#like 'why did you buy your dogs' because i wanted to and it fit my lifestyle best to do so please fuck off

[darkwood-sleddog]

the adopt don't shop peoples lack of boundaries for people online is so....lacking. you can think whatever you want privately but do you REALLY need to go on to a post of somebody happy with their new puppy to express your disappointment? Would you say that to somebody's face in real life?

like "why didn't you adopt? *insert sad face here*" is a pathetic thing to say to somebody and robs them of their joy. Just keep your snark private ffs.

[highvern]

Drive Me Crazy

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x f!reader

Genre: smut

warnings: strangers to lovers, virgin!JK, dry humping, oral sex, cum eating

Length: ~3.7k

Note: yes i'm insane. no i won't be taking further questions. thank u @gyuswhore for chaperoning my descent into JK madness

summary: You're not the only one with a shitty dating life. Your driver seems to be having a worse night than you can imagine. But things take a turn for the better in the backseat of his car.

m.list

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked.

“Uber for Y/N?” you ask, stumbling into the backseat. “Thanks. God, you wouldn’t believe the night I’ve had.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” the man, Ian according to the information on the app, gasps. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” You’re a wreck; makeup running, clothes damp from the rain peppering on the window. The last thing you want is some hot guy as your driver for the short journey back to your apartment but at this point you can’t muster the energy to care. 

“Uhhh—”

“You probably don’t want to hear about my shitty night.”

“Well that and—” he starts, cut off before he can say more by your tipsy motormouth. 

“Where does a man get off telling me he isn’t interested in gold diggers when he’s a public school teacher? No offense but what gold?” you ramble. “Not to mention, when I told the waiter to split the bill he asked if I thought he didn’t have any money. Like make up your mind dude.”

“What the fuck?” he asks lowly.

You nod in agreement, hands thrown wide in exasperation. “That’s what I’m saying!”

“That’s fucked up.”

The thickness of his voice doesn’t register in your mind, a broken edgy scratching at the edges of your brain but it doesn’t signal any significant interest “Oh, that's not even the worst part.”

“There’s more?”

“He said ‘I asked too many personal questions.’”

“Like?”

“What he liked to do for fun, if he’s originally from the city, do you like dogs or cats? Literally anything I could think of because apparently he’s allergic to carrying a conversation.” In your hand, your phone rings with an unsaved number. “Hello?”

“Hi, this is your Uber. Did you mean to cancel your ride?”

“What?”

“Ian from Uber? I’ve been circling the block and haven’t found you and you weren’t answering your phone.”

“Oh! I’m sorry I’ll just—cancel. Yep. Bye.” You stare at the equelly unease expression on Not-Uber Driver Ian’s face, muddled brain racing. If he isn’t your driver that means you got into the car with a random man. 

“Who the fuck are you?” you scream. 

“Who the fuck are you?” he yells back.

You fiddle with the door handle, unable to grab a hold with shaky hands. “Oh my god, you’re a kidnapper.”

“I’m not a kidnapper!”

“That’s what a kidnapper would say!” You fumble for the pepper spray in your bag only to find it absent. It’s not your usual bag. It’s the nicer one that barely fits your phone and chapstick. Damn it.

“YOU GOT IN MY CAR,” he argues.

He makes a good point. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I tried but you talk a lot.” 

Another good point.

“Oh my god, what the hell,” you gasp. “Why are you sitting here with the doors unlocked? I could have robbed you.”

“I used my last five bucks to buy this ice cream. Just kill me instead.”

You balk. “That’s so sad.” 

“Yeah, I’m aware.”

“You’re a horrible kidnapper.”

“And you’re a pretty shitty carjacker so I’d say we’re even.”

If he was dangerous he's had plenty of time to prove it. Instead, when he looks back over the center console, all you see is the red rimmed eyes of a kicked puppy with a bird nest for hair. A ridiculous expression for a man of his size but you pity him nonetheless. He’s harmless. Pathetic. But harmless. 

There’s a story about him and you’ve always been curious. “Okay, not-Ian, why are you sitting in a parking lot eating ice cream on a Friday night? Kidnapper thing aside, this is just sad.” 

He’s hot. Even in nothing but sweats and his own misery. The intimidating kind of handsome that people, men and women, pine over. Hand themselves over on a silver platter if he so much as asked.

“Thanks,” he grunts, going for another spoon of ice cream. 

“So why are you upset?” The rain outside intensifies, setting the scene to bare your souls in his cramped Toyota.

“Ugh…” he hesitates. 

“You don’t have to tell me, but I don’t think it can be any more embarrassing than what I just went through.”

“Wanna bet?”

“Why not? If it’s more embarrassing then I won’t steal a bite. Is that chocolate?”

“Cookie dough,” he corrects. “This girl I’ve been talking to ditched me.”

“Because?”

He prepares with a deep breath, steeling himself against whatever motive his fling had. “I’m a virgin.”

“What?” you ask dumbly. Virgin.

Chin tipped back, he swipes at his face in embarrassment. “I told you it's embarrassing.”

“You’re eating your feelings because you’re a virgin?”

“Yes.” He waits for your interjection. When it doesn’t come he hesitantly continues. “And the last person I told laughed in my face and started hooking up with my roommate. So…”

“What a bitch.”

“Yeah. People just assume I’m some kind of man whore.” He explains, head banging against the wheel. “But I’ve never done anything besides… ya know?”

“I have no idea, complete stranger.”

“Like hand stuff.”

“Yeah, you’re definitely a virgin,” you snort. “Move over, I’m coming up.”

Shimmying into the front seat takes more coordination than you’re prepared for. The hem of your dress rises to brazen heights, a draft curling around the edge of your panties. Its a feeling you assumed would be happening with your date and not in the car with a random stranger. But beggars can’t be choosers. At least it’s good ice cream.

He pointedly avoids looking anywhere close to your legs. Polite. Innocent. Virginal. How cute.

“Thank you. That makes me feel so much better.” His eyes roll as you settle into the passenger seat, snatching the container and taking a bite from the same spoon he’d been using. 

“Sorry,” you say after swallowing. “Is it because you don’t want to? Because that girl can go fuck herself then.”

“No, I just, I don’t know. I get nervous? They’re expecting someone who knows what they’re doing and I have no idea. And then all I can think about is what if I’m bad at it which makes me more nervous and then I feel like throwing up.”

“Please tell me you haven’t thrown up on a girl.” 

“Ew, no,” he laughs, taking a bite for himself. “I just make an excuse to slow down and then leave.”

“Okay. Well…” You try to think of something, anything, that could make him feel better. It’s not everyday a stranger spills their guts about lacking sexual experience. “So what if you’re bad? It’s not like you can’t get better.”

“Okay, but what girl wants to sleep with a guy who’s bad in bed?”

“How do you know you’re bad if you’ve never even tried? It’s different if you’re bad and you don’t care. Just tell whoever you're with you’ve never done it before. If they don’t jump at the chance to teach you then they can fuck off.”

“Well, Mina rubbed my face in it—”

“Oh fuck her. She seems like a bitch.”

“You’re not wrong,” he says. 

Rain drizzles on the windshield, obscuring the lights into messy streaks. A flood of memories surrounding your own virginity rush to the forefront.

Your college boyfriend, Jimin, wanted to wait. It was cute. High school sweethearts going to the same school, taking similar classes, holding hands in the library. You thought he wasn’t ready and you respected it, found it endearing that he wasn’t like most of the guys your friends dated that couldn’t wait to do it.

Or you did until you decided to surprise Jimin for his birthday with breakfast in bed and got your own surprise. A girl, naked in his bed, Jimin’s own clothes scattered around the room.

You broke up with him right there. Two days of crying later, you invited your lab partner, the one Jimin couldn’t stand, over.

It was Yoongi that sent a selfie of you two cuddled up in bed to Jimin. He still likes to cash in on that favor whenever he needs a dog sitter.

Yoongi knew there were no feelings involved. A simple favor in the form of revenge against a shitty ex. Maybe not-Ian is your chance to pay it forward. By the looks of things, you wouldn’t be suffering.

“Ya know, some girls like guys who are inexperienced. It’s hot knowing you can teach someone how to be good in bed. Like an ego boost.” You shrug. If he wasn’t looking at your legs before but he sure is now. Pink ears and round eyes, his fingers twitch in his lap as you suck the spoon clean. At least the hour spent shaving your legs isn’t going to waste. “Besides, you obviously care how the other person feels, which is more than some dudes.”

“Why would someone not care if the other person feels good?” he asks, tone laced with disgust. “That seems like the entire point.”

“The world is full of mysteries.”

“My name is Jungkook by the way.”

Jungkook. Fitting somehow. It tastes good on your tongue. Like the cookie dough ice cream.

“Y/N.”

You end up in his lap in true stereotypical fashion. A too long silence, his eyes on your mouth and yours on his. Someone leans forward and now you know Jungkook is a great kisser with even greater upper body strength.

His inexperience shows in the fine details: shaky hands, hesitant tongue, waiting for you to take the lead as not to offend. It’s endearing. Someone as big as him treating you with such gentleness. But it means he’s thinking about messing this up and that’s the opposite of what you want. 

You kiss him deeper, a grip on the side of his neck that he eagerly surrenders too. Your other hand wedges between your chests. Teeth nipping at his lip, you rock against him, palming against the soft cotton sweats until he’s plump in your hand. 

“God,” he chokes. His own hands busy themself on your body, one at the seat of your ass, teasing the edge of your dress where bare skin peaks out while the offers a tight grip at your chest, pinching your nipple in desperate retaliation.

“Feel good?” You rut again, a tease for your own pleasure in the form of Jungkook’s heavy breath. It’s decent contact on your core, not enough to get you off but plenty for right now.

Kissing is well in his realm of experience. Obvious from how quickly he finds his bearings, licking behind your teeth. It’s good. Better than dry humping his thigh in the front seat should be. Vision dark from his hands frantic at your ass, thighs rising to meet every torturous curl against the heat of his lap.

You fall into his shoulder, drool staining his sweater as you pant. “Ever had your dick sucked?”

“No.” 

A vein raises across his neck and becomes your new guidemap. Your hand at his crotch squeezes, his cock twitching at the action. “Do you want to?”

“You don’t have to,” he hisses. 

You squeeze his cock again, enough for a needy drive of his hips in response. “I want to.” 

“Seriously?” he marvels.

“If it’s cool with you.” You nose along his jaw, teeth scraping red over his skin. His stomach dips under your hand. “Get in the back, I don’t need to get caught with your dick in my mouth.”

“Holy shit, don’t say that.” He kisses you again, firmer this time. 

You crawl back through the narrow opening between the front seats, ass on full display for Jungkook’s eyes. The heat of his palm ghosts over your legs but he doesn’t touch. The deliberate arch in your spine isn’t enough to break his self control just yet.

He comes next. The struggle is endearing, half stuck between the seats and wiggling forward. “I think I’m stuck.”

“Why didn’t you just go around?” You snort, grabbing around his arms and pulling to no avail.

“Too late now.”

You're both laughing. Breathless because Jungkook is lodged between the seats with zero hope. “Why are you so heavy?”

He wiggles through with your help, nearly elbowing you in the head in the process. But he’s in the seat with his lap as prime real estate. You try to commandeer the space once again but Jungkook stops you. Instead, he settles between your legs, weight pinning you into the door. Broad shoulders block out the light but you take it in stride, fisting the back of his sweater as he finds your pulse.

“Can I go down on you?” He nuzzles down your throat, mouthing the spots he’s learning make you putty in his hands.

“Yeah, sure,” you hiccup. “That’s fine.” 

Jungkook crams between your legs, bending in half on the floor like a contortionist. The sparse kisses across your thighs would be a blatant tease if nervousness wasn’t rolling off him in waves. He’s eating pussy for the first time and acting like it’s open heart surgery.

“Calm down.” You brush a hand through his hair, attempting to be comforting. 

“I am calm.” A bold faced lie. Even in the darkness of the backseat the signs of his impending nerves are obvious. 

“You’re shaking,” you say. “I’ll tell you what feels good. You’re not gonna mess it up.”

An open mouth on your core kiss leaves you sweating with a weak hum. At least he knows where the clit is. Or has a vague idea of its presence. Jungkook presses his face further into the cotton, suffocating himself without realizing. 

“O-oh,” you hitch.

Humiliation brews from such a visceral reaction to something as basic as a kiss over your panties. But Jungkook is out of his depth here and any reaction will stroke his confidence. 

He ducks away, watching you with rapt attention. You’re the teacher and he’s a student eager for whatever validation that may fall from your lips. “Good?” 

“Yeah, do it again,” you praise. 

He nods before diving back in, throwing your legs over his shoulders for better reach. Your pulse jumps with juvenile eagerness. Like it’s the first time you’re left with a boy unsupervised and his hand is the first real thing to touch you between the legs. It makes you feel dirty. Has your hairline sweat and tongue go dry. A bold wash of his tongue couples the next kiss, hot and wet as he laps against the fabric until your own arousal mixes with spit. 

"You fucking liar,” you croak. The back of your head knocks against the window, hips rolling into his mouth.

"What?” Jungkook asks, leaning back but just barely. His breath fans over your skin, a shiver crawling up your spine. “Did I do something—" 

“It’s good. So good,” you praise. “Touch me more.”

He jumps at the chance. Your panties tear down your thighs, out of the way with some rough maneuvering. Bare for his eyes, Jungkook takes more than a fill before diving in for another taste. But not until he spits on your clit and rubs in the mess with his thumb. Your thighs spread wider to accommodate a hard pass of his mouth, more wet kisses burning your cheeks.

“Jungkook, fuck,” you sigh. “When you said ‘hand stuff’ what did you mean?”

“I’ve touched a vagina before if that's what you're asking.”

You swat his hand. “Don’t say vagina, it makes me feel like I’m at the gynecologist.”

“Sorry, a pussy.”

“Don’t say it like that either, weirdo. Have you fingered one?”

Pointed silence is answer enough.

“It’s okay. I’m not gonna make fun of you. Just don’t put a finger in my ass and you’ll be fine.”

He doesn't laugh at your poor attempt to cut the tension but he releases a weighted sigh, muscles sagging an inch. Better. Instead, he focuses on stroking you to life between your folds, fingertips nudging your bud teasingly. 

“Use your mouth some more and then finger me too,” you beg. 

“Uh—how many? I don't wanna hurt you." He’s unsure despite the obvious twitch in your thighs. It burns depravity through your veins. His innocence is hot. Jungkook doesn’t even realize how fucked up he has you from some softcore porn level touching.

"All of them. I don't care, I’ll tell you if it’s too much."

One hand firm on your stomach, keeping your dress out of the way as he spreads your insides with two. The first strokes are meek. Nothing to scream over but he’s learning and that’s what's important. Seconds tick by and Jungkook finds a hesitant rhythm. Wet noises echo with each slow sheath, reserved but stretching you all the same. The wet strokes of his tongue are there too, placating just in case. A soft curl of his fingers makes your hips cant into his mouth. 

The fogged windows are a dead give away to what's playing out in the backseat. If anyone stumbles down the sidewalk then you’re both dead but Jungkook’s mouth is distracting in the worst way.

And then he licks between his fingers, tongue slipping past his knuckles for a pure taste of your arousal. You go fuzzy at the edges, thighs squeezing tight until he’s forced to keep them spread or risk having his head crushed.

“Oh–fuck me, god.”

It’s not fair. For him to be good at this so quickly. To delude himself into thinking he could possibly be bad, trying to convince you he’d be bad. Complete unfair how ill prepared you were for Jungkook worshiping your pussy like he’s never tasted anything better.

He really needs to be more confident because, in the cramped back seat of his car, you’re losing your mind and it’s barely been ten minutes.

“Can I—” he asks around your clit.

“Do whatever you want, just don’t stop,” you ramble. “Jungkook, fuck.”

A hand of your own sinks into his hair, angling his chin for better access. Wet echoes fill the car, sharp mewls from your lips adding to the noise. Nerves blazing, your ride his mouth for all its worth. Eager slippery circles of his tongue against your clit intensify, built on praising moans of his name.

“Fuck. Tastes good,” he grunts. A squeeze of your hand, the one not pulling his hair and then he’s finding your chest, blind groping until you guide him to your nipple and curve into the sting of his grip. He twists it. Hard. 

You want to cry. The sweat suck of his mouth, fingers confidently curling it that spot that makes the air thinner in your lungs. Moans die between your teeth. Too quick into the next sensation to revel. There isn’t a thought other than Jungkook, Jungkook, Jungkook.

“Jungkook!” you cry, grinding into his fingers. Your teeth clench as a third one stretches that extra inch. Stiff in the thighs, you force yourself down into the friction. His tongue hardens, perfect for use as you hump his face weakly.

Your legs kick, scrambling under the sharp pleasure. He’s got you melting into nothing right on his carseat. Jungkook doesn’t lean back to ask for more confirmation; just takes the signs for what they are and keeps going with renewed stamina at the promise of your pleasure. 

“I’m gonna—oh, god. Yessss,” you hiss. Nails sharp against the back of his neck, Jungkook buries his face in your cunt. 

You go rigid, voice breaking into a desperate whimper. Jungkook has the sense to keep going, lashing at your clit over and over with each desperate pulse of pleasure through your veins. Flashes flare behind the darkness of your eyes squeezed tight. You make a few more desperate noises, lurching in his hold before falling lip and worn.

“Fuck, okay. Okay,” you whine, pushing him away from your core before the stimulation becomes too much.

His mouth is drenched, cheeks and chin smeared with your orgasm. A flash of tongue collects some of the mess but you drag him into a kiss before he can go for seconds. First time eating pussy and he’s one for one. If that doesn’t help his confidence then nothing else will. 

“Give me a second and I’ll blow you,” you pant into his lips. 

“I-it’s okay.”

You pout at the brush off, a deep kiss as you invade his space. “I promise I want to.”

Your hand goes for his pants just to be captured with his own. His fingers are still soaked from your insides. “No, I…I came too.”

“Really?” you ask in awe.

Jungkook is embarrassed again. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. That’s hot.” You kiss him again with a gentle suckle along the curve of his lower lip. Jungkook drinks it in, crowding you back into the door again like you aren’t a pile of mush. Your back hurts from hunching over for so long but you let him keep you tangled up for a little while longer just to feel the shuddering exhale from his nose across your cheek. “Can I see?”

He swallows thickly before rolling down his sweats. The thin fabric of his boxers are wet, sticky under your shaky hand. You dip below the waist band, fingers grazing the limp ridge of his cock. He’s stuck in the inbetween of soft and hard but still hot and heavy in your hold. Your core throbs in interest at the feeling. 

Jungkook shivers as you swipe at the slit, collecting a bead of cum. You want to get your mouth on him but he looks like he might cry if you keep playing with it.

When your hand retreats, rising to your lips for a taste, his eyes round, mouth gaping over silent words. The pink of your tongue comes out, lapping at the thick mess coating your thumb. 

“Is it okay if I get your number?” he asks after the initial shock wears away.

“Yeah,” you snort. “You can have my number. You can give me a ride home too. And we can do that again in my bed.”

The glee on his face is worth the disgusting mess between your thighs. “Hell yeah.”

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie

@gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire

@missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu @sliceofwoozi @writingbarnes

@dokyeomkyeom @christinewithluv @minwonfairy @idkjustlovingbts @wobblewobble822 @futuristicenemychaos

@seungkw1 @horanghaezone @jespecially @scoupsjin @isabellah29

@luvseungcheol @crisle19

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

[chuuyascumsock]

You're All I Want [Week Two] || MINORS DNI

Summary: No one really seems to fit your standards, your roommate, Chuuya, proves otherwise.

Tags: Chuuya Nakahara/Reader, Afab reader, 3.5k Words, Jealous Chuuya, Cunnilingus, Pussy Worship, Overstimulation, Spitting, Cum Eating, Chuuya Comes In His Pants, Petnames (Pretty Girl, Dollface, Sweetheart, etc.), He Should Be The Standard Tbh, Wyd If Your Man Isn’t A 5’3” Ginger Mafia Executive, Perhaps I Projected Slightly Since It’s My Birthday In Two Days And This Is My Gift To Me, Mwah.

Sinners: @pe4rl-diver , @sakui1 , @mxya-dreams , @runs-withscissors , @writingandmusing , @mairia-chan , @dearestwitchtrials

Becoming a mafia executive’s roommate was not on your to-do list, yet here you were— from moving what was left of your belongings into a large empty room to finally redecorating the minimalist aesthetic your roommate’s apartment seemed to take on with him barely being there already due to his occupation. You seemed to fill a space in Chuuya’s life that he didn’t know he was missing.

Now there wasn’t a day he didn’t come home late into the night and not expect you to be up and about doing your own activities, acting as if you were some nocturnal deviant that haunts the night with random shenanigans. He can’t count how many times he’s walked in to find you nursing one of his cheaper bottles of wine and cooking or baking something that you just happened to find while scrolling through social media, offering him some in return with an awkward grin to avoid his wrath for finishing nearly half his bottle. Of course, he was always too tired to fight you on the matter from the day and would take the rest of the bottle for himself before sitting at the island counter to wait for you to finish with whatever you were making.

Or the amount of times you bought something new to add on to the decorations in your apartment, showing it off proudly to Chuuya as you placed it next to the tons of other random vintage-looking trinkets and paintings you got in the past. Though he never complained much because how could he argue about how busy the decorating looked when he was barely there to look at it in the first place?

And when he got the day off, you were there with him most often, binging movie series or begging to go shopping with him because you couldn’t help but marvel at the small stationary sections they had in the stores he frequented. He rolls his eyes and scoffs every time with a snarky, yet harmless comment to make about your buying habits— wondering when you’d ever need a dog themed wine opener, only to realize weeks later that he had been using it every time he opened a new bottle and that you payed close attention to his likes and dislikes. It made him feel a little bit better about allowing you to be his roommate at all, not sure how it would go with how you were when you first met.

He never once thought he’d experience having a woman come up to him while was in the middle of fighting at least five opposing gang members to ask him for directions to the nearest convenience shop. Of course, he almost didn’t have that chance to advance any further with you as he had with the onslaught of bullets that came your way, but with his ability and quick reflexes, he pulled you out of the way to take cover behind a car, chastising you on your social awareness— or lack thereof. Your reasoning behind approaching him out of everyone else in the area was beyond him, and you admit that you don’t even know why yourself, seemingly finding that you were just naturally drawn to him. And he did eventually get you to that convenience store that you were asking about.

How you ended up being roommates? Chuuya likes to blame the fact that he was partly raised by Kouyou to be a gentleman for his choice of offering you a place in his apartment after you met him once more weeks later at a bar, whining about the flooding in your apartment complex that had everyone looking for a new place to live, including yourself. He’d never seen you look so flustered and timid, trying to back track and stumble over how it really wasn’t a big deal and how you were just going to couch surf with one of your friends until you found somewhere else to stay.

If there was something that Chuuya was, it was stubborn, but he learned that night that you were too— going back and forth for nearly an hour with each other until you were immediately persuaded with the promise of him taking you out to ice cream after getting you sobered up and back to your place to collect what was left of your items.

You settled in quickly and easily, your presence becoming one that Chuuya couldn’t ignore if missing.

Which is why he was so put off by your absence one night when he came home to find everything in dead silence with all the lights and TV shut off. It almost felt… empty, and it caught Chuuya off-guard. Maybe you went to bed early for once? But usually when that happened, you always— always left the TV on while you slept away on the couch, curled up cutely beneath one of his expensive throw-blankets. There was the chance that you weren’t feeling well and decided to sleep in your room for once, but after quietly shuffling over to your room and peeking in, your bed was empty— sheets strewn about and your multitude of pillows bunched around your sleeping spot.

Then he thought there was always the possibility that you got one of your random cravings for a specific junk food and went down to the small convenience shop down the road to buy it. But he knows that you always drag him along no matter how tired you both are or how long you have to wait for him to get home because you feel safer with him.

Pacing back into his room, he takes off his hat and gloves, hands sweaty as he takes out his phone. On one hand, he doesn’t understand why his nerves are acting up because you were probably fine— you had other friends— maybe you’re with them. But there’s still that small thought in the back of his mind that there may be something wrong and he knows it’s definitely because of everything that he’s dealt with in the mafia, including watching nearly everyone he’s ever cared about die. He clicks on your name and sends you a text asking where you are, and if you didn’t answer in five minutes, he’d try to call, and then possibly even go looking for you— but you answer almost immediately and he lets out a soft, relieved sigh that he didn’t even realize he was holding in.

“Didn’t you see my note on the fridge? Aww. You miss me that much (＾ｖ＾)?” As he read your message, he could hear your voice clear in his mind, a small huff leaving his nose as he does. Finally being able to relax, he makes his way into the kitchen and turns the light on to see a yellow sticky note plastered to the fridge with your writing in pink glittery ink. “Won’t be home till super late, on a date. Made udon earlier, leftovers in the fridge.”

Letting the information settle in, he only focuses on the first sentences of your note, a blank look on his face as he re-reads it at least three more times.

A date? He didn’t realize you were even interested in that stuff, or maybe he just assumed you weren’t because he wasn’t interested in it due to focusing on the mafia. At least until now. He doesn’t understand the irritation that eats at him at the thought of you spending your free time with some guy that doesn’t know you at all, probably more interested in the thought of what’s beneath your clothes than anything else. But that’s not his business, so he shouldn’t have a say in it. He wasn’t a controlling person— outside of the mafia at least— he thinks. So why does he feel like he deserves to put any of his two cents in on you going out and enjoying yourself?

He’s barely able to sleep with these thoughts running through his head, deciding to drink a glass of wine while sitting on the couch to soothe his nerves. But it doesn’t stop until he hears the front door unlock and open, a pair of heels clicking against the wood floor. Which was interesting because you didn’t own heels— not going out enough to really bother with them. His head turns to look behind him over the back of the couch, sucking in a breath when he catches a glimpse of you in a tight dress, bent over to take your heels off. His head whips around to face straight again and tries to rid of the image burned in his retinas, free hand coming up to rub at his eyes.

Your feet slap against the ground quietly as you walk over to the couch, moving to sit on the other end of it and lean against the arm rest. You slouch over and sigh tiredly, ready to doze off. “How was work?” You ask, voice groggy.

Glancing away, Chuuya avoids looking at you, deciding to focus on his wine. “It was fine… jus’a lot of paperwork today,” He stiffly replies before hesitantly asking in return, “How was your date?”

He could not explain the relief he felt for a second time that night when he heard your groan of disdain, clearly having had a failed date. “It was going well and then after dinner he said that he wanted a blowjob because he was entitled to one after paying for my dinner even though I offered to pay for my own half. So really, he was just a douchebag,” You mumble out as you curl up further against the armrest, tugging a folded up throw-blanket off of the back of the couch to cover yourself with.

A loud scoff escapes Chuuya lips before he comments, “Yeah, sounds like a real piece of work.”

“S’not even the first time this stuff has happened,” And this fact has Chuuya eyeing you.

“You went on more dates?” He tries not to sound like he’s about to burst a vein, but knowing that you’ve gone on more dates than just the one guy has him nearly foaming at the mouth.

Shifting to sit up a bit, you wrap the blanket around your body and tuck your hands under your chin, watching him brew in a small bout of anger. “Yeah— went on a few actually, but they sucked too. I just went earlier in the evening while you were at work. Why’re you getting so worked up?” You hold back the amusement in your voice and let your eyes follow his bare hand to come up and run through his hair.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier? Would’ve kicked their asses,” Chuuya grumbles instead of answering your question directly. It makes you giggle quietly, holding back more laughs when his head whips over to look at you and his face scrunches up. “What? What are you laughin’ about? They’re fuckin’ assholes…” He strains, his cheeks flushing at your small grin.

“Nothing… just think it’s a little funny that you’re getting more upset about it than me,” You point out, moving over to sit closer to him.

“Because— cause…” Chuuya trails off, glancing to the side as his face only grows a darker shade of pink. “Guys can be jerk offs, okay? I would know. And it’s bullshit that they treat you like that.” You can tell that something is making him act unusual from his normal nonchalant demeanor— and it only encourages you to get even closer to him until you’re leaning shoulder to shoulder with him.

You think it’s a little cute that he’s so defensive over you, feeling his body stiffen at how you’re pressed against him before relaxing a bit, but still avoiding eye contact. “It’s fine, I’ll just chill on the dates for a while, no one’s been meeting any of my standards anyway. I’m starting to think I’m a little picky.”

“Yeah? What’s your standards?” He mumbles, staring down at his half full wine class as he waits for your response. But instead, he feels the weight against his body shift, your chest now pressing against his arm and warm breath blowing against the side of his neck. Turning his head to look at you, he sucks in a quiet breath as his heterochromatic eyes meet yours in a stare. You gaze at him with a knowing look, eyelids falling into a lull and pupils flickering down to focus on his lips— and he’s done for.

There is no perception of how much time has passed from Chuuya’s lips meeting yours to him lifting you up by the thighs to carry you off into his room and throw you down onto his bed. Climbing over you to hover above your body, his hands are pushing the hem of your dress up eagerly and fumbling to get his own shirt off, lips moving along yours messily, smacking together loudly as he presses you further into the mattress. Everything about his movements are desperate and impatient, taking you back as you had never seen him like this. You eventually tangle your fingers into his slightly mused hair to pull him off of you, panting loudly as you take in breaths of air.

A low groan rumbles from the back of Chuuya’s throat as he subconsciously moves back down to chase your lips, only to be met with your hand tugging on his hair again and an airy laugh from you. “Chuuya, slow down.”

Chuuya lets out a heavy huff, head falling to rest in the crook of your neck as his hands move up to rub along your sides. “You make it hard, pretty girl– ‘specially with this dress on. God, it drives me crazy knowing you wore this for someone else, s’just not fair,” He groans, fingers dragging down to finally push your dress over your hips to reveal your bare cunt to him. You weren’t wearing a damn thing underneath your dress. Chuuya feels at a loss for words, lips parting and pressing together in attempts to find the words he’s looking for before uttering a soft, “Fuck,” And meeting your gaze. “You’re not wearing anything,” He shakily utters, cock twitching to strain against his pants.

“I kind of forgot to do my laundry last night…” You shrug with a timid grin.

He nearly laughs— it’s just like you to do something like this— but he’s too distracted by the way your hand runs through his hair and legs shamelessly rubbing together to do so, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. He’s quick to decide his next moves at the sight, hands gripping your thighs to spread them open as he shifts himself down the bed to hover between your legs.

There’s a strangled noise that squeaks out from your throat at his impatient movements, cheeks burning when his rough hands press against the insides of your thighs to press your legs against the mattress, leaving yourself on full display for him. “What are you doing?” You slightly squirm beneath him.

“Stop that,” He orders firmly, pressing his hands harder down against your thighs. “I wanna taste you,” He murmurs, lips pressing down just below your belly button before moving down to your drooling cunt, his breath hot on your sensitive skin. If he wasn’t hard before, he certainly was now, grunting at the feeling of his aching length pressed against the mattress.

“You don’t have to do that, Chuuya,” You card a hand through his coppery tresses, tugging them for him to look at you.

Chuuya’s mismatched eyes trail up to meet yours, brows narrowed, face still hovering close to you. “I’m doing this cause I want to, dollface, so quit stalling and let me eat this pretty pussy out,” He huffs, bringing a hand down to spread your slick folds apart with his fingers. “Fuck, Sweetheart, can’t believe I’ve been missing out on this,” He groans, leaning in to place a wet kiss against your core. There’s a deep chuckle that leaves him when your hips jolt faintly under his touch and you bite back a moan. “Filthy girl, you like me kissing on your sloppy cunt like this?” He growls out, lips meet your warm insides again, moving against your labia and dripping entrance lewdly as his tongue slips out to lap up your arousal.

You can’t help but tighten your fingers in his hair, whimpering at the feeling of him making out with your pussy, tongue dragging through your lower lips painfully slow to savor your taste all the while staring up at you intensely through his lashes. “Chuuya…”

Chuuya hums softly against you, parting from your pussy with a soft kiss to your clit. “You taste so fuckin’ good, y’know that, pretty girl? Could’ve been doing this ages ago instead of wasting your time on those other guys,” He sighs, readjusting his arms to wrap around each of your thighs and rest them on his shoulders as he leaned back in to wrap his lips around your throbbing clit. His hips grind subtly into the mattress, desperate to rid of the stiffness in his weeping cock, whining lowly into you.

A gasp slips from your parted lips, hips bucking into him needily. “T-Thought you weren’t interested so I— ah— didn’t say anything. Mm! Shit, that feels really good, Chuuya,” You moan out when he sucks harshly at your sensitive nub, your fingers tangling into his messy hair further as you tug at them.

“Could’ve jus’ asked, doll,” He muffles, detaching his lips briefly to spit a glob of saliva onto your clit, watching it trail down to your entrance before bringing his thumb to swipe it back up to your clit, rubbing it in to mix with your arousal. “Like I’d pass up a gorgeous girl like you,” He trails off, burying himself back into you to plunge his tongue past your tight entrance, smothering your spit slickened nub with his thumb.

Your hips only grind harder against him with each curl of his tongue and rub of his thumb, eyes fluttering shut tightly and lips parting further with each broken moan. It’s difficult to respond or even think much with the stirring pleasure coiled in your lower stomach, the only words falling from your mouth being his name. You can’t even move away from the overwhelming pleasure when your release crashes down on you without warning, his arms locking you against him tightly, lips noisily smacking and slurping up everything you have to offer, his own loud groans reverberating against your pussy as he humps against the mattress with fervor, chasing his own high.

You let out a soft cry when he continues eating you out, rolling your pulsing clit between his teeth and tongue before suckling roughly, attempting to pull another orgasm out of you. “Oh, fuck! Chuuya, please— can’t— fuck, fuck— m’coming again,” You choke between whimpers, pulling roughly at his hair as you mindlessly buck your hips against his face until you’re coming for a second time on his tongue which has his own hips stuttering against the mattress as he comes in his pants.

Chuuya finally pulls himself away, placing a final kiss to your inner thigh before shifting to his knees and climbing back over you to cup the side of your neck and pull you into a needy kiss, the taste of your cum still on his tongue. “Y’pretty when you lose yourself like that, dollface. Had me comin’ in my pants,,” He chuckles breathlessly, trailing kisses down your chin to your neck and then back up to peck your lips. “You okay?” He asks, watching you tremble beneath him.

You give a lazy nod, your eyes meeting him to see his pupils lust-blown, hair wildly messed up, and chin drenched with your slick. One of your hands moves to the side of his face, thumb swiping over his chin to wipe away some of the mess he made with a small smile. “I’m okay,” You whisper, voice a bit raspy. “Are you okay?”

He gives you a lopsided grin, catching his breath, “Yeah, M’fine, sweetheart.” He then moves to lay beside you, tugging your dress all the way off your body to toss aside and pepper kisses along your shoulder, curling up against you. He ignores the dark stain in his slacks, leaving it to be a problem for later as he relaxes.

“Hey… Chuuya,” You call out, head turning to face him, nose bumping against his.

“Yeah, doll?”

“I lied about going on more than the one date tonight, I just wanted to see your reaction,” You admit, watching Chuuya’s face twist into multiple different emotions before settling on a blank look.

“You’re not walking for a week after tonight.”

“Woah! Let’s talk about this, I was just joshin’ you!“

“We’ll see how funny it is when you’re using crutches—“

[surshica]

PINK IS THE NEW RED

: CL16

genre: fluff kinda rushed whatever !

warnings: translated french yeah

A/N: and yes i am talking about singles inferno and the lee nadine. my fav korean-american influencer 🫶 and yeah this kinda has no plot but NADINEEEEE

synopsis: charles is dating someone who was on a love show whom is known for rave parties — charles leclerc x reader (fc: nadine lee)

yn.ln

liked by pierregasly,lewishamilton and 373,252 others

yn.ln day 2 of coachella week 1!! guess what i am~ 🧚‍♀️

user52 still can’t believe you were on singles inferno and nobody picked you..

user69 THATS WHAT IM SAYING!! but from the looks of it singles inferno was like a year and half ago so maybe..

user23 nah impossible the men on there lowkey didn’t even stand a chance, they were kinda bland🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️‼️

liked by yn.ln

— view 628 more replies —

user63 liked by pierregasly? does someone have a crush?

user92 pierre is dating kika!!

user63 okay maybe pierre watched singles inferno?

— view 43 more replies —

lewishamilton much fun can’t wait for day 3!

yn.ln where is roscoe.

lewishamilton he’s at home

yn.ln ditching you for your dog

lewishamilton i’ll buy you food

yn.ln ..i wanna try your vegan snacks sir lewis hamiliton

user51 they’re literally flirting bye. WHEN DID YN GETVINTO F1?;!;?

— view 268 more replies —

user12 liked by pierregasly

liked by pierregasly

— view all comments —

charles_leclerc

liked by yn.ln,pierregasly and 1,569,368 others

charles_leclerc today was fun

tagged pierregasly,joris__trouche,audreyrublev

user34 it’s giving old money

user63 whoever styled charles needs a raise because that whole fit is 🤌

charles_leclerc i’ll make sure to tell her that

user73 HER? WHO IS HER?

pierregasly liked by pierregasly btw!

user52 okay the fact the whole grid was there…didn’t know y’all were tennis lovers too

user92 i love how it’s the whole grid and lewis is at coachella

user108 man has priorities what can i say?

user76 if you could pick from going to a tennis game in monte carlo or coachella what would you pick?

user32 mmm…coachella maybe

yn.ln sweats as professional pants we love to see it!

charles_leclerc designers choice!

yn.ln give me the number of the designer i need her to make my outfits 🤭

charles_leclerc no

yn.ln why you gatekeeping bro.

— view 628 comments —

user19 yn in her influencing arc!!

user43 “liked by yn.ln” DONT DO IT I WAS GATEKEEPING YOU.

— view all comments —

yn.ln

COACHELLA

liked by lewishamilton,charles_leclerc and 374,826 others

yn.ln coachella day 3 🥲 i’m still confused about the frank ocean performance…

tagged fembestie,malebestie

user29 women in stem who can party 😍

user75 RIGHT? like bro was an hour late and dod three performances and called it quits..

yn.ln at least he showed up right?

yn.ln should’ve put xnda up on the stage

lewishamilton okay now you’re setting me up

— view 82 comments —

user15 YOU ATE THAT. coachella? what’s that? i only know yn festival

user57 they should’ve put me on singles inferno i would’ve rizzed you up.

yn.ln my dms are always open🤷‍♀️

pierregasly someone did not like this comment😭..

user82 100-92 =

user54 98?

user42 LORD…YOU DID NOT JUST SAY 98

user92 💀

user12 i love how it’s just shirtless men in the background and yn in pink

francisca.cgomes i should’ve went with..i was over here third wheeling the whole time.

yn.ln i would’ve snuck you in if i knew you would have to deal with…them.

pierregasly NOT LIKED by pierregasly

— view 72 comments —

charles_leclerc pretty in pink 🩷

liked by yn.ln

user61 if these are the coachella fits i want to see the lollapalooza ones..BCCCC inspo~

charles_leclerc this sounds like you are going to the azerbaijani gp 🤔

yn.ln are you going to win?

charles_leclerc maybe you’ll be my lucky charm

yn.ln i’ll meet you there then!

liked by charles_leclerc

user19 DO YALL SEE CHARLES.

user69 bro got noticed by a pretty girl and can’t act properly..

— view all comments —

yn.ln posted a story

yn.ln

liked by lilymhe,fransica.cgomes and 284,739 others

yn.ln he just would not let go of me. no seriously

user59 my gf who doesn’t know is my gf is in a relationship? 🫠

user72 the cat heart necklace imma kms.

user91 now i’m invested into who this guy actually is..

user11 maybe it’s that one guy from the show, the military guy

user40 WAIT theyd be a power couple

lilymhe well tell him to stop being all cuddly we are having a girls night.

yn.ln “he said no and girls night could wait” - C

francisca.cgomes not like his opinion mattered anyways we are still going to steal you

user82 charles is screaming throwing stuff at the wall after seeing this

user99 charles : “hey alexa play that should be me by justin beiber”

lewishamilton i take it you’re here to support mercedes next gp win?

charles_leclerc me when i’m delusional!

maxverstappen1 charles you haven’t even podiumed this year plus we all know yn is here to support me~

charles_leclerc go away you are dating…yk who.😒

liked by yn.ln

mercedesamgf1 can’t wait to see you repping our merch on the paddock!

scuderiaferrari i guess someone didn’t get the memo that yn is a tifosi 💋

— view all comments —

yn.ln

liked by charles_leclerc,scuderiaferrari and 592,825 others

yn.ln pink is the new red ‼️

tagged scuderiaferrari

charles_leclerc wearing an alpines color..

yn.ln pink is just a shade of red charlie

charles_leclerc and you’re supposed to be my lucky charm

yn.ln i will be and forever am

user87 ATE!!

user96 sometimes all ferrari needs is a little pink in their lives~

— view 34 comments —

user63 PURRRR

scuderiaferrari you might need to teach little charlie over here how to dress!

yn.ln oh believe me i know…

lilymhe i love you i love this fit

lissisemackintosh OH MY🤭 listen if he doesn’t go public thenn~

user52 lizzie knows something we don’t..

— view 127 comments —

user01 normalize everyone wearing pink in the paddock.

yn.ln you’re right. @mercedesamgf1 let toto wear pink!

— view 92 comments —

user09 i love how when everyone shows up to the paddock it’s like fancy ass outfits and yn comes in with cargo pants and a white top

user16 she chose comfy not fancy

— view all comments —

charles_leclerc

liked by yn.ln,pierregasly and 2,826,927 others

charles_leclerc P1 !!! what a weekend for the team and for the tifosi! lets keep pushing more like this especially after the disappointing last few races this year! next up miami 🏆

tagged scuderiaferrari

user77 LETS GO HES BACK.

user96 🔥🔥🔥

user43 charles villain arc???

user82 NOWWW. RIGHT NEOWWWW.

user24 you best believe it!!

lewishamilton amazing driving today mate!! 👏👏

yn.ln hot people got first this race

charles_leclerc 🤔

scuderiaferrari and yall said the ferrari curse was real! 🙄

redbullracing because it still is…

scuderiaferrari nuh uh! if you have a problem with it check out cars it’s fine!!

rebullracing really? i have multiple videos of you drivers saying your car sucks.

mercedesamgf1 yoooo…chill🥶

scuderiaferrari get out of here with your long ass name

— view all comments —

yn.ln posted a story

charles_leclerc replied to your story: WELL YOU SEE THE WHOLE SOFT LAUNCH WASNT WORKING ANDD…

charles_leclerc replied to your story: did you at least like the teddy bear?;;

@ surshica | rb & follow.

[psicheanima]

i admire how much you love and understand Makima, even as someone completely outside of the csm fanbase i can tell you know her character very well! i really look up to you in the sense of being so deeply connected with a character you can draw and talk about them endlessly.

have you always loved her that much? or was it a more gradual thing? and in your opinion do you feel like it’s easier to instantly attach yourself to a character in such a way, or slowly learn to love them as you consume more of the media they’re in?

i hope that isn’t a weird question, i’d just love to hear your thoughts on the process! seeing people so enamored by a single character is really awesome :-)

Oh wow! I’m really honored you can think that way—- especially as someone who hasn’t even read Chainsaw Man? I find that very incredible. Since I most draw her, it’s interesting not only my work could still connect to you, but you can feel my love, as well.. ahh… it’s a good thing to be known for your love, and it makes my heart really warm. That’s how I want to be seen, so thank you.

I always liked Makima. However, I had other Chainsaw Man characters I was more entertained by (since I read as it released, being amused was the most important thing) But I started to love her when the control Devil arc released and we learned her true motivations. She became my favorite Chainsaw Man character. During that year gap after part 1 ended, my love for her grew, and she became one of my favorite characters of all time.

Because, it’s not just about the antagonist Fujimoto wrote. Her fan content frequently had Catholic imagery, and she was a mother. These are two “themes” that are INTENSLEY attractive to me, even back then (it’s increased since 2020!) and are tropes I push onto characters who don’t even fit it, so having it just there for me was incredibly fun. It felt like she was just for me! I didn’t really think too deeply about her past until the last chapter dropped. And then there was nothing. So I was alone with that.

I found myself really loving her in a way that I had only loved one character before (Kaworu Nagisa, and I’m sure the similarities don’t need to be explained in depth) They’re both characters who love humanity. I love humanity. I love people, and it’s tender. So being able to explore this in a character added to it. Then, as I grew up a bit more, I started exploring womanhood through her character. It was cathartic and also interesting for me, because it did not only aid me, but also helped re-contextualize everything about her, and I saw her in a new lens once again, where there were so many parts of her that I hadn’t even peaked in on.

There was a specific art I saw in about 2021 of Makima with her hair down, on her bed. She looks very lonely. It’s a set, and the other drawing is her greeting her dogs at the front of her apartment— night time. It’s really that artwork that dictated who Makima was to me. She was the type of woman who went home to an empty apartment that she paid for. As Part 2 grew separated from what I liked about the series, and as the anime brought in fans who saw her as a sexual object, and her status as a popular “dommy mommy” character cemented, I found myself attaching to her even more, because in a sea of people who didn’t seem to get her at all, I was always wanting to defend her concept. Not her personally. But what made her a “character” in the story and why she had to do the thugs she did, and why she wouldn’t act certain ways and such!

It’s easy for m to attach myself to characters, but not in such a way I do with Makima. I don’t buy merch much ever, but I have 2 Makima figures and 3 pieces of clothing with her on it. That’s a lot for me! I wouldn’t do that with any other character in existence. She has a comforting presence, because I feel I truly understand her heart down to the smallest compartment. She feels like a friend! Just seeing her makes me happy. I understand her, so the “love” I have for her is like an old married couple that are best friends in older age. For other characters, it might be something a little more— violent? I get cuteness aggression a lot. When I say I love a character, I may say insane things like “I want to push them down a flight of stairs”— actually, that’s only when they’re male. I tend to like pathetic male characters I want to be a parent for, and I tend to like female characters I’d want to be the friend of, so for those, I’d say something like “my lovely sweetie pie❤️❤️”

but for Makima, it’s obviously not that way. I don’t make too many sarcastic rude comments about Makima the way I would for other characters I like. O don’t want to, because it’s not true, and it almost hurts me to even think about— like, the type of hurt that’s vulgar and disrespectful. I really do just love her. But I don’t see her as a sweetie pie either, haha. I don’t want violence on her but I also don’t want overwhelming love. Because she is a character that is grounded in reality.

I don’t want to be her friend. I think that’s kind of a foolish concept! I can only understand her like I do because we’re separated, and I can view her objectively like a bug. But because she’s been by my side so long, her concept is familiar, and I find comfort in just the idea of her. I’ve written a lot, but it was an interesting question, so I wanted to explain it as best that I could. Thank you very much for asking it!

[wittlesissyb4by]

Sweetie Todd

Men are soo desperate. It’s honestly a bit too easy. Do you know how many virgin losers I have at my disposal? They will do anything they can, just for a picture of my tits, anything for a bit of female attention. Take this little fairy for example. He dm’d me on Insta only a few weeks back.

‘Hey I like your pics.’ He said, ‘any way I can see you with the clothes off? 😏’

In the past, I would kick these pervs to the curb. Block, ignore, sometimes even report. But some were so desperate they actually offered to pay me. Just for a pic of my nips or even my feet. At first I declined, but times are tough, and a girl’s gotta eat, right?

So I let them. I’d let them cashapp me in exchange for a pic or two. It felt kind of dirty, but I told myself girls will do much worse for much less.

But they kept asking for more, instead of appeasing them, they kept asking for more. The money came in, sure, but I would quickly run out of content if I indulged them with every transaction. There's only so many ways to take a tit pic, and I refuse to subject myself to much more than that.

I quickly learned that if I strung them along, they would become even more desperate. One guy started to annoy me, becoming particularly pushy, so I told him to go fuck himself. Tell me why he literally sent me a video of him shoving a dildo up his ass less than 24 hours later?! It was gross, but that got me thinking...

If he was willing to do that just to see a pic of me, what else could I make these desperate little dorks do?

I told a guy to eat cat food, told another to fuck the crease of the couch cushions, even suggested to another that he stick his head in doo doo he found at the dog park.

They all did it. Every. Single. One. And they even paid me for the privilege!!

When I posted a video of a guy slamming a baseball bat between his legs and thanking me with every bash of his balls, the messages really started flooding in.

Men everywhere were begging to be dominated and, I'm not gonna lie, I kinda liked it. The attention was nice, my followers grew exponentially, and the money was pouring in. I didn't even have to show my tits anymore, just had to tell them to shove a tampon up their ass and keep it in for the rest of the day.

Virgin after pathetic virgin started subbing.

Eventually, my little 'tasks' for them became more and more devious. Buying and wearing a pair of panties was too easy. I wanted the full ensemble, and I wanted them to walk through their favorite sports bar with it on.

Some checked out at that point, but others, the most dedicated and desperate, stayed.

Then, I found it. One sub was being particularly whiney, so I suggested he go buy a pack of Depends diapers for being such a baby. He did, and it was the most hilarious thing I've ever seen. A grown man wearing nothing but a diaper and sucking on his thumb is truly a sight to see! Even better when you make them squat down and shit themselves. Even the most dedicated were absolutely broken at that point. It reduces them to nothing. I've taken control of everything at that point, all the way down to when and wear they use the bathroom. Yes, they now have to beg me (pay me) to poop their pampers. They have to pay extra if they want to cum, and they don't get to change their filthy diaper before they do.

This picture you see is of Todd. He's an investment banker. Todd originally messaged me for pictures of my feet and maybe a little domination here or there, I don't really remember. At this point, I don't really care. He got put through the ringer just like the rest of them. I do specifically remember him throwing a fit when he first had to wear the diaper. Or 'nappy', as he calls it, because apparently that's how they say it in Britain where he's from.

He told me 'no' at first. Said he'd never do it. That he was 'too much of a man' for that.

"Okay." was all I said, and left it at that.

Two weeks later, he'd sent me a pic of the nappies he bought. That's another thing I've learned too: when you push a guy's limits, he may resist at first, but eventually the horny/submissive brain always wins. They will do anything to please. Anything for a little attention.

But Todd didn't get to just wear diapers, no no. His dumbass tried to tell me he's 'too much of a man'. So now he gets to wear nothing but frilly dresses when he's at home. I randomly send check-ins to ensure he's doing as he's told. If not, he's punished. It's easy to get them to do what I want, because every day I just accrue more and more pictures/videos to blackmail them with if they refuse.

Todd got to suck his first dick the other day at some random truck stop! He swears up and down that he's not gay--and I actually believe him--but I also don't care. It's way too entertaining to see diaper dorks suck a dick for baby batter and thank me for it while they gargle it in their mouth.

One of my subs also let me in on a little thing called a 'chastity device', so guess what Todd will be putting on and sending me the key to? I'm sure he'll earn it back at some point. Three, maybe six months from now, I'll mail it back to him. If he's a good baby gurl, that is...

~~~~~~~~

Image Source: frilledpansy on imagefap

Support me on Subscribestar if you like my captions!

[slugmentality]

Renaissance Faire TF141 x reader

So I know of tf141 in regency and renaissance eras. But what about these guys just simply going to a good old fashioned, 21 century, Renaissance fair!!! (I did my best for gender neutral!)

TW: sexual content(mild, mdni), more just thought then actual writing. Poor editing

 800+ words

These are my first thoughts

Kyle is a nerd, full “garbs” he made more personal as he got more adult money. Majority of his(final) props are handmade but he did buy the fucking coolest custom sword that just scratched that itch. (1,500 he would have burned if he couldnt have it. Money be damned) will do a couple's “garb”, his favorite one is the high fae (gaz)/wood elf (you). His favorite solo garb is his wendigo full suit, he gets the most pictures and likes chasing/scaring people as they pass. Mostly there for the vibes and to nerd out and forget about the world for a few hours. Knows how to sew. At the end of the day, he's the best to decompress with, talking about the day and all the cool things you did together. Showering together and rubbing circulation back to any body part that might need it and then some.

Johnny is kinda easy, full kilt, but shirts come off once he gets through the gate. Has on viking war paint on his face, patchy streaks across his face. He's getting a huge viking inspired Henna tattoo on his chest, arm, shoulder? One big ass one over it all? Two people worked on it, took 45 mins, and was a little patchy in the staining, he obviously didn’t leave it alone long enough. Plays all the battle games, wins the strong man category. Braided mohawk, whether it's you or a vendor, yes. Fucking loves showing off to his pretty elf, prince/princess, or really anything you want to be. Unless you match him the most couple thing will probably be matching hair ornaments. Wants a war ax, but by year three, he gets it. He's still as horny as he is anyday, eating you out under your pretty skirt, smearing some of the paint on his face on your thighs. And with a raging boner for the majority of the day, watching you watch him, he's begging for a handjob on the way home, after winning the strong man award, he's got you in a full nelson, right in front of the full length mirror.

Johnny and his bird got Simon to go. First year he is not dressing up or buying himself anything. When his bird falls in love with the fair he's taking them to get fitting for the costume they want. Likes that everyone there is a little weird, hates how hot it is. You're going to be fanning this man like a king so he doesn't get heat stroke but get a nice shady corner at one of the shows and he finds you enjoying yourself. Year two, wore his eye paint over his eye and forehead, got a kilt from Johnny the Christmas before, black, and a thin poet shirt. Big scary dog energy and fuck does her look good. You're definitely late due to a last minute blowjob. He finds out why johnny likes kilt so much, easiest fucking access. The handiest, tugging you around more than letting you lead. Won the ax throwing. Again he's got his hand on you, if you've got a lot to your costume, hes telling you to start taking it off when you get to the car when you leave, the chemise is fine, perfect even. 

John Price goes because his partner likes going, walking in normal and walking out a changed man. He found a dragon shoulder puppet two hours in. Made a home at the hookah lounge. Fucking loves his pretty love gorgouse and happy, so its a no brainer that your his favrote part but also looks around at all the cool costumes and wants to participate with you. Is either a dragon rider or the dragon itself. Will need the most help getting ready, his makeup is slay though. Likes picking out home decor the most with you, will not admit it out loud how much he loves the dragon hoard your home is slowly becoming as each year passes. Speaking of, once you're home with all your new trinkets, he's got in bed, talking about finally having his favorite treasure back where it belongs, satisfied under him.  

They compete at the ax throwing. Simon and John are most likely to stand in line for food while you watch a show. Johnny doesn't want to be alone for that long and Kyle gets the meal and show instead of the vendors. They all fuck with the music, idk its good and they get it.

[thisismeracing]

I'll always take care of you | MS47

― Pairing: Mick Schumacher x reader (she/her) ― Word count: 1.2k ― Warnings: mentions of food and sickness; overall fluff.  ― Summary: The flu caught you out of the blue, and completely unprepared, good thing you have your boyfriend around to take care of you. ― A/n: This piece was based on this request. This is a special piece for my mick schumacher sick girlies (gn) club (as many of us were sick this week). I hope you guys enjoy it! Let me know your thoughts by reblogging and/or leaving me an ask (anons are on) *mwah* 🤍

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Mondays are usually good days for you.

Though the week starts on Sundays, for you, they truthfully get going on Mondays. Mondays are when classes and work are back in full swing and when you make a list of everything you need to do for the week. When you are energized to clean your room, and when Mick comes home from races.

This Monday, though, you wake up with a cough, a runny nose, and your head pounding. It’s terrible. It doesn’t take you long to realize that it’s the flu and it’s not going away in time for you to get to work and classes, so you text your supervisor and send an e-mail to your professor, leaving your cell phone back on the nightstand and trying to sleep it off at least a little bit.

It gets worse after five minutes. Your whole body is aching and you wanna cry from stress because why couldn’t it happen any other day? Why today? You shrug the covers off, get Angie some food, get your water bottle, and some painkillers, and go back to bed. This time, the wiggly dog lies on your feet, as if she sensed something was wrong.

That was the first signal for Mick. Every Monday when he comes back from wherever he was in the world, Angie is at the door eager to greet him, but this time the apartment holds a weird silence, and there’s no signal of his dog. You also hadn’t answered his messages earlier this morning, something you would always do because, by the time he got home, you were up and running with your things.

He takes off his shoes, leaves his luggage by the entrance, and makes the short trek to your shared bedroom, a million thoughts going through his head. All of them dissipating when he opens the door and sees your sleeping form along with Angie lying on the bed. His shoulders drop in relief, only to go up again when your body moves on the bed, a nasty cough scratching your throat and making you whimper in pain.

Mick is by your side in a heartbeat.

Angie watched everything attentively as if knowing that he would talk to her soon, that right now her mom needed dad more.

You sit up reaching for the water, and finally notice Mick by your side.

“Babe,” you start but the coughing fits interrupt.

The blonde by your side passes your water bottle while rubbing your back, a worried look on his graceful features, “Why didn’t you tell me you were sick, Schatzi?”

And though there’s no judgment on his tone, you feel like crying, particularly because you’re sick, but also because you feel emotional. Of course, you know that Mick would always take care of you, but going through it was a completely different story, “It started earlier this morning,” you explain, taking a sip of your water again.

“Did you call your boss and your professor? Want me to do it?”

You nodded, then shook your head, “I already did, thanks though.”

“Have you eaten?”

And this time your eyes go to the ground. You know he’s about to huff a worried reply, but you’re too tired to try and explain, so you just lie back and watch as Mick kisses your forehead and starts changing his clothes, putting on his grey sweatpants and white shirt while telling you that you’re burning and he’s going to call the drugstore down the block to drop off some meds.

You hum in agreement. He pets Angie, leaving a kiss on her waiting head, but when he leaves she doesn’t follow, staying planted on the bed with you.

“Angie, sweet angel, you can go with Dad, I know you missed him,” you talk as if she would understand. Angie wiggles her tail, gets up from the bottom of the bed, and lies with her head on your belly.

You smile, caressing her fur, and it's not long before you’re falling asleep again.

You wake up minutes later, with Mick telling you to open your mouth while he’s scooping some kind of medicine in a spoon. You protest but drink it anyway, making faces at how sour it tastes.

“How are you feeling?” he asks.

“Terrible, I can’t breathe through my nose, and I’m cold, but I’m also burning.”

His fingers brush on your cheek, “Yeah, you have a fever, but I just gave you something to get the fever down. I’ll keep putting cold compresses on your forehead, but you can keep napping, okay?”

His soft tone makes your lips turn into a pout, some tears gathering in the corner of your eyes, “Baby, you’re gonna get sick too, no. I can take care of mys–”

Mick shakes his head, “I’m your boyfriend, I’m taking care of you. And besides, I’m an athlete, I won’t get sick that easily.”

Mick could very well be stubborn when he wanted to, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, sighing, “At least put on a mask.”

“Can I get a kiss first?”

You turn your head to him so fast you almost get whiplash, your brows are furrowed and your lips parted, “Are you out of your mind, Schumacher?”

He gifts you with a belly laugh, throwing his head back and showing you the milky skin of his neck. You so wanted to kiss it. And his pink plush lips too. But you couldn’t, and you told him this much.

“Yeah, I was messing with you, princess.”

You huff.

“Now, get comfortable, I’m gonna grab my mask. Your soup is almost ready,” he says, standing up from his sitting position on the bed.

“I’m not hungry,” you whine, lying down and bringing Angie close to you, snuggling on her soft fur.

“You gotta eat to get better soon, Schatzi.”

You mumble something not even you can understand, and Mick chuckles, walking back to the bed and sitting beside you. He brushes your cheek and holds your jaw, holding your eyes to his. You’re sick, you’re tired, and you have a headache pounding on your head nonstop, and a nasty running nose, but those blue orbs staring at you sure made your body tremble, all warm and fuzzy. His head dips and he takes the covers from your legs, just enough so his lips can find your naked thighs. He kisses there, and then your belly, and the inside of your wrist. There’s nothing sexual about it, he’s just kissing what he knows you would classify as a safe spot, far from your coughs, and snout.

Mick misses you though you are in front of each other right now.

And you miss him just as much.

“We went a week away, you really wanna make it more than it needs to be?”

You open your mouth, but then just drop your demeanor, shaking your head.

“Good, because I miss snuggling with you and kissing you, and we won’t be able to do it while you’re sick, right?” You nod. “I wouldn’t mind getting sick for you though.”

“Nope,” you pop the p. “Not happening. You’re sleeping in the guest bedroom until I get better.”

“Then you’re eating and taking all the meds I bring,” there’s a determination in his tone, and you can’t help but nod. “We have a deal?”

You nod reluctantly and shake hands with him. There’s a winning smile on his face, “good, I’m bringing the compresses and the soup.” 

― ⋆🪩 VOICEMAIL: Hi, besties! I hope you guys like this piece! Rooting for our mick schumacher sick girlies (gn) club to let all of its members go back to being exclusively from the mick scumacher simp club hihi A huge shout out to my coffee anon for proofreading this piece and suggesting the title (ily, C)!🤍

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[parad-ice-lostandfound]

Prompt: "No, I'm not buying you that."

Pairing: Divus Crewel and GN!Reader/Prefect/Yuu (familial)

Genre: Fluff

TW: None

AN: I want Crewel to terrorise Crowley into giving Yuu everything they need and want, so this is my contribution to the agenda lmao. I had so much fun writing this, and I hope you enjoy it just as much! ^^

"What's next on our list, pup?"

Divus Crewel's voice was crisp and clear as he spoke to you. The two of you had been out shopping, now that the winter holidays had started. Even though Night Raven College was officially out for the holidays, Crewel would often visit the college to check up on the various plants in the greenhouse (and on you).

"Sweaters," you hummed, following him around with bags containing everything you had bought so far. Crewel had a soft spot for you, and it showed with how adamant he was about you and Grim celebrating the holidays properly.

He had told you that it was a unanimous decision of the entire staff of Night Raven College to have any and all expenses incurred by you during the winter break to be taken up by the institution (read: Crowley) as thanks for all that you did, from being Crowley's unofficial assistant, to the numerous overblots you fought and by extension, the students you saved.

You went along with it, because hey, who would look a gift horse in the mouth? Especially when the horse was delivered by a surprisingly triumphant-looking Divus Crewel.

The professor walked slightly ahead of you, your next destination already in his mind. You lagged behind, eyes wandering here and there as you took in the sights of the town decorated for the winter.

Wandering eyes soon fell on a pair of sweaters displayed on the windows of one of the stores. The sweater was red, with the most tacky green tinsel wrapped around it in a manner that reminded you of Christmas trees. Small LED lights peeped out from between the plastic strands of tinsel, their light reflected on the baubles that decorated the sweater. The one next to it was an identical, but smaller version of it that seemed like it would fit a child. Twisted Wonderland had its own ugly sweater tradition, it seemed.

"Pup?" Professor Crewel placed his hand on your shoulder, breaking your staring contest with the golden baubles on the sweater. His gaze followed yours, and he raised an eyebrow at seeing what you had been so intrigued by.

"Can we get that?" You asked him, peering at him with the sweetest puppy dog eyes you could muster. Some things were just so ugly that they were cute, and this pair of sweaters was most certainly that. You wanted, no, needed to see Grim in the smaller version.

"No, I am not buying you that," Crewel hummed, eyebrows drawn into a frown as he looked from your pleading expression to the sweater on display.

"Why not?"

"(Name), I could make you a sweater much better than that."

"I know, but that's not what I want. I want those sweaters, please?" you blinked, and Crewel narrowed his eyes at you.

After a few moments of you defiantly tugging on his coat, he relented. He gave you a look which clearly showed his reluctance, but finally nodded his head in the direction of the door to the shop, permission silently given. You beamed at him before skipping into the shop, while all Crewel could do was shake his head as he followed you.

Oh well, Crowley was the one paying for it anyways.

Back to Masterlist...

[base0h]

Hi can I request Sabo , Ace and Luffy bonus if you want to include Shanks or Kid hcs where finding the reader who’s got her/their arm stuck in a vending machine?

Reader called them up for help because they got their arm stuck while reaching for their candy that was RIGHT on the edge and about to fall but wouldn’t. Basically “I paid for the damn candy, I’m going to get my damn candy!”

Please 💗

a/n - um. I did the same thing today 🧍how did you know 😭

Warnings - g/n reader, crack as usual

I’m getting what I paid for

- he’s afraid of vending machines specifically for this reason- he once paid for a fucking OVERPRICED water ($6.00) and it got stuck in the window

- poor guy was devastated, face on the glass and all as he stared at his overpriced Dasani water that seemed to be taunting him from inside the machine.

- came home and almost cried about it to you 😭 but he’s an big man so he held it in. you could tell he cried about it right outside the door before he came home tho.

- but guess what? You gotta conquer your fears right?? 💪🔥

- so, you two were walking around in the city, and damn you were thirsty, so you found a vending machine and took your wallet out. I imagine that Sabo immediately knew what was happening, he sensed the vending machine on his radar of fear

- he stared ominously as you took your wallet out, and as you took a five dollar bill out, you fed it into the machine, pressing the buttons. WHY WAS THE BEEPING SO LOUD ?? Was he sweating? Was it hot there? sabo honey it’s winter

- the machine slowly made the water come out, and it fell as usual, PHEW! Nothing bad happened… Maybe that vending machine was just weird before right?

- you reached into the machine and oh no. it wasn’t there

- “Damn it..”

- cue the dramatic lighting on Sabo- WHAT? IS IT STUCK?

- “These machines are so 50/50-“ -you

- “Is… is it- stuck?” -him

- “Yeah, just gimme a sec.”

- He’s now crying inside. Dead. Wasted.

- “Aw- I’m sorry y/n.. How much was it? We can go get coffee instead!”

- he was so sweet, literally offering anything in the world as if you just lost your dog or something 😭

- you put your hand in his face as you slammed your arm farther into the machine until only your shoulder was visible, and you were literally about to break the machine 😂😂

- mans was shocked- wtf were you doing?! “Y/N- IS YOUR ARM OK?!”

- “Babe- we can get something else!” -sabo

- “I’M GETTING WHAT I PAID FOR EVEN IF I HAVE TO BREAK THIS DAMN MACHINE.”

- you were his hero, his deity, his idol. How were you so brave to stick your hand in the machine? The thing of his nightmares? God he fell in love with you all over again

- he has spoken to the manager about losing 5 dollars to a vending machine (shanks don’t be a Karen)

- will not hesitate to fight the machine if needed 💀 he would put his hands up and shift his dad sandals into sport mode

- why is water so damn expensive? I mean it’s not like he’s poor or anything but DAMN Dasani 😭

- when you two were peacefully trying to get a soda from the vending machine nearby, OF COURSE. IT GETS STUCK.

- shanks tried punching the window, and shaking the whole ass machine and it just would not budge at all. He couldn’t fit his hands far enough inside the machine, so he asked if you could

- after about a solid 10 minutes of you fighting with this machine, he tried to tell you that he could just buy you a soda elsewhere but no. This machine better give you your fucking soda

- “I’m getting what we paid for shanks.”

- man was laughing, wheezing as you tried so many things to grab the soda can. Sticking your whole arm inside, your foot, hell- you even tried fitting your head in there at some point 💀

- finally… YOU GOT IT!

- if shanks had confetti right now he would be dumping it on your head- and you were so proud of yourself (you should be proud)

- “watch out vending machines, Y/N will not hesitate to fight you 💅”

- ace loved getting donuts… donuts, from the vending machines. (Please come and punch me for this joke) and you did too! Especially the little mini ones that just hit the spot :)

- it was your routinely night out with the amazing and wonderful Ace, and you two stopped by your usual vending machine. You fed the machine a 5 dollar bill and just waited for the machine to dump out the donuts

- you saw it fall, but… Why wasn’t it where the little door was? You reached in farther, feeling around for it, but it still wasn’t there…

- Ace just kept watching you struggle (bitch) and the little greasy shit had a grin on his face.

- “Ace it’s stuck!”

- “Yeah i noticed.”

- “Can you help me?”

- “I dunno it seems like you’ve got it! 👍🤭”

- “bitch.”

- after a couple minutes, you finally got it, and you triumphantly opened the pack of donuts. Ace reached out for one but hell nah. The unhelpful bitch wasn’t gonna get any 💀

- “Y/n please I’m sorry-“

- “No.”

- “PLEASEEEEEE?”

- “…no. Bitch.”

- “why are you so mean?” -ace

- “I know you could’ve just broken open the machine and saved me that trouble.”

- “But it’s funny seeing you frustrated with a vending machine!”

- Surprised you haven’t gone broke because this man raids vending machines. Will not leave ANY snack alive. (RIP snacks)

- “Ooo! Y/n that machine has cookies!”

- Your poor wallet was suffering but it’s ok, Luffy’s happiness was all you needed :) so you bought the cookies, and waited for the machine to drop the pack into the dispenser

- “Thanks y/n! You’re the best :D”

- “You’re welcome Lu, but next time please bring your wallet too.”

- The cookies got stuck in the window, DAMN IT! You shook the machine a bit, and it didn’t do much. Luffy reached into the machine with you, trying to grab the snack.

- “Luffy i got it! Take- your arm out!”

- “I’m getting what I paid for though! I want the cookies!” -Luffy

- “Excuse me what YOU paid for?! I paid for it dumbass!”

- you pushed his arm out before you shoved your arm all the way inside, painfully. Bro was shocked, the effort you were putting into getting his snack! He knew you were the best person in the world but this was yet another reminder of that :)

- you finally grabbed it, pulling it out before giving the machine a punch and a glare, “Stupid ass- machine.”

- “I love you y/n!”

- “Yeah Mhm..”

- “Here you can have… one. >:)” -Luffy

- “dumbass you better give me more than one 💀”

a/n - ace is such a bitch but I feel bad about the joke

[semyla]

Convention

Summary: You and Todo went to a convention together for a Panel, that the one and only Takada-chan was attending as a guest, little did you both know how the might would end in a crazy mess.

Honorable tags: @xxfromthestartxx

…

Recently there was an announcement of Takada making a Q&A at a convection. Of course, Todo wanted to go and wanted you tag along too, you worked overtime to pay your ticket only to find out he already payed for you, to which it was your dislike, so you promise him to pay for the necessities while being at the con, making you both now 50/50.

While the Q&A was at a convention, you both felt encouraged to cosplay too. Todo took you to an anime cosplay store, to get matching school girl outfits, just like the ones Takada wear, and you had the idea of decorating them by putting patches and buttons on them about her and other idols you both liked, to which it made Todo excited.

You both liked the idea of doing them hand made rather than buying, it would be both of you first time doing them, if it got too hard you both agreed to just buy them. The con made you very curious, so after you had finished changing and Todo was still inside changing you went on a looked at other panels for the con, you wanted to explore the place.

“How do I look?” Todo asked as he got out of the fitting room and started to flex his muscles and posing on his school girl uniform, wondering what you thought of it. This made you laughed until you notice that his hair was down, it being the first time you seen his hair down.

“Don’t rip your costume out, Mr. Muscle man. You’ll need it for the con, although you had to be the prettiest girl I have ever lay my eyes on, tell me would you mind taking you out on a date?” you teasingly asked him.

“Why thank you, I’ll go out with you, only if you treat me with dessert right afterwards” He threw you a kiss as he kept posing, and you both laughed.

“How do I look?” you asked him as you stood up to you him, to which made small posing to show your school girl uniform off.

“You look awesome! Amazing! The cutest!” Todo excited praised, making you smile.

“Thank you” You said smiling at his praises.

Todo looked to the sit and saw a few things out, on the large sofa you were sitting in.

“Did you pick those out?” He asked.

“I did, you know I have never seen you with your hair down, and I wanted to see if I could combine a ribbon with a pin or a thick hair tie to customize them, you see” you showed him the idea of what you were thinking to which he was looking thoughtfully.

“I really like your thinking! You are very creative you know, you never stop to amusing me with your ideas” Todo complimented.

“If I made you one, would-“ You were about to asked but you were interrupted by him.

“Would I wear it? Of course I would!” Todo loudly said happy and you smile.

A month before the con, both took the time to start getting creative and in the action of making the handmade pins, customized matching hair clips, hair ties and a post cards you guys wanted to do. It wasn’t so hard to do with cans until you both found out that your school has a pin machine, thanks to Utahime. It made your work more easy and fun.

The day at the con was really fun, you both walked around and took pictures with your favorite characters and when the Takada Q&A line was about to start you and Todo where the first ones to be there and the ones to have better sitting too. The panel was really fun, Todo asked questions and there were some funny moments while he did, making the crowd laugh. After the con you both stayed and walked around a lot having fun.

Around 8pm Todo had a call from the school nearby where he was there was a curse spirit, special grade near by the con and told him to go, kind of to his dislike because it was his free day, but knowing the dog water of his classmates, no one could do a better job than he could. You weren’t so sad to leave, honestly you were tired so it would matter only a little, since it was a grade one. So you can imagine the look of the curse spirit after mocking them, he then beat up by a ripped gorilla, buff looking guy in a school uniform girl rocking his shit out.

After the fight it was peak hour in the city, you and Todo carried big bags of merch and free merch that was handed out at the con and walked between the packed area of people coming out of work and the con too. You walked in front of Todo guiding him to get to the train station and be able to go back to Kyoto School. As you both walked and stayed close, you loudly talked about how much you liked the con and a lot of fun taking pictures with him.

“Why don’t we do this more often? We could come here and cosplay” You asked Todo.

“We could that, there are many talented people and we can learn to do a lot handy stuff for it”

“Yeah, we can even do somethings hand made and other half, we can buy and see how we can do them, because cosplay is expensive, but if we budget ourselves we can save a lot money” You said and Todo thought about it.

“I know you like Jojo, we can cosplay them and more anime characters you like”

While you both walked a guy was walking at full speed, while you also walked you didn’t payed attention still talking to Todo about what you both could do, until you notice it. He had shouldered a girl a few steps in front if you and when you realize what he was doing, it was to late to avoid it because then he had walk at full speed and strongly shoulder you, so you had reached into your mouth and throw spit at him after he passed, it landed at the bottom of his hand and went down to the neck. He then stop, and turned around immediately ready to start yelling.

Until, Todo got in front, ready for a fight. He had seen it all and no question were needed to ask, and his serious face and crossed arms, he had washed that guys face as he had stood front to him.

“What’s up!? You like shouldering pretty girls?” Todo said.

This was the second time by now, that you had seen a buff looking man throw hands with someone in a school girl uniform. To your dismay, when Todo punched the guy, he had knocked him out, but the police saw it immediately stopping both of him, you of, panicked and got involved. Todo getting arrested was the last thing you needed for the night.

“Sorry Mai, I made you come in here even more now they let us o” You said to Mai, who kind of looked sleep deprived, since it was 2am and all of you were still on detained as they investigated what happened, and even drove you all to the police station, the only reason they let all of you go was because you and three other girls came forwards to defend Todo and all of you begged for him not to get him in trouble, since the police seemed a bit more on the side of locking him up.

“Don’t even mention it, I was very worried about what you told me what happened” Mai said, crossing her arms as she had looked at both of you, both you and Todo looked fine.

“Alright then, if we are all good now, then we can go” Mai said and turned around leading the way to take and you guys followed her. You felt so terrible about what happened, so you had decided to apologize to him.

“Im so sorry Aoi, this shouldn’t happen”

“Don’t be, it’s not like we did any bad thing, that jerk deserved what was coming” Todo said and you hummed.

“Still you shouldn’t have been stopped like that” You said to him.

“It’s fine, don’t worry your pretty head about it” Todo poke your forehead and you smile and lean your head on his arm, as you both walked.

…

Sorry this took so long omg 😭

Part 2?

[theambivalentagender]

Hello all! So if you follow me, you likely also follow my comic Valley Echoes as well as any of my other art drabbles. You may also know that I've been financially limping along for some time.

For context, my day job is dog grooming. It's a "career" I came into relatively recently and honestly love. However, my location has recently been incredibly dead. I haven't been able to make commission from lack of dogs and my hours have been cut drastically.

I'm currently looking into finding extra work where I can that will still fit with my technically full time schedule. This has been a big part of why the comic updates have slowed considerably in the last few months.

In the meantime, however, I did want to show that I am available for commissions at this time. This is the first time I'd be getting into commissions, so if folks do request I just ask for patience as I figure it all out, but I'd love to be able to draw your requests. I have a vgen account that's still being set up at the moment.

I also want to plug my Patreon again - honestly, the fact you all give this much for what I do now is incredible to me. I recently met the fun "milestone" of Patreon temporarily locking access to my withdrawals because I had made enough money this year to require filling out a tax form before my funds could be released, which I did. Maybe it's silly but it made me a little happy. I also have a Kofi though that's updated less.

This next part ended up being much longer and more personal than I expected so I'll put it under a cut.

Anything at this time would help immensely. Cost of living is insane, I just turned 30 and keep wondering how much longer I'll be able to keep renting, let alone ever saving to afford a home. I'm very, very lucky in that I have support from my dad, who has honestly been one of my strongest lifelines for years. But I obviously don't want to have to keep taking so much of that support from someone who should be enjoying retirement.

There are a lot of expenses I keep having, and things I'm putting off. The ipad I use for art has been cracked for months, but is still functional thank god. I recently finally bought myself clothes that aren't falling off my body after losing over 100 lbs in the last year. I have to buy and maintain my own tools for my grooming job, and I have to maintain my own health, both mentally and physically. My left hand/arm probably has nerve impingements and muscle strains science hasn't even named yet lmao. And of course there's taking care of my two terrible feline children who cause nothing but chaos in my home and who I love dearly.

Even if you don't give monetary support though, I so, so greatly appreciate every one of you who shares, likes, or comments on my work. I just recently got an anon who I mean to reply to soon gushing about they love Valley Echoes. Nothing makes my day more than waking up to see a million notifications that's just one person liking each of my comics as they read through it the first time.

Ever since I was 6 years old I wanted to be a storyteller in some way. I used to draw my own Dilbert and Far Side comics, and I constantly wrote wild fantasy stories. But after going through college, dealing with a huge amount of stress, burnout, and just one random person online telling me that I needed to hear the harsh "truth" that my writing skills were garbage, that spark was just gone. Excluding occasional stuttering starts, I didn't really write for years.

Doing this "silly" comic and getting the feedback I have is starting to rekindle that spark. I have so many stories of my own that I'm starting to make tentative plans on producing in some way. But even if I never become some official published recognized author, I feel like just putting out this comic is fulfilling that dream I had as a kid. So thank you again, as cheesy and long winded as this post has become.

[poppitron360]

After responding to @puzzled-pegasus’ ask about my lighthearted Leo hcs, I came up with a WHOLE BUNCH MORE so buckle up (these are mostly Valgrace)

1. Okay so I recently did a rewatch of all six Tinkerbell movies for this project I’m working on and for no other reason not just because they’re awesome and I KNOW FOR A FACT that Leo loves those movies (they’re a beloved classic in Cabin 9). The plot of the first movie is LITERALLY JUST “Hey making things is really cool and you don’t always need flashy nature powers to be useful and you should be proud of your gifts!!’ (The Tinker fairies are literally just Hephaestus kids with a green colour palette).

2. “Tinkerbell” is one of Jason’s nicknames for Leo. Leo pretends to hate it but he secretly loves it.

3. Jason started noticing that whenever Leo steals his hoodies the tags at the back always end up mysteriously being cut off. Leo hates them bc of sensory issues. Now, whenever Jason buys a hoodie, the first thing he does is cut the tag off so that Leo can wear it, too.

4. Leo once collected all the tags that he cut off his clothing and sewed them together to make a plushie and gave it to Jason to say thank you.

5. Gift-making is Leo’s love language. Jason’s love language is showing off those gifts.

6. “How to Train Your Dragon” is also one of Leo’s favourites, and he likes to curl up with Festus in Bunker 9 and watch all three movies plus the spin-off shows.

7. He references Vines CONSTANTLY. So does Piper. They like to watch compilations on YouTube and quote along to them. Jason is SO CONFUSED when they quote them out in public.

He’s just like “Why did you yell “LOOK AT ALL THOSE CHICKENS!!” When we passed by that field of geese earlier?”

And they respond with, in perfect unison- “Wouldn’t you like to know, Weather Boy?”

8. I feel like he’d be the typa guy who’s memorised the entire Bee Movie Script.

9. His favourite musical is “In The Heights” bc he knows all the Spanish and he also relates to Usnavi on a SPIRITUAL LEVEL.

10. One time he was a little too overenthusiastic doing the HOT TO GO dance and accidentally wacked Reyna in the face. They found her in the process of trying to tie him in a bag with a rabid dog to throw him in the lake.

11. *types text out in all caps* *deletes it and types in lower case* *thinks “ah, fuck it” and types it out in all caps again*

12. Carries around Uno Reverse cards in his pockets just in case. It’s actually gotten them out of some tough situations.

Monster: I’M GONNA KILL YOU!!

Leo *reaching into his tool belt*: ha!

Leo: UNO REVERSE!!

Leo: NOW WE’RE GONNA KILL YOU!!!

13. His favourite Taylor Swift song is “I can do it with a broken heart”

14. Kinda a genius at Puzzle games, videogames in general (in TLH he gets exited when he sees Beckendorf’s old bed had a gaming rig, and also canonically played Mario Party with Jason). He used to play those Lego Videogames as a kid. (He still does).

15. Also he’s the only person who can beat Annabeth at Chess. She gets SO MAD:

“It’s literally a war strategy game! How are you better than me?!”

“[Witty Chess Pun here], mi amiga.”

*Annabeth flips the board over*

16. I mean we all know that he plays with Lego, right? I like to think that’s how he designed the Argo II, by building it with Lego first.

17. Jason and Piper only find out that Leo’s real name is “Leonidas” AFTER he died. And now Jason would never get to tease him about it…

(I know Rick confirmed it wasn’t but I like it so I’m sticking with it)

18. He was actually very careful to not teach Hazel all the memes right away, and save a few for the perfect opportunity. After he told her about his plan to sacrifice himself, he goes up to her and says very solemnly “At my funeral, please- I want you to play my favourite song as you burn my shroud. It’s a beautiful song called “Never Gonna Give You Up” by a man called Rick Astley- it’s about strength and loyalty and devotion. I think if- if I don’t make it… it would be a fitting send-off.”

She falls for it SO easily, and Leo got to play a few tricks on his friends from beyond the grave.

19. I know his death was a serious matter, but you can’t tell me that Leo didn’t use it to mess with Frank and Hazel.

“Hey, Frank! Are you gonna finish that cookie?”

“Well, I was planning on-“

And then he gives him an “I’m about to die tomorrow” look and Frank just caves and gives him the cookie. Little does he know that Leo’s already scored two muffins and a chocolate bar from Hazel by pulling the exact same trick.

20. In a world where Jason survived, he also uses it to mess with him.

“Hey Leo, can you take out the trash?”

“Can’t you do it? I died to save you.”

21. When he turned 18, he actually got a “Hot stuff” tattoo just like the fake one he drew in MoA

[hayleythecannibal]

Twisted Minds: Act II- Chapter Twenty-Four Ko No Mono

TW: Crime scenes, Gore, Implied Death, Death, Cannibalism, Guns, Animal Death, Mental Heath, Desecration of Remains, Pregnancy, Vomiting,

Warning this is Fem!reader. You can also find this on Wattpad and A03 under the name @HayleyMarieOfficial. Comment if you want to be added to the taglist.

Taglist: @punkin-time @miaowkitty @gabriella-aesthetic @urlocalfanficwriter @dilfdemolisher

Twisted Minds Masterlist

GRAHAM/L/N HOUSE - BEDROOM - DAY-

Will twists in the throes of his fevered dream. A sound Gagging competes with his pathetic moan. Will finally awakens, disoriented. The Gagging comes again.

GRAHAM/L/N HOUSE - BATHROOM- DAY-

Will in T-shirt and sweats as he opens the Bathroom door to find Y/N leaning over the toilet gagging. “Honey?” Will calls to her. She groans back, she’s donned in one of his T-shirts. He goes over to her and holds her hair. Rubbing her back. Once she’s done vomiting, Will brings her Alkaline Water and anti-nausea medication. “I’ve been feeling so sick lately.” I take the pills with the water.

“Do I need to-” I shake my head, “no. I think its just a stomach bug or something.” Will kisses my Forehead and brushes my hair out of my face. “Are you sure because-” I give him a look. He nods. He helps me up and takes me to the kitchen. He makes me some buttered toast and then there's a knock at our door.

GRAHAM/L/N HOUSE - DAY-

Will in a T-shirt and sweats as he opens the front door. ALANA BLOOM Is on the stoop with APPLESAUCE. Will's DOGS mill around them, saying hello. Will watches as she bends to pet them. “Do we do friendly visits anymore?” Will raises a brow. “This isn't a friendly visit.”

“What kind of visit is it?”

“I guess I'm trying to convince myself of something. Or maybe I'm trying to convince you.” Alana is pensive, thoughtful, struggling with confrontation. “Or maybe I don't know why I'm here.” Alana adjusts her stance. “I know why. You're worried I killed Freddie Lounds.” The statement is matter-of-fact and sits there between them. “Did you?”

“What do you think?”

“I think that's the wrong answer to tell somebody who is already wondering what you're capable of.” Alana says, the sound of breakfast cooking and the sound of soft singing comes from inside the house. Will smiles softly “Been wondering that for a while.”

“I know you're lying to me. You've slipped into some kind of skin and I think it fits a little too well.”

“I told everyone Hannibal was a killer and no one believed me. Just like no one would believe you if you said I was a killer.” Will's tone chills Alana. But she's brave and persistent. “I'm afraid, Will. But not of you. I'm afraid for you. I don't think Hannibal is good for you. I think your relationship is destructive.”

“But Hannibal's good enough for you.” Alana reacts to that, stung. Will tries to soften his remark. “You should be afraid. You're right to be afraid. I have something for you.” Will quietly goes inside and returns, brandishing A HANDGUN. “Whoever you're afraid of... don't be afraid to use it.”

Alana reacts in fear, then Will SPINS the gun on its TRIGGER GUARD and offers it to her. He holds her gaze. Alana takes the gun. And her certainty about him wavers. She sees the old Will for a second. “Takes 9mm rounds. Buy a box and find a range. Practice.” And he goes back inside. The door swinging closed behind him, leaving Alana alone in the cold.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT-

the fire flickering wildly. HANNIBAL placing it on the table in front of Will and Y/N. As the flames die down, we reveal THREE THUMB-SIZED BIRDS sizzling in their own fat and flesh.

“Among gourmands, the ortolan bunting is considered a rare-but debauched delicacy. A rite of passage, if you will. Each of the birds resembles an oval of butter with wings, feet and head still attached. Preparation calls for the songbird to be drowned alive in Armagnac. It is then roasted and consumed whole in a single mouthful.”

“Ortolans are endangered.” Will remarks. Y/N smirks, “Who amongst us is not?”

“I haven't been gorged, drowned, plucked and roasted. Not yet.” Will says as he gazes down at the birds who have met their fate in the stomachs of them. “Traditionally, during this meal, we're to place shrouds over our heads, hiding our faces from God.” Hannibal picks up one of the birds by its head.

“I don't hide from God.” Will and Y/N pick up their own birds. Raising them in a toast. “Bones and all?”

“Bones and all.”

Following Hannibal's lead, The couple place the bird in their mouth. As the flavor fills his mouth, Will nods in appreciation. It's clearly delicious, despite the CRUNCHING of tiny bones. Never taking his eyes off of them, Hannibal draws in the bird's head and beak, blithely crushing them between his molars before continuing. “After my first ortolan, I was euphoric. A stimulating reminder of our power over life and death.”

“I was euphoric when I killed Freddie Lounds.” Y/N says and then smirks. If only she was truly dead. “Tell me, did your heart race when you murdered her?”

Y/N deadpans, “No. It didn't.”

“A low heart rate is a true indicator of one's capacity for violence. One might say you are genetically predisposed to it.” Maybe he’s right. My mother was a serial killer, I hunt serial killers by thinking like them, and inevitably i have grown to enjoy the blood that runs down my hands. “This is my design?”

All teeth, starkly white in the chiaroscuro of blackened, scorched skin. With lips shriveled back, it's almost as though this death mask is grinning at us.

BAU - MORGUE - NIGHT-

The slab bears the burned body of an adult woman. Hair crisp like black hawthorn. Skin charred and cracked open. JIMMY PRICE and BRIAN ZELLER attend to the body. Will, Hannibal, Y/N and JACK CRAWFORD are there as well. “Orthodontics confirmed. It's Freddie Lounds. A little kerosene and fwoomp. Incendiary journalism. If she were burned alive, blood would have boiled out of her mouth.”

“No scabrous crust on her chin. Dead before the match was struck.” Jimmy says as he points it out. “Blood already pooled to the lowest points of her body. She'd been dead at least twenty-four hours.” Zeller says. “Freddie Lounds's ultimate failing was her inability to keep herself out of her own stories.” Jack says with a not sorry tone.

“Freddie had the longing need to be noticed. She was noticed.” Hannibal then leans close to inspect her corpse. “Severely-burned bodies tend to split along lines of musculature –” He points to a JAGGED OPENING along the corpse's back.”-- but this looks like an incision.”

“Cut out her psoas muscles. Looks like he used a hunting knife.”

“A peculiar trophy.” Hannibal glances innocently at Will who averts his eyes. “Why did he burn her?”

“How many people has Freddie Lounds burned in her career?”

“Whoever did this was not striking out against Miss Lounds's exploitative brand of journalism. This is something else. This is something sacred.” Y/N considers the charred corpse in front of her, then: “Freddie Lounds had to burn. She was fuel. Fire destroys, creates. It's mythical. She won't rise from the ashes, but her killer will.” Y/N says.

“He's the one to be noticed now.” Jack Crawford studying Will, Y/N and Hannibal...

GRAHAM/L/N HOUSE - BATHROOM - DAY-

I pace me and Will’s bathroom anxiously, the scary thing is what im hoping for shows up. the "+" of a pregnancy test. The test wand droops in FRAME so that the positive result icon looks like an "X", Oh my god. Is this real? I look down at my non-existant belly and then back at the test.

“Oh my god……OH MY GOD!”

CEMETERY - GRAVESITE - DAY-

The freshly-dug GRAVE and its MOUND OF EARTH are dark against the surrounding snow. a WREATH commemorates Freddie Lounds, sat atop a COFFIN at the graveside. An intimate group of MOURNERS are seated under a canopy – family and colleagues. They face the PRIEST who presides over Freddie's inhumation.

“Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou anointest my head with oil, my cup runneth over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever.”

ALANA is watching the intimate group of mourners. But more interested in the cemetery beyond. She waits. At last, she sees what it is she's searching for: WILL GRAHAM

He's mostly obscured by a tree a dozen yards away, standing with Y/N. He notices Alana's gaze and approaches her. “Funeral was long at the chapel and it's long at the graveside.”

“I'm here to mourn Freddie Lounds. Can't imagine it's why you're here.” Alana says with slight distaste. “All sorts of reasons why I would go to Freddie Lounds's funeral. All sorts of reasons why you would go.” Will says as he grabs my hand, guiding me to his side. “Which reason are you here for?” Alana looks to me.

“It's common for a killer to revisit their victims after death. Attend funerals, return to crime scenes.” I say and Alana eyes Will, not amused. “Anyone suspicious?” She asks turning back to me.

“Besides Will?” I retort with a playful smile.

“That was implied.” She replies, still very clearly unamused.

“You were expecting me.” Will tilts his head with a slight furrow of the brow. “It's common for a killer to revisit their victims after death.” Alana repeats my notion. Will sighs taking a step forward. “I'm not here to dance on Freddie Lounds's grave, if that's what you're getting at.”

“Not here looking for her killer, either. Don't seem particularly interested in the crowd.” Alana says, I watch as she tries to analyze Will. “Are you profiling me, Dr. Bloom?”

“A psychological profile is nothing more than statistical probability. You here makes it that much more probable you're Freddie's killer.” Despite her doggedness in pressing Will, Alana looks away..”I'm here because my psychiatrist suggested it would be therapeutic.” As one, the mourners start away from the gravesite and Alana starts after them. She continues away in the cold.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - NIGHT-

Will observes the amber light trapped in a tumbler of Scotch. I sit observing both men. “I've been so preoccupied with taking a life, I'm having trouble wrapping my head around the possibility of making one.” Earlier in the day I asked Will about the possibility of children.

Hannibal stops behind my chair, stroking the ends of my hair. “When men become fathers, they undergo biochemical changes that affect the way they think.”

“You said the same thing happens when men become killers.”

“Fatherhood is not always a nurturing role. Fathers can be killers. In protecting a child, things trapped inside a man for years fly free, ready to explode in pain. And dangerous behavior. What sort of father would you be?” Will reflects on that, imagining a different life.

“I would be a good father.” Hannibal smiles warmly. He imagines Will would. I know he will be. Even if he doesnt know about you yet. My little love. “Do you see a life flashing before your eyes that's not your own?”

“Yes.”

“What about you Y/N…What sort of mother would you be?” I think on it, Thinking back to my own childhood. about my brothers and my own Mother. My first victim….and the woman who made me this way. “Better than my own….I’d be better than her. Because No child deserves what i went through.”

“How quickly we form attachments to something that does not yet exist.”

“I'm not attached. I'm only anticipating attachment.” Will furrows his brows in thought. “We have a deep-seated need to interact with our children. It helps us discover who we are.” Hannibal says inquisitively. “Have you ever been a father?” Will asks Hannibal.

“I was to my sister. She wasn't my child, but she was my charge. Abigail reminded me so much of her.” That derails Will's train of thought, almost sobering. “Then why did you kill her?” I ask softly, thinking of my dead child as I grown my new one.

“What happened to Abigail had to happen. There was no other way.”

“There was. But there isn't now.”

“Would you protect this child the way you couldn't protect Abigail?” I lower my head, No one will hurt you My little love. Not ever. Will studies Hannibal, then: “I still dream about Abigail. I dream I'm teaching her how to fish.”

“I'm sorry I took that from you. I wish I could give it back.”

“So do I.”

“Occasionally, on purpose, I drop a teacup to shatter on the floor. I'm not satisfied when it doesn't gather itself up again. Someday perhaps a cup will come together.” Will considering Hannibal's words --

CEMETERY - NIGHT-

Reflecting bone white in the moonlight. TRACKING across them shows their eerie shadows as the world opens a new day. A figure looming, silhouetted in the morning rays, the definition of its outline inexplicable until its sunlit front, a ghoulish representation of -- SHIVA

In multi-armed splendor, the god of the Hindu pantheon. FOUR ARMS fan out on each side of the torso -- eight arms in total. The composite deity made whole via composite body parts strapped to pose in a state of après-mort meditation.

THE HEAD Appears much larger than a normal human skull -- a result of THREE HEADS being strapped together to create a singular monstrosity. The center head faces forward as the ones flanking it point in opposite directions.

A THIRD EYE Leers sightless from a HOLE gouged into the forehead of the center head. As the sun continues rising, its light reveals the impromptu Shiva's many additions and accoutrements adorn and emanate from a SINGLE BODY at its core – The charred corpse of the late-but-not-so-lam

CEMETERY - FREDDIE LOUNDS'S GRAVESITE - DAY-

ZELLER Moves to reveal the RICTUS GRIN of Freddie's corpse. He and Jimmy Price are processing the grotesque Shiva. Will Graham and Dr. Y/N L/N watches them silently.

“Extra parts were harvested on-site.” Zeller takes note. “Just one night in the ground. That beats Jesus by forty-eight hours.” Jimmy says with a slight smirks. “Never thought Freddie would make it to heaven, much less get deified.”

ALANA BLOOM Is walking toward the gravesite with Jack Crawford. Will and Y/N are standing before the Shiva. Jimmy and Brian see Jack and Alana and nod greetings. Will is impassive. Alana holds his gaze. Neither looks away. Then Alana's eyes are drawn back to the Shiva. Its funny how no one ever thinks it Y/N… Always Will.

“This killer is trying to get somebody's attention.”

“I don't think he wants to be found. He has direction. His chaos is getting more orderly.”

“First he burns effigies, then he assembles them.”

“Burning Freddie Lounds wasn't his first effigy. Whoever killed Freddie killed Randall Tier. Mutilated him, dismembered him, put him on display.” I listen, Thats where her profile derails….The person who killed Randall Tier and the person who Created his sculpture are two different people.

“What connection do Freddie Lounds and Randall Tier have?”

“Will Graham. Randall Tier was his suspect and Hannibal's patient.” Will reacts to this and crosses to Jack and Alana. “Freddie was investigating his murder when she died.”

“Freddie was investigating a lot of things when she died.” Will states with an incredulous look. “This is a psychopath who has incubated fantasies of killing and is translating them into action. He's building himself up. Or somebody's building him up.”

“He could have a benefactor who admires his destruction. Hindus believe that destruction leads to new life. Shiva is destroyer and benefactor.” I say turning into the conversation, I cover my tracks well enough to not be known. Though Will and Hannibal make it to where i would never get caught. “He's being guided”

“This is a signpost?”

“Maybe Freddie's killer didn't do this. Maybe his benefactor did.”

“Why?” ALANA dawning in realization. “It's a courtship.” Alana watches Will intently now, determined.

HANNIBAL LECTER'S OFFICE - DAY-

Will and Y/N Sit with Hannibal. “Every creative act has its destructive consequence.” Will considers that and is compelled to ask: “What you did to me, what you did to Abigail, was that a creative act or destructive consequence?”

“The Hindu god Shiva is simultaneous destroyer and creator. Who you were yesterday is laid waste to give rise to who you are today.”

“Rise and rise again and again, until the lambs have become lions.” I say softly.

“Yes.” Will studies Hannibal a moment, then: “How much reality has had to be slandered? How many lies have had to be sanctified? How many consciences devastated?”

“As many as were necessary.” Hannibal says Without a second thought. “You sacrificed Abigail. You cared about her as much as I did.” Will says. “More. But then, how much has God sacrificed?”

“What god do you pray to?” Hannibal regards Will as though the answer is obvious. “I don't pray. I have not been bothered by any considerations of deity, other than to recognize how my own modest actions pale beside those of God.”

“I prayed I would see Abigail again.” I say softly, My hands play with the end of my dress. Hannibal lifts my Chin. “Your prayer did not go entirely unanswered. You saw part of her. Should the universe contract, should time reverse and teacups come together, a place could be made for Abigail in your world.”

“What place is that?”

“You've lost a child, Will. It seems you're likely to gain one.” From behind Hannibal, the WENDIGO RISES UP IN SILHOUETTE.

“God is beyond measure in wanton malice and matchless in His irony.” But the Wendigo itself has TRANSFORMED as it raises its arms revealing, Shiva-like, FOUR ARMS per side -- A FAN OF EIGHT.

Will entranced not by Hannibal, but the thing behind him.

BAU - JACK CRAWFORD'S OFFICE - DAY-

Alana stands opposite a curious Jack Crawford. “What are you up to?”

“I'm not sure I know what you're talking about, Dr. Bloom.”

“I think you know. You're not fooling me, Jack.”

“I'm not trying to fool you.”

“You're lying. You're all lying. Will. Hannibal. You're lying to each other and they're lying to you. This isn't in my head. You are hiding something and this will end badly for all of us.” Jack considers Alana's state and carefully asks: “What do you believe is happening?”

“What do you believe? Do you believe Will killed Freddie Lounds?”

“I do not.”

“Do you believe Dr. Chilton's the Chesapeake Ripper?” Alana feels as if she is going mad from all that has crumpled around her. “There was overwhelming evidence–”

Alana angrily interjects; “Stop lying. You think you've moved all your pieces around so cleverly.” Jack's eyes narrow, studying Alana. “What's changed, Alana?”

“I have no confidence that I know Hannibal Lecter anymore. Even with as much as you know or think you know Hannibal, you don't know him either. And you don't know Will. And I’m not sure anyone knows Y/N. You're going to lose, Jack. If you haven't lost already.” Jack stares a long moment, then: “I want you to come with me.”

BAU - CORRIDOR - DAY-

Jack leads Alana down the hall, toward the conference room. Every step Alana takes is filled with dread. Jack opens the door and he firmly ushers her through --

BAU - CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY-

ALANA as she comes through the door. Jack following behind her. Alana follows his gaze and stops short, stunned. FREDDIE LOUNDS.

“How was my funeral?” Alana looks at Jack Crawford. Her eyes well up as the gravity of its meaning WALLOPS her. That she has been putting Will Graham in terrible danger.

MUSKRAT FARM - PIG BARN - NIGHT-

The barn is dark, but LIGHTS BURN on the raised platform. And OPERA MUSIC drifts toward us from the speakers. The maze is a BLACK MONOLITH in the center of the floor. RAISED PLATFORM Mason Verger sits in a wing-back chair, a SUCKLING PIG in hisarms, and he listens to the music as he strokes it.

He stands and looks into the dimly-lit pit, at the rooting PIGS, SNORTING and GRUNTING below him.

He raises a REMOTE CONTROL and changes the music -- the SUDDEN HORRIFIC SCREAMS ring out! “Carlo, I don't think they've had enough to eat.” Mason turns and is surprised to see Will Graham standing behind him. Mason shuts off the recorded screams, then:

“You must be the baby daddy. Excuse me if I don't offer you a cigar.” Will PUNCHES Mason, bloodying his nose. Mason touches the blood and examines it, then laughs in Will's face.

“I'm going to feed you to my pigs.” Will violently grabs Mason by the scruff of his collar and drags him off his feet and over to the pigpen opening. “Carlo? Carlo.” Will roughly pulls Mason to the edge and dangles him partially over the hungry, SQUEALING pigs below. Mason's eyes are more rage-filled than even Will's.

“No I’m not. I’m a friend. But do You think it was Margot's idea to have an heir? Think it was your idea to take it from her? My idea to come here and kill you? No….What you, your sister and I all have in common is the same psychiatrist.” Will drops Mason on the metal grating, hard. Mason gathers his wits, debating lunging at Will's back... then Will turns with a gun pointed directly at the prodigal Verger. “If Dr. Lecter had his dithers, you'd be wrapped around a bullet.”

Will tucks the gun back into his holster, adding: “He's the one you want to be feeding to your pigs…”

[swiftlyswan]

my thoughts on the lovejoy merch

tldr: i'm disappointed in the lovejoy merch. it doesn't promote their band and should have at least included their logo somewhere. i think anvilcat needs to be pushed as a character of the band, and have mocked up some of my own designs that i think would work better.

lovejoy has gone about this merch drop like a cc would - trying to make subtle references and items that people wouldn't be 'embarrassed' about wearing in public. this is not how band merch works! not only a money maker, band merch is key for promotion and advertising.

think about nirvana, metallica, the rolling stones. their logos are SO iconic and recognisable because they were used fucking EVERYWHERE! it SCREAMS their name. the lovejoy merch doesn't say their name ANYWHERE, and instead only pushes the name of their record label, and i have absolutely no idea why they landed on this (i know it's are you alright themed but cmon, why are you pushing that motif more than your band name?)

before i get into what i think they should have done, let's talk about what they did:

fucking inconsistent long sleeve: anvil cat records logo is alright but the shape of the anvil isn't readable. i'm always a fan of sleeve details but the lyric choice feels a bit immature (?) overall pretty boring

anvil cat records short sleeve: this is a worse version of the previous logo. the cat has no detail and and makes the anvil even less readable. and again, why are they pushing the record label logo instead of the band's?

it's only available in black and white which is very basic and i think would have worked better with a red/maroon print to fit the are you alright theme.

jimjam pocket: really not a fan of this. from a distance it's a yellow long sleeve that you're paying £35.00 for. up close it's a tiny print of a dog character that honestly i don't think works well enough to printed (fine as album artwork but like this just looks like a black smudge lmao). movin on bc i don't want to think about this one anymore

socks: i like them. unique item to sell. designs look alright - not much else to say

pebblebrain jumper: this is BY FAR the best product and you can tell that they have put the most effort into this. it looks high quality and is quite impressive that they've been able to make it. this is the only item i was considering buying (the price put me off) i'm not mad that this isn't explicitly promoting the band bc you can tell they were making it from a fashion pov more than a 'listen to our band' pov

so overall, it's a disappointing merch drop. i understand what they were trying to do since it was promoted as a 'one year celebration' merch drop, and so making an item for each ep (and the knee deep cover?) makes sense to mark what they've released since forming as a band, but i think 90% of their focus (and budget) went into the design and logistics behind the pebblebrain jumper, leaving the other products to fall short.

so what should they have done?

lovejoy already have an incredibly designed logo, and i am beyond confused as to why they haven't used it anywhere - especially when they're celebrating their first year as a band! it's literally your name!

slap that on a t-shirt and you can call it a day - it makes so much sense and i really want to know what the thought process was behind not using it. not only is it literally the brand you're trying to promote - it's a good looking logo!

they also have this amazing cat skull logo (which i'm a huge fan of) this is a WAY BETTER representation of anvil cat, and helps to convey the genre and tone of their music. it relates perfectly to are you alright and is instantly recognisable. it will stay in people's minds, but the only way to do that is to USE IT.

speaking of anvil cat, i made my own designs for him. imo, he should be the (face? mascot? character?) of lovejoy. the bird is a bird. the dog is annoying to look at and was created for a cover. the anvil cat has a story and the possibility to have a personality for fans to know and love and associate the band with. he directly links to the lovejoy's biggest song that started their whole career. he has a huge potential to become an icon for the band as well as a marketing tool.

my mockups are messy but they get the point across. look at him! the crossed out eyes, tongue hanging out, and the exposed ribs from the anvil! it makes sense! but get this - lovejoy have already experimented with his design, here he is, a small icon used in the centre of the poster promoting their halloween show.

i think that's all my ramblings for now. sound off in tags or replies what u think. am i completely wrong and should be burned at the stake for insulting precious band? maybe. but i mean it in good faith. i wouldn't care this much if i didn't want them to succeed

[tenjiiku]

21 : only

The chime of the shop rings with prominence. You already know who it is without lifting your gaze from your newspaper.

“Darling, love of my life, fire of my heart,” The man sings — an annoying, sickly sweet tone — his volume increasing as he glides his way to the front reception desk, “The machine is broken again.”

You cough, adjusting your newspaper. He is so abnormally tall his hair is all you can see from your periphery. Why he presents himself in such a way you never want to know.

“Then go to another laundromat,” you murmur quickly. You have grown accustomed to dismissing his outlandish behaviour. It is a second instinct at this point.

“Nah. I wouldn’t receive such service anywhere else — you are special, you know? One of a kind.”

You choke a little at his hoax of his compliment, “You make me sick.”

A large hand puts your newspaper down. You allow it, only because you wanted this interaction to end. Even seated on a swivel chair, elevated to its highest position, you have to crane your head a little to meet him in the eye. You see yourself in the reflection of the dark glasses he cunningly chooses to wear inside.

When you scowl he returns it with a cheshire grin.

“Thank you. You’re too sweet.”

“What do you want, Satoru?” You do not use his last name or any honorific to address him despite his age. He was older than you by a few years — but certainly did not act the part — so you do not think he deserves your respect. Your host father told you he does — something about his being from a prominent private school as an educator, which you cannot possibly fathom being the truth. But only in front of you is Satoru Gojo an inane, odd man with a need for clean, dry-cleaned clothes that, for some strange reason he has conjectured in his equally baffling mind, only you can provide.

“You.”

The wrinkle that had formed between your brows drops in less than a second. This was the typical routine. You would get annoyed — and he would get a sick kick from that. You refused to be his entertainment, so, for once you decide to be the bigger person.

“My friend is a police officer. He is five minutes away,” you retort, not being the bigger person. Though actions did speak louder than words.

Satoru places his elbow on the desk. He has to bend his back in an uncomfortable manner to do so — and he leans his face on his palm which only makes the position and his stature appear more cretinous and acute.

“You’re pretty when you’re angry, do you know?”

“Go die.” (You are being a bigger person today only through your actions. Not your words, you quickly decide.)

“Can you let me buy you a coffee? Put me out of my misery?”

“Leave me alone. I will scream for A-chan.” (Your dog, sleeping peacefully somewhere in a corner near the dryers.)

“Awh,” he coos, tilting his head only more. You wonder if he has back problems. “That’s vulgar. I thought you were a good girl.”

At this, you flounder. Fisting your hands together, you rub at your forehead. Satoru possessed the putrid ability to irk you like no other. You look down at your textbook — you were on chapter five, studying deadlock before he came — and it was certainly fitting given his arrival.

“I am. For people I can tolerate.” You retort, monotone to not please his sadism.

He smiles anyways and leans forward, gazing towards where you look — a few sheets of loose-leaf paper with your begrimed writing. You can catch a glimpse of his azure coloured eyes through his lashes from this angle. At first they scared you. It was an utter oddity to you — you had seen nothing as strange from all your years tending to this run-down laundromat. People who came and went were not as nearly as fascinating as Satoru Gojo’s eye colour, unfortunately, but that was not to say they were not as interesting. Odd characters entered every now and then considering your laundromat being less than 5 metres away from a graveyard — which only begged the existence of Satoru all together.

Perhaps he was visiting someone every time he came. You liked to make stories of customers who you would encounter. That was Satoru’s because you could not think of anything else.

You never asked, he never said. This was how it went.

“What’s all this?” He questions, his tone softer than usual. You feel his eyes travel to your right shoulder, making you self-conscious.

For a second you think he knows of the pain you have been feeling there.

You shake your head of the plausibility.

“Homework,” you reply, curt and straight, adjusting your posture in your seat as a sudden wave of bashfulness has overcome you.

“For what?”

“My operating systems class.”

Satoru coos — treating you like you are some sort of stray cat when he is the one encroaching on your property. “Sounds hard. You’re real smart, then?”

You look up, mouth falling into a line as you mumble a small, “Yeah.”

You want this conversation to come to an end. But Satoru liked to season his prey and you were not an exception. You remember encountering one of his students once — you think their name was Megumi — who had told you to steer clear of Satoru if you wanted your sanity to remain intact. It was solid advice, the only possibility it did not cover was Satoru forcing himself in front of you no matter what turn you took.

“You have to give me something to work with here,” he moans dramatically.

You take some money from the tip jar and hold it out in front of him as an incentive.

“I’ll pay you ¥800 to leave me alone?”

Satoru takes the money, but he doesn’t leave.

“You’re a tough one, aren’t you?” He sneers at you. You crack your shoulders and decide to get started on the problem at hand because at this rate you will never finish your homework.

Walking towards the washers, you start speaking, not looking behind you to see if he is following because you already know he is.

“I don’t have time for this. Which machine isn’t operating?”

For once in his life, maybe out of the glory that overcame him from getting the upper hand on you once again, he complies.

“Third washer on the left, near the door.”

You walk towards it. Satoru stands next to you. His clothes float in a puddle that has formed within the washer — a drainage problem. Taking his clothes out of it, you rinse the soaked water in the sink and place them in another washer. If he chose to use half his brain he could have solved this himself. But after observing his smiles from your periphery and through the reflection of the glass door you come to realize he is enjoying himself.

An hour comes and go. Satoru talks your ear off at the reception even as others come and go. He puts his wet clothes in the dryer and folds them when they are finished, into a duffel bag.

When he stands in front of you, silent for the first time since his arrival, you know he is about to leave. You always give him a nice goodbye.

“Time for your weekly departure? Please do not bring clothes stained with blood to be dry cleaned next time. Mother almost fainted last week and is growing suspicious.”

Satoru smiles at you which lets you know that he understands your joke. He is handsome but he is nothing of your world, you realize. He only ever exists within the four wall of your parent’s laundromat and will only ever smell of floral detergent. It was better this way, you think.

“Awh. You’re worried for me?”

Your lips lay flat and you look down at your textbook.

“Have a nice day as well,” he murmurs, low. It catches you by surprise. When you lift your head up, he is already gone.

The pain on your right shoulder has stopped when the chime of the door opening and closing rings.

You pretend to ignore it — the feeling of his eyes and the growing aches surfacing within you — and go back to studying.

.

Satoru waits five minutes after he has left you to acknowledge his student following him. He stops near the abandoned phone booth he had found you sulking in two weeks prior — curled up with your legs tucked to your chest — pondering on about nonsensical things.

It was not the worst of the side effects you possessed after leaving your clan years ago and starting a new life with the Kobayashi’s at their laundromat.

“Megumi-chan, care to join me?”

He smiles when he sees his student scowl at him and he only continues to walk as he catches up.

“Why do you insist on pestering her? You know she will never remember. Yaga-san will be mad,” his student asserts after meeting his shoulders

Satoru does not answer right away. He recalls a fragment of a memory from his childhood. He had been doted on since his birth. You were a refreshing rarity, always hoping for a life greater than the one you were subjugated to — the daughter of a lowly maid, a normal girl for all purposes yet never treated as such. He remembers a small conversation you shared for less than a minute when he was only eight years old and you were five — how one day you wanted to be able to go to Hokkaido for the ice sculpture festival during the Winter. It was such a naive thing to aspire for. A cruel irony, really, that you still remained the same after so many years.

A snowflake falls towards Satoru’s shoe, but never quite graces its body.

Slinging an arm around his student, he answers brazenly, “I don’t know. I suppose I’m bored these days. Entertain me.”