#my boy you are a trainwreck

[eternal-confusion-of-han]

Wilson baby so when coming up with a believable story about who could give house something personal and thoughtful you immediately went with It was a romance for the ages but as it was grand it was tragic for it could never be. And yet after all these years, their feelings unchanged, all they can do is give each other these little tokens. Greg, made me think of you...

For contrast just because it's hilarious

[dayurno]

omg reverse riko au is making me feel so ill..... please let us know if you have any more thoughts abt riko kayleigh and kevin legend.....

I DO my idea is that its around the same age kevin and riko met in canon so tetsuji kicks the bucket when riko is 7/8 and riko is (very forcibly) removed from the nest and sidelined to kayleigh as a new moriyama asset from the main branch takes over the nest. riko struggles a lot with the change because he is very young and very scared and he’s used to horrible things at tetsuji’s hand, which means that he doesn’t trust kayleigh and finds kevin entirely too weird. it’s honestly really cute because i think at this point obviously 7 year old kevin wants to befriend him but riko is such an anxious ball of anger that most of their interactions are like

baby riko: what do you WANT from me. go AWAY!!!! NOW

baby kevin: (heavy irish accent) nothing i think. do you want a bite of my sandwich?

anyway i think riko and kayleigh do get along but he never really considers her his mother or even godmother, for a long time he thinks of her as his Benefactor until the child therapy starts hitting and she becomes Aunt Kayleigh and then after a few more years he can be loosely convinced to refer to her as auntie once or twice a year. his second son syndrome never really leaves him; in the upcoming years riko struggles with the idea that he’s anything But an add-on to the days and still overworks himself to death trying to be acknowledged by kengo, but it’s leaps better just from being outside the nest and having people to look out for him

riko and kevin have some rough patches, especially during riko’s first years with the days. because kevin is an easy target and riko is afraid of kayleigh he ends up letting a lot of that anger out on kevin, though obviously at this point they are children and riko’s anger manifests in some mild bullying and name calling. i think kevin doesn’t even understand it most of the time 😭 riko has been around grown ups his entire life so his adult level insults make no sense to kevin’s seven year old mind. nevertheless after kayleigh tells him to stop picking on kevin riko does respect it (first out of fear, then later because they actually get along) and they go on to become brothers with only a slight tendency towards antagonism. riko’s jealousy of kevin is still a big part of their relationship and i think even more so when college applications roll around, and he’s even more worried when wymack comes into the picture, but it never culminates into anything as horrible as hand breaking because riko has an actual outlet and a support system :) it’s mostly a yelling match that eventually turns to getting scolded by kayleigh for acting like barbarians

[gen-is-gone]

hrgh every time I think I've come close to forgiving lance fucking parkin I skim the gallifrey chronicles. and then I remember the Horrors.

[caprisomnocle]

just finished reading chi no wadachi andooooooooooo

i am NOT going to be sleeping properly tonight

[wellthisisembarrassing]

i’m finally doing this fandom i guess

[cyndrastic]

ok so since the last post about my polygamy from hell ship did better than i was expecting, i wanted to share literally one of my fav rarepairs:

i can find like no content for them and i don’t think they even have a proper ship name but i love them so much you don’t understand

[green-and-grey]

Lieutenant double-yefreitor Harrier "Diligent Boy" Du Bois

Lieutenant Kim "Naughty Boy" Kitsuragi

[bragganhyl]

ngl at times i get the urge to datamine some of the convo files to see if some of the lines Berci is getting are responses to his behavior or just generic lines that a custom Tav gets, but at the same time those lines usually play out in a funny way so i don't want to wreck the illusion

[dichromaniac]

WTF happened to my show?

[moodboardsbysarah]

pills n potions is the realest song ever. it captures the feeling of like... living your life and missing someone who you think about all the time but not stopping anyway . and being vengeful towards them and loving them to death at the same time

and indulging in all your memories a lot even tho you knew they were all toxic cuz thats the only thing an addict can do

[corkinavoid]

I'm pretty sure this has been done before (and several times), but brain going brrr, so

DPxDC John Constantine's How To: Ghost Kids

Bruce doesn't even get to say anything when the door to his study opens with a slam against the wall, and before he knows it, he gets an armful of kids. As in, a bouquet of them.

"I'm so done," John Constantine breathes out, raspy and exhausted, looking like a trainwreck incarnate. Granted, the man always looked like one, but right now, the effect has been greatly worsened. The dark circles under John's eyes are, in fact, black, and it looks like he hasn't shaved in at least a week.

Bruce looks down to the small gaggle of children in his lap that he caught in his hands by sheer reflex.

All three of them look up at him with identical, sky blue eyes. They could be twins if it was not for their obviously different ages - the girl looks no older than three, while the boys are probably around five and six.

The older boy scrunches his nose. The girl pouts, but it looks directed at Constantine rather than at him.

Bruce looks back to John, a silent question in his eyes.

"They are- Well, not mine, for starters," the man begins, placing his hands on the table right over the sheets and documents, and leans on it, hanging his head down. Then, he raises one hand up and waves it in the air, "Not yours either, thank the Gods for that." He takes a deep breath.

Bruce's eyebrows raise all the way up to his hairline. The girl starts trying to wiggle out of his hands, but the middle boy holds her back, keeping her in Bruce's lap. She pouts harder.

"And you've brought them here why?" Bruce breaks the stretched out silence, gently repositioning the kids into a more comfortable hold. John raises his head up at him, and the magician's eyes look straight up pleading.

"You're the only person I know of who is, one, a parent, two, acquainted with supernatural, three, a man of great patience, and four, owes me a favor." Constantine lists off reasons that don't really make sense all together, especially regarding kids. Then he thinks for a moment and adds, "Five, owes a shitton of liquor."

"John, what-"

"Listen, I've been dealing with them for a week, I'm at my limit," Constantine interrupts him, desperate and close to whining, "I haven't slept in more than three consecutive hours for days. I don't remember the last time I ate. Or took a shower."

Yes, Bruce can see that. Or, rather, smell it. But that answers none of his questions as to who, why, and how.

"I would kill for a bath," John admits, like it's some sort of a secret. The middle boy opens his mouth, but Constantine points an accusing finger at him, "No, the puddle of melted ghost ice does not count for a bath. And don't come at me with your death puns."

The child rolls his eyes but closes his mouth back and slumps. Bruce resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose, but only because he is holding three kids. His hands are full, quite literally.

"John, I need you to explain," he asks, somewhere between a demand and a careful inquiry. Because, really, the man looks on the brink of losing his sanity, that much is evident. Bruce might not like the man, but he can at least partially sympathize with dealing with kids.

His bare minimum of sympathy - and isn't it a bizarre thought, emotionally sympathizing with John Constantine of all people - does not ease his growing worry and irritation. The girl starts trying to get out of his hold again.

John takes a very deep breath, holds it, and then-

"I stole them," he says, looking Bruce dead in the eye, with a sense of resigned, if a bit unhinged, determination. And, before Bruce is able to ask literally anything else, he keeps going, "Their parents are shit, a branch of government is out for their guts - as in, literal guts - there was- there is a backdoor to the afterlife in their basement, and also they are dead and because of some Realms fuckery and their spiritual granddad being a huge pain in the ass, they are all wrong ages."

Bruce blinks. Then blinks again. Processing that sentence turns out to be a lot harder than he estimated.

The oldest kid in his lap gives John a middle finger, nearly sneering. The girl starts snickering, somehow making it soundless.

"Oh, and they are under a silence charm because if I hear one more references to fucking Ghostbusters I will shoot myself," Constantine finishes matter-of-factly.

Distantly, Bruce wonders if John can make that spell into some sort of an amulet. God knows, Dick really needs one sometimes. Steph does, too. And Jason. Actually, all of them need one.

He looks over the kids again. They don't seem scared or unsettled, neither by the fact they are sitting in a lap of a stranger nor by Constantine's bullet point version of a summary to their lives. They mostly just look annoyed and grumpy, and a bit embarrassed in case of the middle boy.

Bruce sighs and decides to start somewhere.

"Do they have names?"

[part 2 ->]

[asidian]

One thing I haven't seen talked about is Crystal's character arc, and specifically the way the timing of it interacts with Charles' arc. They stumble over each other in the worst possible way en route to their respective character growth, and from a narrative perspective, it's absolutely genius.

I'm going to preface all this by saying: none of this is a criticism of Crystal. Part of what makes her such a dynamic, refreshing character is that you don't get to see women in fiction written the way she's been written. You don't get to see women with her flaws that aren't throw-away mean girls or villains. You especially don't get to see women with her traits who learn and grow and become better people. So yeah, I'm going to talk about Crystal's character flaws. No, this isn't Crystal hate. We love our girl in this house. Okay? Okay. Let's start.

Crystal's character arc, at its heart, is all about her learning to be a better person because she has good influences that love and support her for the first time.

When the show starts, Crystal is not a nice person. She's abrasive in a way that's specifically designed to push people away. She's used to getting her own way, and it shows. She's used to having no meaningful connections with anyone, and it shows. She's breathtakingly selfish, in the very literal sense of the definition. She is focused on her self. Her problems are front and center to her; everything is about what she needs, and what she wants, and how she's struggling.

Jenny calls her out very early on. In episode one, Crystal is complaining about the boys, and Jenny, for all her cynicism, strikes right at the heart of the problem. She tells Crystal, "Everybody is always thinking about themselves, all the time." People only care about their own problems. And she says, correctly, that that's what Crystal is doing, too.

This moment is a revelation for Crystal. For the first time, she considers what her behavior looks like from another person's perspective. As she says, she gets mad at herself over it, and that awareness allows her to do something selfless for the first time in the series. She takes a step back and insists that instead of focusing on her problems, they go to help a little girl. It's a big moment for her.

But importantly, she's not done growing as a character here. She's only just getting started.

On my first watch through, I didn't realize how often, over the next few episodes, Crystal redirects things to her problems during conversation, but it's quite a lot. She's still focused on herself – selfish, in that most literal definition of the word. The issues most important to her are her issues. She's starting to learn to think about other people, but she's not there yet. The process is still underway.

Which brings us to Charles.

Charles' arc is a different sort of self-reflection. He's terrified that he's a bad person the way his father was and the way the boys that killed him were.

During the course of the show, he gets systematically stripped of his confidence and made to feel helpless, and just like Crystal needs outside influences to help her reach a more stable place, Charles does, too. He desperately needs reassurance that he isn't everything he's afraid he is.

But my goodness, the timing in their arcs is such a trainwreck when you put them together, and it is brilliant.

Let's start with the Devlin House.

Crystal has some amazing character growth here. She displays genuine concern about Charles, makes an attempt at comforting him, and learns to work with Edwin even though she still doesn't particularly like him at this point.

Charles, meanwhile, is beginning to fall apart. He's just had the worst night of his afterlife. He's been viscerally reminded of how helpless he is. He couldn't stop the Devlins from being killed over and over, just like he couldn't stop his own father's abuse. He messed up his attempted rescue so badly that he was completely out of commission until the case was finished. He managed to help not one single thing. He made no impact at all. He couldn't help those girls any more than he was able to help himself, while he was still alive.

So they get back to the butcher shop, and what do we see? Monty immediately coopts Edwin. Niko doesn't know what's happened because she wasn't there and Charles has been all fake smiles with her. And Crystal goes off with Niko, leaving Charles to flounder on his own in the wake of everything. She's still learning how to support other people. She isn't there yet, and it's extremely on display in this moment.

Then we get the lighthouse episode, and they both get put through the wringer here. Crystal gets her hopes and expectations jerked around by the Night Nurse in the very worst way, and Charles gets hit with a whole pile full of trauma. All that helplessness wells to the forefront again. Combined with being forced to relive some of his worst memories and the desperation to keep Edwin safe from hell, Charles lets himself act on his anger for once.

And what does he get in the aftermath? Horror.

Everyone who cares about him is horrified by what he's done. Edwin goes so far as to call it extreme. They don't know the half of it, of course; they haven't seen what the Night Nurse just put him through. But in this moment Charles is at his absolute lowest, and all he sees is confirmation that he's exactly as terrible as he thinks he is.

That's why Charles shrugs off Edwin's attempt at comfort, here. When he needed to be able to do something to protect Edwin and also himself – when he needed to believe that he could be better than what his father always was – all he sees is the confirmation from the people he cares about most that when push came to shove, he really is a bad guy.

Then comes the aftermath. And this moment is such a brilliant, awful clash of both of their character arcs. It is so delightfully messy.

Because Charles starts to open up to Crystal here. He starts to lay himself bare, the way he ends up doing with Edwin in episode 5. He's on the verge of admitting something that he's been worried about for literal decades. He tells her, "I've been angry for such a long time."

And what does Crystal do? She's still in the midst of her own character growth. She's still struggling to support other people. She's still learning how to. In a lot of ways, though she's made progress already, she's still that selfish girl that Jenny called out in the very first episode.

And she shows it here it with the absolute worst possible timing. No sooner has Charles started to talk about what's bothering him than she cuts in with her own problems. She's tired of riddles and spirits and demons and not knowing who she is. And the look on Charles' face. The moment when he visibly sets aside his own problems, because Crystal doesn't need any more disasters on her plate? It's heartbreaking. You can actually track the subtle change in his expression there. The actor does a phenomenal job.

And then comes the kiss. And what spurs it? Crystal saying she needs something real.

This moment isn't about light-hearted attraction, the way the earlier flirting is. It's Charles setting aside what he needs – comfort and reassurance and a moment to talk through the things that have been tearing him apart – to give her what she says she wants. He can't even feel it. And Crystal isn't far enough along in her character growth here to realize how selfish she's being. Like Jenny said way back in episode one, she's only thinking about herself.

And then comes the absolute unmitigated disaster of episode 5.

Straight out the gate, Charles leans in for a kiss. From his perspective, they have something together; there's affection there. Charles "I think I'd miss kissing" Rowland, who has been starved for meaningful physical contact for thirty years, is not in a hurry to give this up.

But Crystal is fresh out of a nightmare where she conflates Charles with her abusive ex. She withdraws; she calls what they had a distraction. She cuts it off almost as soon as it's started, so focused on her own worries here that she misses how damn fake Charles' smile is, to cover up that he's coming to pieces.

To be clear, she's absolutely not in the wrong here. It is 1000% her prerogative not to jump into a relationship again while she's still struggling to work through what happened with David. But the arc of her narrative is still early enough that she does it all without so much as the awareness that her focus on her own issues has hurt Charles terribly.

And then the episode really kicks off, and both of them are in shambles in very different ways.

Crystal is projecting her issues with David onto Charles. She has a lot of history, and David seems as though he's exactly the right sort of toxic to leave lasting a lasting impact. But Charles hasn't done anything to deserve her assumptions, and he takes the brunt of her temper here and throughout the episode.

Charles is desperately projecting onto the dead jocks. He very badly wants them to be good guys, because he sees himself in them and he needs himself to be a good guy. He snipes back at Crystal for the very first time in this episode, and he does it in the worst way possible, accidentally prodding her where it will do the most damage.

They're both hurting. They both say some truly painful things to one another.

She does not need to hear that she has unsorted hangups about David still plaguing her while she's unable to move past them. He desperately does not need anyone to tell him that he has rage issues while he's still struggling to think of himself as a decent person.

They apologize, in the end. They start to move past it.

But it's telling that Charles doesn't try to open up to Crystal again. He goes to Edwin instead, even though Edwin is the one who called his actions regarding the Night Nurse extreme. He gets the reassurance he needs so badly; he gets the connection he was looking for with Crystal from Edwin, instead. (I have a lot of thoughts on why Charles initially tries to open up to Crystal so quickly, but it is very much an aside, and this is already extremely long, so it will have to wait for another write-up.)

But the important thing here is, Edwin is the one to offer Charles what he needs to overcome the self-doubt eating him alive. Edwin provides the physical affection Charles was seeking in the form of that long-overdue hug. Edwin is the one who's able to reaffirm for him that he's not just a good guy, he's the best person Edwin knows.

And for all intents and purposes, Charles' major character arc ends here.

Charles has a few last little moments to go on the path to rebuilding his own self-image, after this, but for the most part his concerns have been resolved. He saves Crystal in episode 6 and Edwin in episode 7, proving to himself that he's able to make a difference in the face of overwhelming odds. He's not helpless, no matter what the Night Nurse told him; he can be a force for good in the world. By the end of the series, his crisis of self-doubt seems to have been largely overcome.

But it's the conversation with Edwin at the end of episode 5 that really allows him to work through his most pressing issues. Edwin is there to help support him when he stumbles. Edwin provides him the comfort he was looking for while Crystal was too worried about her own problems to notice how badly he needed the help.

Crystal, meanwhile, still has a ways to go after episode 5. The last three episodes are where she does her most important character growth.

In episode 6, she learns some hard lessons about keeping secrets and letting people help and appreciate you even when you can't offer them anything in return. And Charles, importantly, is there for her every step of the way. He consistently offers her physical and emotional support. He models for her, in a very real way, what it looks like to have someone prop you up when you need the help.

And in turn, Crystal steps in to save the boys. She's the big damn hero at the end of this episode.

The breakthrough continues into episode 7. She's so intent on helping to get Edwin out of hell that she literally goes to face her own demons, not for herself for once – not for her own purposes or needs or wants – but because she wants to help someone else.

And episode 8, at long last, brings her to the culmination of her character arc.

Crystal is at her absolute lowest here. Her family, the people who were supposed to love her unconditionally, didn't even realize she was gone. Her precious memories, that she's spent the entire series trying to regain, have showed her that she's not the person she hoped she would be. She's overwhelmed enough that she means to flee, to cut herself off from her new friends entirely.

Then the boys get kidnapped. And just like that, she makes up her mind.

For the first time since the start of the series, she sets aside her most important issues in order to let what other people need take precedence. She disregards all of her own personal concerns and focuses instead on others. She's finally stepped out of those selfish impulses that Jenny calls her out on, all the way back in the first episode. She's finally learned how to support other people when they need it.

Crystal has finally figured out how to be there for others, despite having troubles of her own.

It's a lovely arc, and it's beautifully done.

Charles' is just as touching.

And god damn, but it was a brilliant narrative choice to have their character arcs line up in exactly the wrong way.

[julietsbody]

girlnextdoor

( chapter one :

studyme.png )

words: 3,525

tags: 18+!!!! mdni , camgirl ! reader , camming, sex worker ! reader , masturbation , falling in love , body worship , religious / greek imagery , voyeurism, semi ! sub coriolanus , fantasizing

p.s : this is also on my ao3! ( divider by i92-93 )

a/n : i don’t know how i managed to make this an emotional story with greek references, but i did it somehow LOLL hope u enjoy!!

PROLOGUE : COMPETITION .

festus had an irrational mouth, he had dared coriolanus to do stupid things before, like asking girls out, or to have one night stands with them. it was awful, coriolanus hated being around festus because he was like a fly buzzing around in his eardrums, circling around his head and refusing to leave no matter how many times he swipes at it. coriolanus wasn’t the only victim unfortunately, sejanus was the main one for festus, because sejanus was weak, pliant, and could easily be peer pressured into anything.

“i dare you to ask her out,” he points to a girl in the library, a girl with clemensia and arachne.

dear fucking god, save us all, this is going to be a crucification performed in the middle of the academy’s library.

“you’re joking, right?” sejanus coughs out an awkward laugh.

festus’ eyes narrow, a dangerous seriousness, “no, it’s not that hard.”

“why don’t you do it then?” coriolanus slices in the conversation.

“i have a girlfriend,” festus shrugs, “can’t.”

coriolanus barks out a bitter laugh, “who would date you?”

“okay, that’s fucking rude, and she’s hella hot, so fuck off, please,” festus rolls his eyes, “go on, sejanus!”

sejanus frowns, festus was talking so loud that the girls were now looking at them, with their judgemental, pristine stares.

so he sighs, and raises to a stand, making coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow, he knew sejanus was weak, impulsive, but not to this level, “you aren’t actually gonna do it, are you?”

“i am,” sejanus sounds confident, but he isn’t. poor, sweet sejanus.

what a trainwreck, like something you try to hard to look away from, but you just can’t. your eyes follow him as he moves over to the girls, a small smile curving his lips when he finally approaches them, an opposite to their sharp eyes. clemensia’s head tips to the side, “yes, sejanus?”

sejanus inhales, trying to remind himself that he does have a way with words, so just use that.

his eyes move down to you, “i was wondering if—“

“no,” you respond quickly.

he swallows, “okay.”

and festus is laughing, god it’s more of a cackle than a laugh.

but the girls don’t laugh, they know festus’ game, if anything they hate festus more than any of the poor boys that are dared to ask them out for dates.

“who’s your girlfriend?” coriolanus asks, having a feeling that he’s lying.

festus’ laughter immediately calms down, “she’s a pornstar, and she’s like super in love with me.”

“does she even know you exist?” coriolanus scoffs, “‘m sure she’s just doing her job.”

“shut the fuck up,” he rolls his eyes, “you’re just mad you could never get with a girl like mine.”

“let me see her,” coriolanus offers, and of course, festus pulls up a picture of a girl who hardly shows her face.

you can only see her lips, and from then on she’s in very tight and revealing clothing, coriolanus stares at the picture for a second, then looks at festus.

festus smirks cockily, “hot, right?”

hot, is that all he views his so called girlfriend as?

“you can’t even see her face,” he confronts, and festus rolls his eyes.

“that’s not the point—“

“then what is?”

“her videos, dude, they’re so good,” festus’ voice becomes a loudly hushed whisper now.

coriolanus’ jaw ticks, “you sure she even knows you?”

“okay, she doesn’t— but like—“ he groans, “why don’t you try to get her to notice you, asshole?”

“i don’t watch porn,” coriolanus shrugs simply.

festus coughs out a laugh, “yeah, say that again when you’re searching girlnextdoor tonight.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

coriolanus, in his own defense, should be saying that it was curiosity. at first it was, yes, pure innocent, unshielded curiosity. then it became what it truly was underneath all of his guards, admiration. with each video, each picture, it had his teeth gritting. he didn’t want to pay to see your exclusive content at first, but with how little you showed on every other platform, it almost felt necessary. girlnextdoor, what a peculiar name, he was itching to know more about you.

maybe it was the competition festus had set him up for that had him wanting this, coriolanus was never one for porn, or for jerking off. but god, he might now be. it was disgusting, how much his mind raced with every suggestive picture, ones where you teased the contents underneath your bra, or a video where you were taking off your panties but still showing nothing.

he went back to your original website, only to find, in bold letters, LIVE.

live? he swallows thick, cursor moving to click on the maroon enticing him.

the sight that came nearly had him clicking off almost immediately, you had been moved into a cowgirl position, riding a dildo. your moans filled his eardrums almost immediately, each whine, each movement of your hips delivering a squelching sound. he felt like a dehydrated man, throat run dry, tongue devoid of any saliva. aphrodite, in her natural habitat, sex, love, devotion, she is putting herself on display— yet with the camera placed to show everything only from below her nose, she is so hidden at the same time.

he was biting the delicate skin on the inside of his cheek, peaking near the metallic taste, but he didn’t even realize over the heat rushing to his dick. he breathed out, wondering what it would feel like if you were to be on him, with those experienced hips, that body which looks like it was crafted from the gods himself, your pussy swallowing his dick whole—

he clicks off as soon as the thought sears in his mind, he doesn’t need to be thinking of a pornstar like this.

his eyes close for a minute, and all he can see in that darkness is the shape of your body, the bucking of your hips as you ride the dildo, and he sighs.

he should sleep. it’s late.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

INTERLUDE : HAUNTED .

adoration, a statue by stephen abel sinding, made from delicate marble. it depicted a man at a woman’s feet, as she sat upon a pedestal. he was on his knees, eyes staring up at the goddess in front of him, as she sat with her back straight, eyes falling upon the man that worshipped her. he kissed her legs with care, admiration, hands slipping onto her calves as he plants his lips upon her shins. she was gorgeous above him, allowing him to take every part of her into his hold, to kiss her and devote his whole pride to her.

coriolanus swallows thick, he thought that when his eyes moved to a close, his thoughts would dissipate.

they got worse, so, so much worse. they were more vivid now, dirtier, his longing worsening.

he imagined what words would spill from your mouth as your hips swayed on him, he allowed you to take the lead, restraining himself from fucking into you like a desperate man. to be honest, he was desperate, he was needy, the feeling of your puffy walls closing in on him had him almost whimpering himself. a god is no match to his goddess, he will always fall to his knees in front of her, no matter what. coriolanus had pride, surely, but the idea of your clit rubbing against his abdomen as your hips stuttered on him had his pride becoming weak façades.

say that again when you’re searching girlnextdoor tonight.

fuck you, festus. he was the reason that coriolanus even knew this camgirl existed, the reason for the painful stains on his mind.

festus wouldn’t be so cocky if the girl he calls his girlfriend had coriolanus’ dick in her mouth.

the feeling of your mouth on his dick became vivid as well now, he could see it so clearly, your doe eyes staring up at him through those velvet lashes as your pillow lips move to press sloppy, open - mouthed kisses onto the tip of his cock. you were teasing him, surely, and he couldn’t take it. he would grit out a small plea for you to actually suck him in, and he would feel your lips curl onto his tip, “beg.”

begging, coriolanus always hated the idea of it, he thought it was weak, gross, submissive.

but in this moment, he was so clouded with lust that he didn’t care for the repercussions of a simple please.

“please, just fucking— god, i need—“ he couldn’t even get his words right, it was sweet. your eyebrow cocked at him, his piercing blue eyes staring down at you through dilated pupils and lazy lids. you finally took pity, lips parting further so your tongue could snake out and slide underneath his cock as you take him in finally. the warmth was all too much for coriolanus, wetness, warmth, his fingers move to thread through the weaves of your hair, his bottom lip falling tight underneath his top teeth.

his hips buck ever so slightly, again, desperation. you don’t react though, if anything, you just moaned around him.

no gag reflex? dear god, you’ll be coriolanus’ ruin.

god will not be present in this moment though, as though this is a reenactment of the martyrdom of saint sebastian. arrows shooting at him as he falls to his fate, he was strung up, shot with the painful spears, and left for his death. isn’t that so alike to now? festus had tied him up, fed him stories of this woman and allowed him to fall into sin, then left him for his own demise.

apples began to taste sweeter, even with their poison, as coriolanus finds his hand dipping below his waistband, his long fongers fell along his painful hardness. he mumbled a curse into the gentle air as he finally relieves himself from all of his sins, as of he’s sitting in the confessional of a church, whispering all of his sins to the judgemental priest. the scales tipped as his fingers moved to curl around his cock, fist moving up and down on his length.

the pictures continued, he thought of how he would take care of you first, now if he was the one dominating.

he would go rough, he always loved the idea of fucking someone senseless, making every vein buzz with only pleasure, mind forming thoughts solely of lust. he imagines holding you close as his fingers curl inside of you, he doesn’t push them in and out fast at first, but when your hips buck up against him— he becomes harsher, the intention of bruising your lips evident.

next, he moves to press you against the mattress, fucking you senseless into it.

he hums into the air, “ah— fuck..”

his breathing is labored, eyes scrunching shut as the pictures of your eyes rolling back becomes a mere oil painting in front of him, perched on the walls of the most pristine museums. his fingers would pass through your hair again, now the back of your head, pulling you back so your spine is flush against his chest. you’d lean back against him, melting into his skin and begging for more. surely, you had enough experience from your dildos and other sexual toys, or partners, but none of them could compare to coriolanus as his hips snap into you.

he groans into the air, seething in the pleasure, “i’ll fuck you so good..— mm.”

he moves to now fuck into his hand, imagining his hand a depiction of your velvet walls around him, clenching as you near your high.

you moan against his flesh, his fingers moving from your hair to your neck, pulling you until your flesh molds with his, adoration and lust merging you two together.

he went faster, harsher, fucking into his hand until his thighs grew sore, finally reaching his high.

he spills into his hand, sighing into the humid air.

“my god—“ he mumbles, eyes fluttering open.

what the fuck is his problem?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

INTERLUDE : DARE ME ?

“so, did you talk to her?” festus interrogates him, per usual.

coriolanus’ eyes are heavy, he hardly slept after the events of last night, “no, i didn’t.”

“fucking loser,” festus snears, “she was live last night.”

“i know,” he swallows thick, the image of you riding the dildo returning to his mind, “did you talk to her?”

“yeah,” he shrugs, cocky, again, “i’m texting her right now.”

coriolanus’ eyebrows furrow, he leans over to see festus sending a message.

a phone goes off in the library.

as soon as the message is sent.

coriolanus blinks, once, twice, “send another.”

so he does, he types out another message and send it.

the same phone goes off again, just as the message says delivered.

coincidence?

coriolanus doesn’t believe in those.

“you’re so fucking weird dude, don’t try to read my messages,” festus pushes him away.

coriolanus groans, he couldn’t care less to read festus’ messages, “are you paying her to talk to you?”

“yes, but that’s not the point—“ festus quickly tries to save himself from the humiliation.

coriolanus scoffs, “she’s not your girlfriend, you can’t even get one, like ever.”

“and what about you, virgin?” festus leans in, a smirk growing on his lips. coriolanus knows what that smirk means, it means coriolanus will soon be sealing his fate, “why don’t you try to get one?”

“i’m good,” coriolanus shrugs, “nobody’s here for you to even dare me to ask out.”

“clemensia is,” he points to the table where you and clemensia always sit at, and of course, you’re both there, “and her friend.”

“i’m not asking them out,” coriolanus moves down in his chair.

“yes you are, i dare you.”

“no, you’re so fucking stu—“

“i’m gonna tell everyone you’re a virgin.”

coriolanus’ weakness was people knowing all the humiliating things about him, one of those things was the fact that he hasn’t had sex yet. coriolanus was an attractive man, he could get women if he truly wanted to and spend his nights with them, but he refused. and that made festus’ dares easy.

coriolanus’ jaw shifts, “you’re an asshole.”

every step he takes is slow, calculated, yet confident. it’s a certain stride that coriolanus always has, where he knows what he’s doing, but unsure at the same time. especially now, especially when your hair falls off your shoulder as you turn to have your eyes fall on him, sensing his approach. maybe it was a common thing for you, knowing festus would be daring his friends to come up to you, clemensia, or arachne.

always on high alert, he assumes.

his eyes fall the exposition of your shoulder, a key to one of those tight shirts that you always wear, even when it was against dress code.

a tight skirt and a short skirt, your motto, clearly. your twist underneath the table when he stands next to your seat, close, but not enough to make you uncomfortable. one thing he does notice though, is the strap of your bra. pink? a familiar shade, and as he follows it down, he notices the lace that starts on your bra. it looks an awful lot like the bra that the camgirl wore last night, the bra that coriolanus imagined you taking off for him.

his eyes narrow, he seems distracted, and you stare at him like he’s dumb, “hello?”

his eyes snap to your face at your words, “sorry— i—“

“what? are you gonna ask me out?” god, were you always this bitchy?

“i was planning on it,” his jaw shifts, eyes dipping to the plush of your lips, coated in that sparkly, strawberry gloss you always wore, “would you have said yes?”

“no, god, what is with you assholes?” you roll your eyes, pencil tapping impatiently against the desk.

“hm, not even a study date?” his eyes trail down to the book on your desk, “i saw your score on the test last week.”

“ew, fucking creep,” you snap, “i don’t need your help.”

“you sure?” his eyebrow cocks, your no isn’t stable yet, so he’s persuasive.

“coriolanus,” clemensia cuts in, “she said no.”

“did she?” he whistles, a cocky smile curving his lips, one that you want to slap off him, “must’ve not heard that.”

“then get some hearing aids,” you laugh, “i’m not sucking your dick.”

“didn’t ask you to, but we’ll see, sweetheart.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

we’ll see. he didn’t even know where those words came from, or his cockiness, maybe it was the fact that he suspected you to be the girl he had on his mind last night. if so, then he would know things about you that many don’t, and that gives him power.

greed : an insatiable desire for material objects, wealth, and power.

coriolanus snow was a greedy man.

he kept a closer eye on you now, eyes pinning to the back of your head, memorizing the way you style your hair, so that he can see if the hair that drips off your shoulders in all of your secret videos were the same. or if your lips were as sparkly and glossed in those videos as they are in person. did you wear the same mini skirt you wore to school in your videos? that would be dirty, wouldn’t it? capitol girl, dressed in her pristine clothes as she fucks herself in front of thousands.

what a slut.

he had to figure it out, it was an untamable hunger that not even the most holy prayer could exorcize out of him. rosaries dripped around the fingers he used to curl around his cock the night before, and even in his most innocent prayers, his mind reflected back onto the idea of pulling the rosary around your neck as he fucks into you. his eyes snap open, and now just another thing that he had done so clearly before was plagued with your existence.

was this you calling out to him? beckoning him to pray for you?

if so, he might just do it, dedicate all of his rosaries to you, replace virgin mary with yourself, and look at every cross and think of you moving onto it, sliding the wood into your womanhood.

coriolanus’ throat was dry again, his own thoughts making him want to vomit.

those were the kinds of things festus would be fantasizing about, not coriolanus— and yet, here he was, on his knees, imagining you on the pedestal. your hair dips past your shoulders as you look down at him, those judgemental, buggish eyes, now bleeding onto his skull. his fingers dip behind your calves, memorizing the touch of the flesh that smoothed over muscle and bone. his eyes cascade up your legs, past your breasts, to the eyes that look down on him.

he has a certain look in his eyes, a look that is saying he’s doing this all for you. dropping his pride for you, allowing his walls to crumble for you, tarnishing his name for you. sometimes snow doesn’t land on top, sometimes it melts and becomes weak in the sky, sometimes it crumbles underneath itself.

he plants gentle kisses to your shins, admirations, soft praises and prayers.

goddess, did you hear about the man who roamed lost? the man who fell weak? tell me of his efforts, what brought him to this point, the people he met, the worlds he crossed, to now be brought to his knees in front of his muse. he was complicated, hidden, and yet you peeled him apart like a pomegranate. the juice splatters against your face as he opens himself to you, and something about it is so very special.

scratches fall down his back, and again, he’s blinking himself to reality.

his fingers on the keyboard, he finds himself at your profile once more, now beckoning you to him. a twisted game of tug - of - war, isn’t it? pieces fall into place as he clicks on the link which leads him to paying for your exclusive content.

research purposes, of course.

he spends his money so easily, he doesn’t even take a second thought to it as the page reloads with his newfound access to all your hidden secrets. his fingers pry as he pulls down the website, scrolling through each aspect that you hold in the reflections of who you really are.

a whore? no, a temptress.

he sucks in a breath at the sights of you bending over in front of the camera, fucking a dildo into yourself, or the next one of you in a missionary position with a vibrator on your clit. or the next one of you fucking a dildo between your tits. coriolanus rasps out the breath he sucked in earlier, adjusting in his seat, this wasn’t another invitation to jerk off, it was studying.

he scrolls past a few more videos and then, his eyes catch it, the skirt.

a small smile curves his lips, power.

he has it.

or so, he thinks he does, you have his money, his admiration, him on his knees, have him confused on whether or not this is truly you. skirts and coincidences don’t tell much, he just likes to jump to conclusions. the hair didn’t even match up—

so does he really have the power?

we’ll see, sweetheart.

[nikitaxlee]

"𝖒𝖞 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊"

✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀

ᴊᴀᴋᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: ᴀɴɢsᴛ, sᴜɪᴄ!ᴅᴇ, ᴄʜᴇᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴛᴏxɪᴄ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ, ɪɴᴛᴇɴsᴇ sᴄᴇɴᴇs, ɢᴏʀᴇ.

𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴: 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘫𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰��𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭, 𝘦𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘢𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘑𝘢𝘬𝘦. ₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘

ᴍᴜsɪᴄ: ᴀ ʙᴏʏ ɪs ᴀ ɢᴜɴ*- ᴛʏʟᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴏʀ

ᴘᴜᴘᴘᴇᴛ - ᴛʏʟᴇʀ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛᴏʀ

ᴛᴀɢs: @hwanchaesong here you are babes😊

✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀

letter from reader

I didn't know why I so badly wanted him to go away that first time he talked to me. Maybe it was the way he always looked at me like one looks at a meal. Knowing he'll enjoy it in the moment but in the end he'll need a new meal preferably different than the one he had the night before, whatever the reason was, I was right to have wanted him gone. A small roadblock in my life. The night I caught him was the night I died. The day that car was speeding faster and faster until it hit that tree, figuratively and literally. That was the best way to describe me and Jakes relationship. Exhilerating in the moment but doomed from the start. A fucking trainwreck. Maybe that was why I loved him. Still do love him. God did I love every intoxicating moment of bittersweet hapiness. A paradox isn't it? A girl who loved and a boy who didn't. Perfect fucking match.

Jake, my love, why didn't you love me? I gave you everything and more. I wanted the kind of love you have for soccer, for layla, and you're stupid fucking PC that you would fucking waste time on. You know what they all had in common? You all loved them unconditionally. I. Gave. You. Everything. And as you read this I am giving you my life. Because, Jake, love, this is the last thing I do to prove I love you, to prove I can't live without you. God, even if you never loved me. As long as you were there... Please, my love, come visit me when I'm gone, at least once. I want you to love me when I'm gone, but I don't think that will happen. So this is where I say goodbye Jake, my pretty boy. Give Layla extra kisses for me. I love you.

---

1:02 A.M

When Jake made his way to the kitchen, unfamiliar body still tangled in his sheets, he didn't feel anything but numb. The look in your eyes as you opened the door to see him 8 inches deep in someone that wasn't you. In the moment it gave him this sick satisfaction of seeing you hurt. But he couldn't help but wonder if he had perhaps taken this game he played a little to far. Although the two of you weren't necessarily dating, you had a somewhat exclusive relationship. And he loved seeing the tears well in your eyes as he hurt you intentionally just to see run back to him. This wasn't the first time he had called you over here when he had a girl over. he loved seeing you break little by little. In his own sick world, he thought it would cause you to stay by his side.

The floorboards creaked as he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen to grab some food. He would have to kick the girl out of his bed before you came back in about an hour he guessed. The second he stepped into the kitchen a feeling of dread rushed over him. He didn't notice anything amiss in the kitchen. Except the envelop sitting on the counter with the lighter he gave you for your birthday. The one thing you had from him. You had never reacted this way, usually you would just send him a text letting him know when you'd be back and to text you when he was done. As he pocketed the lighter and opened the letter he noticed the rushed handwriting right away, with bits scribbled out. He started reading and with each word his heart dropped. Each sentence was a stab in the heart. When he moved onto the next paragraph he started connecting the dots on what you were about to do. He didn't even finish the second paragraph before he was in his car.

1:10 A.M

"Fuck, Fuck, FUCK." He screamed. This could not be happening to him. Contrary to popluar belief, he really did love you, he just had a fucked up way of showing it. His tears streamed down his face as he sped to your house. "Y/N I swear to god, please, please, hold on for me baby, I'm so fucking sorry." he was going at least 15 over the limit right now. He entered the bridge before getting on the highway, and that was when he noticed the crowd of first responders on the highway. He was no longer crying just pure terror overcame him as he recognized the car lodged in the tree. The entire 3 lanes were blocked off but he still pulled up to the site. "Baby, baby, no no no NO" He quickly hopped out his car as his phone blew up with texts from the members;

Jay: JAKE, TELL ME THAT ISN'T Y/N'S CAR ON THE NEWS RN

Jungwon: oh god

Ni-Ki: call us now

10 new messages

12:25 A.M

Y/N: Hey Jake, js letting you know I'm going to be running a bit late, I'm picking up some food on the way over, wanna watch a movie? :)

12:36

Y/N: Omw, i picked up sushi!

Y/N: Is the key in the usual spot?

He felt like throwing up as his vision cleared and saw you laying there on the concrete paramedics rushing around you as others are currently performing CPR on you. For some reason he couldn't bring himself to run for you, just slowly shuffling towards the scene. He felt like he had just died and started seeing it all in 3rd person, him slowly walking towards you, the paramedics. Then he was running, almost reaching you but not before the police pulled him back.

"HEY THIS IS A SCE-" "THAT'S MY FUCKING GIRLFRIEND!" He said as he dropped to his knees and cried.

The policeman just held him back as he thrashed and watched as the paramedics put the white sheet over you and spoke.

"Time of death 1:46, died due to imapct to the head flying through the windshield, suspected suicide due to last text messages to family."

'No, no, she can't be-" he sputtered and hyperventilated.

"Ch-check again" he said to no one in particular.

The letter you left crushed in his hand.

✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀ ✿✿ ❀

A/N: Moral of the story don't take your roomates cinnabon or it's on sight. One ❤️= One Cinnabon for me🥹₊˙♡﹗˚ ༘

[roosterr]

✹roosterr's masterlist✹

✹ request rules ✹ ao3 ✹

all my fics are appearance / gender neutral

i don't do taglists

『 multi 』

the 141 when you have amnesia || [p2]

the 141 falls asleep on you

『 price 』

firewatch | series masterlist

summary: a firewatch tower in the heart of a state park is as far away from your trainwreck life as you can get. the company of the man in your radio is just a bonus.

murphy's law

summary: when a simple mission goes south, you get left behind in the confusion. you just can’t seem to catch a break.

outside it starts to pour

summary: in your dreams, you're more than just someone who warms john's bed

general hcs

『 nikolai 』

guardian angel

[one] || [two] || [three] || [four]

summary: you meet nik in a less than conventional manner, but the spark between you is undeniable - even if he almost shot you. when you're declared mia after a risky mission, he refuses to lose you before he got to love you.

put me back in it

summary: nikolai up and disappeared one day. you thought you'd never see him again, but then he shows up at your door in the middle of the night.

nik doesn't get jealous

general hcs

『 ghost 』

white flag

[prologue] || [one] || [two] || [interlude] || [three] || [four] || [five] || [six] || [epilogue]

summary: if there's one constant in your life, it's that ghost doesn't like you, so when your house burns down and you have no choice but to move in with him, it feels like your life is on a steady downhill spiral.

i'll pay

summary: you're one of the few people simon lets get close. sometimes he just needs someone to lean on, even if he doesn't know how to ask. (platonic)

『 gaz 』

bad idea

summary: you do something stupid to get you and gaz out of a bad situation

only you

summary: you and soap get to talking about your love life, gaz gets jealous.

『 soap 』

love you from afar

summary: you receive a series of mysterious gifts from a mysterious admirer.

whatchya got, boy?

summary: soap is scared of dogs, you're a k9 handler. your dog is good at finding bodies, he doesn't ever want him to have to find yours.

[lifea16]

Incorrect quotes, for the millionth time ig

Stolas: My husband (Blitz) [The extrovert] and I [The introvert] got separated on our flight. We're in middle seats in the same row. So far I have apologized to the people sitting next to me 7 times. My husband is currently sharing beef jerky with strangers and I think he's in someone's wedding. ----- Blitz: So I just learnt you can sue people for "loss of enjoyment of life" and oh boy I have a fucking list ----- Blitz: FIGHT ME, YOU NERD ASS SLUT! Moxxie: At least try to sound slightly more sophisticated when you threaten someone. Blitz: Oh, I'm sorry. I should ask; dost thou want to engage in a duel, my good bitch? Moxxie: Somehow that's worse. ----- Blitz: Life is like the circus, because my dad signed me up for it and expects me to do my best even though I fucking hate preforming! ----- Verosika: We can’t tell you because you’re not a member of the club. Blitz: What club? Verosika: The hating Blitzo club. Blitz: …The fuck? I should be the leader of that club! ----- Blitz: Asked my therapist who their therapist was and went to see them. Asked them the same thing until I got to the final boss therapist and defeated them with my trainwreck of a life ----- Moxxie *probably high*: Money… Is like president trading cards. ----- Millie: Why are you on fire? Blitz: This is just how my day is going.