You replied obediently. 

“Good girl, now get undressed for me.” He commanded, stepping back to give you room to complete his task. With nervous fingers you lifted your shirt above your head and undid the clasp on your bra. You watched as Steve’s eyes took in your exposed top half, he licked his lips which made you shiver in turn. Confidence growing by his visible excitement you unbuttoned your jeans and slipped them down your legs along with your panties, until you were gloriously naked before him. 

“God, you're so beautiful sweetheart. I’m already getting hard and all you’ve done is get undressed.” He praised you as he palmed himself through his tac pants. “Come here pretty girl.” He insisted as he picked up the blindfold. 

You walked over to him and turned around as he secured the blindfold against your eyes and tied it for you. “Now, we’re gonna use a color system, okay? Green means you’re okay to keep going, Yellow means to slow down, and Red means stop. Can you remember that doll?” 

“Yes Captain.” You murmured as you adjusted to not being able to see. You tuned into your other senses to rely on what was happening. You felt Steve take your hand and walk you over until you reached the side of the bed. He helped you up before asking you to lay down on your back. 

“Okay pretty girl I’m gonna tie you up now.” He told you as you felt both of his hands take your left arm and maneuver it above your head before securing your wrist in place with rope. He pressed a gentle kiss to the spot before repeating the process with your other arm. “How do you feel sweetheart?” 

“Good Captain, I feel good.” You told him as your heartbeat kicked up another notch. You felt him take your left leg with gentle fingers and tie your ankle to the baseboard of the bed. You gasped as he secured your right ankle, knowing you were now naked and spread bare before him. You felt the bed dip as he kneeled over you and brought his mouth down to whisper in your ear. 

“What’s your color baby?” 

“Green.” You replied. Almost immediately you felt his lips press against yours, desperate and hungry for you. You kissed back with a fervor you didn’t know you possessed. It was a strange sensation, kissing someone you couldn’t touch let alone see, but that didn’t make it unpleasant. You felt blissfully detached from your body and the need raced down to your pussy until you had the sudden urge to close your legs and hide your arousal. 

Steve chuckled against your mouth as his left hand snaked down to see what you were trying in vain to hide. “So eager for me and we’ve hardly started” He lazily swiped his fingers along your folds to feel the wetness that gathered there. He then brought the same hand up to your breast and worked your juices around your nipple, making you groan at the sheer wantonness of it all. Steve happily swallowed your groan with his mouth, his tongue taking the opportunity to pass your lips. 

You fervently kissed him back as his ministrations against your nipple continued. His lips left yours and left a trail of hot kisses down your throat and over to your neglected right nipple. You felt him blow cold air on it and your back bowed against the bed, your arms straining against the restraints. He scraped his teeth against your sensitive bud and you couldn’t help the noises that escaped your mouth. 

“Oh fuck, Captain.” You let out as he took your nipple into his mouth. You could feel his left hand leave your nipple and you let out a whine of protest. He only laughed against your skin before you heard the faint opening of a drawer. Your ears picked up the sound of him rummaging around for something but you couldn’t focus too much on that as the rest of your body was alight with fire as he continued to work on your nipple with his mouth. He finally found what he was looking for in the drawer and he released your nipple with a wet popping sound before you felt his weight shift and he removed himself from you. 

“You mentioned something about being whipped.” He teased, and you could hear that his own arousal had made his voice hoarse. Your cunt throbbed in response. “Do you know what a flogger is pretty girl?” 

“Yes Captain.” You replied from your position on the bed. Your mouth went dry at the mental image you had of Steve in his black tac suit with a flogger in hand. How would he use it on you? Would it hurt? Be pleasant? The anticipation was eating you up in the best of ways. 

“Good girl. We’re gonna do some counting. Since this is your first time we won’t do too many, just ten. But you have to count them pretty girl. If you forget, or lose count, we start over. Do you understand?” 

Oh fuck. “Yes Captain.” You heard him chuckle from somewhere above you before you heard the whoosh of the flogger and the sensation on your skin. You gasped as the leather straps came down hard against your left nipple. “One.” The second one came down against your right nipple and you found that your pussy clenched around nothing. “Two.” 

Numbers three, four, and five were placed on your nipples and your stomach.

“Halfway there pretty girl, you’re doing so well.” Steve’s voice came from somewhere around you. A thin layer of sweat had broken out over your skin and your arousal was through the roof. You found yourself panting in anticipation of the next strike. It came, the leather striking against your dripping center and you let out a gasp as your back arched off of the silk sheets. “Six” 

“Oh you liked that one didn’t you sweetheart?” Steve teased. 

“Yes Captain.” You replied breathlessly. Number seven came in the same spot and another lewd sound left your mouth as the flogger found its spot. Numbers eight and nine he placed on the sensitive insides of your thighs. 

“Last one pretty girl. You’ve taken it so well I’ll let you decide where this last one goes.” 

“Hit my pussy again, please, I want it so bad Captain.” You practically pleaded. Under any other circumstances you would’ve been ashamed at how pathetic you sounded but you didn’t care. Steve Rogers was doing depraved things to you and you couldn’t think straight. You just wanted him to keep doing what he was doing, to take all of you, every tiny nook and cranny of your being until he knew your pleasures like the back of his hand. 

“Such a needy girl, maybe after the flogger I’ll give you a reward.” He replied, sounding pleased with you, before he placed the tenth and final flog against your aching core. “God you look so sexy like this, blindfolded and tied to my bed, maybe I should leave you here as my own personal fucktoy, would you like that baby?” He asked as he inserted two fingers into your mouth. 

You mumbled your response against the digits, your pussy getting wetter at the thought of him using you like that. You were only half kidding when you had texted your friend about it but now, with your arousal so strong, it sounded more and more enticing. Steve removed his fingers from your mouth and brought them down to your sensitive center, rubbing them up and down your slit before inserting them into your slick heat. You gasped at the intrusion and felt your hips buck up in response to being filled. 

Your walls fluttered around his fingers as he began to pump them at a leisurely pace. You felt him make his way down your body to nestle himself between your spread legs and then his hot breath was fanning out over your cunt as his fingers continued to fuck you. “You look so good, pretty girl. Spread open for me like my own personal feast. God you’re so wet. I guess you like to be flogged.” He spoke, the filthy words that left his lips making you wetter than you already were. Without warning he brought his tongue to you and kitten licked your clit, sending a shockwave through your system. 

He took your clit in his mouth and sucked as he continued to work you with his fingers. You fruitlessly tugged against your restraints and bucked your hips in an attempt to get the friction you so desperately needed. 

“God sweetheart you taste better than I imagined.” Steve commented as his tongue lapped up your juices. “I bet I’ll be able to taste you on my tongue for a week.” 

“Fuck, Captain, please can I cum?” You begged, tears wetting the inside of your mask from the intensity of your session. 

“Come for me baby, let me feel you come on my fingers.” Steve commanded and that was your undoing. The knot that had been building inside of you was finally released and you came loudy around his fingers. You felt him lick you through the aftershocks. 

“Talk to me, pretty girl, how are you feeling?” Steve questioned, voice hot once again by your ear. His suit gently pressing against your overstimulated skin. “Give me a color.” He asked, pressing a gentle kiss to your jawline. 

“I’m good Captain, still Green.” You responded, coming down from your orgasm. 

“Such a good girl for your Captain. You’re doin’ so well pretty girl.” He said as he left the bed. You weren’t sure where he went until you felt his dexterous fingers undoing the ropes on your left leg. “I’m undoing the leg ropes first. And then I’m going to fuck you senseless like I’ve been wanting to do since I saw those damn text messages.” Your spent cunt clenched around nothing, as you eagerly waited for him to undo the other leg restraint. You could hear him undo the many zippers and clasps on his tac suit until the bed dipped and he was once again between your legs. 

This time skin met skin as you felt his upper thighs press between yours as he brought himself closer to you still. You felt the tip of his cock slide between your wet folds before slipping inside. The breath was stolen from your lungs at the feel of him sinking into your waiting cunt. A low moan left your mouth as you felt every perfect inch of him spreading you until he bottomed out and his hips nestled perfectly against your own. 

You felt his forehead press against your own. “Fuck you feel perfect, you know that pretty girl? My perfect little pussy.” He breathed against your mouth as he let you adjust to him. He retracted himself from you fully before swiftly filling you up again. Any noise you may have made was swallowed as he kissed you with a hunger you didn’t think was possible. What started as a slow rhythm quickly changed until he was snapping into you with a fervor akin to a madman. 

Your hips eagerly met his thrusts and soon your combined pants and skin slapping filled the room. Still blindfolded, you felt the moment his hand wrapped around your neck and squeezed just so. That had your walls flutter around him and your hips stuttered. 

“Oh you like that don’t you? You like when I choke you huh pretty girl?” He asked eagerly, his voice husky from moaning. 

“Yes, fuck, please Captain, fuck me.” You rasped out. You grunted as he brought his other hand down to press your hips into the mattress before he slammed into you at a relentless pace. Eventually, his hand left your throat to play with your bundle of nerves. 

“Come on pretty girl. Come for me.” He ordered and you were only too happy to comply. You came hard around him, enough that you saw stars behind the blindfold and Steve let out a string of curses and praises for you as he pulled out of you and you felt his cum paint your stomach. 

You had a moment to catch your breath as you heard Steve pad over to what you assumed was the bathroom. He came back and placed a warm washcloth against your skin, cleaning up the combined mess you both made. Then you felt his hands move up to untie the blindfold around your eyes. You squinted into the low light of the room and were shocked to see Steve bare chested and glistening with sweat before you. 

“Hi.” You murmured shyly, finding that some of your confidence had left you along with the blindfold. Seeing him like this, because of you, because of what you had done, somehow cemented this moment in reality. There was no turning back now. 

“Hi yourself, how do you feel?” He asked as he undid the ropes around your wrists. 

“I um wow, I feel great.” You said and realized it was true. In the afterglow of the scene you felt amazing. Sexy and empowered and utterly spent but undeniably amazing. 

“You did great.” Steve assured you as he took lotion into his hands and massaged the areas on your wrists and ankles where the ropes had been. He placed a gentle kiss on each palm when he was done and went to get you a glass of water. “Drink all of this.” 

You took the glass from his hands and drank deep. Appreciating the cool feeling of the water as it slid down the column of your throat, you didn’t realize how thirsty you had become. You finished the glass and handed it back to Steve, who placed it on one of his bedside tables. 

“Good girl.” He praised and you felt yourself blush in response. He noticed. “Do you like being praised, sweetheart?” 

“Yes Captain.” You nodded. 

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He replied as he helped you into one of his shirts and placed you underneath the covers. He rested beside you and wrapped you in his strong arms. “You did so well today for your first time. It wasn’t too much for you was it?” 

“No, I really liked it.” You reassured him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead with a promise to discuss it more after you slept some.

[csmeaner]

Design Shitting: Random Flushing Edition

Alright, yesterday was pretty heavy, so let’s try some good ol’ fashioned design shitting, eh?

Today we will be shitting on multiple different designs. Same rules, just a tasty little sampler to cleanse the palette for the week.

(Note: site is DA unless otherwise mentioned.)

Look, I get that scene is, ironically, in again in some circles. And it can be done well! This $40 Kit is, well, it had potential. Choose a smaller color palette with colors that are more harmonious and decide which kind of stripes you want to use. https://www.deviantart.com/kitvorenmasterlist/art/1133-917867291

why it got the little gary sea snail shell on its back too. colors just don’t change into each other well, especially on the tail. the amount of the black/white stripes on every little thing is fighting the other colors for what your eyes look at.

I like how Jolleraptors are trying to spread their wings a bit and make something other than hyper-chibi money wasters, but this is $600 for something that’s barely got a face and twinkle toes. I’m calling out the boring color palette as well because this wasn’t a custom. https://www.deviantart.com/jolleraptorhub/art/Rising-Fall-927643971

why is. the head so fucking tiny dawg. this is literally just a dragon with a tiny jolleraptor face. why are there only fucking two little leaves growing from its tail what the hell are those. those nubby little front arms are bad too it legit looks like a dragon with a birth defect. this is a lot of money and meaningless traits to get a lame dragon because that’s essentially what this is.

Someone paid $600 for this mess. I know CCCats don’t have faces, but they do have heads with a mouth, and this design makes it hard to find the mouth. The crowns droop, so you don’t even have that to go off of. The rendering on the body is horrendous. Just look for yourself. https://skire.club/Masterlist/Detailed?id=1150&species=CCCat&myo=False

this doesn’t even look like a cccat or really anything. it has a fucking sword which i guesss is cool?? but it feels they wanted to draw anything else BUT a cccat here. love/s the runway-esque spiked shoulderblades and hip fur that’s sticking out in random directions. it feels like vyrron was tired of drawing cccats but needed rent money

Tiny Grem head on big body with annoying-as-fuck markings. It’s a good idea in theory, but I really hate designs with a bunch of markings that you have to give a good think about if you want to render them properly in other poses. https://gremcorpsarpg.com/grem/3700

black and white with color so small on the tips you can’t even see it. squish its head like a grape

Oh boy, another generic kemonomimi species. At least this one isn’t white-washed and has neat-looking wings. But yay, boring ears, weird fucking tail. The poor bastard’s feet are practically pin points. Hey, be careful, Scarfox have that copyrighted. https://www.deviantart.com/sriho-san/art/Open-Auction-Wishwing-Desert-Shadows-928077039

the graphic for this one is honestly taking away massive points. hard to read the text, random distracting shit all over. THE FEET ARE WAY LONGER THAN YOU’D EXPECT

Speaking of Scarfox, I don’t know where this Kakiwa Scarfox came from, but it’s one of her worse Scarfoxes. I can’t quite put my finger on it. Something about the rendering is off-putting, along with how the legs seem to disappear because of the fairly abrupt transition from dark to light. https://www.scarfox-realm.com/character/Scarfox-666

oh it’s definitely something darci weaseled out of kakiwa as a private custom and you can tell kakiwa didn’t fucking care because the rendering is very very lackluster and not even close to the usual care kakiwa could pull off. but darci probably begged and whined and had money and kakiwa loves the money

[capriccio-con-espressione]

Teacher’s Day

（©GIF cred)

A/N: Happy birthday to our comedic meme material prince Hendery!😘 This is a re-upload from my old acc so I hope you guys enjoy! (P.S. Reuploaded again since the previous one failed to show up in tags)

Genre: Smut

Word Count: 3027

Warning:  Bratty Sub!Hendery, Dom!Reader, Femdom, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Profanity, Hair pulling, Spanking, Wedgie, Degradation, Anal play, Sex toys, Titty sucking/worshipping, Writing lines as punishment

  “How much longer?” Blindfolded Hendery whines while you are leading him to the designated room for his birthday playtime, but this impatient boy obviously can’t wait.

  “What is my surprise, to be exact?” The boy continues to inquire. “I hope I won’t be walking blindfolded for too much longer or I am starting to think that you are taking me to the slaughterhouse like I am a piglet!”

  “I’ll make sure your surprise is worth the wait if you stop being this inquisitive.” You stop your leading steps. “Seriously? A piglet? Can you not ruin the mood by goofing around and exaggerating things this much?”

  “Okay okay I am sorry.” Hendery playfully apologizes. “First asking me to wear the uniform from the Back to School Kit, second blindfolding me like this, I am really dying to know what it is!”

  “Shh be patient.” You smirk while finally leading him inside the room, instructing him to sit down in a chair. “Do you know what’s special about today?”

  “My birthday, of course! Why ask?” He asks, puzzled.

  “It’s also Teachers’ Day in Taiwan as well.” You half-whisper in his ear while taking off his blindfold. “So I’d better teach you some manners as well as something unforgettable on this day…”

  Hendery’s vision clears up as he glances around his surroundings: a blackboard with capitalized letters “DETENTION” written on it, a podium in the front left of the room, and several sets of desk and chairs arranged in neat rows while he’s seated in one of them, with a typical school bag hanging from the hook on the right side of his desk.

  “Wow this looks legit…” He compliments. “So this is why the school uniform?”

  You reply in a sly hum, picking up the 50-cm iron ruler originally leaning against the podium before approaching him. “I remember you mentioning role-play to spice up our sex life, so I figured this can be the peak of your birthday. You like that, my naughty schoolboy?” You smirk alluringly while tilting his chin up with the ruler.

  “Fuck yeah, this will be amazing…”

  You slam the ruler menacingly loud against his desk, startling him a bit. “Words, Hendery. No profanity allowed in this class. Aren’t you aware of the trouble you are in right now?” You motion toward the capitalized words on the blackboard.

  “Hmmm...I have no idea…” He feigns innocence in those bright piercing eyes, in an obvious attempt to annoy you.

  “Such an impudent lad. You are in detention because you don’t hand in assignments on time, slacking off in your studies, and last but not least, bad-mouthing your teacher.” You close in on him while maintaining a glare. “Are you sorry for what you did?”

  “No, y/n-”

  “How dare you call me by my first name?”

  “Look, Miss Y/L/N I don’t really care. I am a very busy guy and you are just wasting my time.” He grins cheekily. “I am going to miss my club practice. I promise I will do better, so can’t you just let it go this time?”

  “I don’t trust your empty promises, Hendery, especially this isn’t the first time you let me down.” You cross your arms. “And you shouldn’t be allowed any club activities since you fail to prioritize things correctly. You should sit here, properly complete the assignments you have missed under my supervision, and you are free to go after that. It’s that simple.”

  “Why are you giving me such a hard time, Miss?”

  “I am not being hard and unreasonable on you, all I am asking you to do is something that aids your learning and done by the rest of your peers, plus, you won’t know what your problems with learning are without these practices.” You sigh while taking out the workbook from the schoolbag and place it right in front of him. “Now stop complaining and do it.” You order as you sit down next to him.

  Hendery huffs and reluctantly flips through the book to find the marked pages for this session. “20 pages of mathematics with 30 questions on each one? Are you insane?”

  “This is the accumulated result of your indolence, boy. And you sure it’s appropriate to call your teacher insane?”

  “Right right I am so sorry Miss-” 

  “Apologize properly.” You grab his arm to get all his attention, starting to get sick of his dismissive attitude and playing nice with him.

  “I am really sorry that I called you insane, Miss Y/L/N...” His voice trails off at the end of the sentence while he diverts his attention to the questions in front of him again.

  You watch him scribble down answers on the pages intently to see his every move, so when his arm scoots suspiciously close to the corner of the page where he’s writing something, you immediately take notice of it.

  You abruptly stand up and snatch away the book from him with a strong force, making his eyes widen with disbelief. “‘Miss Y/L/N is an annoying bitch’? This is what I get after being this patient and communicative with you?” You continue to read the contents of the page. “And none of the answers are correct! You are really giving me attitude, huh?”

  “Why should I listen to you when you’re such a pain in my ass?”

  “Pain in my ass isn’t it? Now I should really inflict some real pain on your ass.” He yelps as you yank him by his hair, forcing him to stand up. “Bend over.”

  Hendery winces at the burning sensation on his scalp as he complies, then you let go and press his waist down firmly against the desk as your other arm immediately delivers a sharp blow on his bottom.

  “Apologize.” You order sternly after a dozen spanks.

  “Never.” He retorts with a grunt.

  “Such a shameless brat.” You muse while pulling down his trousers, then pull up his boxers between his cheeks and give a firm tug on it, causing him to whine in discomfort.

  “Still unapologetic?” You sneer before giving a harsh slap on his bare flesh.

  “Please stop...Miss...and I am really sorry…”

  “Sorry for what?”

  “I-I am sorry for disrespecting you!”

  “Then? What about your horrible work on your assignment?” You resume spanking him again.

  “Mmmf- I am sorry for messing up my homework! Please stop wedging me I beg you, Miss.”

  You snigger at his plead and how easy it is to break him, but still you aren’t satisfied. “Combine your apologies into a sentence together and I will consider, and you’d better be earnest enough.”

  “Ahh-I apologize sincerely for calling you bad names, a-and slacking off in my studies then failing to do my homework properly! Please Miss I feel so guilty right now…” He whimpers and shifts his butt, trying to minimize the soreness.

  “Very well.” You decide not to be too hard on him at first to save it for later and release the fabric. Hendery sighs in relief, only to experience a similar mishap soon after again. 

  “You forgot to thank me, you poor-mannered lad.” You smirk at his misfortune, tweaking the clothing harder than last time, feeling amused that your boyfriend always falls into this trap by forgetting to express his gratitude when you just decide to have a little mercy on him.

  “P-please Miss I am sorry for not remembering to thank you...ahhh…please I’ll be good...just spare me some mercy please…”

  “How should I believe that you will have the brain to remember such basic manners next time, you airhead?”

  “I-I will endure whatever it takes for you to believe in me, Miss. I am truly sorry…”

  “Whatever, huh?” You mock his tone while shoving both his undergarments down his ankles. “You are going to take a sound spanking. Better remember to count out every spank and thank me afterward. Is that clear?” 

  “Yes, Miss. I won’t forget it this time.”

  You swing the ruler in the air, warming your arm up, before striking his bare bottom.

  “One! Th-thank you, Miss.”

  You smack him again, but harder this time.

  “Two! Ahh-thank you, Miss.” He kicks his legs, but only to find them restrained with his garments, which just excites him more.

  You then continue to mercilessly redden his ass, interspersing the punishment with some sensual soothing rubs in between to prepare him for the sting and arouse him, and remain the same dynamic and rhythm until the twentieth spank, when you suddenly pick up the pace and inflict him with four consecutive blows.

  “Twenty-one, twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four. Hnngh-thank you, Miss…” His voice falters.

  “See? You are not that bad at calculating. Why did you mess up your math homework that much then?” You ask before smacking him for the twenty-fifth time.

  “Twenty-five...thank you, Miss. I am sorry that I deliberately screwed up because I am just a defiant brat!”

  “Then you promise to do your best in your work in the future?” You inquire, amused by his admittance while continuing his punishment.

  “I will...I promise I won’t let you down ever again, Miss.” He assures you after counting out and thanking you.

  “You promise you will be a pliant pupil that listens well to his teacher?”

  “Ah-twenty-seven, thank you, Miss. I promise I will listen to you and obey you like a good student should do.”

  “Very well. So you should never violate any school rules again, right?” You foreshadow what the plot of your session will lead, before whipping him for the last time.

  “Twenty-eight...thank you, Miss. I promise I will abide by the rules.” He replies obediently, oblivious about the whole thing since it’s arranged as a surprise event.

  “Good boy.” You praise before caressing his sore butt, brushing his inner thighs from time to time as he moans at your sensual touches. “You didn’t just miss out on math, but other subjects as well. Should I take out the other study materials for you so that you have an overall understanding of what you should do?”

  “Yes, please. Thank you, Miss Y/L/N. May I sit down now?”

  “Just a minute…” You reply, searching through the schoolbag while taking your mischievous plan to work. “What are these doing in your bag, Hendery?” You demand sternly, laying two objects in front of him.

  Hendery becomes speechless at the sight of the large, rounded realistic silicone boobs and the veiny, ridgy dildo.

  “Care to explain what this is for?” You deliberately ask while pointing at the tits. Excitement boils inside you as you expect his answer.

  “This…is to fuck myself between them.” He shamelessly responds, with a devilish grin and a twitching dick, indicating his liking toward this turn of the plot.

  “How about this?” You motion at the dildo.

  “This is what I use to get a hot girl like you to fuck me to paradise…” He smirks dreamily, thinking of what you will do to him with it as you smirk at his sudden compliment.

  “Now I see the main reason that your grades are slipping. You are not only unwilling to study hard, but also you are a lecherous slut! You should know well porno stuff is obviously prohibited in school, but I remember you promising me that you will not break any rule just now?”

  “It was too late then, I already brought them before promising you.”

  “That still doesn’t justify your behavior. You should be punished again. Remember you saying that you will obey me?” You grin knowingly as you lightly patted the ruler against your palm.

  “Yes, Miss. Please punish me all you want as long as you won’t tell the authorities.”

  You simper at his literal beg to get punished. “Why should I report you to my superiors,” You position the fake boobs right under his face, “when I can have all the fun and enjoy the little show myself?” You tap the ruler against his ass once again. “Now suck it just like what you will do to your dream girl, filthy boy whore. You may not be the best at your studies, but you’d better not disappoint me with this.”

  Hendery happily commences engulfing the artificial mound while grimacing at the blooming tingle on his behind. The lewd sounds of him greedily slurping and lapping on the toy, the sight of his body squirming under your punitive ruler, and the corruptive contrast of his aristocratic profile doing the most sordid thing ever, all turn you on with the growing need for him to pleasure you.

  “Are you wiggling your naughty ass just to direct me to hit where you crave the pain the most, you seamy little slutboy?” You comment on his writhing backside as he nods in affirmation while continuing servicing the tits.

  “Perhaps you will love it when I abuse you here, right?” You wickedly tuck the ruler between his cheeks, earning a moan from him.

  “Would you like sucking real tits, or maybe you just prefer fawning over silicones?” You sneer, knowing the answer too well as you rub the ruler on his rear entrance.

  “I love real beautiful boobs more, of course, especially those of yours, Miss…” Hendery replies through moans, finally looking up at you from the saliva-covered toy while not forgetting to flatter you.

  “Hmm you finally know how to properly treat your teacher now, huh?” You remark as you unbutton your blouse then free your boobs from the lacy cups. “Worship them.”

  Hendery starts sucking on your breast after an admiring stare. “Since you’ve got your mouth worked up, I think I should stuff your other orifice too…” You say while coating both his ass, your fingers and the dildo with profuse lube. After gradually adding fingers to stretch him wide enough, you begin to slam into his needy prostate with the dildo, savoring the feeling of his wetness and vibrations coating your sensitive areas as well.

  Both his hands grab and fondle the base of your boobs for support as his knees buckle a little at the sensation deep inside his behind. You tangle the fingers of your free hand into his hair, forcing him to make eye contact with you with a firm tug.

  “Why do you turn to sex toys and risk bringing them to school, while your teacher is here to counsel you with both your studies and insatiable needs?”

  “B-because I want you to f-fuck and punish me for being a slut…” He flicks his tongue on your erect nipple after replying.

  “Is this why you got yourself in detention in the first place? Acting bratty in hopes of the opportunity to get some sexy discipline?”

  “Mmm yeah…” Your “student” that used to be so deviant is now moaning mindlessly between pants and sucking while looking up at you so lovingly yet indecently, urging you to ram his ass even harder and faster. Blissful tears start to stream out of his lust-filled eyes as you shove his uniform jacket down below his shoulders, loosen his tie then undo his first few upper buttons to turn him into a disheveled mess even more. Seeing him rendered to a state like this plus the stimuli on your nipples cause your core to drip with satisfying needs.

  “Such a messy needy baby...do you want to cum?” You coo as he quickly nods in response.

  “Then will you manage your time well and complete your assignment properly?”

  “...Yes, I will, Miss.”

  “Will you be respectful to your teacher from now on?”

  “Mmm of course I will, especially to my favorite teacher…”

  “Last but not least, will you turn to your teacher for help when necessary instead of wanking with stupid toys?”

  “Definitely, because my teacher feels so much better…”

  “Good. Now you are allowed to cum as much as you want.” 

  Hendery cums after muttering some gratitude, not forgetting his manners this time. You indulge in a slow sensual kiss with him afterward, drawing him out of the orgasmic haze while whispering some praises to him, slowly guiding him back to his senses as well as doing a quick clean-up of body fluids.

  “Did you know you just came with your dick completely untouched?” You playfully taunt.

  “I know you are that good…” He sheepishly grins at you.

  “Now one more thing for you to do as a reminder to always be a good boy.” You gesture toward the blackboard. “Write 28 repeated lines of ‘I will respect my teacher at all times’.”

  “Sure.” He quickly answers while reaching down to pull up his trousers.

  “Did I give you permission to re-dress?” You disapprovingly question.

  “No, Miss…” He slightly blushes. “But it’s so embarrassing…” He mutters in protest while wobbling toward the board. covering himself.

  “That’s the purpose of this punishment, making you so humiliated and disheveled that you will never forget your lesson.”

   Hendery sighs while picking up the chalk, and starts scribbling down the requested line. The first ten lines look passable but after that, his writing begins to get sloppy.

  “Rewrite this.” You erase the line that you deem intolerable.

  “But-”

  “No ‘buts’, unless you want some thrashing again.”

  Your schoolboy groans but still has no choice but to comply, peeking at the board eraser in your hand while making efforts to win your approval. Finally, he reaches the 28th line without the need for you to demand him to rewrite anything.

  “Well done, that’s my good boy.” You continue to compliment his obedience and hard work, embracing him while massaging some cool lotion into his still rosy ass, before helping him to re-dress.

  “Do you like my way of discipline?”

  “A lot. But you hit me so hard…” He jokingly glares before nuzzling against the crook of your neck, planting some wet kisses on it.

  “I am already giving you enough privilege to suck my tits for this long, so be grateful.” He whines in response upon hearing this but holds on you even tighter, while subtly grinding against your chest.

  “Happy birthday.” You utter affectionately, completely immersed in the intimacy while sensing his gorgeous features beaming in return.

  “Happy Teacher’s Day.”

[writeyourownlifestory]

L-I-G-H-T-S U-P

Chapters: 2/20 Fandom: IT Rating: M Warnings: No warnings at this time Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Beverly Marsh/Ben Hanscom Additional Tags: PunkRocker!Eddie, Writer!Richie, Beveddie!Friendship, No Clown Written by: myself & @ahardlife​ Tag list: @richietoaster, @beproudtozier, @that-weird-girls-blog, @s-onora, @s-s-georgie, @bellarosewrites, @iamcupcakefrosting, @reddieonwheels, @ghostnebula, @madidraw @madi-main, @gazebobullshit, @thoughtfullyyoungduck​

Puff piece writer Richie Tozier is given the chance of a lifetime to interview his celebrity crush: Dr. K, the lead singer of punk rock band, Trashmouth. Dr. K is about to release his first solo album and Richie wants to get all the dirty details. But all is not what it appears to be and the two realize they know each other from a different time, in a different place, when they were both very different people.

Chapter one can be found here

So Hot You’re Hurting My Feelings - Caroline Polachek

I get a little lonely Get a little more close to me You're the only one who knows me, babe So hot, you're hurtin' my feelings (woo) Can't deal

Richie had very little idea what he was supposed to be doing.

Okay, correction, he had a decent idea. It was a simple interview. Ask a couple of questions, hopefully, get a couple of answers. It wasn’t being filmed nor were they doing something dumb to pass the time. Just a simple sit down with a punk rock legend in the making.

Richie had written down almost a hundred questions, half of which he wanted to scrape because they just seemed so generic and boring. This might have been just a stereotypical interview but the person of interest was anything but typical.

Dr. K had changed things for the better in the music industry. He didn’t stick to social norms, but he also didn’t jam his uniqueness down your throat. If you wanted to see him, you would see him. If you didn’t want to pay him any mind, that was fine too. Dr. K had said on more than one occasion that he wasn’t there to entertain the small minds of the world. The people who would see him would see him and those who heard him would listen.

Richie listened very clearly. Almost nightly. He wasn’t lying when he told Bill he had seen them sixteen times in the past eight years. From small dingy bars deep in the city to the biggest venues the state had to offer. Richie had been there for it all, cheering on this amazing band and buying up their merch to boot.

Richie thought about wearing one of their shirts, but he didn’t want to come on too strong. He stuck with his regular business attire, making sure that nothing was too wrinkled or had a strange mess to it.

He thought about doing something with his hair until he finally snapped himself out of this little fantasy he had going on inside his head. This wasn’t a blind date; wasn’t some matchmaking at the hands of Bill. This was a serious business and Richie had to take it seriously.

Richie was gangly, with wavy hair and thick glasses. Sure, some guys found him to be cute, but he gave credit to his charming personality. He put on a mask to get by but in reality, he was just a lonely guy who didn’t know where he belonged.

So when the day came, he told himself just to relax because nothing would come from this. There wasn’t going to be a magical spark between the two. He wasn’t going to let go of his career and start touring with Dr. K as his personal assistant slash roadie slash groupie.

He was just a guy interviewing for his place of work and Richie reminded himself that repeatedly as he arrived at the location Bill gave him. Red Balloon records were serious business that only took on the best of the best. Richie gave his name and flashed the pass that he always kept on him from Paper Boats just to show he was legit.

He was sent up automatically and was practically buzzing in the elevator up. When he arrived at the top, a red-headed woman greeted him, offering a polite smile as they walked through the hall. She was dressed smartly in a suit of her own, high up against her neck and tight at the waist. She offered a quick handshake before they got moving.

“Beverly Marsh. You’re a little early, but that’s all right. K likes punctual people.” She revealed.

“Figured it would be better to be early than late.”

“Better late than never as they say,” Beverly commented with a knowing smile. “I hope you have something good to ask him.”

“Way to put the pressure on,” Richie muttered, following close behind her. “I tried to choose questions he hadn’t already been asked before, but there are only so many non-generic questions out there. I’m sure he’ll be asked the same bullshit by the other magazines.”

“Dr. K isn’t doing any other magazine interviews. He’s agreed to only speak to a Paper Boat representative. You, specifically.”

“What? You’re kidding.” It wasn’t unheard of for a celeb to only speak to one news outlet, but for him to choose to only speak to PB when he had so much to release seemed a bit out there. Richie wondered if Bill had worked his magic on Dr. K’s people and convinced them to sell the story to Paper Boat and only Paper Boat.

“You’ll be the only so I certainly hope you make it worth his while.”

“No pressure there,” Richie muttered, adjusting his glasses nervously.

“Don’t be worried. Dr. K is very easy going. Just don’t make this into a big deal.”

Richie snorted, giving the redhead a quick side look. “Right. Speaking to a premature rock God. It's no big deal.”

Beverly chuckled, stopping outside one of the doors. “He isn’t a God. He’s just a guy with a lot of talent.”

“Here I thought the lead singer of a punk rock band would want to surround himself with people who stroke his ego.”

Beverly shrugged, reaching for the doorknob. “He’s not the lead singer of a band anymore. And K doesn’t surround himself with anybody he doesn’t want around. Constantly hearing how wonderful you are can be pretty boring, don’t you think?” Opening the door, Beverly gesturing inside. “He’ll be with you in just a moment.”

The room was empty but set up comfortably. There was a small bar with drinks and a table of snacks set up. Caramel popcorn and peanut M&Ms filled up the bowls. Richie grabbed a couple of candies, tossing them in the air and catching them. He walked around, admiring the room. It had that vintage rock and roll vibe to it. Vinyl along the brick walls and posters of all the bands the record label signed over the year.

Sitting in a cooler were glass soda bottles and Richie lifted one, searching for a bottle opener only to come up empty. Shrugging, he brought the bottle to his mouth, hoping to open it with his teeth the way he used to in college, but that proved futile. He was older and his teeth weren’t as strong as they used to be.

“It’s a twist-off,” A voice from behind him said.

Richie turned and the bottle nearly slipped through his fingers as his eyes settled on the new person in the room.

It was him, his morning glory.

Dr. K.

He looked exactly like Richie hoped he would. Utterly gorgeous.

He wasn’t dolled up in eyeliner or hair gel the way he would if he was on stage or dressed in the best designers for a photoshoot, but he still looked too good to be true. Dark jeans with a dark jacket, a Ramones tee shirt hugging his toned body. His skin was pale, showing off every mark and freckle he had to offer.

His hair was shorter now; another shock vibing out through the music world. First Trashmouth loses their lead and then the lead loses his hair. Richie didn’t mind it though. The shorter cut framed Dr. K’s face ever so perfectly.

He was absolutely gorgeous and Richie felt like he was a six-foot tall garbage can on fire just standing in the same room with him.

Richie watched as Dr. K came forward, going to grab a bottle out of the cooler. He twisted it open with ease, offering it to Richie to switch out with the unopened one he was holding. Richie took it, still not saying a word as he watched the other man open a second bottle for himself and begin to drink it.

“What? Disappointed it’s not beer?” Dr. K asked him curiously.

“It’s ten in the morning,” Richie mentioned.

Dr. K shrugged off, sipping slowly at his drink. “As they say: it’s five o’clock somewhere.” He mentioned, taking another swig of the soda bottle. “So. You’re him, huh?” He asked, looking him up and down slowly.

A tickle of nerves ran along Richie’s back and after nearly spitting out his sip, he placed the bottle down beside him. “Yes. Hi. Richard Tozier; representative of Paper Boat magazine.” He stuck his hand out, offering a shake.

He wanted to be professional, but he wondered if that came off lame. Lame was the last thing he wanted because anything that wasn’t punk or rock and roll was incredibly lame.

And Richie was very sure if he looked lame in front of Dr. K he would throw himself in front of a moving train.

Luckily for him, Dr. K didn’t seem to mind. He offered a polite smile and reached out to shake his hand. His shake was tight and simple, though Dr. K did linger a bit longer than expected.

“So, shall the interview begin?” He offered, gesturing over to the couch across the way.

Richie scrambled to take his seat, wanting to make room for everything that was begging to come out of his mouth.

“First I just want to say thank you for allowing us to do this. I know you aren’t a very public person so to be able to do a one on one with you is truly an honor.”

“People are hungry. Might as well feed them.” Dr. K replied slowly.

“Right. Okay. So a solo album. Why now?”

“Why not now?”

“Right, okay. Great answer.” Richie cliched his pen and began writing that down. “So the album. Do you have a title for it yet?”

“We have a few things bouncing around but nothing has been decided yet.”

“And it’s all original work that you’ve written on your own?”

“Oh, the contrary; my first big solo album will be a complete list of some of my favorite songs already in creation.”

Richie pauses, looking up. “So a cover album?” He questioned, pushing his glasses up. “Why? I only ask because you’re an amazing songwriter! Surely you can make a whole album up on your own.”

“Your flattery is charming. And I have many ideas for songs but there are already so many songs out there and I want to lend my own voice and specific style to them.” Dr. K paused, smiling then. “And don’t call me Shirley.”

“Dr. K gets off with a zinger! Impressive.” Richie scribbled everything down, leaning back in the chair as he grew more comfortable. “Okay so. Cover album. Do I get to know any of the songs?”

“It will be between fifteen and twenty. We’re still narrowing it down.”

“That’s quite a lot. Any particular reason?”

“I’m greedy.” Dr. K shrugged, sipping slowly at his bottle.

Richie focused his eyes on the pad in his hands instead of on the bottle that Dr. K had his mouth wrapped around.

“I will say each song has been chosen by me personally. Little ditties that touched me in one way or another during my life; going all the way back to my childhood to now.”

“Do you have a favorite?”

“I do, though I can’t say without revealing anything.”

“What about in general?” Richie inquires. “Come on. Even a rockstar has to have a favorite song.”

Eddie smiled softly, almost dismissively. Richie thought he was going to ignore the question or request a skip, but instead, Richie would himself getting the answer.

“Clock strikes upon the hour and the sun begins to fade. Still enough time to figure out how to chase my blues away. I've done alright up to now, it's the light of day that shows me how. And when the night falls, loneliness calls….”

Richie blinked, his mind desperately trying to get past the fact that Dr. K just sang to him to recognize the song.

“I Wanna Dance With Somebody?” He asked aloud, his eyes squinting behind his glasses. “Your favorite song is by Whitney Houston?”

“Are you not a fan?”

“What? No, it’s not that! Whitney was iconic. Rest In Peace Queen, but I just meant. It’s surprising! Especially for somebody with your record.”

“Even rockstars can have a soft spot for a good pop song,” Eddie told him with a small smile.

Richie, having found himself staring, scrambling to write everything down. He paused, collecting his thoughts so he could wrap this up. He didn’t want to leave yet but he didn’t want to take up any more of Dr. K’s time.

“Why now?” He asked suddenly. “Why go solo now?”

“My bandmates have lives of their own. Wives. Children. I have neither. Besides, I lived my life doing what people expected of me. Thought I’d have fun and throw a wrench in their plan for me.”

A knock on the door came. After a few seconds, Beverly opened, sticking her fiery redhead inside. “K, I’m sorry to interrupt but Stanley is on the phone. Legal mumbo-jumbo.”

“Duty calls.” Dr. K sighed, standing slowly from the couch. Realizing the interview was cover, Richie stood as well, shoving everything back into his bag. Dr. K didn’t move right away. He stood in front of Richie, that same damn smile across his lips.

“Thank you. Really. Having this chance had been a total career changer.” He mentioned to him, pausing just before they could separate.

Richie always took his job seriously but come on, how detailed could you get about something when the story you were writing was on giant chocolate chip cookies or watching celebs balance pies on their heads? This was the first legitimate of Richie’s career and he was incredibly grateful for the chance.

“Do you think I could bother you for a picture? I know it’s super unprofessional, but you’re like my idol.”

Dr. K laughed then. Not mockingly, but rather with surprise. There was a glimmer in his eyes Richie couldn’t recognize, though he didn’t get the chance to question it as Dr. K came to his side in moments.

Richie scrambled to grab his phone, holding it out so he could capture both of them. They smiled wide, standing beside one another closely as the picture was taken. Richie was definitely going to make that his lock screen the moment he got home.

He offered his hand, one final shake and Dr. K took it without question. “It was nice to see you again, Richie.” He said, giving the hand one last squeeze before Beverly ushered him out.

Richie stood there, offering a lame wave as he was left alone in the room. A solid minute passed before Dr. K’s words repeated in his head.

Nice to see you again? What the fuck?

[giftcardsgenerator-blog]

The Ultimate Guide to Gift Card Generators

There is hardly someone who doesn’t like gifts. The modernization has impacted the age old traditional way of gifts as well. These days more and more people are opting for gift cards and digital codes.

With e-commerce giants such as Amazon etc. in the picture, gift cards are a mainstream thing now. As a matter of fact, companies like Amazon also keep on hosting quizzes and such wherein the winners get the opportunity to earn free gift card codes.

A recent survey reported that gift card spending will touch 84 billion by 2024. The gift card industry globally has seen penetration into categories like matrimony and eatables in recent time, and with the growing usage of smartphone, the digital payment industry is at the forefront of the consumer adoption revolution.

And, with the boom in purchase of gift cards, most companies that sell online have started following the trends and keep offering gift card prizes to build customer loyalty and retention.

Advantages of Gift Cards

Using gift cards means you don’t have to use your credit card. This is obviously very convenient for those who don’t have a credit card and for those who don’t want to give their credit card details to Apple/PlayStation/Xbox or another retailer (Xbox for instance will automatically charge your credit card when your memberships finishes unless you turn this option off).

You can give these digital codes as presents very easily (like forwarding an email with the code in it) making them a great present for anyone i.e. don’t worry shopping for people, just send them a gift-card on their email and they will choose whatever they want for themselves! Easy isn't it?

Control your spending. You’ll be surprised how many horror stories there are about overspending with credit cards. With gift-cards you don’t have to worry about this, keep your credit card away from your children and control how much money they can spend online shopping by sending them gift-cards instead. Also, in case you yourself have a bit of a spending problem, you can at least create a monthly budget by buying a fixed amount of credit at the begging of each month and never going over it (easier done with gift-cards than credit cards)

These codes don’t expire so you can be sure all the credit you don’t spend will stay in your Sony/Microsoft/Steam account until you are ready to use it. In our opinion, Gift Cards are surely worth buying. Be it any event, it is very difficult to decide what should we gift to our loved ones. Also, today people are living at faraway places from one another, hence sending a gift does not really make any sense.

Reasons why People prefer to give Gift Cards:

·         Need for practicality with gifting

·         Need for emotional component while gifting

·         Forgetting what to buy as gifts, hence opting gift cards

·         Busy Life

·         Get a Meaningful gift

·         83% of Companies use Gift Cards as Employee Incentives

Free Gift Cards Generator

Now, there are two ways to get gift cards – the free and the paid way. There are numerous gift cards generator websites on the Internet. There are a lot of ways to get free gift card codes, but what we should admit is actually they don’t give it away for free. But there are some sites that give them as a prize after doing something for them.

Even though there are hundreds of free gift card generators online and few spam websites include, there is one place you can get the most authentic premium digital gift cards for free, which is https://giftcardprizes.com/giftcards/. In here you can find, more than thousands of gift cards and coupon codes for all those premium apps in the play store and app store.

Here you can get all those -

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How do Gift Card Prizes Work?

There are a few ways to answer this question -- how do gift cards work from a consumer perspective (what are you really giving/getting, how are they redeemed, etc.), how do they work from an economic perspective (why do companies issue gift cards, how do they make money on them, etc.), and how do gift cards work from an industry perspective (who are the vendors, who makes the plastic gift cards, how are they distributed, etc.).

With a merchant point-of-view, gift card can be an economic reason. For him it’s like selling gift coupons to his customers as some discount coupons on the products they purchased from the stores.

So in essence what is a gift card? It's an amount of value -- determined by the purchaser of the gift card -- and given to a recipient. A gift card is charged (funds added) by basically adding (storing) the amount to a database in the background. Usually a third-party centralized system designed for this purpose.

A new gift card is inactive, even if it has a dollar amount printed on it. You need to activate it and add funds to it. It cannot be used otherwise. This information is NOT stored on the card itself; but in a back end system that is dialled to verify the gift card transaction. Much like making a purchase with a debit card or credit card; your card number is in your hand, but approvals are verified elsewhere.

The pros of a gift card:

·         It's easy to give - there's a reason that the "person that has everything" often gets a gift card!

·         It's allows choice - a gift card lets the recipient have some control over the exact thing they get

·         It's flexible - you can spend anywhere from $5 (in some cards) to $1000 on a gift card.

We hope that this article clears all your queries related to free gift card codes. Still thinking twice? Go try the gift cards generator and spread some happiness around.

[italicwatches]

Megalobox - Episode 12

Right now, we need to put the polls out of our mind. And we do that with our fists. It’s Megalobox, episode 12! Here we GO!

-Yukiko’s signing a big deal for the company…At least, if Yuri actually wins his big match. After the signing, she and Yuri are celebrating…But of course, there’s big questions looming. If this is going to work. If the potential of Gear to do so much more than just boxing will be realized. They could change the world, Yuri!

-Yuri’s going to have his Gear removed.

-Pardon?

-He wants…needs, to fight Joe on an equal battle. Man to man. Just muscles and will. It’s the only way.

-Opening!

-Yukiko’s boggled. Integrated Gear is a one-way deal. Having it removed is absurdly dangerous, the sort of thing you’re only supposed to do in a medical emergency. But Yuri’s resolute.

-She’ll, she’ll have the finals canceled! She won’t allow you to risk it—

-NO. He won’t allow you to disrespect the ring like that. Not after a man put his life on the line to get there with nothing but his wits. …He’s not coming back to this office.

-What happened to their dream, Yuri…?

-It’s your dream, now.

-The doors shut, on Yukiko’s impotent rage…And then it’s a hard cut to Joe’s rather more potent rage, as he tries to burn off his frustration and tension and everything else on the bags. What happened to Nanbu. His chance to finally fight Yuri right. The stakes of this big final match. What it could mean for him if he wins…And what it will mean for everyone else if he fails. It’s…All of it’s a lot.

-But he’s not going at it alone, either. Because he’s joined by Aragaki and the caretaker. Nanbu called them to help him train. Aragaki’s going to help him spar against someone who can keep up better than a bag.

-So it’s into the ring. Both men wish they could’ve gotten to finish their fight legit, one way or the other…And so they’re both at it, practicing and working, as Nanbu and the caretaker talk. To think of how far they’ve all come…How different things were not that long ago…And how hard they’ve all fought, how much they’ve all lost, to get here.

-Miles away, Mikio’s at his swank-ass cabin…When Yuri shows up. It’s a place Mikio’s been working on, his home away from home…Or maybe just home, now. A place where he can be alone. No Shirato company, no legacy, no worry. No Shirato Mikio, just plain old Mikio.

-But of course, he’s still Mikio. And he’s set up a little lab in the cabin’s basement. A lab…And a medical facility. He can disconnect the integrated Gear. Doing this is dangerous, of course, risky…But Yuri’s not hesitating. They’ve all put everything on the line for this final match. You with developing Ace. Joe with going in Gearless. And now…Him. It’s time to pay his due.

-That night, Yukiko’s lost in thought out on the roads…As she remembers Joe, Junk Dog, challenging Yuri so long ago. It flashes in her mind, in her eyes, as for a moment she swears she can change it, can call out to Yuri, can keep him from being swept up by this dog and led astray…

-Then it’s over. And her cell’s ringing with a number that has no caller ID, an ancient-ass landline.

-A call that takes her to the cabin, to see Yuri out cold and Gearless. Mikio’s surgery was a flawless success, but Yukiko can only see the way he’s throwing away the future over some ridiculous pride. She’s going to cancel the finals. She will not have the final match, the proving grounds of Megalo Box, the place where Gear is pushed to its limits, fought by two men going Gearless.

-Mikio just reminds her how much pain Yuri’s gonna be in when he wakes up. How much he’s gone through. Are you going to deny him now, of all times…?

-Megalobox, Round 12. Leap Over the Edge of DEATH

-Back in Yukiko’s office, she’s looking up all the real info on the men she’s dealing with. The ID, stolen from Sachio when it slipped free, is counterfeit. The name Joe, an alias. The only thing they can say for sure is he’s an illegal citizen, with no right in their ring.

-But…He’s got it where it counts. He did all this to fight honestly. And for the first time in far too long…Yukiko doesn’t know what to do. All she can ask is to keep all of this under wraps, from everyone, until she makes the call.

-Back under the bridge. Joe’s working his ass off with Aragaki, while Nanbu flashes back, remembering where he found the kid…

-In the pits. Below the pits. Junk Dog…No, he didn’t even have that name, yet. He was less than a dog, less than the races and so far below underground Megalo Box. He was a bare knuckled brawler, getting into scraps for pocket money with just some hand wraps. Nanbu found this nameless scrapper, and pulled him out of those depths…

-Back in the Now, Nanbu calls out to Joe. You’re not stepping through with your punches! How the hell can you…

-He can hear it. Your impacts have about as much force as a cow fart. Now get your weight even again, and lock in those punches!

-Eventually, it’s late as hell, everyone’s done. Joe’s looking over Sachio’s recording of his practices, the kids are scraping together a big ol’ pot of stew, and Aragaki just…Watches. Sees the team, the family, that has forged themselves here. …They might just be able to do it. Joe might be able to beat Yuri.

-Speaking of Yuri, he’s…

-Uh…

-How do I put this gently…

-In screaming agony locked in a sealed room so he doesn’t kill anyone or himself in a pain induced rage.

-Listen that was about as gentle as it gets. It’s not just his body that’s screaming at him, it’s his mind. The integrated Gear works based on hooking directly into the nervous system, into introducing new data into the backstage of the mind. Yuri’s head is screaming at him that he’s missing limbs, that he’s missing his body.

-Eventually he’s just lost in his own skull, in a fugue state as he feels his body burst into flame, into molten rock as he burns up from the inside and turns to ash…!

-And when Yukiko gets there…He’s been in that state for five, days. Can’t they do anything?! Can’t YOU do anything?!

-Mikio could absolutely do something. He’s got the injector right here, full of the same little cocktail he used when overdoing it in Ace. All he’s got to do is pop it into Yuri’s neck, and ping, guy’s settled. But Yuri said no. Refused it outright. Said he didn’t deserve to fight Joe if he couldn’t get through the pain the old fashioned away.

-So here they are. You want to try? See if you can convince him to take the dose? Key to the door’s right there.

-She gets in there, and finds him half conscious…She cradles Yuri in her arms, and begs him to let her take him out of there. To get it all reattached, and keep chasing the future. To stand together again.

-He manages to stir, and he’s got enough of his wits to recognize her and his situation…To tell her about the long ago, before she knew him. When he was first getting into boxing. His first trainer said, if he ever met the kind of fighter that he wanted, truly, to fight and to try and beat, to push himself to face, that it would be blessing. One to cherish, and one to never let go…

-Yukiko. You gave him a reason to live. But this…This is his reason to fight. You can’t take that away…Not now…Please.

-Eventually, morning comes. Yukiko stirs on the shitty couch in this cabin, and there’s no more screaming. Yuri’s mind has finally rebooted. And he’s moving like his old self…The self she saw in that gym so long ago, the man whose body glistened with the sweat of hard work and made him look like some muscle-bishonen…

-Her grandfather was still the president, and introduced his granddaughter to his prize fighter. He saw them both as the future of the company’s designs, even then…

-In the Now, after watching for a time, Yukiko takes her leave…Maybe things will change. But for right now…She has no place here. Her company is seeking the future of Gear, and a man with none on his back is no part of it. …Treat him well, brother. He deserves it.

-Down by the bridge, Joe’s taking a nice long swim in the river. Shouldn’t you be training? Nah, not this close. Against a man like Yuri, he’ll get his most benefit just by clearing his head and cooling his nerves. Now come on, Sachio, get your ass in the water and enjoy yourself!

-But that’s when they both spot Yukiko…She’s come to return Joe’s fraudulent ID. And? And…That’s all. If anyone’s earned the right to keep this, it’s you. You sure about this, when he’s punching your fancy champion’s teeth in?

-He’s not her champion anymore. Yuri had the Gear removed.

-HE WHAT

-He wanted a real fight. An even match. He’s just another bare-knuckled boxer, now. Just so you know what you’re in for.

-And then she’s gone, leaving Joe to realize…That changes thing. Now he’s got a true fire burning in him, as he shadow boxes late into the night, against the song the people will sing of their final bout…Whatever’s coming? Whoever will walk out of that ring?

-They’re, gonna, make, history. The world of boxing will never be the same after this. And every last soul watching the lead with baited breath, knows it.

-Credits.

OH SHIT MY DUDES

[calmcal]

adventures in babysitting

adventures in babysitting series { 001 out of ??? }

masterlist

Summary: you and steve fall into a babysitting job for mike, dustin, lucas, max, will and eleven. but things never seem to be easy. prepare to have adventures no babysitter would ever dream of doing.

Paring: steve harrington X insert reader { female }

Requested: no

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: language maybe ?

Author Note: i am legit so excited for this series. i watched adventures of babysitting recently, great movie i recommend everyone to watch it, but i just thought about how this would make the best series for steve and the hawkins kids, so here you go ! this is short for a first chapter, but trust me they will get longer.

also if you want to be tagged in this series all you have to do is ask, and you shall receive :) let me know what you think !

you laid flat out on your stomach, the feeling of your soft pale blue comforter under you, your flipped through a magazine. eyes wandering over the small print, the coloured pages were fraying at the sides, it had seen better days. the atmosphere around you was lazy, and still. it was a nice change from the normally hectic life you led.

you were a babysitter. nothing should be hectic about watching over other people’s children and being paid for it. but people who say that haven’t met the kids you babysat. the very same children who traveled to the upsidedown and fought monsters like the demogorgon.

there was never a spare moment were something strange wasn’t going on. but you weren’t alone in this, you had the company of steve harrington. the once dicky teenage boy had changed into a more caring and careful boy who liked looking after someone other than himself.

last year you had been suddenly thrown into the world of strange creatures and weird happenings, your normal life was completely thrown out the window. it was hard to grasp the idea that these things were real and they were after you and all these children because of a small girl.

it was a whirl wind of a year, but you had made friends in these children and steve.

this led to you and steve becoming the designated babysitters for the group. whenever they needed a ride they would call you or steve, and you didn’t mind. you had been through so much with these kids, that you felt like their big sister.

and as much as you loved their company, you equally liked downtime. time to have for yourself, times when you don’t have to worry about some supernatural creature thing trying to eat you, time when you didn’t have to think about anything more than the colour you were going to pick to paint your nails.

you tore your eyes away from the glossy pages to look at the the small glass bottles that held a variety of different nail polishes. lading on a cherry red bottle with a smile, yep that would do.

before you could even think about applying to the bright red to your nails, there was a shrill ringing coming from the landline downstairs. you could hear your mother’s rushed steps before her soft voice echoed down the hall as she answered the phone.

you tried to pay no mind to her voice as your unscrewed the lid to the nail polish.

“y/n phone!” your mothers voice called out to you.

you let out a groan of annoyance as you places the nail polish on your bed side table and walked down the hallway.

your mother was standing at the base of the stairs, the yellow landline held in her hand.

your feet moved quickly down the stairs turning the corner, taking the phone from your mothers outstretched hand with a smile.

“hello” you said softy into the static.

“hello miss y/n” the sound of a giggle laughed reached your each, bring a smile to your lips, a giggle that you had only ever heard one person make.

“sir dustin henderson” you retorted.

there was a slight shuffle of movement from the other side of the call, and you could hear the sound of another person talking.

“so we kind of need a favor. . . “ dustin trailed off, his voice coming clearing through the phone.

you paused for a moment. were you willing to break your peace and quiet? you partly blamed the fact that it was dustin calling, i mean you really could say no to the boy, it was a fight you weren’t willing to participate in.

“what can I do for you?” you questioned.

there was another pause, shuffled movements, and you could now clearly hear the sound of mike wheeler and lucas sinclair talking on the other side.

“can us drive us to the arcade?” dustin asked in a happy voice.

your brows furrowed in confusion. these kids had bikes, bikes which they took everywhere and yet here they were asking you for a ride.

“Uh huh” you mumbled into the line. “don’t you have a bike you can ride or something?” you asked, voicing your thoughts.

dustin sighed loudly “yeah but it’l be quicker if you drive” he insisted.

you wanted to say no and just hang up the phone, and spend the rest of your night listening to music and painting your nails, maybe even phone nancy to talk about making plans this weekend.

but then you thought about the sweet smiles on those kids faces and you just couldn’t.

“where’s the catch though?” you asked.

“our moms won’t let us go without a ‘babysitter’” you could practically see their eyes rolling. “not after they heard about, well you know . . .” dustin said.

“babysitter? I am not your babysitter henderson” you pressed. although you knew better, you were the designated older kid in the group along with steve.

“will you come or not?” dustin asked.

you sighed. “count me in dustin, be ready in ten” you answered.

there was loud cheering coming from the kids, which made you smile.

“oh oh and y/n” dustins voice called through the phone, just as you pulled it away from your ear “maybe you could call steve and invite him?” dustin asked.

you were slightly confused by his request, I mean dustin and steve were close, at least in that small group. so you didn’t understand why he just couldn’t ask steve himself, but there were a lot of things that dustin did that confused you, so you knew not to ask any question when you didn’t want to know

so you rolled your eyes but nodded your head, until you realized that he couldn’t see you, and you laughed. “sure”

another round of cheering was heard, then there was a chorus was goodbyes thrown your way, before the line went dead.

there was a soft sigh that left your lips as you walked towards the landline and stared down at the sing of numbers. you thought over it for a moment, trying to remember the number of the harrington boy.

your finger twirls the clear ring around the numbers in hopes that you dialed the right number, the sound of the ring entered your ear. three rings sounded before you heard his familiar voice.

“this is steve harrington speaking, and if this is dustin again so help me” steve said in an annoyed tone.

you let out a soft giggle “did you get a call to?” you asked, amused.

steve’s laughed filled your ear in response “try three”

your finger coiled around the phone cord as you stepped around the corner leaning against the kitchen wall.

“did he ask you to take the gang to the arcade?” you asked in a soft voice, a smile gracing your lips.

“begged really” he snorted, you could almost seem him rolled his deep brown eyes, hands running through his styled hair “why did he ask you?”

“yeah, and that’s why i’m calling” you wanted to laugh at the situation.

now you understood why dustin had asked you to call steve. he had already called the boy and received a no.

“that kid is . . . he is smart” steve admitted in a breath.

“gotta give him credit for his persistance” you laughed as your twirled the cord between your fingers.

steve laughed loudly and the sound made you smile, he had a nice laugh, you had to admit. there were a lot of things that you thought were nice about steve harrington, not that you would ever tell him. he was just the type of person that you couldn’t not like.

“so would you accompany me on some adventures in babysitting?” you asked.

steve laughed at your choice of words, and it made your heart skip a beat.

“how can I say no to such a great mission name” he replied.

you let out a giggle as your fingers tugged at the ends of your hair, you weren’t sure why your stomach fluttered with a strange feeling and your cheeks felt warm and you were sure they were pink by this point.

you tired to shake the feeling, but it seemed to stick with you the more you thought about steve. a shaky breath emitted from your lips as you regained your composure.

“so i’ll come by your house in five or so?” you suggested

“got it y/l/n” steve responded “see you soon”

“see you soon harrington” you smiled as you removed the phone from your ear and placed it against the receiver.

you weren’t sure why you were feeling the way you were, but it had been happening quite a lot around steve recently. you knew steve was handsome, there was no denying it, and he was a nice guy and he card about these kids like no one else you knew, and it made your heart flutter. his smile made you weak at the knees. you liked steve, yes, but now you were contemplating on which way you liked him.

you didn’t want to think to much about it, because you had to get ready to leave in the next five minutes.

so you walked back up stairs and into your room, rummaging through your cloths to pull out a pair of jeans and a deep maroon sweater. “this’ll do” you muttered to yourself as you changed.

you pulled on a pair of sneakers, they were scuffed to the brim but it didn’t really matter now. you ran your fingers through your hair, trying to tame the unruly locks. you looked in the mirror, there was little makeup on your face, some mascara and lipstick and a little powder on your face.

you were happy with the look and raced down the stairs, your parents looked at you strangely, and you smiled sheepishly at them.

“i’m babysitting dustin this afternoon, do you mind if I take the car?” you asked.

your mother and father shared a suspicious look but they said yes anyway. you cheered as you took the keys from the dish. “i’ll be back later” you called out as you walked to the front door, swing it open and walking out.

it was a short drive from your house to steve’s house so you were there in no time. just as you pulled into the driveway of steve’s house, you could see the boy standing in front of the front door, waiting for you.

he smiled widely as you pulled up, stopping long enough for him to get into the passenger seat. “i’m not used to being the passenger” was the first thing that steve said when he got in the car.

you laughed as you tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, turning in your seat slightly to back out of the driveway.

soft music flowed through the car so you drove along the suburban streets in the direction of the henderson household.

the drive was a little long, but you weren’t going to complain, spending time with steve was always nice.

“so adventures in babysitting huh” steve mumbled as he turned his head to look at you.

“don’t mock me harrington” you laughed as you took a turn down a long street.

“no no, i’m not mocking just” steve shook his head laughing “ no yeah i’m mocking you”

you laughed loudly, shaking your head “not cool harrington” you faked a scowl which made him laugh.

“you know that would make a great movie title” steve mused as he leaned back in the chair, fingers combing though his hair, trying to fix the slight mess made by the breeze coming through your open window.

“oh yeah, and for that lousy mocking you did, you don’t get to be in it” you sassed back as the scowl on your face turned into one of a playful smile.

steve scoffed and placed his hand over his heart, faux hurt written on his face. “But i’m the best baby sitter in hawkins”

“debatable” you teased as dustin’s house came into view. “cause i’m totally better”

“okay ouch” steve replied “and that is not true, those kids love me more”

“yeah okay, who agreed to take them to the arcade?” you asked as you pulled into dustin’s driveway, taking the keys out of the ignition.

steve didn’t response to your question, only getting out of the car and speed walking to the front door, trying to beat you.

you only scoffed out laughed as you pushed the car door open and followed his face pace walking.

steve knocked harshly against the door, for a moment nothing happened, you couldn’t hear anything on the other side of the door. steve raised his hand to knock again, but the door swung open to reveal a grinning dustin.

“y/n and steve are here!” his voice carried through the house.

there were several footsteps heard from inside the house, and then they appeared right in front of you. you saw the smiling faces of mike, lucas, will, max and el.

max and el seemed to be the happiest to see you, happy that there was another girl to help outnumber the young boys.

“woah hey there party of six” you laughed

“great now your here” mike said, swaying back and forth on his feet.

“we can leave” lucas finished his sentence.

all the kids chorused their agreeing thoughts. “did we just become drivers for a bunch of children?” you asked quietly to steve.

“I believe so, we should get paid for this” he nodded his head.

“you get paid in love, from us” dustin interrupted their quite conversation with a wide lipped smile.

“eh that’s not enough kid” steve said as he squinted at the curly haired boy, only making him erupt in soft giggles, the sound seemed to make everyone laugh.

“okay lets go squirts” you ordered as you moved to the side, letting all six kids walk out the door and to your car.

your car and three rows of seats. one row in the back, enough to fit three, four if you squeezed. another row in the middle, perfect for three people and no more and then the drivers and passenger seat, just enough seats for the kids and you and steve.

once all the kids were seated and buckled in you started to drive to the arcade.

“okay we have a question for you little shitheads” steve turned in his seat to look at the six kids on the back seat.

“we do?” you questioned, eyes shifting to steve for a moment before looking back at the road.

“yes we do” steve answered, not looking at you. “which of us makes the better babysitter?” he asked.

you wanted to laugh at his question, he really took the title of better babysitter seriously. it was kind of sweet.

“wait your serious?” max’s voice reached your ears, you could hear the sheer amusement in her one.

“deadly” steve deadpanned.

“well that’s easy y/n” max shrugged her shoulder as you glanced at her in the rear view mirror.

“yeah y/n is kinda nicer to us” will agreed timidly, it made you heart warm that they liked you.

“no way, steve is so much better!” dustin replied loudly.

“watch it henderson, remember who said yes to the arcade today” you laughed.

“steve is kid of a shit, but he carries a cool bat so” lucas shrugged his shoulders.

“two points for harrington” steve said is satisfaction.

then his attention seemed to be on mike and el.

“well I mean you dated my sister so you out” mike shrugged carelessly. “and y/n is just better than you, no competition”

“ouch” you laughed pulling into the arcade carpark.

“shut-up y/l/n” steve scoffed as he looked at el, who held a smile on her face.

“who do you like better el?” mike asked the short haired girl.

her eyes seemed to shirt between the two teenagers in the car with a thoughtful look on her face.

“y/n” she said in agreement with mike.

“what no way!” steve shouted as he turned back in his seat, looking defeated.

“I told you harrington, i’m just better than you” you teased as you parked the car, each of the children eager to get out of the car and play the neon lighted games in the stuff arcade.

“you win this time y/n but just you wait” steve pointed a finger at you making you laugh.

“get out of my car harrington” you giggle as you pushed the car door open and stepping out of the car, steve copying your actions.

“i’ll let you beat me at pac-man” you teased as you and steve walked into the arcade, the kids already racing around the brightly lit room with wide smiles.

“bring it on y/n” steve smiled widely.

[sfw-haikyuu-nsfw]

Aaaaah I love your blog sm, especially the headcanons!! Can I have some nsfw + sfw headcanons for Daishou and Terushima with their female s/o? Thank you!!

YAAAAAS! More headcanons! Hope you enjoy, Anon!

SFW

Daishou Suguru

Child will always be into showing her off and gloating about how great and wonderful his girlfriend is. It doesn’t matter how many times that person has heard it or how well they know her, they will be getting an earful of how perfect she is from Daishou on a daily basis.

“Ya know, [First Name] is–” “WE KNOW.”

While it’s obvious this boy is madly in love with her, he will never admit that he is completely wrapped around her finger. He’ll try to be all macho about it and everything, like “no, babe, men don’t wear nail polish” and next thing you know he’s got sparkles on his toes so that she can practice her designs before working on her own nails.

This boy will have trouble with remembering dates - anniversaries and birthdays and such - especially while he’s so focused on volleyball. He doesn’t mean it, and surely he’s got it marked on his calendar, but there are times where his mind is preoccupied with everything he needs to do for his team.

He’ll try and come up with an excuse for this rather than just apologizing and saying that he’ll try harder. Despite how much he loves her, he’s still stubborn and has a hard time admitting when he’s wrong, so give him some time to calm down and sort things out and he’ll get around to apologizing.

Terushima Yuuji

Okay, seriously, this boy is perfect boyfriend material. Outside bad boy appearance, but really a HUGE softy on the inside. Hear me out, he uses his pushy flirting tactics to get her, right, but then all of a sudden they start dating and he has this brand new side where he’s just a giant puppy dog!

Cuddles and head rubs are welcome - seriously, she could spend hours running her fingers through his hair, even scratching lightly at the buzzed portions, and this boy will be putty in her hands - and more than likely asleep on her lap.

Gah! I can see them roaming around the halls together or even just out and about holding hands. And then he just brings her hand up, fingers still interlaced and kisses every single one of her knuckles!

Lol, for her birthday or maybe just because, he probably bought her a custom shirt that says “MY BOYFRIEND IS THE HOTTEST CAPTAIN” and it’s in the school volleyball colors and everything.

Duuuude, she probably wore it to a game and got his number and last name put on the back of it! Holy, this boy would be soooo insanely stoked, he’d be all over that court and all over her when the game ended!

NSFW

Daishou Suguru

I feel like this boy would be all excited for the first time they decided to get down and dirty, but then ended up being totally flustered about it. He’d all like, “yeah, I’ll eat you out, baby” and then he’s sitting there staring at her with a red face like, “how do I do this???????”

After the initial moment of getting used to the illicit acts, this boy will have trouble diving right in and begin exploring every inch of her body. It won’t take very long for him to become an expert on just what to do to make her scream his name.

I feel like he totally gets off on begging. Like, things will get all heated and then he’s right there, ready to push inside and just… stops. Little shit will make her beg for his dick before he gives it to her.

Pull his hair. Grip it tight and pull it hard. Baby boy will be a moaning mess as he’s got his face shoved against her heat or his hips tight against her own. 

OH! Shower sex. There’s nothing better than having a wet sexy body pressed between him and the wall. Chances are, Daishou gets hard on the way to them getting into the shower, so don’t plan on getting clean anytime soon.

Terushima Yuuji

Okay, okay, I like to think that Terushima is waaaaaaay dirty and good at the things he can do with his tongue - I mean, have you seen his tongue piercing? - and I also kind of apply this to him in general when I think of his during sexy times. But consider this too, like, he’s nasty in foreplay - fingers know all the spots to work, his tongue it magic, and his kisses are intense - but when it comes to the actual act of sex, things slow way down.

It’s an important part of their relationship, he knows, and he treats it as such. So while the foreplay and maybe mood is this desperate, lustful, and even primal thing, things take a different turn when he’s finally inside her. He takes his time, he’s careful, and it’s filled with passionate kisses.

But, god, is this boy LOUD. There is nothing that can be done to keep this boy from telling the world just how good he feels in that moment, whether he’s getting head or shallowly thrusting inside her, this dude is moaning.

Really wanna hear him moan; ride him. Ride him hard. Like, she just needs to pin his hands down and give him a show. The boy will lose all sense of anything and will be a MESS.

Legit, one of his favorite - and most wanted - things to do is to have sex on the volleyball court (or the club room, but the court is more exciting). He probably always just talks about how hot it would be but doesn’t actual expect it to happen. UNTIL IT FUCKING DOES. It’s a miracle the didn’t get caught honestly, lol.

[that-sokovian-bastard]

Miraculous Headcanon

Warning: i have been adding to this headcanon for nearly a month so it is pretty long xD OOPS SORRY NOT SORRY (i did put a cut though, so, yeah) NO REGRETS

Marinette is a youtuber

Her channel consists of mostly sped up videos of her drawing designs and making her designs. Some have voice over, some have soothing and relaxing music.

Her channel blew up

Partially because, wow, she’s really talented for only being in high school

And people just really enjoyed watching her work, it’s very unique

Sometimes she’ll do simple tutorials on how to make a simple skirt, or get started on designing, but those are more rare videos

She has a second channel that is less professional than her main, where she posts a bunch of random vlogs that her and Alya take whenever they do something interesting, or even some random challenges. Most of these videos involve Alya, since she got Marinette to make a second channel for fun vlogs

Her international followers (#subtitles) find it very interesting anytime she talks about Ladybug and Chat Noir because there are legit superheroes in Paris and no other part of the world has seen that.

They vlog all sorts of things

going to the craft store for new fabrics, buttons, patterns, literally anything Marinette needs for her next project (or they’re just bored)

They record random things they see around Paris, cosplayers of LB and CN, pigeons being weird, aesthetics

Alya and Marinette have a weekly “review” which includes Alya buying something for Marinette to review- mostly themed around her favorite heroes

Sometimes just walking around the mall. Nino is spotted in many vlogs as well, but Adrien is rarely seen since he is already around so many cameras in his normal life Marinette is respecting his privacy

A lot more below the cut because I have been working on this headcanon for nearly a month!

Alya gets her to do challenges too

“What’s in my sketchbook?”

“Drawings from when I was a kid (thanks mama)”

“How well do Alya and I know each other?”

“Am I more Ladybug or Chat Noir?” -definitely alya’s idea

So Marinette has to juggle school two youtube channels, and saving Paris sometimes every other day.

She finds it really funny when Chat Noir talks to Ladybug about how much he enjoyed Marinette’s channel, but she can’t thank him.

“She’s so talented, Bug!”

“I WATCHED HE SKETCHBOOK VIDEO AND THERE ARE SOME BASED OFF ME. SHE IS THE BEST.”

“The music she uses is so relaxing.”

One day, Marinette is at lunch with her friends and pulls out her camera when Alya and Nino start debating who is better- Ladybug or Chat Noir

“She’s the one who makes everything go back to normal after!”

“But Chat Noir can destroy something and take out the akuma all together!”

“She purifies it so we don’t have a Stoneheart incident again!”

“Adrien, please tell me you’re on my side here. Chat Noir is the best, right?”

“Personally, I’m a Ladybug fan, you should really know that by now.”

“How could you do this to me?”

Cue alya celebrating she has Adrien on her side, but pouting when Marinette sides with Nino.

“Sure, Ladybug can purify the akuma and turn everything back to normal, but she would be nothing without Chat Noir,” ADRIEN BLUSHES AT MARINETTE TALKING ABOUT CHAT

Naturally, the video is titled something along the lines “#teamLB or #teamCN?” and most of the vlog is the debate between Alya and Nino

But her fanbase flips the frick out when they see Adrien there because he’s the model of Gabriel! Adrien Agreste! like of course they know him Gabriel is all over the world so of course so is Adrien’s face

Her followers want her to collab with him

And she’s very wary at first because he could say no and she finally got over the stuttering around him

but she asks him anyway

and he is all for it! Little fangirl Adrien is so excited to be in a video.

They do a video for her main channel, since that’s what the comments begged for, where they did a design challenge. They both had a design prompt, then had to draw a sketch of what they thought would fit it. 

Adrien should stick to his day job of being a model

he cannot draw for the life of him

Then a few days later they do a challenge for her second channel- it was a tag that Alya said would be perfect for them

“If we were dating TAG” because Alya keeps telling them how much she ships them…and after that video on her main channel and the banter between the two of them…they were shipped

“If we were dating, where would we spend the most time together?”

“oh my god we would spend so much time at the bakery, her parents make the best sweets” and adrien was practically drooling in his answer

“If we were dating who would be the one person you would let them break up with you for?”

Adrien just so quickly “Chat Noir. That’s it.”

“HA, i was going to say Ladybug for you.”

and it’s just really sweet

and there is so much cuteness

and marinette ends the video off “next time we do a video i think we should record us playing our favorite video game”

“PLEASE”

Naturally, Chat Noir is freaking out over the video the day it is posted, which is also a patrol day, and he is just so happy

“What, do you like her?”

“She’s the best, Bugaboo, and this video just makes me so happy.”

“It’s about if her and Adrien Agreste were dating?”

“IT’S ADORABLE!”

Ladybug is suspicious why he’s so excited about this but doesn’t say anything because who knows what it could lead to

Weeks pass and more videos come out, Adrien starting to be a reoccurring member of her youtube community

Somehow, someone saw Marinette and Adrien detransform after a fight (so they ran out of time) and got  a video. It went viral. 

“We’re all shocked! The model and son of Gabriel Agreste is one of the heroes protecting us! And, even more surprising, the successful Youtuber Marinette Dupain-Cheng is the Ladybug protecter! Who would have thought that pair would be the heroes we all know and love?”

People thought it was even better that they were friends behind the masks too

There is no escape for Marinette. She was hoping that she could go on youtube and all would be normal, but she can’t post a single video, tweet, or instagram without a million comments about her alter ego

So she decides that she will do one video answering some questions about Ladybug then she would never bring it onto youtube again, and everything would go back to how it used to be.

Her tweet reads “I will be doing a q&a for Ladybug. One video, then I’m leaving her off my youtube. You have a few hours to send your questions to #askmari before I film the video.”

She never imagined this would be a video she would have to film

She never wanted this to be a video she would have to film

She never wanted her identity to be out there

At least her friends and family were supportive

She had barely talked to Adrien since the big reveal, and was worried this would ruin their friendship

But Adrien sees the tweet

“she shouldn’t have to do this alone”

Adrien bolts over to the bakery and Sabine and Tom are actually very pleased to see him, maybe seeing him would help her go back to her happy self if they talked

He rushed upstairs and got there right as she set up the camera in her room

“What are you doing here?”

“I was hoping you’d let me answer questions with you, I know how hard it could be.”

“I…honestly would love that.”

Marinette is so scared to film the video she feels like she’s going to throw up

She’s shaking very badly

But Adrien grabs her hand and reminds her he is there for her and that once this video is over, she never has to tell anyone anything else if she doesn’t want to

He also reminds her that she doesn’t even have to do this if she doesn’t want to or doesn’t feel comfortable

“No, I think I owe them something. I really want all the comments to lessen,” She decides, and starts the video

“Hey guys, I’m Marinette,” She starts. “And Adrien is here with me too. If you saw my tweet earlier, or read the title of the video, then you’ll know I’m doing a q&a for my alter ego, Ladybug, thanks to the transformation video that went viral a while ago.”

“I’m here to answer and moral support,” Adrien budds in and takes her phone to read some questions. He reminds her that she doesn’t have to answer everything and they both know there are some things that should be left a secret (kwamis)

“When did you become Ladybug?”

“The first day of grade 10″

“Why did you keep it a secret?”

“Hawkmoth is dangerous. If he knows who we are, who knows what he could do? He could target loved ones, or even come after me when I’m not Ladybug.”

“Did anyone know? Did Chat know?”

Adrien answered that one. “No, no one knew. And from our first day together, she said we wouldn’t tell each other. Safety reasons.”

“How do you turn into Ladybug?”

“I’ve said it to a few akumas, and it’s all I’ll ever say: magic.”

The video continues on to ask vague questions about the job and how she balances everything to more specifics in some attacks. (Dark cupid kiss did come up, cue blushes on both teenagers)

By the end of the video, Marinette looks like she’s going to cry. Adrien quickly gives her a hug and reminds her everything is going to be okay. She leaves it in the final cut. 

Adrien speaks before she ends the video. “I bet Hawkmoth is happy this happened, and thinks he has an upperhand. But guess what, Hawkmoth? Once we get over this obstacle, we will be even stronger. And we will be coming for you.”

“Thank you so much for watching, and that’s ends out talk about Ladybug and Chat Noir.” And the video ends with a cut to advertise her other social medias

Marinette is so thankful Adrien was there for the video

And he was right…their relationship grew even stronger

And they were ready to take on Hawkmoth head on.

[mogdaze-blog]

Midnight Rendezvous - Short Story for Halloween

It’s hard to make a good living as an actor. Unless you’re an A-lister, chances are you’ve probably got a second job on the side to make ends meet while you try to live out your dreams. That used to be me, too: a plucky little kid eager to take on any role he could get. I was more than willing to bust my ass in the meantime if it meant getting to do what I love, knowing that all the long hours and back-breaking work would be worth it in the end. When I got my big break.

Life has done a great job of beating that enthusiasm out of me since then.

Now, I’m a graphic designer. The work is interesting, don’t get me wrong, and it puts bread on the table, but it was never my real passion. Ever since I was a little kid, all I ever wanted to do was play pretend, and it’d been my greatest goal since then to do it professionally - even though I hadn’t scored a real acting job since the Nineties.

That’s why, when in mid-October I was contacted by my old agent, Sean Harrell, for the first time in a decade, I didn’t hesitate to pick up the phone.

“Travis! You son of a bitch, you!” He said in the cheerful, endearing way only a talent agent could get away with calling someone a son of a bitch, “shit, what’s it been, eight years? God, it’s crazy how time flies.”

“What do you want, Sean? I didn’t even know I still had you on retainer.”

“Once your agent, always your agent, baby,” he said with a laugh, “if you’re wondering why I’m so chipper, it’s because I just got handed a big, juicy opportunity for you, my man.”

The last alleged “big, juicy opportunity” Sean had gotten me was a commercial for breath spray running on a few major networks back in the day. I couldn’t get a date for a few weeks afterwards, thanks to my newfound reputation as “Man With Halitosis Number 3.” Sean was one gift horse who was occasionally filled with bloodthirsty Trojan soldiers, so I’d learned to look at his offers with a healthy sense of scepticism.

“What’s this big opportunity?”

“You’ve been offered a guest spot on a major talk show,” he said, giddy as a kid on Christmas morning, “I’ve been speaking to the reps all morning, they’re practically begging to have you on.”

I scoffed and shook my head, though I knew Sean couldn’t see it. Even when I was acting, it was cult stuff - B-movies and little indie films where the work was varied but the pay was crap; none of them ever broke out of the indie circuit and made it big. In short, it was all nothing that Conan O'Brien or Jimmy Fallon would give two shits about.

“What talk show is this?” I asked.

“Midnight Rendezvous, with Julie Forrester. It goes out live to a few million people every week.”

“Never heard of it.”

“That’s funny,” he said, “because the reps told me that if I mentioned the name, you’d know it immediately.”

“Well,” I said, feeling irritated, “I guess they’ve got the wrong guy. Why would they want me, anyway? I don’t even act anymore, it’s not like I’ve got anything to promote.”

“Apparently,” Sean said, speaking uncharacteristically slowly, as though trying to choose his words extra carefully, “don’t get mad, but they want to talk about The Red Weekend.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah, I kinda figured you’d say that. They’re recording on the 31st.”

“Halloween? Oh, for fuck’s sakes, Sean. Could it get any tackier? Look, if they call again, tell them I don’t wanna talk about that stupid movie, and if that doesn’t get them to shut up, tell them they can take their offer, and shove it up their–”

“The pay, Travis. Let me tell you about the pay before you get all…heated.”

“What are they offering?” I grumbled.

“Fifteen thousand, for just a couple of hours on set. Still feeling crabby, Trav?”

Yes, I was, but I didn’t feel I could show it. Fifteen thousand for a few hours sitting on a couch in a studio, being asked questions about some stupid B-movie I starred in when I was in my twenties, seemed like a deal only a proud idiot would turn down. I may have been proud, perhaps unreasonably so, but I was no idiot.

“You sure these guys are legit?” I asked, not wanting to say yes right after hearing the number, “they’re not just gonna lure me out to some vacant lot, beat me over the head, and harvest my organs?”

Sean groaned into the phone. It was like we’d never stopped speaking. Truth be told, I’d missed the slimy bastard. At least he gave it all to you straight. When you spoke to Sean Harrell, you knew what you were in for.

“Look, Travis, there’s no way to ever really be sure they’re not organ traffickers - hell, I’m sure Kimmel fenced a kidney or two when he was starting out - but I can give you at least a strong 80% certainty that these guys are the real deal,” he said, “I spoke to the host for a little while, uh, Julie! She seems nice, you know, a personality. I’m sure you two will get along just fine.”

“You said the exact same thing about that Fairweather woman, but that fell through, too. How do I know this is gonna be any different to that?”

“Oh, come on, Trav, that’s not fair. You know the Fairweather thing couldn’t be helped. Besides, it was ten years ago. This? This is now, and now I’ve got this offer on the table for you and you only. Do you think I would have called if I thought this was just gonna be bullshit? Hell no. So, what’ll it be, buddy, you in or you out?”

I gave a reluctant sigh, before finally saying, “fuck it, why not. Sign me up.”

“Great! I’m so glad you said that, Travis, because truth be told I’d already said yes on your behalf.”

“Jesus Christ, Sean.”

“What? It’s my job to make decisions in the best interests of your career, even if you don’t. I’ll keep in touch and feed you the details in the next couple days. It’s shaping up to be a real happy Halloween, Mr. Norton.”

“Don’t push it. Speak to you later, Sean.”

“Later.”

He hung up after that, and I was left with nothing but silence and my thoughts.

The Red Weekend. It’d been a while since I’d heard that name, and that was no accident. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that it was the movie that destroyed my credibility, and my acting career, so just thinking about it made my blood boil. Plot-wise, it was nothing special. Just a derivative 1985 monster movie cashing in on the slasher formula that was so popular at the time, with a few stolen shades of “Creature from The Black Lagoon.” A bunch of hapless teenagers decided to spend a weekend in a cabin on the edge of a lake, only to have their fun spoiled by a creature rising up and slaughtering all of them except one - who then goes on to turn the tables and slay the monster, avenging the fallen. Simple, cheap, and cheesy.

I played the creature from the lake, affectionately dubbed by the cast, crew, and all five-or-so fans of the movie as “The Bog Man.” If I took the role today (which, by the way, I wouldn’t) I’d have gone uncredited and collected my pay check, before moving on with my life. But I was star-struck, by the one person on the production team with what you might call genuine prestige.

Richard Upton Pavlović, the most iconic special effects artist you’ve never heard of. All the greats - Savini, Baker, Rambaldi, and a laundry list of others - all studied under Pavlović at one time or another, since he immigrated from Croatia in the forties. But he was a famously private man: nobody outside the business had ever heard of him; he was one of B-cinema’s best kept secrets. While the number of special effects artists who’d studied under him was vast, he only chose to work on a handful of different films personally: one of which, for reasons I doubt I’ll ever understand, was The Red Weekend.

The reason I took the role, and the reason I chose to be credited, was that in playing The Bog Man I’d be working one-on-one with Pavlović in the makeup room. It was my only chance to really interact with a living legend, before his death from a sudden heart attack back in 2007. Pavlović was a man with extraordinary vision. His one condition for working on a project was full creative control over creature designs, because he needed to be unstifled to truly work his magic. And it was magic: he could string together blood and gore with the best of them, sure, but when it came to monster design, Pavlović was the master.

When I met him in person for the first time, in a makeup trailer during a bitterly cold day in September, I was surprised by how small he was. Pavlović was a squat, wiry man with a silver horseshoe of hair and thick half-moon spectacles, looking like a cartoon shrew from a mid-30s Disney short. His design for The Bog Man was assembled in a thick stack of papers he carried in the crook of his arm, and started pinning around the makeup chair I was sitting on.

“Have you been under heavy prosthetics before?” He asked, with a soft, frail voice that still carried the echoes of a Croatian accent.

“No,” I said, “but I’m open to new experiences.”

Pavlović gave a quiet, good-hearted chuckle at my naïveté and continued pinning up his pictures. They were all hand-drawn pencil illustrations, some of parts of the creature, others of the entire thing. It was a huge amphibian, a little bigger than a human, with features somewhere between an axolotl and a triceratops, with the addition of a long, whipping tail. It was a hunched, slimy, pot-bellied creature with green skin and long arms ending in six thick claws. There was a strangely childlike nature to its head: wide and flat, largely smooth and featureless, with beady black eyes and three horns sprouting from either side of its head. In the illustrations with its mouth closed, it seemed more like a frog, with its lipless gob stretching from one set of horns to the other. When the mouth was open, it reminded me more of a shark, with multiple rows of switchblade fangs.

“What is this thing? I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”

“It is Rugoba,” Pavlović replied, gravely, “haunter of shadows, devourer of man.”

“Did you draw all these yourself?” I asked, “the detail is incredible.”

“Some I drew, yes,” he said, unpacking his equipment now, “others I inherited, from family members back in the old country. Creatures in the movies these days, they’re too tacky, too homogenised. I like to draw inspiration from older sources. It looks better, don’t you agree?”

I nodded in agreement, not knowing what else to do.

What followed was nothing short of gruelling. Seven hours in the makeup chair every morning and every night, and layer after layer of paint, putty, latex, slime, and false skin was packed onto me, until I felt like I’d been shrink-wrapped. Pavlović was a perfectionist, and I can’t imagine anyone ever felt that better than me. The head was a mixture of latex and animatronics that I wore like a helmet, with extremely limited visibility. My hands and feet were bound and fitted with claws, and a multi-jointed wire wrapped in latex became my whipping tail, that moved of its own accord.

For all the layers they’d packed onto me, it didn’t do anything to insulate. During the shoot - a lot of which I spent emerging from water and chasing down drunk, horny morons - it was a miracle I never came down with hypothermia. Day after day after day in Pavlović’s makeup chamber of horrors, all for a film I knew nobody was going to see. It was only when I got the chance to see the first proper cut of the film that I started to truly understand all the mythos behind Pavlović’s supposed mad genius: when I watched the film, waiting to see myself in a hokey monster costume, prancing through the woods, I never got what I wanted. When I was on screen, there was no recognising me, because I was not there. It was only the Rugoba, as if it’d been ripped straight from Pavlović’s nightmares and spat onto the screen, hunting its prey.

I remembered performing all the actions I’d see on screen, but I couldn’t - no matter how hard I tried - see myself doing it. Pavlović had turned me into his monster, and he’d done it flawlessly. The movie, as anticipated, was hot garbage, with plotting and characters as thin as wet toilet paper, unbearable dialogue, and thoroughly incompetent cinematography. But the Rugoba? That, I think I can say without a doubt, was the greatest, most realistic monster to ever grace the silver screen.

However, there was another element of the Pavlović legend which made him a little less desirable to work with. Actors, in one regard, are a lot like football players: they’re a superstitious bunch. The little superstition that Richard Pavlović carried around his neck was that he was cursed: any film he chose to work on was doomed to fail, and if you were unlucky, that failure would spread its tendrils out to the cast and crew as well.

Ian Barker, one of my co-stars, once told me in confidence that he felt the whole production just reeked of doom to him, like some invisible axe was hanging over all of our heads, just waiting for the right moment to drop. Thanks to being in full Rugoba makeup for almost my entire time on set, not many of the cast interacted with me - I was the amphibian social leper - but Ian was different. He was at least someone I felt like I could talk to, even if most of what we discussed was Pavlović’s curse.

To me, it was all stupid, baseless hokum, but towards the end of the shoot, I started getting worried. Maybe it was the fear that rattled me, but after The Red Weekend, I never nailed another audition: not for movies, not for TV, not for Broadway. Sean netted me a few commercials after that, but for all intents and purposes, my serious acting career was kaput. Looking back, I probably never had the nerve for stardom anyway, but just thinking about that movie had the power to leave a sour taste in my mouth.

And this Julie Forrester wanted me to talk about it on live TV. Part of me, honestly, was afraid of what I’d say, under pressure, and under the intensity of all those studio lights. My best guess for what they were trying to do was a Halloween retrospective on the life and work of Richard Pavlović, monster movie maestro, and seeing as I was the last actor to officially work with him, my experiences held some weight.

In the end, if I could take home fifteen grand for a talk show appearance a couple decades after my fifteen minutes of mild fame were up, who was I to complain?

Sean got back to me a few days later, saying a chauffeur paid by the studio would be taking me from my bungalow on the edge of L.A. to the studio. It all felt a little much, considering my credentials, but Sean just encouraged me to put my feet up and enjoy it. After all, I didn’t know when I’d get another experience like this, if I ever did. Might as well soak it in while I still could.

It was about eight at night, and trick-or-treaters were already prowling the streets, when a black BMW parked in front of my home and dimmed the lights. It felt less like a talk show valet and more like a mafia hitman, but I walked up to the car nonetheless, and the driver rolled down the window. It was a woman who looked to be in her mid-forties, wearing a classic chauffeur hat and a wide, inviting grin.

“You Travis Norton?” She asked.

I nodded.

“Hop on in, Sir. I’m Mary, I’m gonna drive you down to the studio.”

The car was comfortable, and there was a small bottle of champagne in a little icebox on the seat next to me, with a smiling jack-o-lantern painted onto it. The temptation was there, but I didn’t touch it - probably wasn’t wise to get loaded before a TV interview. Once I was belted up, Mary fired up the ignition and drove.

“Everything okay back there, Mr. Norton?” Mary said.

“Oh yeah,” I replied, “it’s wonderful. I feel bad for making you come out, I could have driven down myself.”

Mary laughed to herself in the front seat.

“Nonsense, Mr. Norton,” she said, “I’m honoured to have you in my car. I never thought that I’d be in the company of the star of The Red Weekend. If it’s not too unprofessional of me to ask, would I be able to have your autograph when we arrive? I’d just like to show my kids.”

“You let your kids watch The Red Weekend?” I asked, remembering its plethora of gory death scenes.

“Are you kidding?” Mary said with another hearty laugh, “it’s their favourite movie. They’re crazy for it.”

For the rest of the journey, I remained largely silent. Mary seemed nice at face value, but the more you spoke to her, the more you realised something was off about her. But it wasn’t just Mary that was a little odd: the car, upon closer, more sustained inspection, was strange too. The back windows were so tinted you could barely see out of them, and before I knew it, I was hopelessly lost. I’d lived in L.A. for most of my adult life, but the neighbourhoods Mary was driving us through felt totally alien to me.

The studio was like an anthill, pulsing with life, and dotted with more rictus pumpkins. Assistants and stagehands shuffled to and fro in steady streams, the pumping lifeblood of the whole big, complicated affair, as Mary pulled us into the parking lot. I got out of the car, gave a small, reluctant autograph in her pocket book - dedicated to her kids, of course - before being ushered away by another little detachment of stagehands. The place seemed to run with almost military efficiency, with everyone around me constantly checking their watches before moving at a quickened pace.

It was this aspect of a life in show-business that I never missed.

“Mr. Norton,” said a shrewd-looking studio rep who’d materialised from a crowd of scurrying assistants - he’d never be on camera, but his suit looked far nicer than mine, “I’m Michael. Splendid to see you accepted our offer. Please, follow me, I’ll see to it that you get to Miss Forrester.”

Ten years out of the media, and here, I was a babe in the woods. I blindly followed Michael further into the bowels of the studio, away from packed crowds of excited guests being corralled into queues. Most had won contests to be here, and the rest had probably paid their way in. They’d be the ones watching me, reminding me that I was being watched, not just by them, but by millions of others who’d all tune in to a show I’d never even heard of. It’d been a strange and eventful Halloween.

Before I knew it, in the haze of yelling directors and baking studio lights, I was backstage. They ushered me into a makeup room, where I was given the most minimal makeup job I’d ever seen, even more so considering my work on The Red Weekend for comparison. I was about half way through deciding whether it was a compliment when the door opened behind me, and a strange, kinetic energy seemed to fill the room, as though someone had just turned on a generator.

“Travis Norton,” said a shrill, excited voice coming from a shape I could only just catch in the corner of my mirror, “you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this. I feel like I need someone to pinch me.”

Julie Forrester, like most television hosts, was a font of untapped energy, constantly bubbling beneath the surface. She was a little shorter than me at about 5"8, decked out in a tasteful grey suit, with a broad smile that seemed to flash the majority of her paper-white, perfectly-aligned teeth. She’d been prepped and polished by countless stylists and makeup artists, because I couldn’t for the life of me tell you how old she was - you could peg me as a middle-aged bum at a glance, but Julie seemed to stand outside age, just looking in and smiling at the rest of us. Her hair - black, silky - was cut fashionably short.

“Hey Julie,” I said, with the awkward, feigned familiarity of meeting TV personalities, “thanks so much for having me on. I’m incredibly grateful for the opportunity.”

She gave an excited little squeak, like a teenager at a boyband concert. This was all feeling more and more like a big, sinister practical joke. Trick or god damn treat.

“Hearing you say my name is so surreal,” she said with a laugh - no, a giggle, “young me would have exploded at just the thought of it. You should know, I don’t normally do this, but with you I just couldn’t resist. You’ve been a hard man to track down, you know? Extraordinarily private, for a celebrity of your stature.”

I laughed back, acting like I was in on the gag.

“Yeah, well,” I said, “I have always been pretty low-key.”

“Are you a fan of the show?” She asked, clearly hoping the answer was yes. Julie reminded me of the kid in class who was always trying to impress the teacher - searching for some kind of validation from someone she perceived as an authority figure. You don’t get into this line of work unless validation is part of what drives you.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but I thought about lying, about humouring her. It was only when I realised there might be a follow-up question that I decided to give her my slightly-sanitised version of the truth.

“I’m sorry,” I said, “but I don’t really watch much TV. But Sean, my agent, he told me this show was excellent, so I jumped at the chance to be a guest.”

Julie’s face fell slightly, as though my words had wounded her, but she stayed positive. Outwardly, at least.

“In that case, Travis, you are in for a real treat tonight,” she said, “I’ve got some great questions lined up, there’ll be a brief Q&A with some audience members - don’t worry, it’s all screened, so there won’t be any curveballs - and we’ll have a few fun little segments mixed in to break stuff up. Is this your first time doing a live TV interview? My researchers couldn’t find much footage of you online.”

“No, uh, this is my first time. I’m a little nervous, actually.”

She gave a friendly, comforting chuckle and patted me on the shoulder.

“Don’t worry, you’ll be just fine. You can pretend it’s only you and me, if that helps, but everyone out there loves you, Travis. They’ll be hanging off your every word.”

“I never knew The Red Weekend had such an ardent fanbase.” I said, trying to play off all the uncomfortable praise that seemed to be bombarding me from every angle.

Julie laughed again, as though I’d said something funny and missed it.

“Don’t be so modest, Travis, everyone remembers their first time watching The Red Weekend, it’s a rite of passage,” she said, walking towards the door, “if you need to do any last-minute psyching yourself up, now’s the time. You’ll be on in ten.”

The sudden, strange realness of it all hit me like a haymaker as Julie closed the door behind her. What the hell was I doing? I wasn’t an actor, not anymore, I designed logos for small businesses and occasionally made a poster or two. The freakish contrast between the world I’d known for the last two decades and the world I was being pulled back into was jarring. It barely felt like I had time to blink, when Michael, the rep, was knocking on the dressing room door.

“We’re ready for you now, Mr. Norton, do come out and join me. Recording will begin soon.”

I gulped down my final misgivings like cheap scotch, and gave a long sigh. It was now or never, but truth be told, even for fifteen grand, “never” was looking more attractive.

The set was, in a word, generic. A large red couch sat across from a wide desk, bearing the title “MIDNIGHT RENDEZVOUS” in large but tasteful lettering. The background was the standard plywood fare covered in a large facsimile of the L.A. Skyline up in lights. Julie sat at her desk, beaming, while a skinny warmup comedian stood centre stage, making anodyne jokes about West Hollywood traffic to the softly-laughing studio audience. They sat in near-darkness, compared to the bleached whiteness of the set, but the longer you looked at them, the more you could make out all their shapes.

I took a seat across from Julie, not wanting to upstage the comedian, but the second I entered the view of the audience I felt a hundred pairs of eyes pierce me. For whatever reason, I was the centre of attention.

“This will be over soon, and we’ll get started,” Julie said with a wink, “this might be my most anticipated episode. No pressure, though, you’re gonna nail it.”

The warmup comedian was finishing his set, his brow now dotted with glistening beads of sweat, like the damp patches glaring through his cheap suit. None of his stuff was particularly funny - all broad observations and reheated takes, the TV dinner of comedy. Most of all, he just seemed surprised and giddy to be there.

“Thank you!” He said, “you’ve been a wonderful audience, but now I’m gonna hand you over to Julie and Travis, who I hear have got an excellent show for you tonight! Have a happy and safe Halloween, guys!”

He laughed as the crowd cheered, and then started to head for the exit, when Julie called to him.

“Josh!” She called, “you did a great job, really awesome stuff. Would you mind sticking around a few minutes longer? There’s a few last little things we need to do.”

Josh nodded politely and returned to centre stage, delivering a few more inoffensive little quips to the crowd, and receiving small bouts of friendly laughter in return. I didn’t notice at first, but Michael the rep had appeared at Julie’s side, and I caught the tail end of their conversation.

“Is the perimeter secure?” She asked him.

“Yes, ma'am,” he replied, “we should be all good to go, when you’re ready.”

She nodded, and Michael disappeared backstage. Seeming to just arbitrarily come and go was Michael’s whole thing, I gathered, but before I could think about it any longer, Julie stood up and joined Josh, centre stage.

“It’s looking like we have a beautiful audience tonight!” She said, with the practiced, theatrical flair of someone who’d said this a million times, “and how appropriate, because I think tonight we may have my favourite guest of all time. Do I even have to say his name, folks?”

There was a cheer from the crowd. I gave an awkward smile, and Josh just stood there dumbly, next to Julie.

“I have been informed by the producers that all the perimeters are secure now,” she said, “so, with that in mind, it’s time to change.”

It happened so quickly, but it felt like it took a million years. The hue of Julie’s skin began to change from a pale pink to a deep, murky green, as her shape began to shift, bloat, and elongate. But, it wasn’t just Julie: the camera men, the stagehands, and the audience began changing too, all slowly warping themselves out of humanity and into something else entirely. Six claws, those big amphibian faces, those long, whipping tails and terrible jaws full of thousands of teeth.

If I wasn’t almost entirely sure it was all fake to begin with, I would have screamed until my lungs burned up into prunes in my chest cavity, but as it was I couldn’t summon a single sound. The host, the crew, the studio audience: they weren’t human, not even close. They were Pavlović’s monster. They were the Rugoba.

All of them except Josh, who stood next to the seven-foot-tall monster that Julie had become - still somehow wearing that sleek grey suit over her freakish new body. He was quaking in terror, only letting out occasional whimpers of fear. Both were standing in front of me, so I couldn’t get a good look at their faces, but beyond them I saw a legion of grinning Rugoba filling the stands. All here to see me.

“But, before we get this show on the road,” Julie said, her voice startlingly similar to when she still seemed human, “some free concessions for the first few rows. Remember to share!”

With a huge, clawed hand, Julie gave the quaking Josh a push. He pitched forwards, screaming, into the midst of the studio audience, and they set upon him in an instant with claws and teeth. Ripping, tearing, devouring. Those panicked yells soon just become bloody gurgles, and then nothing but the sounds of feasting, and of Julie’s laughter. When Josh’s head came away from what was left of his body, several Rugoba seemed to fight over its contents.

Had I not have been desensitised by spending my young adult years working in crappy, exploitative horror movies, I’d have thrown up. Instead, I just sat and watched, feeling like someone was taking a weed whacker to my soul. Human beings weren’t meant to witness things like this, and now, I was the only one here.

“Settle down, folks,” Julie said with a good-natured chuckle, “we’ll have more snacks distributed throughout the show. Everyone ready to begin? If you are, give me a big cheer!”

And she got one. The creatures that’d eaten a man alive a few seconds before just took their places, all looking as excited as their inhuman faces seemed to allow. The better part of me knew that I should have tried to run - I wasn’t paralysed by fear or anything like that, no, I just knew that if they were eating Josh but sparing me, there had to be a reason.

A Rugoba director, wearing an abnormally large headset to fit around his horns, called lights, camera, action.

What I assumed must have been the theme tune began to play, as Julie turned to me, a look of confusion spread against her wide, froglike face.

“Why haven’t you changed, Travis?” She asked.

That’s when it all hit me: why I was here, what all this was about. Pavlović - that mad, genius son of a bitch - his makeup job wasn’t just good, it was utterly flawless, a perfect representation of a creature his family always knew truly existed. The costume was so good, it even fooled Julie and the others. For all these years, they genuinely thought I was one of them.

“I can’t.” I said, without thinking.

“Why?” She asked in a harsh whisper.

I could tell the theme song was drawing to a close, and I needed to spin good enough bullshit to not get eaten by a talk show host. It wasn’t my best work, in hindsight, but what I said was:

“I’m a method actor, and I’m playing a human in my next role. I don’t want to compromise the integrity of the character.”

What I expected was getting a face full of gnashing monster teeth, but no, Julie just laughed and smiled at me. As the theme song played its last few notes, I breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she’d bought it. And with the audience’s undivided attention, Julie began her little monologue.

“Welcome, welcome, welcome to the good people at home! You know me, I’m Julie Forrester, and this is Midnight Rendezvous - the most popular talk show on Rugoba TV!” She said, before presenting her middle claw to the camera, “so pogo on that, Morning Chitchat. And boy, do we have a special guest for you tonight, folks, a guest quite unlike any other. You know him, you love him, it’s the one and only Mr. Travis Norton!”

The studio audience exploded into deafening cheers and applause, like none I’d ever heard in my lifetime. The response was so overwhelming, I nearly forgot I’d just seen them all eat an innocent man alive.

Julie walked back and squeezed herself behind the desk, making it look comically child-sized now.

“Now, Travis, I’m thrilled to have you on.” She said, leaving a pause for me.

“I’m thrilled to be on,” I said, my voice quivering, “sorry, I’m not used to all this attention. It’s a little overwhelming.”

She laughed again, and said, “now, in many ways, you’re a guest that needs no introduction - but I’m gonna introduce you anyway, because that’s how I make my living.”

The crowd laughed, and I decided to join in. Slime was dripping in liberal dollops from Julie’s massive jaws, coating the top of the desk. It’s a miracle I didn’t relieve my bowels just looking at her.

“I know I’ve been a fan of you for a long, long time, Travis. Having a Rugoba celebrity on the show is nothing new, of course, we’ve had plenty here: Björk, Kanye West, Ryan Reynolds…but Travis, you, to this day, are the only Rugoba in living memory who’s had the guts to show their true form on film,” she said, a genuine note of pride in her voice, “and I think that deserves another round of applause, don’t you, folks?”

More applause, and I forced a smile. It was becoming clear to me that this whole thing was just a tightrope act: I was a folk hero to them for now, but the second they realised I wasn’t one of them, I’d be devoured, just like Josh. In that moment, I wished that Richard Upton Pavlović was alive again, so I could have a go at beating him to death myself.

“If you’re wondering why Travis is looking so tasty tonight, folks, it’s because - and this is a Midnight Rendezvous exclusive - he’s going to be starring in a new movie soon. How exciting?” Julie said, playing up every word for the eager crowd of monsters just beyond the edge of the set, “he’s a method actor, so he’s trying to stay in character. Can you tell us a little about the film, Travis?”

Great. I was on the spot again, one lie leading to another. A good piece of advice to take to heart is that when you’re already in a hole, it’s best to stop digging, but I was already half way to China.

“It’s called Mirrors: Reflecting,” I said, completely pulling it out of my ass, “it’s a comedy-drama about a has-been actor who ends up getting way in over his head in a situation he doesn’t understand. It’s in pre-production.”

“Oooooh,” Julie said, “sounds exciting. Now, I’ll start with the question I think we’ve all been thinking since we first saw The Red Weekend: how did you find the willpower to never eat any of your co-stars?”

The general rule seemed to be that anything I found morally repugnant would get a big laugh out of the crowd. The Rugoba sense of humour seemed to be mainly based around terrible things happening to humans, so I chose my words as carefully as I could, given the circumstances.

“It’s, uh, it’s all about self-control,” I said, “you’ve just gotta tell yourself to stay in the professional zone, and that you can’t eat any of them, because it’ll, uh, compromise the production.”

“God,” Julie said, “check out this guy here, making me feel like a slob. You’ve gotta give me the number of your dietician after this, Trav. I ate mine last week.”

I laughed out of politeness, but I genuinely wasn’t sure whether it was a joke or not. For my own sanity, I chose to believe the former. The crowd found it hilarious, either way.

“Did any of your co-stars know the truth? You know, about who you really are?” She asked.

“No,” I cut in, worrying that revealing the truth would be a secret death sentence, “those dumb humans believed it was all just makeup. You know what people are like, easy to trick.”

Julie slammed a claw down on the slimy desktop and gave an over-the-top laugh.

“So true, Travis, so true!” She cackled, “in fact, half of the folks at home are probably enjoying a trick or treater as we speak. Halloween, what a holiday, it’s like getting free home delivery - and they bring your dessert in a bag with them! So considerate - who says humans aren’t good for anything?”

How many of these things were there? How many facets of society had they invaded, if they had their own TV shows? Sean said this show went out live to millions of viewers, and surely not all of them would be watching. There must have been Rugoba everywhere.

“Now, a couple more serious questions, before we get to the fun stuff,” she said, licking the slobber off her fangs with a long, purple tongue, “your filmography has some strange gaps. You get plenty of work in the eighties, and a little going into the nineties, but then a huge episode of silence until now. Why the return to film?”

It probably shouldn’t have rattled me, given what was going on, but it did. Somehow, the fear of failure ran even deeper than the fear of monsters, and Julie had opened the floodgates.

“It’s not been for lack of trying,” I said with a laugh that undermined my sadness, “it’s hard to make a good living as an actor. Unless you’re an A-lister, chances are you’ve probably got a second job on the side to make ends meet while you try to live out your dreams. I’m a graphic designer in my spare time. Just lately, I got lucky, and was offered another big break. It wasn’t what I expected, but I’m trying to play it out as best I can.”

The crowd gave a sympathetic “awwww” that felt good in spite of them being a horde of carnivorous beasts. Julie seemed similarly sympathetic, looking at me with those big, black shark-eyes that somehow communicated a warm depth of compassion you couldn’t imagine coming from a creature like her.

“Well,” she said, trying to reclaim the room, “I’m sure I speak for everyone in this room when I say that we’re glad you’re getting work again, Travis, you’re a talent like no other. That’s why I thought I’d get you a fun little Halloween treat.”

All the lights around us began to dim, as several excited “oooooohs” issues forth from the crowd. I could hear sudden movement backstage, and the scraping of metal against metal.

“But,” Julie said with glee, standing up from her desk and trotting to centre stage, “one person’s treat is another person’s trick, quid pro quo, that’s the way the world goes. Travis isn’t the only special guest we’ve got tonight, courtesy of some fine work from our producers.”

A group of Rugoba in dark uniforms dragged a huddled, chained figure onto the stage. He’d been either beaten or drugged, but whatever the case, the guy was totally out of it. Half-naked, covered in scratches where his handlers had been too rough. It’d been so long, but after a moment or two, I recognised who it was.

Ian Barker, my old Red Weekend co-star.

“As you all know,” Julie said, addressing the crowd, “the one blemish marring the perfection of The Red Weekend is the downer ending. The rest of it is such an uplifting story of Rugoba conquering and devouring humankind, as nature intended, until the character played by our new guest Ian Barker here slays our champion!”

The crowd entered a state of vicious booing, all directed at Ian, who was too dazed to even respond. He remained on his knees, with a heavy metal collar bound around his neck.

“But, today, as a Midnight Rendezvous Halloween special, we’re going to right that wrong, folks!” She said with a laugh of shrill, sadistic excitement, “our dear friend of the show, Travis Norton, will devour Ian Barker live for you and the folks at home, and all the wrongs will be right again. Is everyone excited?”

As the volume of the cheering went up, my heart sank. Before I could even think to stop myself, or formulate a plan, I was up on my feet and charging towards Julie with an excuse.

“Julie, you don’t understand,” I pleaded, “I have to stay in character, I need to seem human.”

Julie scoffed and shook her head - more for the audience than me.

“What? Humans eat other humans all the time! Jeffrey Dahmer, Andrei Chikatilo, and a whole bunch of others,” she said, “you don’t even need to change back. The producers got you this handy little tool.”

A fourteen-pound framing hammer was forced into my hands, crushing my last attempt at an excuse. Everyone but Ian was looking at me, as I stood there with the hammer, all grinning and egging me on with their eyes.

“You only have to eat some of the brains, it’s the best part anyway,” Julie said, “I’d hate to break you too far from character.”

Then the chanting began: kill, kill, kill. I don’t know who started it, but now there was no stopping it, not until I’d made up my mind. I gripped the hammer, hard, and looked at the back of Ian’s head. If I fessed up, and told the truth, would they kill him and me anyway? Did it make more sense to just kill him and get it over with, then try to live with the guilt afterwards?

Maybe it did make more sense. But that’s not what I did.

“Stop! I yelled, the hammer clattering to the ground, "and please listen!”

The room fell silent, and Julie started looking at me like she knew something terrible was about to happen.

“I have a confession,” I said, “you’re not gonna like it, but you have to listen to me, and hear me out. I’m not one of you, okay? I’m not a Rugoba. I’m a human being, it was all a big god damn lie.”

Julie stared at me, devastated, and said “wait, Travis, what do you mean? The Red Weekend…”

“The Red Weekend is a shitty movie that ruined my life!” I blurted out without thinking, “it was all special effects makeup, none of it was real. The guy just knew about you, somehow, and you’re what he based his design on. I was never a Rugoba. I’m sorry for misleading you all like this, it’s just a huge misunderstanding.”

In an instant, the crowd devolved from low, worried murmurs to riotous shouting. Julie tried in vain to comfort the yelling crowd, to stop them baying for my blood, but it was too late. I’d taken one of their greatest living legends, and torn it apart in front of them. I’d gone from being a hero to the devil himself.

Running was the first thing on my mind, but before the thought even properly formed, something had struck the back of my head - and everything went black.

***

When I finally came to, I was staring out of thick, iron bars into the furious amphibian face of Julie Forrester. The room was dark, so I could barely see beyond her, staring into the cage and mugging at me. She’d lost her grey suit, and was wearing a white outfit with a skirt instead, her whipping tail protruding from the back, lashing at the air.

“I bet you feel really clever right now, Travis, well done,” she said, her voice devoid of the lightness and humour I’d known it for, “you made me look like an absolute clown on my own show. I trusted you, I invited you on, and you just humiliated me.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, my thoughts still returning in brief snatches, “I really am, Julie, I didn’t mean for it to happen like that. Aside from the whole ‘eating humans’ thing, I like you as a person. I wouldn’t want your credibility to take a hit.”

She ran her claws across the bars of the cage, and shook her head.

“Too little, too late, I’m afraid,” she said, “but you can still make it up to me, in other ways.”

“I want to, Julie, I really do.”

Julie pulled back from the bars a little and seemed to pace around the cage, her footsteps heavy and wet, but as regular as the ticking of a clock’s pendulum. It’d drive you mad if you listened for long enough.

“What you said earlier about the entertainment industry is true, Travis, even if the rest was all lies,” she said, her tone gravely seriously, “if you want to make a good living, one job won’t cut it. You need to be a real polymath to put bread on the table. Thankfully, I’m a Rugoba of all trades: Midnight Rendezvous is just one of the shows I host.”

“What’s the other one?” I asked, out of morbid curiosity.

She stopped, pressed her terrible amphibian face against the bars, and grinned.

“You’ll see,” she said, “you’ll see real soon, Travis. I’m gonna make you into something so much better…”

As Julie started to walk away from the cage, one by one the studio lights began to turn back on, cracking into life. The couch and L.A. backdrop was replaced by a homely-looking kitchen, fitted with a gorgeous array of utensils and hardware. Julie produced from the front pocket of the white apron she was wearing a long and magnificent chef’s hat, and placed it onto her huge, slimy head.

The words “COOKING WITH JULIE!” were emblazoned across the front of her kitchen unit.

My fear had already passed, all that remained now was that kind of dissonant, slaughterhouse calm that sets in when you already know you’re finished. All that’s left to do is wait. But, I took a strange comfort in knowing that this Halloween night The Red Weekend would finally be coming to an end.

I closed my eyes and exhaled, as the director called “lights, camera, action.”

[overwatch-imagines-hub]

Overwatch Men: Reaction to S/O Being a Burlesque Dancer

I keep forgetting I made a poll and am supposed to be writing these. <D

Also, electro swing music is the best inspiration music for this headcanon set.

~~~

Reinhardt

Big German teddy bear can’t handle this information

He blushes just from thinking about it

When you invite him to a show, he goes solely to make sure no one gets too rowdy

He totally doesn’t go to watch you just to watch

And he totally doesn’t sit right in front of the stage to watch

And he totally doesn’t get all flustered again

And he totally doesn’t freak out when you toss one of your large feather fans to him

Or your skirt

After your performance is over, he does meet you in your room

To give you a progress report, not to get all blushy when you tease him for keeping your skirt but not the fan

He may or may not ask for you to dance for him sometime that’s not in front of a bunch of other people

He totally doesn’t freak out and change the subject when you offer to dance for him right there on the spot

McCree

He was hella jealous when you told him because you’d been doing this for a while and he’d had no idea

However, after the initial shock is over, he almost begs you to put on a show for him right now

(I did mention in an earlier post that one of his favorite fantasies is his s/o stripteasing/dancing for him so oh boy)

You tease him by acting all innocent

Also you don’t have any of your equipment or costumes or music here at home, so how could you possibly give him a proper show?

He’s legit devastated

And then you invite him to one of your shows that evening

Boy howdy

He’s as the edge of his seat and completely mesmerized by you

You move so gracefully and confidently

Also you threw the tight-fitting jacket that hid a sequinned brazier under it, so bonus points for that

He shows up to every show from them on

Afterwards, he comes to your dressing room and either rails you there or drags you home to do so

Zenyatta

He’s so interested in this

Not even in any sexual aspect; he just thinks it’s exotic and fascinating

Of course, he has you confirm that it’s safe and that you’re enjoying your time doing it, just to make sure

He also would love to see you perform, so he probably plans to surprise you at one of your shows sometime

Not gonna lie, the boy’s sensors get a little warmer when he watches you up on stage doing your saucy thing

He’s absolutely mesmerized by your movements and the big feathered fans you control with ease to hide the most intimate parts of your body

Tbh, you’re pretty much a desirable but untouchable god and he’s very pleased that he’ll be the only spirit worthy to touch you once you’ve left your pedestal

Hanzo

When you first tell him about it, he’s quite interested and asks if you’d show him some of your steps then and there

You do but you show him exactly that, just a few steps

Then you invite him to come watch a show so he can get the full experience

He’s basically Zenyatta and McCree combined in this situation

He finds you angelic and and absolutely gorgeous

But he also wants to view exactly what’s behind that satin robe that you keep partially slinking out of, then shying away

Be prepared to buy some burlesque items to keep at home so you can give him personal shows before he ravishes you

Junkrat

You have to explain to him what it is

While explaining, he probably pops a halfer as his thoughts begin to run

You’re a bit iffy about inviting him to a show but you do so anyway

You warn him that if he doesn’t behave, he doesn’t get to see your burlesque work ever again

After that conversation he probably has you pinned up against the nearest wall

At your performance, he does behave decently

He gets a bit snarly with a couple of his fellow viewers when they get a bit rowdier than he’d like

But after he gets a warning, he sits pretty from then on, if not a bit sulky

He also rounds up literally every item you discard to keep for himself

After the show he comes to pout to you

He’s a bit upset that people have gotten to see you perform before he did

But he eventually gets over it

Lucio

Can he perform with you sometime?

He’s not even joking

He thinks he’d be a pretty damn good burlesque dancer himself

Either that or he could create a mix tape of smooth beats for you to create a routine to

Otherwise, he supports you wholeheartedly

He thinks your confidence up there on the stage is sexier than anything you’re wearing

And he tells you so after the show’s over

He probably comes to you the next day with several mix tapes he’s designed for you

Roadhog

Not gonna lie, he’s not a fan

Not because of your profession but because he’s possessive and think he’s the only one who should be allowed to see that much skin of yours

He’ll ask you if there’s not something else you could do but, of course, he doesn’t try to stop you

If you get upset by this, he apologizes and explains himself and his discomforts

He goes to your performance the next time you have one and becomes an unintentional bodyguard

No one’s too rowdy, most just quietly marvel

He himself gets pretty impressed

Also you’re just so prettyyyyy 

Look at his little piggy go, strutting themselves around on stage

After the show he comes to find you and apologizes again for being rude, then says you’ve proved him wrong

Then he asks you politely before stealing some of the burlesque equipment to take home

Genji

Ah, it bring him back to his playboy days

Except you’re his romantic partner and not just some fling he’s going to have later, which makes the experience all the better

Awed by your performance but he’d also not except any less from his perfect s/o

Will probably ask to help/dance with you during your practices, which usually ends up with you both just grinding all up on each other

Which is fine

Reaper

He gets a little flustered and even more so jealous

He’s a little upset that you waited to only tell him now and that it’s been going on for a while already

He’s pretty pleased when you invite him to come watch one of your performances though

When he comes to watch, he hangs back and watches from the shadows so he’s not really noticed by everyone else

Throughout the performance, he shadows up behind viewers he doesn’t like and threatens them via a smoky cloud by their ear

Needless to say, the population in the building has dwindled a bit by the end of the performance

He cheers and whistles the loudest when you’re finished performing though, which scares the shit out of some people who didn’t know he was behind them

He’s overall very proud and impressed

Soldier 76

Thank god he’s wearing his visor instead of his glasses during the moment you told him about your profession

Otherwise, you would’ve gotten a great view of his beet red face

Just the thought of you doing some saucy moves in a showy, revealing outfit was enough to get the old boy pretty hot and bothered

Of course, he forces himself to get his shit under control

Shame on him

When you invite him to a show, he gets shy and flustered again

He says it’d look creepy for an old man like him to go to a performance like that

You have to reassure him and tell him that you’d absolutely love for him to be there 

If he does stop by (which isn’t a 100% possibility), he watches from the back

At the same time, he has to be somewhat close so his cloudy vision doesn’t effect his watching too badly

You’re probably the most beautiful things he’s ever laid eyes on, though that’s always been the case

Instead of staying and watching it all, he probably leaves halfway through to sneak into your dressing room and surprise you when you get finished

He just kind of greets you with a hug and a small kiss (he’s still a bit flustered), then tells you how wonderful you did

After you’ve changed and get ready to leave, he gives you his jacket and offers you his arm

Also he may or may not have taken a couple of those fancy fans

[myaekingheart]

summer road trip 2018 ; day six

So, thankfully today went way better than yesterday. Big plus. I woke up super early (much to my chagrin) thanks to a growling stomach so my parents and I had our breakfast and then got our showers and got dressed, all that good stuff. My hair was much more cooperative today and didn’t look nearly as bad as I feared it would (though one picture my mom took of me would seriously beg to differ). While my grandparents went down to the clubhouse for the bocce ball tournament, my parents and I decided to hit up the nearest mall. I was on a mission to get this t-shirt from Spencer’s that I saw on their website a week or two ago, but ended up getting a little more than I expected. My mom nearly had a heart attack when I told her I didn’t pack any jeans (all my long pants are leggings these days) so she suggested I go buy another pair or two to have on the trip. So we headed to the mall, stopping at the local CVS to buy me new shampoo beforehand, which is also another story. One of the only things the girl who fucked up my hair did right was let me know that a very potential reason behind my dry scalp issues could very well be because of the shampoo I use. I’ve been using Suave shampoo and conditioner for years, which she said apparently caused her to have dry scalp issues and highly recommend I change it. When I told my mom how I was thinking about this a lot lately, she said that she stopped using the same brand because she saw something about a lawsuit from years ago that their hair products caused people to have really bad dry scalp and lose their hair. So that was a definite reason for me to change. I ended up getting the same shampoo and conditioner that I had used back in middle school, Herbal Essences Body Envy, because as far as I remember that never gave me any trouble and it smelled really nice and made my hair bouncy which, with my current haircut, I think might help. I definitely would love to see some more volume in my hair, to be quite honest. But anyways, after that we headed down to the mall where I got a little sidetracked and admittedly spent way more money than I ever intended. We stopped at Charlotte Russe first because I really like their Refuge shorts and pants. The only issue with those is that the sizing is so goddam finicky, it’s hard to buy a pair of pants you know you will fit without trying them on first. I didn’t necessarily want to go through the hassle of filtering in and out of dressing rooms but I knew if I didn’t, I could very well buy something that, once I got home, I’d find didn’t actually fit. I cycled through a couple pairs of pants ranging from three different sizes. Only one pair fit, the one I ended up getting. Funny enough, I actually already own this same exact style in the same exact size just in a different color. At least the positive part then is that I already know I like this particular style of pants and they fit me pretty perfectly. Trying on pants like this was kind of taxing on my ED recovery, though. I have been eating but I still feel like I’m not where I should be, and because the sizing on these pants are so finicky, after a while it got really old finding every pair being too large on me, even some of the size zeros. It makes me wonder what the fuck I’m doing wrong, like how can I be so fucking far gone that a size motherfucking zero is too big? I just have to remind myself it’s all about perspective. I have size zeros from this same brand that are tight on me, and size fours that fit well, so I don’t know what the hell they’re doing. All I know is that all of this would probably be completely solved if I just gained some motherfucking weight. But let’s not get into that again. This is supposed to be a positive story. But anyway, I did at least find one pair that fit nicely, which was actually a pleasant coincidence because they were tan jeans which I needed. I tried to buy a pair of tan corduroy leggings a while back to wear with one of my Violet cosplays (that pink outfit she wears at the end of the first movie) but the smallest size was still way too big on me and they wouldn't shrink in the wash so they were kind of a lost cause. I could certainly wear a belt with them, regardless of whether they had belt loops or not (they don't) but you could always tell when I did because there was some unflattering bulk underneath. So finding a pair of tan pants that actually fit was awesome. I also found a really cute loose crop top that I ended up buying, as well, which was a double score since I've found much of Charlotte Russe's clothes don't appeal to me like they used to anymore. I feel like these days they cater to that basic bitch style which I definitely do not fall under whatsoever. I only really still go there for their incredible leggings, especially when they're on sale for $5, and their shorts/pants. Other than that, I probably wouldn't be caught dead wearing anything else in there except the occasional cute shirt I find. But anyways, after this I decided to stop in Hot Topic just to look around. Truthfully, I stepped foot in there mainly because I wanted to see if I could find any Violet Pop Figures, and maybe get lucky in finding a Chase figure (but let's face it, they're practically impossible to get your hands on). I unfortunately didn't find any but I did find something equally as great. I love the band Beartooth and I've been wanting a t-shirt for a while now, but I had a hard time finding a good one that I liked that was affordable. I found one or two cute ones on their official website that I wouldn't have minded ordering but when I looked on Hot Topic's website, they only had, like, one and I didn't think it was really worth getting. Well, as I was perusing the store today my eyes drifted upwards to the t-shirt design display on the back wall and lo and behold, there was a really cute Beartooth t-shirt. I wasn't sure if I wanted to spend another $20 but I fell in love with the shirt and I had been wanting one so badly that I couldn't resist. So I am now the very proud and pleased owner of a Beartooth t-shirt and I am outrageously excited about it.(There was also this really cute interaction with a 12 year old boy who was in line in front of me that you can read about here).  At this point, I wasn't sure if it was worth even stepping foot in Spencer's to get the one thing I intended to buy on this trip in the first place, seeing as how I felt I had already spent an obscene amount of dough on stuff I didn't plan on buying. However, I also really wanted this shirt from Spencer's. And I mean, hey, I'm on vacation. I can afford to live a little...right? So basically I bought the shirt from Spencer's anyways because fuck it, treat yourself, making for a total of one pair of pants and three shirts acquired on this very successful mall trip, plus new shampoo and conditioner from beforehand. After that, I told my dad to restrain me from buying anything else because I knew my wallet would kill me if I did anymore shopping. I honestly don't even want to look at my bank account right now. We left the mall around 12:30pm and then headed back to my grandparents' house for lunch. Lunchmeat sandwiches and chips, just like every other day. This time, however, they took care to present the meat and cheese on a plate rather than just tossing the packages on the table. I guess having my parents here makes them step up their game a bit or something. Lunch was alright, but afterward my grandparents quickly became...kind of a nuisance. I know that's horrible to say because they're old and should be respected, and this is their house, after all, but they've been scrambling to prepare for this big high school reunion (that hardly anyone is probablyg going to be at because the list of names of everyone whose passed away is, like, three pages long) and the stress from their hectic planning is very palpable. My Pop Pop is the kind of man who is very set in his ways, and he likes to do things the old-fashioned way, so when he had to type up some labels or something, rather than doing things the easiest possible way and typing everything up on the computer, he broke out his electric typewriter. My Pop Pop is also the kind of man who never learned how to properly type, so jams the keys with both of his index fingers and it takes him fifteen times longer to type anything out because of it. So after lunch he sat down at the kitchen table with this archaic machine and began slowly and loudly typing out whatever he needed to do. And then my grandmom had a fit because she was typing up something on the computer and when she went to go print, the printer did that thing where it makes some of the lines of texts a little squigglier than they should be and she was freaking out about saying she didn't know why it was doing that when it looks fine on the computer and wondering how to fix it. She legit had to call the label company yesterday because she was trying to type the names of everyone in the reunion onto label templates in Word but whenever she typed the first line, it was always in the center of the box and she didn't have room to put anything else. It legit took three hours and a phone call to the company for her to figure out that the lines of text moved up when you hit enter. And then she doesn't know you're supposed to save your work multiple times while you're working on it, so when Word stopped responding she first walked away and said she was going to wait and see what happened, and then when it finally shut down and restarted she lost all of her work. Today, though, was perhaps even less tolerable, though, because of the loud clacking on the typewriter from my Pop Pop and my grandmother freaking out about the squiggly text and then they were shouting to each other from across the house and they're old and have hearing aids so they have to shout really loud and it was just absolute chaos, truthfully. Hence why as soon as we could, we ran back out of the house to go do some of our own stuff. Seeing as I've been cooped up here for the past two days, it was nice to get fresh air and some relief from their insanity. We went down to this historic little shopping village not far from my grandparent's house where we honestly had the absolute best day. Because we went on a weekday in the off season, there weren't too many people there which meant peace and quiet. The weather was wonderful-- a little chilly but not so cold that it was unbearable, and sunny as all hell but not hot enough to be unbearable, either. My only complaint weather-wise was probably just the wind, since that was pretty intense at certain points, but that's a small complaint, really. We wandered around and peeked in a lot of the stores. There was a candle store and a Christmas store with all of these really cute, kitschy collectibles and a sweet shop where we bought some candy and a little store selling cute little yard signs. My favorite, by far, however, was this place called the Underground. It was kind of like Hot Topic's hipster, less popular cousin who outgrew their teen emo phase. All the walls were bright red and there was punk rock music blasting from the speakers and really cool t-shirts, a lot of which were punk rock themed representations of love for the state. There were two racks of t-shirts that were on sale for $5 that I couldn't resist looking at, and lo and behold of course I found one I fell in love with. And seeing as it was only $5, obviously I could not resist. It was really fucking cute, though, okay? It says "Stay True" on the sides and in the center has a silhouette of the state made up of skeletons. It overall has this very rockabilly, old-style tattoo look to the graphics design that's really fucking cute. After this, we wandered into the Ireland store and checked out what they had in there, which was nice because my family's Irish and so we're very connected to our heritage. And then I found a celebrity memorabilia shop that I just had to wander into with the hope of finding something Audrey. Fortunately, my hopes were not unwarranted. There was a small corner of very little Breakfast at Tiffany's merchandise that I was kind of uninterested in but there was a Holly Golightly magnet that I decided I liked that my mom offered to get for me. As we were checking out, the woman working the register pointed out that in the glass display case at checkout, she had tons of souvenir celebrity driver licenses/ID cards and that Audrey was one of them but that she sells out fast. At first she didn't think she had any left because she had trouble finding it in the collection, but then she was mistaken and did, in fact, find that she had one left. It was super cheap and I fell in love with it so my mom offered to buy me that, as well. The rest of the afternoon, I kept joking that I finally got a driver's license and that if I got pulled over, I'd just flash my Audrey card and be on my way because I look so much like her already anyways. Not that I'd ever actually do that, of course, I just thought it was a funny thought and I was really in love with the purchase. The entire place was honestly really nice, though, and all of the buildings were beautiful little colonial houses. There was a lake with paddleboats and a shop in a building with a waterwheel and quaint little bed-and-breakfasts. There was an even an arcade where my mom won me a little purple rubber duck from the claw machine and I paid a dollar to play a Fast and Furious motorcycle game in which I got fifth place. Overall, it was just a really wonderful day and I had so much fun, it just completely made up for my shit emotions from yesterday. Before we left, we stopped at this little seafood restaurant in the middle of nowhere where my dad used to always go with his parents as a kid and they each got one beer at the "boat bar." The place was pretty quiet, so it was very relaxed which was nice. There were a lot of windows, as well, which meant great views of the lake and wide open fields surrounding the place. After having lived in a busy college town for the past nine months, it was honestly so fucking refreshing to go someplace so rural and secluded for once. Someplace where I don't have to hear cop cars and shitty rap music playing every goddamn minute. Just absolutely peaceful. My parents desperately wished they could stay longer, and even eat at this restaurant since it holds such fond memories for my dad but we had to get home for dinner as my grandmother was making a roast and we'd never hear the end of it if we were late. She was going to make it last night if my parents' were back by dinner but since they were out and didn't get home until 8pm, we had spaghetti instead. Dinner was so much fancier than I expected. Because of how many people we now have, and how small the kitchen table is, we ate in the dining room instead with the fancy lace table cloth and the tall pink candles and fake flower centerpiece. We had the roast, baked potatoes, broccoli, and dinner rolls which was pretty good, but seeing as I'm not a huge fan of roasts to begin with (or broccoli that's not smothered in cheese), it wasn't my favorite meal. I still tried to eat as much as I could fathom anyways. For dessert, we had cherry pudding cake which was honestly fucking delicious, and my mom broke out the Bailey's chocolate malt ball things she bought at the candy store. I had never had Bailey's before so when I tried one, it was a totally new experience. I just wish someone had told me how much Bailey's tastes like coffee. I despise coffee and so the minute I stuck the thing in my mouth and bit down and all the liquid in the center filled my mouth, I felt like I was going to be sick. I had to run to the kitchen and spit it out in a paper towel, then chug some water and scarf down the pudding cake just to get the taste out of my mouth. So at least the pudding cake was delicious and definitely did the trick or else I would've been in huge trouble. As for my parents, or at least my mom, she was a hot mess by this point. One of the friends she met up with the other day has a father who makes his own wine which is dangerous enough for my addicted mother. She had two glasses of red wine at dinner that she had bought...somewhere and then with dessert, she had her friend's father "Chocolate Cherry Truffle" wine and damn was she feeling it. My mom doesn't get "drunk" anymore, necessarily, so much as she gets "tipsy." Her usual plateau is at three glasses of wine and I guess she's built up a tolerance to it to where she doesn't really get hangovers anymore, at least from wine. She used to, though. Funny how drinking something so much stops giving you the adverse effects after a while. But anyway, I could tell my mom was reaching the tipsy point and I was truthfully not very pleased. I hate when she gets like this, and fortunately enough living far away means I don't have to deal with it every day like I used to but that still doesn't mean I'm not bothered anymore when I do have to deal with it. I don't know if it was that or something else but after dinner, I honestly got really crabby? I kind of kept to myself the rest of the night, sitting on my air mattress in the formal living room and doing whatever. My grandparents watched the newest episode of NCIS tonight which honestly was really emotionally taxing and I didn't even fucking watch it. When I was in middle school, my best friend and I were in love with NCIS. We'd have sleepovers where we'd watch the episodes together and then we'd play pretend. I was always Abby. Always, always, always. She was my absolute favorite. I even remember one time we slept over at my best friend's grandmother's house and we made little fake NCIS badges and mine had Abby's name on it. I just loved her so fucking much, everything about her: her goth style, the music she'd play in her lab, her farting hippo. She was just the absolute coolest and I desperately wanted to be like her. I guess in a way Abby was another vehicle into my transition into the type of person I am today, since I wasn't really very alt back in middle school-- I never had the typical emo phase, though I became friends with emo kids in eighth grade-- but I feel like there was always something pulling me back into that scene that, as a little kid, I always yearned to be a part of (when I was four, I decided that as a teenager I would paint my walls black and listen to Green Day and Evanescence all the time and that I'd cut my hair shoulder-length and dye the tips bright red). Even though I haven't kept up with the series, and I haven't sat down to even watch reruns in years, Abby still holds such a special place in my heart and means so much to me so when I heard Pauley Perrette was leaving the show, I was admittedly a little sad but it didn't register in my brain the potential ways they would have her leave the show. As her final episode drew nearer and nearer, I kept seeing things on facebook about her saying goodbye to the character and the high-running emotions, how everyone would need multiple boxes of tissues, and something calling her an "angel" on the show's official facebook page. I suddenly grew terrified that they were going to kill her off. I was in the other room when the episode started, and I heard gunshots and people saying Abby was in horrible condition or whatever. I was convinced she was going to die and that was something I could not stand. I started envisioning her in the hospital bed with Gibbs at her bedside, and suddenly she'd start struggling and her heart rate would increase and then she wouldn't be able to breathe and then she'd flatline and that would be the end and Gibbs would tuck her hippo under her arm or something, and then at the funeral someone would make a quip about "Now we're all dressing like Abby" wearing black to the funeral and I just...my mind was racing and I couldn't stand to think that they'd actually do that even though I was 99% positive that would be the way things went. I was so anxious about it, and the thought of this was so goddamn intolerable, that I shut myself out from everyone and plugged in my screamo loud enough to block out the TV so that I wouldn't have to see or hear anything. I wanted to avoid Abby dying at all fucking costs. I didn't want to know. The hour in which the episode took place in felt like fucking forever and I kept checking the clock to see how much longer I had before it would all be over and I'd know if my suspicions were correct. The minute the episode was over, my mom came over and captured my attention with the verdict (spoilers ahead): she didn't die. For a second, I thought she was playing a trick on me. I thought she was only telling me what I wanted to hear so that I wouldn't be upset because let's fucking face it, if she did, in fact, die, we all know I would've treated it like I just lost a best friend I hadn't spoken with in years and would've cried my eyes out and been depressed for three days straight. My grandmom and dad confirmed that this was true, though (as well as the internet) and a gigantic swell of relief just completely washed over me. I was just so fucking happy she wasn't dead. Because of how panicked I was during the show's duration, though, it left me kind of emotionally drained a little short-fused the rest of the night. I stayed on my air mattress on my laptop for the rest of the night listening and waiting for when I could finally get some alone time. I desperately needed time to myself to recharge, and to recount the day's events like I'm doing right now. My parents went to bed around 9:30pm, which is typical. They can't stay up as late as they used to, and when they do it feels weird and unnatural. I was hoping my grandparents would head in shortly after but...nope. Of course not. Why would they? Instead, they were up until almost midnight. They can't hear for shit so they had the TV blasting all the negative bullshit on the news and I wanted to lowkey shoot myself. Despite how much fun I had today, I woke up way too early for my own good and didn't get enough sleep last night so by the time 10pm rolled around, I was super tired and was contemplating not even journalling the day so I could just get some sleep. It's hard to do that, though, when the old folks have the volume up to 80. It wasn't until 11:30pm when my Pop Pop decided to turn off the TV and head in, but that didn't mean my grandmom was following him. She was up for an extra 20 or so minutes dealing with the dishes so I still didn't quite get solace and silence. When she finally did head in, I thought I was finally in the clear but, again...not quite. Their bedroom door isn't far from where my air mattress is situated, and because the walls are thin and they can't hear for shit, I could hear their entire 20minute conversation before bed. Granted, I wasn't paying close enough attention to make out the content but I heard the droning voices just the same. I didn't get true quiet until about 12:15am which quite frankly drove me completely nuts. I am a very introverted person and I very desperately need at least peace and quiet in order to rest and recharge. The longer I stay at my grandparent's house, the more I'm finding that peace and quiet is hard to come by here. I love them to death, I really do, but at the same time a part of me is kind of excited I only have two days left here so I can finally get back home and fall back into the groove of my regular, everyday life where I'll be with my boyfriend and we can have our own alone time doing our own things and it's the same routine sounds that I can easily block out rather than elderly banter. I don't know, man, I know I sound insanely bitter and I really don't mean to. I don't want to be that person, you know? But I just...I get frustrated sometimes. At least now everyone is in bed, though, and I am the only one awake so I can just lay back and relax and spend some alone time...for the next five minutes before I completely pass out, at least. Because I have to wake up early and do it all again (the running around) tomorrow. I guess keeping busy is just a double-edged sword. 

[rnaryjune]

so there’s an asoue tag game going on and im doing it hell yea hell y ea

favorite book in the series: I think The Reptile Room, probably because it was likely the happiest point for the Baudelaires in the series...before it all went to hell.

when did you read them for the first time: ider honestly...i think it was when the movie was announced? cause i think i was into jim carrey as a comedian back then?? i dunno

favorite character: I think it might actually be Monty; come to think of it, this is probably a large part of the reason why I put RR for my fave book in the series.

kit/dewey or kit/olaf: Kit/Olaf is tempting, however it begs the question of why in the world Kit would be attracted to a man who apparently resembles at least one of her brothers??

favorite quagmire: Isadora. Cartography and Journalism just aren’t as relatable for me as Poetry is.

favorite baudelaire: honestly, probably Sunny. All the kids are great but she’s just so damn witty like how could anyone NOT love her?

favorite snicket: Oh man that’s hard. I like all of them.

did you see the 2004 movie in theaters: i dragged my mom to see it before it broke my heart with its terribleness

thoughts about the movie: many thoughts which i’ve said before, but put simply it has its good parts but the bad pacing and self-dismissiveness are major roadblocks

favorite quote: Memento Mori....idc if it doesn’t count that phrase has stuck with me ever since i read it in this series

have you ever met daniel handler: no

thoughts about ATWQ: Never read any of the supplementary books (Beatrice Letters included) so no thoughts. (Do wanna read them though)

favorite ATWQ character: n/a

favorite moment in ASOUE: two full pages of darkness. absolutely legendary.

would you ever get an eye tattoo: ya know i never considered it but yea that’d be a good one, huh. i mean im not one for tattoos but that’d be rad.  fire-fighter or fire-starter: fire-fighter, I would presume

least favorite character: The person i copied this from said Nero and i was erasing it but honestly? yea, I’d probably say Nero too. Like I could reasonably handle practically anyone else in the series but Nero is just insufferable to the nth degree.

did the quagmires survive: yes, of course they did, every good person survived, obviously :’’’’’)

in your opinion, what is the great unknown: I think when I did my reread I just automatically assumed it was the Incredibly Deadly Viper, and then when I was going through asoue wikis in preparation i read that apparently the great unknown is revealed to be a cryptid of some sort in one of the supplementary books??? so probably Ink’s great-grandfather or something idk

did you like the way the series ended: when i first read the books, i was disappointed by the lack of answers. but now i have a greater appreciation for ambiguity, so yes.

what question do you most want answered by handler: WHO HAS THE SUGAR BOWL. (That’s my more superficial answer, but tbh I’m okay with a lot of the questions that were left unanswered. It’s just the way the asoue world is, there are things that cannot be answered until the right time, and sometimes that right time is never. Not to mention that uncertainty and lack of stability are cornerstones of the universe.)

what are you most excited for about the netflix series: Honestly, just seeing a visual adaptation past book three. That and production design and easter eggs and AHHHHHHHHHHH

binge watching or spacing out the episodes: ...i legit made sure i got the weekend off from work SPECIFICALLY to binge watch lmao

favorite dedication: i’d be lying if i said my mind didn’t instantly go to “Darling, Dearest, Dead”