#me catering to their needs and complaints and bad days

[choface]

-

[kinardsboy]

This has been sitting on my mind a lot lately but it seems extra relevant now with the way Tommy and by extension Lou has been criticized for acting “too gay” in ep 5. And while yes, I will agree Tommy acted slightly different in ep 5, it has absolutely everything to do with Lou’s incredible acting choices to play Tommy differently when he is around people he deems as “safe” which is much better explained in this amazing post here <-

All these complains are doing is just yet again exposing buddies as homophobes who are, at the end of the day. Uncomfortable with real queerness being shown infront of them. Of course we already knew this with how they react to Buck and Tommy kissing and god forbid flirting especially if it has sexual implications like the daddy kink scene.

They can’t possibly fathom their precious uwu baby Buck would be sexual with another man so they spin and twist it however they can to make it out to be, “NO! You see! Tommy started the flirting! Tommy is just an insatiable horny gay man! He only wants sex! Like most of them do!”

Which is again spewing homophobic rhetoric, who wouldve guessed thats what they immediately turn to?

I now have something probably controversial to say but oh well, im going to say it anyway.

A good many of these shippers would be deeply uncomfortable with Buddie actually becoming canon, because they would be nothing like their fanfic. They don’t want to see two men in a relationship, they want to see Eddie in a relationship with the character they project themselves onto.

There are so many examples of this but perhaps the biggest being the way Buck is made out to be the “woman” in the relationship and especially how he is made to be the “mom”

Buck and Tommy’s relationship 1st does not have any children involved so there are no gendered roles to be assigned (even though if there was.. theyd just both be a dad), they are both beefy and the same height, which is what people usually use to decide “top” and “bottom” but again since there is little physical difference between them, they cannot do this, which only adds to their uncomfortableness.

Furthermore, I would go as far to say that Buddie shippers dont actually like Buck.

A while back a shipper posted this analysis of Buddie, that essentially reduces Buck to a dog. A pet. Only to be let out of the bedroom to cook and take care of Chris, otherwise he’s meant only for Eddie’s pleasure.

Which, disgusting. But the thing that stood out most to me was how Tommy was criticized for

letting Buck be himself. For accepting and loving him flaws and all. For not trying to change anything, or “train” the bad out of him

While Eddie was the “trainer” in that scenario, that had to train the bad out of Buck in order for him to be acceptable.

And thats the funny thing isnt it? Buddie shippers have to completely warp and destroy Buck’s character to make him fit their mold of perfect partner for Eddie. They make him out to be this helpless person who can’t even tell Tommy he doesnt want to be called Evan, that needs rescuing from Tommy, that is a “mother figure” to Chris, that his “dream role” would be live in chef and maid for the diaz family..

When none of that is Buck.

Buck is a smart, independent and strong man. He has worked tirelessly on himself to know who he is and what he wants, which right now? Is with Tommy.

Bringing it back to my main point, their complaints of Tommy being more gay and Bucktommy intimacy ultimately just boil down to homophobia plain and simple, seeing real queer representation and not representation that they can specifically twist and cater to themselves through fic, headcanons or gifs, makes them uncomfortable

(could this be why so many of them ignore shows with canon m/m ships for favor of shows with fanon ones that will never actually happen? So they can make these demands for representation then shit on it as soon as they get it because its not fanfic? Its not their fetish specifically catered to them? It actually represents real life queer men who they don’t actually like?)

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for cooking for myself?

I (22F) happen to be a very picky eater, partly due to my autism. I dislike most common food, and when I actually like a certain food, I tend to prefer it to be cooked in a different way than what people usually prefer. For example, most people fry liver just for a few minutes and call it a day, but I like it hard boiled instead and drink its water as soup. Also, I hate salt with a passion, I will avoid eating any food if the salt taste was barely noticeable, and I don't use it at all when I cook.

When I was younger, I would express my disgust clearly when I was offered something I didn't like, I didn't mean it as an insult, that was my way of explaining why I refused to eat it and was mostly met with "if you don't like our cooking then go cook yourself". It was frustrating to me because people insist I eat even when I clearly tell them I don't like it, and take it personally that I don't like it.

Now that I'm older, I stopped criticizing people's cooking and just try a spoonful before I decide whether I want to fill my plate, it doesn't always work though because sometimes they fill my plate for me and I try to eat it in silence if it turns out to be someone I don't like.

Anyway, I hate cooking with a passion and I suck at it, not to mention that my cooking is usually weird and only suits my taste. I also like to experiment a lot and try crazy combinations without a recipe, so sometimes I fail miserably and force myself to eat it because wasting food is immoral.

Whenever someone cooks at home, they always make extra in case anyone wanted to eat. I used to make extra in case anyone wanted to try, but they just taste and leave it, and it's a burden for me to finish all that food myself, because even if I like it, it's boring to eat the same thing for 3 days in a row. It's specially bad when the thing I cook goes bad quickly and I have to eat it in the same day or throw it away. And it's too frustrating when it's a failed dish that taste terrible and I have to suck it up and eat it.

I got yell at a lot for cooking "too much", so I decided to cook only for myself, just one person's portion, but then my family would want to try it, and get mad it's not enough for all of us, and I end up hungry because I have to share what little food I have. Sometimes I'd eat all of it before anyone finds me, but they know I cooked because of the unwashed dishes. My dad (55M) has complained numerous times about the fact I don't cook for them, and tells my mom how upset he is that I don't share. My mom asked me to count my dad at least whenever I cook something, so I started making just a tiny bit of extra food, but he always complains about everything and ends up refusing to eat it most of the times. The main offender is the lack of salt in my cooking, he's always complaining about that, but I just pass the salt for him. He doesn't like it and insists salt needs to be added at the beginning when the food is being cooked for it to taste good, but that would defeat the purpose of me cooking at all. He also complains about all the things I do differently, that my cooking is "wrong" when it's just done the way I like it.

Frustrated with the extra food and complaints about the way I cook, I stopped counting my dad whenever I cooked, sometimes if I could reach out to him before I start cooking, I ask he wants to eat the thing I plan to cook, most of the times he says no and it's a relief because I know he wouldn't like it anyway. If don't asks him and he know I cooked something and didn't count him, he gets upset.

My mother, sister and brother don't act this way, they know they wouldn't like my cooking so they don't ask me to count them, but if there's extra they just taste it from time to time and end up criticizing it to death. My dad is the only one who gets upset that I'm catering to myself, he says it's selfishness on my part, that cooking is meant to be enjoyed by everyone. I DO cook for everyone sometimes when my mom is away, but like I said before, I'm terrible at it and they don't like it either way even if I try to cook the way everyone likes it, and use salt, but nobody wants to eat it anyway and i'm forced to eat all the food because i'm the one who cooked it. My brother (15M) is a self taught gourmet chef and decides to be the one to cook whenever mom isn't home, so I stopped even trying to cook for everyone altogether and only cook for myself whenever I want to.

Tl;dr I have to cook for myself because that's the only way I can get something that caters to my taste, but I'm wrong for not making it edible for other people and for being a terrible cook. AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[darbyoakana]

An Overlord's Tail - Chapter 2

An Overlords Tail Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10

Summary: Vox X reader, F/M. Vox shows up at your apartment, wanting you back. Warnings: Fingering, vaginal penetration. This story is 18+, minors can fuck right off.

Other Notes: Enjoy the smut, after Chapter 2 it's going to be a slow burn

Darby Link Tree

____________________________________________

Chapter 2: (Un)wanted Visitor

“Don’t actions speak louder than words?” The hand at your cheek ran its fingers through your hair. His other hand pulled you into him by your waist. Holding your breath, you tensed as he leaned in. You bit your lip. “See, you missed me too.” 

______________________________________________

The next few days weren’t so bad, you had two days left in the imaginary trial period. Charlie was keeping Alastor busy which meant you actually had time to work. Your shoes had remained dry, papers were finally organized. Several of which clearly had dried tears on them. One even had blood. You felt bad for whoever had previously attempted this job. You skimmed through the few existing reports on the computer, catching up on the resident drama. 

You were in the middle of making a list when Alastor’s shadow swatted the cup of pens off your desk, laughing as it darted away. You groaned and rolled your eyes. The shadow itself was proving to be much like a sinister cat, not really causing any serious damage but you wanted to strangle it nonetheless. Could you strangle a shadow? Alastor himself had changed his approach on how to aggravate you. While he was not fond of people touching him or invading his personal space, he seemed to live a life of double standards. Alastor constantly got into people’s personal bubbles. Maybe he thought it bothered you as much as it would bother him? The micromanaging however was getting on your nerves. 

Speaking off, just as you finished up your first resident report, there was Alastor. Face way too close to yours. You turned your head to face him, your noses almost touched. This was the sixth time he’d bothered you today. 

“Good afternoon dear!” 

“Hi. Is there something I can help you with sir?” you asked, trying to keep a professional tone. 

“Just checking on your progress!” 

“Oh, that's actually perfect I have a few things I wanted to run by you!” 

“Is that so? I am all ears!” 

“Well, one of the biggest complaints we’ve had so far is the lack of laundry services. Nifty has been taking care of it but we are starting to get an overwhelming amount of requests. I know Nifty enjoys what she does, so I don’t know if hiring more help in that department is the right call. But I was thinking we might want to consider creating a laundry room where guests can take care of their own laundry, which would take some weight off Nifty’s plate. She’d still take care of the bedding in the rooms, but the residents would be responsible for their own clothes. So in the meantime, I’ve contacted a laundry mat down the street and worked out a deal with them to give our residents a discount for using them.”

“Lovely idea!” 

Alastor was starting to think you might actually be right for this role. In truth, he needed someone with the ability to endure this hotel. While driving people away was fun for him, it did serve a purpose. 

“Secondly, looking at the meal schedule and cost- We are spending a lot on wasted food. And the meal schedule is a bit of a shit show. Relying on guests to sign up isn’t running smoothly. I did find out that the guest in room 310 used to be a chef. I asked him, and he is willing to take care of meals 3 days a week. And with the increase of residents, a continental breakfast would be more efficient. And we could have a simple rotating menu for dinners. I called around and got some quotes on catering services that I can go over with you later.” You whispered the last part.  ”This would also lower the chances of Charlie cooking.”

“Ha Ha!” He squeezed your cheeks in his hand like a grandma would, just much harder. “My my, aren’t you efficient.” 

“Thank you” you mumbled out of your squished mouth.

Overall you felt that things were going pretty well, Alastor wasn’t as aggressive about getting rid of you, and you were proving to be useful. And he had someone new to bother. 5 PM rolled around, and you felt far less exhausted than you did the previous nights. As you were heading out the door- 

“Hey toots, were you not offered residency here at the hotel?” Angel asked, sitting at the bar. 

“I was. I figured it was better to wait until the ‘trial period’ was over before making the commitment.” 

“What trial period?” 

“Haven’t you noticed, Alastor’s been driving anyone away who takes this job,” Husk remarked. “But you seem to be doing alright so far, kid, what’s your secret?” 

“A tortuous six years at VoxTek,” you laughed. 

“Oh shit, I thought you looked familiar! You were Vox’s assistant… and uh… Side piece if I’m not mistaken.” He winked at you.

“That is unfortunately correct.” 

There was that intrusive image of Vox fucking you on his desk again. 

“Oh man, he’s going to shit an absolute brick when he finds out you are working here!” Angel said, amused. 

“Yeah well, whatever, fuck him,” you remarked. 

“So you still miss him huh?” Angel said slyly. If anyone knew anything about toxic codependent relationships with your boss, it was Angel. “It will get easier, promise.” 

“Doing my best to push it out of my mind and focus on other things.”

“Well, I think it’s great you were strong enough to leave and start over. It is very unlikely Vox would show up at the hotel. And HEY- if there's ever a boss that ain’t gonna try to fuck you, it’s Mr. Creepy pants over there.”  He nodded towards Alastor who was talking with Charlie. You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Good to know. Well, I got to get going guys, see you tomorrow.” 

As you made your way up the stairs to your apartment, you worried. There was no way you’d be paid in time to keep your apartment, even if you were, you were a month behind. Your keys jingled in the lock as you swung the door open. Your apartment was a tiny studio. Empty kitchen, mattress on the floor, nothing to write home about. But tonight there was one thing in your apartment that didn’t belong there. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” There, sitting on your counter was Vox. “Please, let yourself in. Make yourself at home.” 

“Aw come on babe, don’t be like that.”

“And how should I be?” you asked aggressively.

“Are you still mad? Aw, dollface, you know I’m sorry.” He hopped off the counter and walked towards you. “I want you back, come home with me, please?” 

“Fuck off Vox.”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you, I miss you. Plus my new assistant is garrrrrbaaaage.” 

“You are really something, you know that? It’s been three months. Three months I’ve been gone and you haven’t reached out once.” 

“I wanted to give you your space. But don’t you think it’s been long enough, doll?” He pouted. “Plus you need somewhere to live, you’ve-”

“Oh. My. God.” You cut him off. “You bought this building, didn’t you? Just so you could evict me? ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS!?” 

“Just a little motivation, that’s all.” 

“The manipulation never ends with you, does it?” You were wide-eyed, angry.

“Oh please, you want to talk manipulation? You think I wouldn’t find out about your new little job?” He scoffed. “Low blow, babe. Working for Alastor just to get back at me?” 

“I know there is nothing I can say to make you believe otherwise, but not everything is about you. I couldn’t find any other job, I have no idea why but no one else would…..” You paused as it clicked in your mind. You took a deep breath and sighed. “You’ve been sabotaging that too, haven’t you? The hotel was the only job you didn’t have power over.” You started to laugh. “That’s just too brilliant. All your efforts and now I’m the one place you can’t reach me.” 

That pissed him off. Vox pushed you against the wall, you continued to laugh. Vox had become unfamiliar with not getting what he wanted. People went out of their way to please him, including you. But not anymore and he didn’t like it. 

“Quit being a bitch about this. I said I was sorry. If you don’t want to work, that’s fine.” His voice softened. “Babe, I’ll take care of you.” He ran his finger down your cheek. “Come back, please.” 

You were struggling to ignore the wetness between your legs. You were desperate to feel close to someone, you’d been lonely and in truth, missed Vox quite a bit. 

“You can’t talk your way out of this one.” You avoided looking him in the eye.

“Don’t actions speak louder than words?” The hand at your cheek ran its fingers through your hair. His other hand pulled you into him by your waist. Holding your breath, you tensed as he leaned in. You bit your lip. “See, you missed me too.” 

Your brain was screaming, alarms going off. Don’t give in, don’t be weak! But it was too late. Vox’s tongue was exploring your mouth, and the ache in your loins was throbbing. He knew he had you. The hand at your waist drifted down to your thigh, his fingers pushed your panties to the side, sliding between your lips. 

“Fuck, doll, you are so wet right now.” He sunk two fingers into you, and you held his shoulders as you gasped, every muscle clenching. Leaning his screen on your forehead, he whispered. “Mmm fuck, I’ve missed you so much.” 

His fingers moved in and out of you, slowly, as his thumb grazed your clit. You felt the heat rise within your whole body. You’d given in and didn’t care. Things had been difficult, you were exhausted and ate up the idea of forgetting everything for a few moments. You wanted to feel loved more than anything, even though you knew deep down it wasn’t real, it wouldn’t last. Your hand ran down his chest, palm cupping his hard cock under his pants. He moaned softly. His fingers became more aggressive, fueled by need. Your hand fumbled to find his belt, clawing at it, desperately trying to unbuckle it while he pummeled your wet cunt with his claws. 

“You want my cock so bad, don’t you doll?” His free hand whipped the belt off him, and he dropped his slacks to his ankles, freeing his pulsing erection. You gripped his dick in your hand, he moaned as you ran your fingers up and down it slowly. “MMM. You want it, baby? Show me how much you want it.” 

His fingers pulled out of you, leaving you feeling hollow and a smear of wetness between your thighs. You lowered to your knees, licking his engorged head. Licking Vox’s penis was a lot like licking a battery, a light electrical sensation ran through your tongue. He spread his fingers, observing the strings of cum hanging between them, before placing them in his mouth. You were massaging with your tongue when his other hand gripped the back of your head, shoving your face closer to his body. His cock hit the back of your throat with a gag. 

“Uuuhhhmmph! G̷̩̥̪̠̃͂̂͋̕̕ͅŏ̴̢͉̥̘̀̇̑̾̃̋̚̚ḑ̵̝͍̟̼͕̭̯̝̗̯̇͆͗̔̂̊͠a̸̧̺̮͕̦͖̝̻͓̠̱͎̻̤̓͒̊͂̿͊͂͋̊̚ͅm̶̳̙̆͆̀̈͆̔n̴̙̲͙͕̅ babe.”

Relaxing your jaw, you let him fuck your face. Tears welled up in the corner of your eyes from suppressing your gags. He pulled your head back to look at the mess he’d made of you. Running his tip over your lips.

“Fuck me, please,” you softly whined.

“Anything for you, babe.”

Still holding a tight grip on your hair, he guided you to your feet before shoving you onto the bed. You laid back, resting on your elbows, legs open. Vox slotted himself between them. He ran his tip up and down between your sopping-wet lips, humming at the sensation. 

“I love it when you look so needy, don’t worry hun, I’m going to make you feel so good.”

You bit your lip in anticipation, laying back fully on the bed. Leaning over you now, in one thrust he inserted the entirety of his shaft into you. You cried out, in both pleasure and pain. He gripped your throat as he relentlessly punished your cunt with his dick. Vox let out a pleasured grunt as your soft tissues clenched around him. The wet slap of his pelvis meeting yours was divine, but it was the cries you made that sent him closer and closer to climax. 

“F̸̛̛̱̤͇̘̬͙̪͌̍͛̔̉̍u̶̪̗̝̅̿̄́̆̉̎͘͠͠ǔ̶̧͖͈̦̺̹͈̳̹͙͉̤̱̍̎̈͗̓̈́͋̓̏ừ̸͉̪̇̈́̌̍̌̂͂̊͒̀̕ç̴̡̲̲̼̠͙̖̺̮̝̻̟̃̉̒̓̑̐́̏͌̎̊͘̚͠ͅc̵̨͔͕̉͑̾͊̇̾͑̒̾̑̋͠ͅk̵̨͙̜̦͔̗͚͊͑…” His screen glitched as he bottomed out, over and over.

"Please..." your eyes rolled up into your head. “Please… Please Vox” 

“You know how much I love it when you beg,” he growled. “I’m going to make you cum so hard, you won't be able to walk.”  

His thrusts became shorter and harder, close to the end. He was holding off his climax the best he could, craving the feeling of you cumming all over his cock. You were close, the build-up was knotting up in you. You knew the neighbors could probably hear you at this point, you no longer had any control over the sounds escaping your slacked-open mouth. And with a jagged gasp, you squirted, riding the waves of orgasm. Vox hissed as the tightening of your walls sucked him into you, filling you with his own release. Your jaw chattered as a small surge of electricity washed over your body with his orgasm. You both remained motionless for a few moments, catching your breaths before he slowly pulled out of you. He collapsed on the bed next to you, you rolled to your side to meet his gaze. 

“You know I’m sorry, right?” his tone was sincere as he cradled your cheek in his hand. 

“I do,” you tried to give him a smile, but the tears were already building in your eyes. “I believe you, that you are sorry. I can even forgive you, eventually. But it doesn’t change what happened.” 

“I can make it up to you, I promise. Please give me the chance.” 

“How can I? You hypnotized me and broke my trust. It makes me question everything.” 

“I know,” he sighed. “It was fucked up of me. I swear I’ll never do it again, we can even make a deal. Just.. come back.. Please.” 

“How many times though? Before I found out?” Vox felt a heaviness in his chest. Guilt ran across his face. “Are my feelings for you even real? Was any of it?” 

The tears were streaming, making a large wet spot on your pillow. 

“We can start over. I know it will take time but let me try to earn your trust again.”

“I’m sorry. But for once you have to live with the consequences of your actions.” You tried to wipe the tears away. 

The look of hurt on his screen was unbearable. It took everything to shove down the burning in your throat. You knew you couldn’t keep the strength to tell him no, not when he looked so pained. 

“I’m sorry Vox. You should go.” Your jaw shook as you let out a sob. You rolled over, turning your back to him. 

You wanted more than anything right now for things to go back the way it was. Blissfully ignorant. The moments when it was just you and Vox, who he was without the other Vs. The late nights, laughing and enjoying each other’s company. The flutters you’d feel from the way he’d glance at you in meetings. But things had become too broken to fix. Your heart ached. 

Vox reached out to touch you and hesitated, he swallowed hard. While, yes, he had made some poor choices. He did miss you, you were his relief from the day. Where he found comfort when Val was being too much. When the pressure of being who he was as an overlord became too heavy. He tried to tell himself otherwise but the cruel reality of it sunk in when you left. The realization that he took you for granted. 

You heard the crackle of electricity and with that Vox was gone. You let go of the strength, and the burning pain flooding up from your chest, exploding. You let out a loud wail. Curling into a ball holding yourself, you blubbered into your pillow. You cried for what felt like forever until you were completely empty and raw. 

Only then did you fall asleep. 

[cheesetalia]

and the crown tumbles down

For @aphcardverse-week's Day 2: You Should See Me In a Crown | coronation | celebration | chosen one

England/America | 959 words | warnings: noncon, major character death

Summary:

Political power lost, shackled to an obnoxious and despicable king, Arthur spirals a bit. But a mind can be a terribly fun thing to lose.

Can be read on the Archive of Our Own or underneath the Readmore:

"You're shit at giving head Artie," Alfred laughs, "but don't worry, you'll get plenty of chances to practice."

Alfred's cock, laying out hard in front of him, is long and thick and veiny, and the strong musk of it makes Arthur want to gag.

His eyes are full of tears as he glares up at Alfred, who's sprawled out on the throne.

He can't believe he's being made to do this.

*****

Later, rinsing his mouth out over and over again with mint water, Arthur plots.

*****

"Chosen king" Arthur's foot. Arthur had ruled the kingdom for over a decade with wisdom and good temper, bringing nothing but peace and prosperity to the people.

And what had it gotten him? Tossed aside, pushed into a submissive position, the minute some idiot yokel with the King's mark had been found. "Thanks for keeping the throne warm, now step aside."

And now there was mass mourning, the streets packed full of citizens wearing black, openly weeping as the funeral procession passed through. All this show over someone who hadn't even ruled a year! Arthur was grateful for the black veil he wore. It hid his features, which were twisted in fury rather than grief.

If they wanted downfall he'd let them have it. A good monarch was sensitive to the wishes of his people.

There was a rational part of his brain that saw the way he was reacting, understood it was illogical, announced this to him, and then was completely ignored. The people had betrayed him, it was that simple.

If they wanted to love Alfred more than him after all he'd done for them, then he was done with bending over backwards to make their lives better.

*****

The order to raise taxes was given out the next morning.

"There will be complaints," Yao warned.

"I don't care," Arthur said.

He was still dressed all in black, albeit trimmed with dark blue, and would be for the next year. He was like a dark shadow on the otherwise bright and glittering throne room, which was all bright blues and shining brass and copper. Arthur didn't mind; dull clothing was a small price to pay to be rid of that oaf Alfred.

"And why are you diverting all the funding from health, education—everything but defense?!" Yao exclaimed.

"It's not the kingdom's responsibility to cater to every individual's whim and need. There are more important things to spend state funds on," Arthur said.

His voice was toneless, empty, but his fingers tapped restlessly against the throne's armrest.

"Perhaps you should hold off on making any major changes right now, your majesty. It's only been a week since King Alfred passed—" Yao tried.

"What does he have to do with it?" Arthur asked, his green eyes boring into Yao.

Yao was taken aback.

The Queen had been...odd, since the King took the throne as co-ruler. And he was only getting stranger now that the King had died. Before, the Queen had seemed to simmer with a smothered anger. Now, the anger was still there, but it was as cold and cleanly cut as a shard of ice.

Yao found it harder and harder to talk to Queen Arthur. Dealing with his fits of temper had been easier when King Alfred was around; then, Yao could just go to the King about things whenever Arthur was in a bad mood.

It was the King who had had the final say anyway.

"Are you trying to preserve his rulings? Don't bother, Yao. He never cared about the finances, unless it was to get funding for some stupid project of his," Arthur said.

"No, that wasn't what I was trying to do at all!" Yao protested.

He'd just meant that the Queen was still in mourning, likely still in shock. Not in a state of mind that was good to make major decisions in. But Yao had a feeling if he said that it would only make things worse. Arthur wouldn't appreciate the insinuation that he was ever less than capable.

Arthur's bushy eyebrows furrowed as he stared at Yao. He'd already rid himself of one "appointed by the gods" menace; if he had to get rid of another, so be it.

"Are you going to have a problem carrying my orders out, Yao? I know you—just like everyone else—preferred to work with my husband," Arthur said.

"No your majesty, there will be no problem," Yao said. He could feel a bead of sweat rolling down his back.

"Then see to it," Arthur said, and waved a hand in dismissal.

Without a backwards glance he strode out of the throne room and towards his private rooms. Not the royal bedroom or walk-in closets or the parlor; he allowed servants in those. But he allowed no one in his personal library and laboratory. The spellbooks and potions in these rooms were too precious to be snooped through or damaged by some careless maid.

Now in his time of need, he turned to the one thing that never let him down: magic. There were powerful old spells and rituals he'd mentally toyed with but never crossed the line to cast. The magic too dark, the requirements too steep, the risks and collateral damage unacceptable.

But nothing would hold him back now. All those funds he'd pulled from public services would be needed to make his dreams a reality, to obtain rare and nearly priceless ingredients. Some couldn't be gotten for any amount of coin, he would likely need to wage war to obtain them. He could afford it.

Arthur was never going to relinquish his power again. Not to an upstart King, nor to the decline of old age and death either. He would rule forever.

[sideeffectsofhavingnolife]

IPKKND S:1 EP-4

I don't know why but I feel strangely exhausted today. Eh! Just one of those days.

Fourth Episode of Iss pyaar ko kya naam doon, here we come

"Maine tumse pehle bhi kaha hai, apni aukaat me raha karo" Sir, what?!

We just started and he's got her beat again. Let my girl vent once. I want her to say some real ugly stuff, he deserves it.

"Kyu... Kya kiya maine? "This bitch! Look at his smug face.

Girl, stop clutching your Kurta and try to snap back at least.

There he goes, Score 4:0

Yeah, sure! Follow him and preach about God. Definitely the next best course of action.

Look at him talking about dard, you're not the only one who has endured pain in life, buddy, it doesn't give you the right to be an asshole or to harass women.

I thought the speech would be about him being a dick the last time they met and possibly a threat of lodging a harassment complaint.

But go off, Khushi, tell him how big and universal God is, whom Arnav doesn't even believe in. Seems like it should work.

Damn! I was just being sarcastic but looks like it actually worked, he looks pissed.

Where are you even scurrying off to? Oh right! She has to apologize to a lot of people.

Fuck! I knew that the fashion show footage would be on the news but I didn't predict that Arnav would do it to take revenge.

Lol, he cares more about a girl who made a lousy speech than his own company's reputation.

I can't say this enough, the sister and the dad are the most sweetest.

Who was the groom, anyway? Are we ever gonna meet him?

Oh, she mentioned the missing pearls.

I feel bad for my girl, sexual harassment is not a joke, it can be so traumatizing.

Yay! The return of 'Laard Governer'.

Did this man just called him 'bhai'

"Bhai, navratre chal rahe hai" same here dude, perfectly matched the timing.

Let's not oversell, Khushi.

You barely made a dent and it still made him mad.

"Chote log aksar aukaat se bada mooh kholte hai" There's no end to this shit.

This guy seems really close to Arnav. Wonder what's their deal?

We are in for a dance sequence, I guess.

Or more like casual fun.

The mother saw, she is gonna be even more upset.

Not the freeze with the broom right in her face.

Mom! Come be a part of this.

Yes, coax her in. I want to spend some good moments with the mother, I feel like she has been sulking from the very start.

That's right! collective Bua slander is what we live for in this house.

"Aap hi ki beti hu na?"

Let's go! Be the wholesome family you all deserve.

I already know the dad's gonna be a part of it. So stop with the tense music.

Aghh this Bua needs to shut the fuck up and get out of the house.

Why is your head aching Bua? Aap ne hi to sabke sar me dard kar rakha hai.

Thanks Dad! Keep your daughter away from this poisonous bitch.

What's with this nosy caterer? I guess we are not done with our toxicity quota of the day yet.

Somebody shoot this motherfucker down, please.

That's your signal, Khushi. Tear this man a new one.

Nice, so that's her thing, she is good with accounting stuff.

The dad is so proud of her as well.

I wish the sister was here too but she is stuck making chai for the Bua at home.

What a weird shooting set! The fake stars, disco balls, and a backdrop that looks like someone upscaled a screenshot of a Google image. Not to mention the bad lighting. Like what exactly are you even shooting for?

Are those the dresses from the Runway? Because they look just as terrible.

He basically called him a kutta and I am not surprised.

But I don't understand why won't he just throw money at his face if he is so rich.

Are padaaa!

He shouldn't have challanged Arnav's childhood trauma.

Don't talk about people's mother disrespectfully in general, though.

Another one!

2 Crores for two slaps. I wish I got a deal like that. I'd be a billionare by now, if only my mother beating me counted.

Back to Bua ji. 🙄

Fuck! she'll discover the footage first. That's not gonna end well.

What the fuck is this news reporter?

No but why are the needless arrows and circles so absurdly accurate, I've seen it in real news channels.

The sister showed up as well.

Nah! There's no way any cameras were taking those close ups.

How did these people even saw this news?

Somebody in the crowd literally said "Dekh dekh, kaise chal rahi hai?" like what?

Of, course, they are standing in front of a television store but also how did they recognise her so fast? Am I the only person in the world who won't be able to tell even the most famous celebrity apart from a crowd. If they were not surrounded by a crew.

Holy shit! The reporter's voice over just scared me.

"Pakke hue aam ki tarah tapak jaati hai" Please! 😂I am guessing they paid the reporter or he has a personal vendetta against her because why would you deliver these statements with such intristic passion if not for money?

Okay, so it reallly picked up at the end. Excited to see what happens next. I mean I am sure this would lead to some sort of inciting incident but at the same time, it would reallly hurt to see Khushi's parents' dissapointed faces.

But let's not act like I didn't wish for more drama.

[bunbeeplays]

The Lemon Legacy: Generation 1, Chapter 69 - Just Desserts

The Hot Girls take a break from fitness and have some brunch at a bar near their gym.

Ophelia's life update isn't the most cheery, but she's glad to have the support of her friends.

Libby: Feefs, I'm so sorry.

Becca: What a creep. Don't worry, guys like that always get what they deserve.

Ophelia: I hope so, but things don't always work out like they do in your books, Becca.

Becca: Don't remind me. Still waiting for Travis to tell me he's a secret prince.

Summer: Hector Laurent… That name sounds familiar. Guess I've heard you talk about him.

Ophelia: Well, I'd like to stop talking about him. He's not going to live rent-free in my mind.

Libby: Good for you, girl! Summer, how was the honeymoon?

Summer: It was perfect. I just wish I had one more vacation day from my doofus coworkers.

Libby: Aww, it can't be that bad!

Summer: My one caterer Mila is really getting on my nerves, considering how many complaints we get about her not actually cooking at her catering gigs.

Summer: Speaking of work, I've gotta head out. I've got a couple meetings at work today, so I'm going in early.

Ophelia gets up to hug her.

Ophelia: Bye, good luck!

Summer: Thanks, girly pop. Let us know if you need anything. Love you!

Summer got promoted to Head Caterer at Make-A-Dish shortly before she got engaged to Mark. She's settled into the role quite nicely. She loves bossing people around!

As she finishes up a call, Mila walks into her office.

Mila: Excuse me, Summer, but a potential client is here to see you.

Summer: I don't have my calendar pulled up. Did they give you a name?

Mila: Hector Laurent.

Summer: HECTOR LAURENT?!

That's why the name rang a bell.

Mila: I-I'm sorry, did I do something wrong?

Summer: For once, no. Send him in. I'm eager to talk to him.

Mila: Yes, ma'am.

Hector comes in, pleasant as ever.

Hector: This is a lovely office Miss…?

Summer: MRS. Eggleston. You must be Hector Laurent. I've heard a lot about you.

Hector: Good things, I hope!

Summer doesn't react to his joke.

Summer: Pull up a chair. Let's chat.

If Hector notices the stink eye Summer is giving him, he doesn't show it.

Hector: I've got a great business opportunity for you.

Summer: Enlighten me.

Hector: I run one of the most successful wedding venues out there and we're looking for a new caterer.

Summer: Fascinating.

Hector: This would be a great source of revenue for your catering team-

Summer: Oh, would it? I suppose technically it would be, since my employees would probably get a lot of money out of your pocket from harassment lawsuits.

Hector: Mrs. Eggleston, I-I don't-

Summer: Don't play dumb with me, Laurent. You thought word wouldn't get out that you tried to force your employee to woohoo you? If you think I'm sending my team into the lion's den, you're as stupid as that hat makes you look.

Hector: I think there's been a misunderstanding-

Summer: No, it's clear as day that you tried to take advantage of a woman you held a position of power over.

Hector: Who told you this? Was it Ophelia? You can't trust a word that harlot says!

Summer: Keep her name out of your damn mouth!

Hector: This is a highly unprofessional way to conduct business.

Summer: Good thing we're not conducting business then. Sounds like when this goes fully public, you won't have any clients for us to cater for anyway!

Hector: I'll gladly take my business elsewhere.

Summer: Good luck after the email I'm going to send out.

Hector: What's that supposed to mean?

Summer: Us caterers might be in competition with each other, but we do talk, you know.

Summer: No one going to send their employees to a known predator. I'm warning every restaurant from here to Sixam that you're not a safe client.

Hector: That's libel! I'll sue!

Summer: There was a witness to your misconduct. Plus, you knocked up an employee. You MADE evidence!

Hector: She didn't work for me at the time! My personal life has nothing to do with my business!

Summer: You sure made inappropriate workplace conduct your business!

Hector: You can't do this to me!

Summer: Blacklist you? Yeah, what kind of monster threatens to do that?

Summer: Now get the hell out of my office! Enjoy your time before you become a total pariah. And next time, think twice before messing with Summer Eggleston's friends, bitch!

Hector doesn't know what to do other than slink out of the office in shame.

Having no idea how much Summer just ruined a huge part of Hector's ability to operate his business, Ophelia has been blissfully working on improving her baking skill for New Skill Day. That better be a thank you pie for Summer, girl!

[magnus-sm-writes]

This shit drives me up the wall. People insisting that one type of queer content cancels out another. "We don't need queer fluff! We need some super dark shit!" and then it's "We don't need super dark shit! We need queer fluff!"

The thing is, straight people get media of all kinds. They get everything from the fluffiest romance to the darkest, grittiest horror. And people don't say "straight people deserve more than X".

Queer people deserve to have all sorts of stories told about us. All genres, all levels of quality. Some of us really adore slice of life fluff; some of us prefer dark dramas; some of us love realism, and others love speculative fiction. I think that's wonderful. Everyone is allowed to have their own preferences, and it's wonderful to have shows that cater to those while also being queer.

As a queer author, I write in lots of different genres because I love reading across genres. It's fun to go from writing fantasy horror to fluffy romance in one day.

There's an audience out there for everything I write. And there is for everything you write, too. Maybe it's not the same audience for everything; that's a testament to personal taste. Don't let articles like this discourage you. For me, people making these sort of complaints just make me write more of whatever I like out of spite. Clearly, there's an audience for both shows; why not just let them enjoy their stuff?

Anyways. Kicks soapbox away. Queer folks, keep on watching your favorites, and don't feel bad about what you like. There are always going to be people who love your work, and people who hate it.

[coolnightmarerunaway]

Strange Dynamics

I'm now watching from the outside, trying not to get pulled in.

I watch these people parrot each other. It can be a bit surreal.

A man joined me for conversation the other day. He told me he needed space from some people. "They are disgusting". "I don't think they like themselves", he says. I too have noticed these things.

Complaints are similar to maybe grade school children. "He didn't say hi to me". "She told me to fuck off. All I did was say hello". The mood inbalances some of these people have, should probably be medicated. Showing up in a bad mood, cursing at people, just being foul. Some days perhaps you should just stay home.

Disgusting behavior from poor taste jokes to poor taste everything. Manners, courtesy, common sense seem to be obsolete. Unnecessary, unfounded sense of superiority clearly on display.

Unnecessary stalking and reporting continue to be common factors. Drama and the desire to create it appears to be strong. If you're not happy in your own life, ensure others are not. Start fights between couples and pick on whom you think is the weakest. That will make you strong!

Requirements for behavior and activities. Some are okay with dictatorship, seems some are not. But alas, they stay in the one basket. Complaining away...

I'm starting to wonder just how well two women are getting along in the group. One spouts off about rules and regulations. The other warned her boyfriend, if he continues she will leave.

One woman was largely ignored by the group. Without her boyfriend, she doesn't exist. People do not approach her. Her boyfriend is now in a mandatory hugging "group". One must show their "respect". Even if that respect, is fraudulent. It'll make you feel Superior!

One lady who joined 'Sex workers' group (Whores for free!) is now requesting her boyfriend step away from the very group she signed up to blow. I wonder if he knows 🤫

One lady ended up with a medical condition. She got parroted support online. "You got this". When she needed to talk, no one was there. "You got this!" When she hoped to have someone come to visit, or take her out of the house, there wasn't a comment. I'm glad the idea of looking popular online with 20 of "you got this" is now appearing to be a shallow as it really is.

I imagine it must be difficult to be surrounded by so many and yet be utterly alone.

Continue on the facade of being 'popular' and having all these glorious friends, support. Just to find yourself crippled, alone and isolated. One woman was kind of aware of her isolation but hoping for the best. I think the second one just figure it out how much she really fit in. Perhaps she should have continued the "on her knees position" 😂

One little repulsive butterball troll of a woman with a very large mouth and she wants you to believe is the ability to back it up, enjoys being a "heat score", drama starter and just being foul. She enjoys starting incidents of road rage on a motorcycle, then complain about the automobile. She enjoys harrassing smaller women, she thinks she can sit on, I suppose... She teams up with the other bitter women.

There is a youngin in the group. She has an attitude problem. She is an "asexual" who hooks up with random men online. She enjoys going after older men, even when the men try to run away. Then she claims, the man was bad! She will go out of her way to make an uninterested man "jealous". She gets in moods, I suppose you're supposed to cater to her. Walk around on eggshells, that's the best way to be! She's very important now. 😂 The queen! The only interest people had in her was meeting her dad. Unfortunately she is strapped to his hip, people end up tolerating his very dramatic daughter. Most people claim to hate her. I didn't really mingle with her. Her jealousy over me was amusing however 😁

There is another lady, who started sleeping with a mechanic. Much like daughter, this one too thinks she is the queen of the roast. Before he even started dating the "lot lizard" she was already jealous of him. He is confused on why he is seemingly no longer as popular as he once was. Bitter daughter, bitter girlfriend, and an extremely moody man. Will anybody ever solve the mystery.

The group has spanned out. There are more people and places to go. This leads others to ask, "what is this a popularity contest". From my point of view it is, and you're losing.

This brings us to the questionable couple. A man was trying to blend in the group. It doesn't seem to be going well until he found this lady. He now drives her vehicles. He sold his beater car. Showing up in her "political" truck seems to have caught eyes. Her outgoing personality and costumes, seem to be a friendly invite. This man walks around with a chip on his shoulder. "Big feeling" is a term used to describe them. While I'm undecided on her, trash would be a good way to describe him. It is her vehicles, house party, money, personality, that attracted people. I think This woman's going to end up very disappointed. He is pretending to be a lot of things he isn't.

[signalwatch]

Santor Watch: The Key To Christmas (2020)

Approx. 100x more effort was put into this poster than the movie

Watched:  11/27/2022

Format:  Amazon Watch Party

Viewing:  First

Director, Writer, Camera, Editor, Catering, Accountant, Set Decoration:  Jason Mills

Some pals seem to take exception to my practice of watching bad movies, riffing them, commenting upon them, etc...  The argument goes "someone tried, and it's not cool to make fun of them for trying".  To that I say:  if trying is your criteria, I welcome you to watch The Key to Christmas (2020).  Because that @#$% ain't happening here.

Look, I don't understand the market for ultra-cheap holiday movies.  There can't be that many Me and Doug's out there constantly looking for ways to torture each other with the worst in absolute garbage media.  Someone is out there buying the rights to these movies to distribute them with the idea that enough people will watch them that these movies will make money somehow.  I don't get the model.  I have to assume it's money laundering, tax fraud or something.  

The wildest part is that you get "movie" after "movie" like this, where it's clear there's no consideration of the basic building blocks of technique, artistry or craftsmanship.  It's someone with time, enough money to get a squad of people together for enough days to film something that runs 80 minutes, and - sometimes - a script.  But barely that.  And there's so, so much of it.

The Key to Christmas (2020) almost isn't worth discussing because it's just a list of complaints.  "Filmed" in Vancouver, the basic idea is that Santa (a) leaves a "key" at some teen girls' house that is absolutely essential to his operation and in no way needs to be on the sleigh with him (b) time has no meaning at the North Pole except when it does - so Santa has time to return to the North Pole and really yell at an elf before demoting her to stable-cleaning duties because of a few sloppy mistakes.*  (c) the incompetent elf rises up and overthrows Santa with barely any effort and no one stops her.  Santa - who has fucked off during the middle of present delivery on Christmas Eve to go take a vacation at an AirBnB in suburban Vancouver.  

The elf who gives no @#$%'s uses a spare copy of the magic key (sure, why not?) to keep Santa stuck in his Air BnB somehow, and start de-aging him.  

Mrs. Claus is thrown in Candy Cane Jail where she languishes for a calendar year while Santa apparently lives in a house with no job, only his Santa Suit to wear, and his only goal to be get his key back from the 13 year old he left his key with.  And he tries a single time to get the key in that year, even as he may be dying and his wife is unjustly imprisoned and the elves do jack and shit to stop the equivalent of a 16 year old girl (who is maybe 5'1") and her dullard pal.  Santa famously breaks and enters millions of times every year, so that seems like it's not an issue.  And he could walk to the North Pole from Vancouver in a matter of weeks one assumes.  So maybe he just doesn't care.  The filmmakers don't.

The entire film looks and feels like something you'd expect of someone goofing making a home movie.  Aesthetically, the only worse movies I can point to immediately are Santa's Summer House which featured whole scenes shot from a chair up at actors with a handicam and Rollergator, which is its own thing.  Doug pointed out pretty early on that the depiction of the North Pole is entirely close-ups because they have no real North Pole set.  There's a few flourishes, but they're literally working against bare white walls - so the decision was made to shoot everything in extreme close-up.  Using glaring lighting that I assume is just the florescent overheads.  And, look, Mrs. Claus is perfectly lovely, but they don't even powder her make-up, so she constantly looks shiny.  In constant, unrelenting close-up.  It's all just lazy and cheap and weird.  

Like, look, nothing in this movie makes any sense.  Because no one is trying.  And it's entirely on whoever watches these movies - who you assume will be children abandoned by their parents with a TV and a Hot Pocket - for the movie existing.  It's weird anti-art.  A guy with some consumer grade production hardware and an Adobe Creative Cloud license did a thing, and now it exists.  I feel bad for the audience, but I also feel bad for talent who anyone actually trying to act who thought this was a real opportunity.  

This also seems to have been shot during quarantine, so there are a lot of questions about the wisdom of the filmmakers that kind of answer themselves.  I get that I didn't have to watch this - we did this to ourselves.  What I don't get is how one just decides *trying* is asking simply too much.

Again, seriously, if anyone out there understands how this economy works, I'd love to know.  And if this is a reel for the writer/ director/ producer, what is the endgame here?  And can I make a suggestion?Here's a good read.  And if that's too fancy.  

https://ift.tt/uqOK1EZ

from The Signal Watch https://ift.tt/tnID8bM

[yaatrickyassification]

[Pt.2]

Their reaction to you wearing a suit.

[ Riddle, Trey, Cater x gn! reader ]

I.

With the Ramshackle dorm prefect's birthday coming soon, Vil has been busy preparing the outfit you will wear. The pomefiore trio was cooped up in Vil's room with a mannequin at the center of it all, Vil's beautiful figure fumbled around trying to find the right fabric to use and the measurement. "Roi du poison, have you already eaten? you've been at it since yesterday. Quite frankly, I'm worried." Vil turns to look at Rook, "I might be busy, but that doesn't stop me from caring for myself. I need to hold a beautiful appearance no matter the time of day." His eyes wandered over to Epel's slouch figure, his head lolling to the side as his eyes closed from sleepiness. "Epel!"

Epel's small figure went straight up, his eyes looking at Vil and the mannequin beside him. "Why don't we just give it a boom shaka-laka?" Vil huffs, while Rook seems to consider it. "I don't understand what you mean by that boom shaka-laka that you just said, but this birthday party needs to be perfect."

"I meant like giving it a little twist." Rook raises his brows, intrigued at Epel's suggestion. "Twist?" Vil asks, his voice stern warning Epel to not do anything troublesome, Epel let out a mischievous laugh as he stands up from his wooden seat, "Leave it to me, dorm leader!" His small figure immediately takes the mannequin from Vil's hand and brings it to his room.

Once out of the room, Epel took out his phone and sent a message to the other first years. "Time for some first-year backup."

II.

Riddle Rosehearts:

At first, he thought that the first years would do bad or even fail miserably, so this is what Ace said when he should expect something more, he thought, Riddle's small figure can't seem to look you in the eyes. His feet thumping wildly at the ground while his gray orbs stayed lowered, "Is something wrong?" Your figure slightly bends to match Riddle's height, his ears picking up your complaints of the suit being stuffy, with your hands lowering the tie to make space for breathing, your face close to his, his breath hitch.

He can see your chest from where he stood, his face turning red as he quickly stutters out his greetings. "H-happy birthday!" His small fingers shove the gift he wraps in his signature red heart as he quickly dashes out of the vicinity, you stood there dumbfounded, "Did I do something wrong?"

Trey Clover:

He was flustered, this was his first time seeing you in a suit so it was a new experience for him. He coughs in his hand trying to hide the red dusting his cheeks, the cream that was splattered all over you seems to give your figure a revealing glow, seeing the cream all over your suit you decided to take your coat off, Trey's eyes widen as you took off the black coat that you were wearing with the suit.

The white blouse you wore was now damp due to the cream thrown at you before, now fully revealing your skin from beneath. He jumps at the sight, immediately taking off the coat that was hanging on his shoulder and throwing it at your front, confused as you look at him. "Oh, great sevens have mercy."

"What?"

Cater Diamond:

The man was fawning all over you and would take a picture with you from every angle. He smiled as he finish posting another set of pictures taken with you, "And posted, #happy birthday, #[y/n]suitup, #credits to the first years, let's take a picture of you again!" You laugh at Cater's excited voice as you nodded your head at him, "Sure, I've been wanting to try this pose that I saw in a magazine." Cater claps his hand excitedly, bringing out his phone from his pocket and angling the camera to his face.

"Look at the camera!" Readying your pose, you bit on the glove, portraying it to look like you were gonna take it off using your teeth. Your eyes slanted as you look at the camera with an aloof expression, Cater's face turns red, his fingers doing quick work to immediately click on the button to take a pic of it, his eyes look at your picture with stars in his orbs, "How did it turn out?" He smiled mischievously before pocketing his phone away from your reach, "Hehehe, it's for me to see only."

[queen-pudi]

Good Boy

Shang Chi x Reader

18+ Minors DNI

TW: bondage, gagging, both of em are switches, edging, I believe gender neutral reader but correct me if wrong. tell me if I miss something please.

Masterlist

⚠️NO SPOILERS IN HERE I SWEAR⚠️

Shang Chi's whimpers rung out throughout the room. Even with the little rolled up sock in his mouth his cries and pleads could be heard. Tears weeling up in his eyes as he looks at you grinding down on him. Every so often licking a strip from his pecs up to his the bottom of his ear, whispering about how good he looks and how he is being such a good boy

Thats all he wants to be for you, a good boy. He always wishes to please you both in and out of the bedroom. Catering to your every desire. Sometimes you wonder how you could ever get such an amazing man like him. So strong, so brave, so obedient.

Shang Chi looked up at you, eyes begging for permission to touch, grope, thrust, anything besides lay there and be used like a toy. You started down at him all tied up and panting, both knowing he could get out if he wanted but refusing to as he wishes to get his reward. He would never make a move without your permission. Even if you left him here to fend for himself hed still sit there and take it with no complaint. You laughed at how pathetic and fucked out he looked, you almost felt bad. Almost.

You continued to bounce yourself on him, edging him everytime he gets remotely close to coming undone waiting for him to break. Finally you reach your high and ride yourself through it. You untie him and take the sock out of his mouth, placing a long kiss on his lips to convey your love and admiration for him. You both know its a kiss of reassurance that you didn't go too far and loves it.

"You did so good for me baby, I think its time for you to have some fun of your own" you said, eyes raking over his sweat covered body, hands slowly treking down his body and tracing every little curve of his stomach.

Those words were all the permission he needed as he removed your hands and flipped you around on all fours. Taking the rope that once previously binded him, He tied your legs to the end of the bed and then tied your arms together behind your back so you couldn't move.

Aligning himself with your awaiting hole he leaned down to your ear, his hot breath fanning the side of your face.

"As much as I love being used by you, I think I like using you more my love" he growled in your ear, and at that very moment he surged in and wasted no time to get to a maddening pace leaving you breathless and almost sorry for teasing him earlier.

While he loved to obey you sometimes he just loved to being the one making the rules and watching as you broke down with each one

Hi! I hope you liked this! The second I saw Shang Chi on the big screen I fell in love and I'm honestly about to go see it again it was so good. If you had any feedback let me know! I'm open to requests if you really want but I'm not an actual like writer writer so you have been warned. Have a great day if you read this and drop a like or comment if you want!

[yinses]

types of kisses

| jjk edition |

GOJO SATORU  — you’ve had a bad day- make that a terrible week. nothing was going right yet the tasks just build on top of one another and gave you no opportunity to bounce back. when he finds you, you’re barely holding on, just pin drop away from shattering. gojo is as busy as you are, if not more so with the council on his back about his new student. so you bite your lip and bare a grin. a shower should help ease away the worst of it and then you can try to tackle another day. but before you can turn away, he’s tugging you firmly against his chest. you don’t realize the waterworks have started until his thumbs are swiping against your face to rid the tears. his palms slide down to cup your cheeks, squeezing them in until your lips purse at the attention. “why don’t i kiss it better, hmm?” he doesn’t wait for an answer, already leaning in. he knows what you need. always does.  

ITADORI YUJI  —for a second he thinks he may have taken it a step too far. the two of you had been play wrestling for the better part of five minutes, nearly toppling each other over the edge of the couch. all over next choice in movies. yuji thought he had better reins on his strength but watching you gasp with a winded expression caused a chill of dread crawl down his spine. “i’m so sorry i didn’t mean-” he sees it coming, but the shock of potentially hurting you delayed his response as you sprung into action. a soft oof leaves him as you pin him to the cushions, fingers trailing up and down his sides until the frown breaks with laughter. you don’t stop until the worry lines fade away. yuji is breathless as he speaks, cheeks flush and heart beating a rapid staccato. ”so i didn’t hurt you?” your mouth hovers over his, leaving the faintest of kisses as you speak. “you could never hurt me.”

NANAMI KENTO  — he’s wearing the tie you got him, and you can’t resist. it was the exact fantasy you’d played out in your head when you first caught a glimpse of it in the store. now here you sit astride his lap, the same strip of fabric twisted around your fist as you pull him close. “sometimes its not fair,” you breath, lips running a sinful trail from his jawline to cheek and back again. nanami twitches beneath you, hands hovering between your highs and thighs with uncertainty. “what isn’t?” he voice is soft when he asks, as if simply imploring could solve all your problems. satisfy the lust burning within you. with a sharp tug you pull his mouth to meet yours, tongue slipping through his pliant lips to mingle with his. you’d show him just wasn’t fair about how handsome he was.

MEGUMI FUSHIGURO  — he’s always the last to budge in the morning, keeping a firm grip on the sheets and a tighter on his dreams. after learning to sleep alongside one another, simply shifting as you rise no longer disrupts him. so you have to take an extra step. the first peck causes him to groan. the next he tries to bury his face into the pillow and grumbles when you laugh in his ear. you’re just finding that special spot at the nape of his neck when you’re suddenly swept under the blanket and met with a sleepy glare. “five minutes … you can’t give me just that?” in response you snuggle closer and peck him quickly on the lips. “how about five more kisses?” he begrudgingly accepts the trade, plus a few more.

SUKUNA RYOMEN  — he needs you to be quiet or he’s going to have to stop. maybe its because you both know its a lie that you don’t try to hold back the whimpers bubbling up from your lips. he loved the sounds you made. but he would rather lose that than the feeling of you tightening around him, hips bucking back for more, if you got caught. so he covers your mouth harshly with his own, teeth nipping at your tongue in reprimand. it has the exact opposite effect as you practically vibrate around him, toes curling into the mattress as you garble out pleas. of what he doesn’t know, but he’s done catering to the needs of others. they would just have to file a noise complaint. he’d take you however he damn well pleased.

[xpeachesncream]

bands | five

[ series masterlist ]

summary: jeon jungkook has it all: the looks, the fame, the money, the women. being considered the sexiest man in the industry, he finds no complaints about the way his life is going nor does he find any reason to apologize for the way he approaches it. he is a force to be reckoned with - until he meets you.

pairing: stripper!reader x idol!jjk

genre: (18+) strip club/nightlife au, post grad au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 3.2k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, implied nudity/nudity (at the nightclub), teasing, sprinkle of breast touching, alcohol consumption, pole dancing, straddling/lap dances, slight degradation/implied degradation, rough handling, flashback scene

note: took a stab at this jungkook one shot + wips are updated!

tags: @brightcolorsoffendme @min-nicoleee @eggbutnotyolk @ra-mun-e @miinoongi@ephemeralkookie @ppeachyttae @thebeebi @bluesharksandfish @kooafraid @liriaus​ @thisartemisnevermisses​ @ggukkieland​ @preciouschimine​ @sunniejinnie​ (please message me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

'Do better' is exactly what Jungkook does, because he wants you, and he wants you bad. He thought he had you wrapped around his finger, when in fact, you had him wrapped around yours and he was crumbling by the minute. It's a little entertaining to you, seeing his name pop on your phone throughout the day with texts like:

[jungkook]: have a good day today, pretty lady.

[jungkook]: :)

[jungkook]: can't stop thinking about you and how good you looked last night.

[jungkook]: hope you aren't overworking yourself.

[jungkook]: can i call you tonight?

You would chuckle every single time, seeing him weak for you. You weren't gonna lie - you were fucking weak for him too, cause lord, who wouldn't be with Jungkook? The only difference is that you were just the stronger one between the both of you.

Ha, ain't shit but a hairflip. You for sure got this from your mama.

"To the club for Yoongi hyung's birthday!" Taehyung yells after they finish rehearsals for the next set of performances scheduled to happen in the next week and filming some content for Youtube.

"To the club-club!" Namjoon responds, throwing his hat back on.

"Excited to see some pretty girls shaking their ass and titties in my face." Yoongi lets out a cocky laugh.

"No private show?"

"No, hell no. I want 'em all." Yoongi smirks. "Jungkookie is the only one who loves his private shows."

"Yeah, yeah." Jungkook brushes it off with a chuckle.

"Are we finally gonna figure out who she is tonight?"

"Nope. She's not working tonight. Good try." He feels relieved saying that because to be honest, he's feeling completely and utterly selfish with you. He didn't wanna share, not with the guys. Hell no.

Except he's gonna have to tonight and he has yet to learn that.

» FLASHBACK

Jimin had just solidified the plans with Yoongi a couple of hours ago, learning that he wanted to head to the strip club for his birthday. And yeah, everyone has their own favorites. Everyone has their own agenda coming to the club. But, Yoongi says he wants to shut down the club for the evening so all 7 of them can enjoy the general floor together.

So, Jimin makes it a goal to grant Yoongi's wishes, but he also has another thing on his mind.

He had been picking up on Jungkook's little habits lately, even though he was notorious for always being on his phone and for barely paying attention to the environment around him. Jimin just knew he had it bad for you, miss new girl, simply by how his mood would change whenever he looked at his phone. How he was always at the club. How he always got shy and beat around the bush whenever you were brought up.

He just knew.

And to be honest, he was concerned. Moreso for Jungkook and his safety. Jungkook and his feelings. Things didn't sit right for him, and he worried that you were only out for his money. For his fame. For the attention. For all the wrong things. And he didn't like that shit one bit. He wasn't gonna let anyone take advantage of his little brother like that, he wouldn't give anybody the chance.

He wants to figure out who exactly you were. He wants to find out what you're all about. He wants to finally meet you face to face.

"Mr. Park Jimin!" Mr. Bigs says with a loud laugh. Jimin gives him a small smile as he tugs the brim of his hat down and approaches him. "How can I help you?"

"Yoongi's birthday is coming up at the end of the week, is it possible to shut the club down so the rest of the guys can enjoy the general stage together?" He pulls out an envelope and hands it to Mr.Bigs, his smile getting bigger the more he counts all the dollar bills inside.

"Whatever works for my boys." He laughs.

"Thanks." Jimin chuckles. "Uh, one more thing - if it's not too much of a bother, could I request a specific dancer to be out on the floor that night?"

"Yeah, of course you can. Who's the lady we're thinking of?"

"Whoever Jungkook's lady is." Mr. Bigs laughs so more and nods.

"Ah, I'm assuming he wants her there, huh? He really loves watching that young lady, but hey, whatever works and makes ya'll happy right?"

"Yeah, I suppose he does. I'd like to keep the request between us though." Jimin lies.

"Don't you worry about it. I'll make sure Phoenix is there that night. I'll have all of this covered so Mr. Min Yoongi has a fantastic birthday." He winks.

"Thanks, sir. We'll see you then." Jimin nods his head before heading out. Mr. Bigs waits until Jimin is out the door before pulling out his phone to give you a call.

"Hello?"

"You need to be here Friday, special request."

"From who? Can't I just take the—"

"Stop questioning me little girl, you hear me? Your ass better be here on Friday or else I'm taking a chunk out of your fucking tips and check." He abruptly ends the call.

» END FLASHBACK

And so the infamous Bangtan Sonyeondan boys are dressed, whipping out their cleanest, black attires from their closets. They take a couple of shots back to back before they're loading into their cars to be driven to the strip club. The club is empty, except for a few body guards, bar staff and the dancers.

"Oh shit, we get our own private show? Like actually?" Yoongi says, stepping into the empty club that was more than ready for the boys' arrival. There were topless dancers waiting alongside the stage with trays filled with different drinks and shots.

"Happy birthday, hyung." Jimin says, playfully massaging his shoulder.

"God, this is such a good way to end the day." Namjoon takes a shot from one of the beautiful ladies near the general stage. He smirks at her as he eyes her up and down, licking his lips when he realizes how fucking skimpy the bikini bottom she has on actually is. "Sheesh."

"Boys!" Mr. Bigs' deep voice comes from the other end of the club as he approaches them. "Please, enjoy and help yourself to whatever you like. Happy Birthday, Mr. Min Yoongi." He winks.

"Thank you, sir!" Yoongi yells as he grabs another shot from the tray. The rest of the boys follow suit, taking more drinks and eyeing the ladies around them, but Jungkook helps himself to a seat in the front of the general stage.

"Someone misses his private lady." Hobi jokes, causing him to shake his head.

"Whatever, as long as I don't have to share her with you guys." He spits out. "What's yours is mine and what's mine is mine." Jungkook finishes jokingly with his infamous line. It seems like a full house of dancers tonight, either on the sidelines or now entering the general stage. Jungkook rests his foot on his knee, ready to get the night started so he can enjoy, but also hurry on home afterwards to try and hear your voice.

But you were in the back room of the club.

No one really knew what was going on outside unless you had been outside already. Mr. Bigs gave you all a pep talk saying each and every single one of you needed to be on your best behavior, especially out on the floor. Bigs and his men refused to name the special guests just so none of you would psych yourselves out and mess up. You didn't know you were soon going to be catering to the BTS boys together, and Jungkook didn't know you were going to be one of the main dancers on stage either. His eyes were glazing over the rest of the girls on stage because they weren't you, to be honest. I mean, hell. It's always nice to be around topless, beautiful women. But he had gotten so used to seeing you. Your face. Your body. Touching you. Smelling your strawberry scent.

Jimin situates himself next to Jungkook, the rest of the group aligning themselves along the seats in front of the stage. He eyes Jungkook, taking note of how uninterested and bored he was - so bored that he even caught him trying to hide his yawn. Maybe he was just tired, as with everyone else, but that just meant his special lady friend wasn't out yet.

"You three, up. Now." Bigs says, coming into the backroom from the floor, pointing his finger towards the curtains. "Phoenix, remember. Don't throw no stupid ass attitude out there, playing hard to get like you're some kind of queen." He scoffs in disgust before dismissing the three of you. You roll your eyes, already highly irritated being there since it was originally your day off and no one wanted to give you answers as to why you needed to be there. Mr. Bigs had almost all the dancers out here to tonight, why the fuck would he need you?

The lights are off for a quick second before they dimly shine onto the stage, the music playing loudly in the background. You step onto the stage, your eyes instantly landing on the man front and center.

Jungkook.

You swallow the lump in your throat seeing the rest of the boy band around him, already smirking and licking their lips at the sight of you and the two other dancers on the stage. Jungkook adjusts himself in his seat, fixing his jacket as he sits upright to lean forward onto his knees. His eyes are glued onto you, almost like he's confused as to why you're here right now.

Why you're giving him and his boys a show.

Jimin catches Jungkook's slight uneasiness, his gaze following Jungkook's onto the stage. His eyes were set on you, the pretty lady swirling her body around the silver pole in the middle of the stage.

"She's fucking beautiful." Yoongi says, immediately getting up and reaching into the inner breast pocket of his jacket to pull out some bills. He stands in the front, almost blocking Jungkook's view of you. He catches Yoongi placing a couple of hundreds under the bottom portion of your fishnet bodysuit. The bodysuit that captured your curves so perfectly - thighs thick and full, ass cheeks popping out of the thong portion, your titties and pussy very visible through the fishnet material. God, you were a fucking beauty. Jungkook watches as you squat in front of Yoongi, bouncing up and down before you get up scandalously and shake your ass in front of his eyes. "Ohhhh shit." Yoongi bites onto his bottom lip as he laughs and tucks more bills near your thigh.

"It's his birthday!" Hobi yells, causing you to smirk at Yoongi and grab his hand to let him feel up on your breast. Jungkook shifts in his seat, a little envious of how Yoongi was able to touch you in that way before he was able to. Like fuck? Could it be my birthday too? Could it be my birthday everyday? He was never gonna let this one go. He continues to watch as you push Yoongi back onto his chair and give him a birthday lapdance.

"Happy birthday." You say softly in his ear before getting back up on the stage to do some tricks on the pole.

One, two: Turn upside down.

Three, four: Wrap them legs around.

Five, six: Treat the pole like a slip and slide.

Seven, eight: Flip back up and slide back down.

"Damn, it's my birthday over here too." Jin says tapping his lap and tossing a roll of bills near you before looking over at Taehyung. He's also throwing bills onto the stage, but he's focused on the other main lady off to the side. Still doesn't mean he isn't throwing bills your way either, cause he is every chance he gets to look over at you.

"Like what you see?" Jimin jokes with Jungkook.

"Yeah." Is all he says as he's approaching you. He gives you this look, which you don't understand what it means, but you didn't have the time to decipher it right at this moment. You watch Jungkook closely, his mouth pressed tightly together as his eyes are still scanning your entire body before he brings them back up to meet your eyes. You crawl towards him seductively, your fingers lightly brushing down his neck before you gently tug on his jacket. He doesn't say anything as he tucks bills near your titties, giving you one last look before sitting back down in his seat.

The main show comes to an end pretty quickly afterwards, other dancers making their way to the poles if they wanted or kept serving the boys whatever they needed. You hop off the stage, collecting your bills and folding them tightly together, tucking it deep on the side of your breast to keep it hidden. You head outside to get some air because what the fuck just even happened? You weren't expecting that whatsoever, even though you knew better than that. You should have always thought there would be a chance you'd have to do what you just did. You should have always been prepared.

"Lil mama, you looked good dancing up there in that tiny ass suit you got on." One of the men in Bigs' crew said as they lingered outside the backroom door, smoking cigarettes. "What do you say? Wanna come home with me so I can help get that off?" He smirks, approaching you.

"I'm only out here to get some air, please don't come up to me with all that bullshit." You spit out, causing the guy to furrow his brows at you.

"This one's got a little fire in her." He laughs, coming closer to you. "Whatchu gonna do if I don't take no for an answer, miss thang?" He grips your wrist tightly. You try to break free, but after tonight, you were too fucking tired to even deal with his stupid shit. "Oh, she's weak now?" He grips tighter, making you wince as you try to pry him off. He brings you closer, his face inches away from yours - so close you can smell the smoke and alcohol mixed together, coming off of his breath. Suddenly, you hear someone clear their throat behind them, their attention going from you to the individual. "Oh shit, it's Jeon Jungkook." You watch as the man lets you go, Jungkook standing there with his hands in his pockets and jaw clenched. He doesn't say anything besides nod to acknowledge them. "Big fan, dude."

"The fuck? I had my private show scheduled with Phoenix almost 10 minutes ago. You guys have been holding her up?" Jungkook is obviously throwing on an angry act because you didn't have any private shows booked tonight.

"Shit, my bad. I didn't know—"

"You didn't know cause you were too busy being a jackass?"

"Mr. Jeon, no disrespect here. I'm sorry I took time away from your show. Please, take whatever time you need with her - on me." He says, his friends silently standing by as they throw their cigarettes and go back inside.

"Yeah, it should be on you for fucking wasting my time." Jungkook doesn't say anything else, but he does glare at him until he's almost tripping over himself making his way back inside the club. "You okay?" Jungkook asks, coming closer.

"Yeah. Thanks." You rub your hand up and down your arm, the cold air nipping at your skin.

"I thought you said you weren't working tonight."

"I wasn't supposed to. Bigs just told me I was requested to be here tonight." You raise your eyebrow. "Wait, how did you not know? I thought it was—"

"You thought it was me that requested for you?" He chuckles. "Funny that you think I'd share you with the guys."

"Sooo?"

"I don't know." He shrugs. "Maybe he just wanted his best dancers to be here."

"Hm." You slightly smirk at the compliment. "Best dancers, huh?" He rolls his eyes and playfully sighs.

"Yeah, don't milk it." A small smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

"You gonna be here all night?"

"Possibly since it's Yoongi's birthday." You nod. He stays silent as he looks at you for a bit, his head slightly cocked to the side.

"So does he get a pass for tonight?" Jungkook chuckles and shakes his head.

"Only cause it's his birthday."

"Mm, not even because he's your senior or anything of the sort?"

"Nah." He smiles a bit. "Not at all. I hope you know I'll never forget it."

"Please, I didn't know Jeon Jungkook was a drama actor, too. What can't he do?" You sarcastically say.

"Okay, say whatever you want." He kicks the dust below his shoes as he lightly chuckles with you. It's silent again, but it's a calming silence. There's no awkward vibes or anything of that matter. You begin to rub your arms again, the cold nipping at your skin harshly. "You should get back inside, it's freezing." He watches you shiver in front of him. He isn't sure if he should hand you his jacket, even if he does want to help you out in the slightest bit, but he figures he shouldn't since you still needed to finish your shift.

"Okay." Your expression softens. "See you in there?" He silently nods, watching your hips sway back and forth until you're deeper in the club. The night doesn't end for everyone until a little bit past 2, close to 3am. You're hauling your tired ass back home, Kai struggling and barely making it alive as soon as you walk through your front door.

"Jesus fuck, thank god." He shuts the TV off and covers his entire body with the blankets.

"Kai, I told you that you didn't have to wait."

"Well until you're out of the club, this is my life now." Why was everyone so dramatic tonight? You chuckle to yourself.

"Okay, if you say so. Night bubba."

"Night." He yawns. In about 2 seconds, he's back to snoring loudly, causing you to laugh to yourself as you get ready for bed.

[jungkook] 3:14am: home?

[y/n] 3:17am: yes. you?

Maybe Kai didn't have to stay up for you after all.

[jungkook] 3:23am: yeah.

[jungkook] 3:24am: i'm assuming you had a really long day today so sleep well, Y/N. can i call you tomorow?

[y/n] 3:20am: you can, i don't know if i'll answer though. :) goodnight jungkook.

And so Jungkook smiles to himself before grabbing a water and heading back to his dorm room. He was slowly getting used to your sarcasm and attitude, being that he has never had to deal with someone being this way towards him. It was fun, and new.

"So was your lady actually there tonight?" Taehyung asks with Jimin sitting next to him.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" Jungkook scrunches his nose before turning on his heel to walk away.

"Wow, Jungkookie is being selfish. Namjoon hyung go scold him." Namjoon laughs.

"Jungkookie don't be selfish." Joon says nonchalantly just to keep Taehyung happy.

"Yeah, yeah." He shuts himself in his room to get ready for bed. Jimin silently sits next to Taehyung as they relive the night's events before going to bed. He had seen you and Jungkook talking outside, which only solidifies his assumption.

And he was onto you.

i'm good on that pussy shit; i don't want what i can get, i want someone with secrets that nobody, nobody, nobody knows

track six: gangsta - kehlani

[strawwritesfic]

Loki Laufeyson x Female!Midgardian!Reader: A Bird in the Hand

Summary: …is surely not worth its asking price.

Rating/Warnings/Tags: All (some foul language; not Thor Ragnarok compliant)

Fic Trade Prompt: “Please, I don’t want to lose you, too.” 

A Bird in the Hand

Once upon a time in a realm known as Midgard, there lived a girl. This girl, of course, was you, and you lived as many young women at the time did during that Age of Miracles. None of these miracles ever happened to you. There were no fish oil transformations on your horizon, nor were there any divine calls to adventure. Just like all New Yorkers, you grew use to your daily commute being interrupted by superheroes, to calling insurance companies to argue over their decision to not pay for alien invasion damage to your apartment, and even to carrying an umbrella around with you even on the driest of days in case certain Asgardians decided to visit. Life went on. You had stopped looking for a real miracle years ago.

As well you should have, because there was nothing miraculous about your wedding day. Outside, a seemingly endless mass of dark gray clouds let loose bucket after bucket of rain. Thunder rolled across the sky; lightning flashed–and that, really, was all you could see through the window you had stationed yourself in front of to sulk. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have blamed the city’s resident thunder god for the disastrous timing of this storm front. As it was, all you could blame was your string of bad luck.

Speaking of bad luck, the door to your parlor snapped open and in stepped the dripping figure of your best friend. Aliyah paused only long enough to adjust her sodden pink hijab before plopping soggily onto an overstuffed loveseat.

“Well, the gazebo is flooded,” she announced, “the food is soaked through, and the caterer won’t bring more to replace it. Your flower arrangements are in pieces, and the band already ran off. I don’t think there’s anything left of your wedding ceremony.”

You did not bother to leave the window, though you did turn just far enough to throw her a sour look. “Do you have any good news to impart?” you asked.

Aliyah grinned. “Your maid of honor hasn’t walked out yet. At least there will be one person here to witness this fiasco.”

“Gonna need a groom for anything to be witnessed.”

Most close friends would offer sympathy when their friend’s fiancé of a year and a half decided to just not show up for the actual wedding. Most acquaintances would feel bad enough when the carefully planned event got rained out. Not your Aliyah. She simply let out a sharp breath and leaned her head back against the couch cushion.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said.

You glared at her, which of course she didn’t see, having shut her eyes to listen to the water tumble from the roof to the street outside.

“Thank you. So much,” you said.

“What?” she asked, forcing her eyes open again. “I told you Jared wasn’t good enough for you. Besides, you should keep all the gifts even if he doesn’t stop by. I saw, like, nine blenders in that pile. You’re better off this way, if you ask me.”

“You’re just saying that because you want a free blender,” you said.

“I wouldn’t say no. But, really, you should count your lucky stars. Free stuff and free of your jackass boyfriend. What better start to a weekend?”

“I’d rather be married to my jackass boyfriend.”

Aliyah’s disdain for Jared was nothing new or surprising. He’d fallen from grace in her eyes when he’d got jealous over your fondness for an injured pigeon you’d rescued only a few months after you started dating Jared. Even releasing the bird hadn’t entirely put an end to his complaints about how you spent your free time. On the other hand, you knew one thing that neither Aliyah nor Jared did: Jared’s jealousy wasn’t entirely misplaced.

But that was years ago. This was now. And that bird had always been bad news.

“Are you going to cry about it?” Aliyah asked, peering over at your perch by the parlor’s bay window. “Because, if not, I’d hate to have dragged Habib all the way to America for nothing.”

At the mention of her long-distance boyfriend, you motioned for Aliyah to go on. You preferred to do your moping alone, and Aliyah knew it. She stood and crossed the room to give you a quick hug before she left without another word. Probably you did owe your maid of honor at a least a blender for all the trouble she’d been through on your behalf.

Sighing, you lifted one hand, dug your fingers into your hair, and tore out what was holding it in its elaborate design. Who cared what you looked like now? Even if stupid Jared had shown up, the storm would have ruined your appearance before you made it down the aisle. Now Aliyah had free rein to spend the rest of her afternoon cuddling with Habib, and you had no one else to bother looking pretty for.

Outside your empty room, you could hear the indistinct muttering of your remaining guests. Family, mostly, who had already given up trying to convince you to let them in. What the rest of them were waiting for before they left, you couldn’t guess. Perhaps for you to come out and make an official announcement: The wedding has been called off. Party’s over. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here. And thanks for all the blenders.

The shame of your situation suddenly threatened to crash down upon you. It would have, if you had remained sitting where you were. Instead, you got up, white dress rustling as you stalked across the room. A quiet shriek of rage was stifled only by your gloved hand pressed to your colored lips. Of all the pathetic, idiotic, insane things you had done in your life! Now you didn’t even have the courage to face your friends and family with the truth.

“Tap. Tap. Tap.”

Hail began to hit the glass behind you, soft and hesitant. Since you had no plans to leave the building any time soon, you ignored this weather development.

Jared hadn’t even called to say he’d changed his mind. You should have known when he hadn’t come home after his stag party the night before. He was probably laughing it up over your stupidity with some blonde bikini babe by the beach that you were supposed to go to for your honeymoon. The thought caused you to kick out angrily at the coffee table, and you heard a quiet rip issue from your skirt in response when it caught on a corner.

You swore.

”Tap. Tap. Tap.”

Now that you thought about it, the sound wasn’t regular enough to be hail. It wasn’t very hesitant anymore either. Still, you ignored the noise as you yanked off your veil, your gloves, and your garter. You were mentally preparing to rip them all to shreds with your fingernails when you heard it again:

“Tap. Tap. Tap.”

That time you did not suppress your shriek. As it faded into the overstuffed furniture surrounding you, you marched over to the window and shoved it open. The wind whistled through the empty space, sending anything in the room not tied down into the air and splattering your face with water. If ever there was a time to reasonably expect an Asgardian thunder god to step inside, it was then. No one was there, though, save for a single bedraggled pigeon.

“Oh, hello,” you said when it hopped onto the sill, and automatically you held out your cupped hands toward it.

The poor thing shivered once, then stepped onto your warm palms. Only when it looked up into your face did you see that it had bright green, very un-pigeon-ish eyes.

Before you could stuff the bird back outside, it lifted itself into the air to half-flutter, half-fly over to the loveseat Aliyah had been sitting on. A flash of light that had nothing to do with the lightning outside filled the room. When you had blinked and cleared your vision enough that you could see again, the pigeon was gone, and in its place reclined a tall, dark-haired, beautiful man, dressed to the nines in Asgardian fashion.

“Hello, darling,” said Loki Laufeyson. “Don’t you look ravishing?”

You were too shocked to contradict him. No mention of your torn dress, mussed hair, or smeared makeup escaped your lips. Instead, you said the only thing you could in that sort of situation: “What are you doing here?”

“Why, I’m here to offer you my congratulations, of course,” he answered, examining one perfectly manicured nail. “Or should it be my condolences?”

“Really?” Your tone dripped with enough sarcasm that it could be heard over the protesting window as you forced it shut. “You disappear for two years, never write, never visit, and then you just happen to pop by to celebrate my wedding to another man?”

“What kind of secret lover would I be if I did not?”

“We are not secret lovers.”

“Well, no, we haven’t been for quite some time. I see no reason why that should stop us from picking up right where we left off, however.”

“We were never secret lovers.”

“Really?” he said, mocking the tone of your earlier question. “That’s not what it seemed like to me. Of course, I had the brain of a pigeon most of the time, but at night when your beau had to work and leave you so very alone–”

“You can’t just show up out of the blue and expect me to want you again,” you interrupted. “And on my wedding day to boot.”

To his credit, Loki looked genuinely confused by your behavior–like he’d expected you to jump straight into his arms, marriage or no. Obviously, they did things differently in Asgard. You were not Asgardian.

“Fine,” he said. “If that’s the way you want it. I was only trying to thank you for helping me, you know.”

“All I did was take in a pigeon that got injured when Thor threw a bunch of peanuts at a flock. It didn’t really deserve that sort of thanking.”

“Ah, but you enjoyed it anyway.” That wasn’t the point. He knew it wasn’t the point just as well as you did, because once he made it, he got fluidly up to his feet to and walked over to stand in front of you. “If you are that disinclined to see me, I suppose I had better get going. If you ever grow tired of being lonely again–oh, that’s right. You don’t know how to contact me.”

You opened your mouth to remind Loki that you didn’t want to contact him, but then something about Loki’s words rang strange.

“Alone?” you echoed.

“Yes, alone. Or do you expect your Prince Charming to come riding up on a horse of white any second now? Better late than never?”

Without thinking, without warning, you slapped him straight across the face.

“Ow!” he snapped, pressing one of his hands to the mark on his face. “What was that for?”

“What did you do?” You lifted your hand for another blow. “What did you do to Jared?”

“Me? Do something to Jared? What should I have to do with that ponderous ass?”

“Did you kill him, Loki?” you asked, voice quavering. Loki could do it. Easily. He was a god, and Jared just…well, just a ponderous ass.

Loki let out a single bark of laughter. “Oh, please. I just got out of Asgardian prison. As if I’d risk going back over the murder of a petty moral such as he.”

That brought you up short. Frowning, you deigned to look at him again. “Prison?”

“Yes, prison. Did you think my absence was due to taking a pleasure cruise?”

“I thought you’d escaped prison when I found you the first time.”

“But you sent me back to Asgard when I started causing trouble,“ he reminded you. "Odin does not forget his son’s crimes easily, nor is he inclined to forgive them. Luckily my brother is far easier to manipulate.”

He had not, you noticed, made any real move to leave. Loki still stood in front of you, looking down as the pink handprint faded from his cheek.

“So…you didn’t kill my fiancé?” you asked uncertainly.

He shook his head. “If he isn’t here, it is because he is a dunce, not because I tricked him in any way.”

“Oh.” All the problems of your appearance seemed at once apparent and embarrassing. To think that this man would see you in such a state, and only because he’d wanted to see you after his release from jail. “Why did you really come, then? Since you knew he wasn’t here. To gloat?”

“The thought did occur to me,” Loki confessed. “I am not often in the position of being the more desirable choice. But,” here his voice turned oddly sincere, “I actually came to ask you to come with me.”

Your mouth fell open. Some of Loki’s usual acerbic amusement returned as he watched you flounder; you could see the faint outlines of his familiar smirk at the corners of his mouth. Finally, you managed a short, “go with you where?”

He shrugged, and started to twist the curtain in between his long, pale fingers. “I don’t know, really.”

“You want me to go somewhere with you without anywhere in mind?”

“I thought we’d figure it out as we went along,” he said. “Travel the galaxies. I cannot return to Asgard and Midgard, of course, is out of the question so long as I do not rule it.”

“You want me to follow you into outerspace?”

Only his silence could tip you off that Loki was actually nervous. He clearly had no idea how you would respond to his suggestion–which was by falling into a nearby chair to gape at him.

“You want me to leave my family?” you asked.

“They live far away and hardly talk to you.”

“And my job?”

“That you’ve never liked. We’re both aware.”

“And my best friend?”

“She spends most of her time visiting mosques in India with her boyfriend,” Loki said with a dismissive flick of his hand. “Besides, there’s no rule to say we can’t come back to visit her every so often. I have no objection. She seems a sensible enough woman.”

“And you want me to leave them all,” you went on as though you couldn’t hear him, “for you, a man I haven’t seen in years because he was in prison.”

Once more, Loki said nothing. His green eyes peered into yours with unreadable depths, just as they had the unfortunate day you had returned home after to work to find your injured pigeon friend gone and a strange man eating all of the meat out of your fridge in its place. You could remember, too, the feel of that man’s skin against yours, the heat of his lips on your neck, the sound of his low voice in your ear–and Jared complaining, always complaining, about how much time you spent with that damn bird.

You buried your face in your hands. “I can’t do it, Loki. I can’t.”

You waited to hear him leave again, to hear the glass move and the rush of the storm and the flutter of wings. None came. All that did was one soft word:

“Please.”

“Huh?”

When you looked up, Loki was right above you. His hands gripped the chair arms at your sides with enough force to make them whiter than ever–but his eyes were not on yours anymore.

“Please,” he said, “I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Another move without thinking or warning: You gently touched his other cheek.

Loki’s eyes closed for a half second before he moved one hand to hold your wrist there. “I have already lost my father, my mother, my home. My own brother has thrust me unceremoniously from both realms I sought to rule. And then to hear that I would lose you, too, to an oaf like that Jared.”

No one could say that Loki losing all of this wasn’t entirely his fault. He had decided to lead an alien invasion into Earth, to try murdering several members of his mentioned family, and to seduce young Earth women under the guise of hurt animals. But part of Loki’s charm was that he never failed to make one doubt that he could be better, maybe, if you only let him try.

“I’m sorry,” you said sincerely. A sincere apology didn’t mean your mind was changed, however, and this, also, Loki knew.

“Do you want me to beg?” he asked. “I am no longer a stranger to begging.”

With that, Loki slid to the wooden floor before you. Stranger or no, it was positive it wasn’t a position he relished being in, what with how stiff his hands were around yours when he made to hold them. He swallowed, took a deep breath, and began:

“I know I am asking a lot. But I, too, have lost a family, a job, and my closest friends. I would not ask you to come with me if I did not intend on paying you pack ten times in kind. If you will allow me to take you with me, I know I can make you happier than you would be here. Together we will find some place to call our own, and you shall be my queen. So please,” he said, “please let me keep one last thing that I love. Don’t make me leave you behind, too.”

It wasn’t the prettiest speech you had ever heard come out of his mouth, but it was probably the most honest. You gave him a tiny smile as you squeezed his hands in return. “A queen, huh?”

Loki smirked. “Or a comfortable, quiet living, depending on what we find, and how thorough Thor is in seeking me out. At least we could be comfortable and quiet for a little while.”

“Can’t imagine that’s going to last long with you around.”

“With you around to look after me, though…”

That got you to laugh. “Oh, yes, I’m sure I’d do a wonderful job making sure you didn’t get into any trouble. I did such a good job before.”

Some of the color returned to Loki’s features. He was starting to hope. Against your better judgement, so were you. A couple of things, however, remained to bother you:

“What if you came here and Jared and I were married?” you asked.

“Then I would have had to resort to kidnapping.”

“And how did you even know I was getting married today to begin with?”

He smiled his Cheshire smile, and that was when you knew you were truly lost. “You really ought to stop talking to the birds on your fire escape. You never know which one would be willing to pass information off in exchange for a couple of peanuts.”

“Oh, and you stalk me. What part of this deal doesn’t sound good?”

“None of it, I should hope.” Standing, Loki kept one hand firmly around one of yours. “We should go, you realize. Unless you want to say your goodbyes?”

You thought of your parents blustering about how you dared to invite both of them to your wedding. You thought of the forlorn apartment you shared with a man that had never really loved you for you. You thought of Aliyah and her instance that Jared would never be good enough for you. You thought of the awkward explanation that would be expected as soon you set foot outside that door–and you grinned.

“Not a chance.”

“Then I believe,” he said, and abruptly pulled you into his arms in an obvious parody of carrying a bride before pushing the window open with his boot, “we have a few errands to go on before we get on our way.”

“Like what?”

“Unless you plan to live the rest of our lives with nothing but multiple blenders,” he began, but was not able to finish over your sudden laughter and the return of the torrent outside.

You latched your hands behind his neck as he dove back into the rain. There were stars somewhere above those clouds, and you would be visiting them soon enough–them and endless other realms. Maybe eloping with a man that could turn into a pigeon wasn’t the best miracle there ever was on Midgard, but it pulled off the most important trick of them all: Against all odds, you lived happily ever after.

[electronicdelusionstarlight]

Alright, here's a couple complaints about UA as a Hero School.

1) For starters, while I appreciate the author deciding to go against the classic H*rry P*tter bullshit of having an incredibly specialized high school whose lessons don't teach you crap, is there an actual reason for people who will be one day funneled into the hero industry to learn NOTHING about their job? UA is basically a trade school or a military academy, a very esteemed one at that, yet outside of Hero Training with All Might and the proposed Extracurricular Activities, UA does very little to teach her students about being Heroes.

2) Ok, here's a list of classes UA is seemingly missing from its curriculum:

A course on First Aid, how are those child soldiers supposed to save anyone if they don't know how to stop the bleeding.

A law course, how are they supposed to enforce the law if they never learned it in class?

Courses inherent the way they present themselves to the public and media??? Heroes are public figures first and foremost, ones whose image will be marketed, they need to get themselves a PR team from the Business course and become their yearlong project or something, what's the point otherwise?

Cooperation classes? Like, stuff about teaching people how to work with others and shit, UA does some shit where students are paired with each other yes but is more a sink or swim scenario since they always expect them to cooperate on the spot without ever having been taught how to.

Rescue Training. Like, I know we see ONE extracurricular activity which was the USJ, but that's still NOT a proper lesson, that's literally a one off thing we never see again afterwards. Heroes would first and foremost be trained in RESCUING PEOPLE rather than fighting you know? After all, half the licence exam is literally about that.

Negotiation and De-escalation training????

Analysis shit but that's mostly to cater to Izuku's special interest really.

3) What little curriculum they have on hero classes seems to be mostly about combat training which, on one hand, fair, on the other, how many heroes would potentially even face dangerous situations on a daily basis? Like, I know everyone has a Quirk and shit, but if we use Pigs as a comparison, in real life most crime is not violent in nature, and most police work is inherently about fines or paperwork.

This can obviously lead to rows of frustrated hotheads that were promised to be an action hero every day shooting down bad guys and shit, and are now stuck towing cars or shit like that.

You telling me B*kugou, who again is expecting a thrilling life of exploding violent and powerful criminals and showing the world he's the best, will easily accept the fact he is now working a 9/5 job with all the paperwork and boring shit it ensures? Say the emergency he's called for is a natural disaster, or a victimless crime like internet piracy, is he just going to ignore it? With the government breathing down everyone neck since they are paid by the rescue??? Is he even going to reach the quota that way?