#oh i'm gonna end up adding her at this rate

[tvrningout-a]

so i'm thinking about what helena maybe had to give up in order to gain the ability to travel beyond the borders of her forest, and i : ) wanna yell so loudly : ) so here we go with a helena lore post <3 please note that as always, i'm taking creative liberties with the mythology i mention!

so what's a dryad? a tree nymph. what's a nymph? a spirit of nature who typically cares for the flora and fauna of the area they originate from. river nymphs protect and care for the rivers, tree nymphs protect and care for the forests, etc. these nymphs have a connection to the earth, though not as strong as a god's; still, it is a connection that not only allows them to sense when threats like famine approach, but it also allows them to be connected to each other. their feelings and thoughts, on some level, are shared. when one is hurt and suffering, the others feel it; when one is happy and thinking a mile a minute, the others feel and hear an echo of that voice; when one dies, the others feel it and mourn collectively.

this connection is one of the things helena sacrifices in exchange for freedom.

dryads are born from and bound to a particular tree, and they cannot wander far from it without risking death. but helena wanted so badly to see the world, meet new people, escape her home where she was surrounded by the same scenery and the same faces every single day. so when she meets bronwyn, she asks if they can make a deal, if bronwyn can somehow free her. she doesn't realize exactly what she'll have to sacrifice for the deal to work. helena's soul is tethered to that tree, and it'll take great magic to break such a bond. it'll take great sacrifice.

the connection between helena and her sisters and mothers is an unforeseen casualty, however. she realizes she should have seen it coming -- if she broke the bond between her and her tree, then wouldn't other bonds break, too? but it never crossed her mind, and the silence she awoke to was maddening. never had her mind been so quiet, so empty of any other being. it was unsettling. it was lonely, so lonely. this is part of the reason why helena decides to travel with bronwyn and remains by her side.

helena's family believed her to be dead at first, but she returned home to say goodbye. it was not a pleasant parting as many of the dryads judged her for giving up her connection to not only them but to the earth as well. how could she do that? how could she toss away her duty to earth who birthed her?

wishing she had simply let them think her dead, helena leaves, never to return. she grows accustomed to the silence in her head, but she cannot deny she forever feels a piece of her is gone.

[starry-bi-sky]

how do you clone a fey? that's trick question; and fey love those!

@the-navistar-carol (<333) brought up a good point while I was talking about my changeling danny au with her -- Dani! How would she exist in this au? Danny's a changeling - a fae. How would Dani, a clone of him, be created? How do you make a fey? Not through any means that Vlad is doing; you can't make a fey through unnatural means, considering the Fair Folk are nature. And Vlad's not a fey himself -- he's a halfa, even if he could make a fey, it's not in his best interest too. He's a powerful ghost, but even the weakest fae can overpower the strongest ghost. He won't want a clone of Daniel to be more powerful than him.

(In a three tier hierarchy it goes Ancients -> Fae/Mythos -> Ghosts. They all live in the Infinite Realms, but on different Planes. The fae live above the Ghost Zone in the Fey Wild, while the Mythos live beside the Wilds or down in the ghost zone depending on where they are. Places like the Frozone, the Athens Acropolis, and other such large islands climb throughout all three Planes.)

(While Ghosts can travel into the Fey Wild, its generally advised against as the ectoplasm tends to manifest differently there due to close contact magic. It can make it rather disorientating for a ghost, and as human spirits, the Fae living there would jump them faster than they could blink. So unless you're willing to play mind games with 'steal thy name eat thy face' fae, most ghosts keep out of the way of the Wilds. Fey can travel down into the Ghost Zone, they just don't bother.)

That's of course, not taking into account if Vlad even knows Danny's a fae himself. Vlad doesn't ring me as someone who really cares much about ghost culture or the going ons of the GZ. He might be aware that fae exist, but the moment he realizes he can't use them for personal gain he just doesn't bother with them. The risk is greater than the reward, and he'd rather not get eaten. But lets assume he's aware by now that Danny is fey, and has to take that into account while cloning him.

So, how does Dani exist? Good question! Honestly; i'm not sure. She might not exist at all, or if she does, she's more halfa than fey. Vlad would need a lot of human dna and ectoplasm to balance out all that fae magic. He manages to steal DNA from Jack and Maddie to do it, and since Jack's fey ancestry is very dormant its much easier to use alongside Danny's DNA.

In turn, it results in a little girl whose more human-ghost hybrid than clone. With that little extra boost in fey magic making her not a fey, but still relatively powerful. Dani is less of a clone and more of a lab-grown little sister. It's a rather tedious, complex process that has Vlad tearing his hair out trying to figure out. But he does eventually figure it out.

[hier--soir]

a lover's pinch | one

joel miller x f!reader

pairing: professor!joel miller x f!reader rating: explicit, 18+ minors dni summary: a one-night stand with a charming texan turns into something much more thrilling when you discover he is your new college professor. warnings/tags: au, age gap [20 something years diff], alcohol consumption, irrational sexual tension, smut, sex in a public place w/ a stranger [and i'm talking depraved/zero time wasted/known you for thirty minutes type strangers], oral [f receiving], protected piv, rough sex, dirty talk, a spot of degradation + misogynistic language, a split second of soft!joel, you get the picture word count: 5.9k series masterlist | main masterlist a/n: my friends.... oh boy, oh boy. this series is a complete au, self-indulgent, fantasy land idea that has plagued me for weeks. horny academic brain rot to the highest degree. hope some of you enjoy it with me x

Friday.

You sit with three almost strangers.

Listen to them talk about their summers and their families and their degrees as you twirl a straw around your half-empty glass, disrupting the melting ice as you try to wrap your head around what a master’s in environmental engineering might entail. One of them, the only man at the table, takes great pleasure in explaining it to you all for the second time. You take mental notes and hope he’s not expecting you to remember words like sparging and leachate.

They do ask you about your undergrad, and your internship, nodding and smiling curiously. They don’t ask what type of job you plan on getting after your postgrad, which is a welcome relief. The bombardment of questions from immediate and extended family is enough.

Cousins wondering aloud, saying you study Greek mythology, right?

Or your grandfather, before he died, berating you ad nauseam at family events about what’re you gonna do, kid? Be a historian? There’s no money in being a historian. Now, being a lawyer, that’s where the money is.

And you’d respond no, not quite Greek mythology, and no, I don’t plan on being a historian, as you gorge yourself on red wine and triscuits and wait for Christmas to end.

Thankfully you aren’t expected to rehash these scenarios with your almost strangers, who routinely ask a few well-mannered questions and then go back to talking about themselves.

After a week of living with them, in a new house, and a new city, you’re becoming used to their company. The way the four of you commune lazily in the kitchen most mornings, swathed in the light streaming through a window above the sink, making idle small talk as you wait for coffee to brew. How Pete and Trin study opposite each other at the dining table, while Nora prefers to spread her limbs across the couch, laptop balanced precariously on her stomach. She’s doing her master’s in education, which she describes as an expensive way to get a pay rise. She’s kind, with wild curly hair and dark humour, and is easily your favourite of your new roommates.

It was her idea to go out that night. One last hurrah, she’d called it. Before we enter the final circle of academic hell next week. And between four overworked, already burnt-out, twenty-something students, it hadn’t taken much convincing before you were sharing three bottles of wine and hightailing it to the bar with the highest Yelp rating.

The late August air is dry; a faint warmth that follows you into a quaint bar in downtown Biddeford. The space is small and crowded with patrons, with dim overhead lighting that casts a soft glow across the booth you’re crammed into. A thin sheen of sweat coats your skin, and your shirt sticks to your back uncomfortably. The others seem unbothered by the heat, nursing sweaty glasses and discussing how different Maine is from where they all grew up. You involve yourself here and there, offering up stories about your family and friends from back home, and suddenly an hour has passed, and then another, and you’re pleasantly tipsy, body humming as alcohol spreads its way through your veins, and your latest drink is practically empty, spare a few melting ice cubes.

“I need another drink,” you tell Nora, who nods absently before turning her attention back to the others.

You wander toward the bar, fumbling for your phone as you go. Fall in between two leather cushioned stools and rest your elbows atop the sleek wooden counter. Check your bank account and mentally traverse the list of reasons for returning to student-life when you see the number staring back at you. I don’t want to be a lawyer, I don’t want to be a lawyer, I don’t want to be a lawyer, your internal monologue runs, although you could admit how sweet a solicitor’s pay check would feel right now.

It’s a low, Southern drawl that pulls you from your reverie.

“Mind if I sit here?”

Deep. With a rough, lilting quality that piques your interest and has your eyes drifting upward from your phone screen.

You notice his body first; a tall frame with thick arms, thick shoulders, thick neck. A navy-blue t-shirt that stretches thin around his biceps, hugging the tan skin there. And then you look higher, and—oh.

Your heart stutters a beat out of time as you take in his face. Loose brown curls that are just long enough to hang across his forehead. Dark, almond-shaped brown eyes. So dark they almost appear black on the first glance. The strong nose and dark hair across his jaw, dappled with streaks of grey. A moustache resting atop a set of dark pink lips. Gone are thoughts of academia, of bank accounts, of your almost strangers. All replaced in an instant by wanton, pulsating desire.

Something like surprise cuts across his face, but it disappears just as quickly. In a far recess of your brain, you register that he must be at least twenty years older than you. You wilfully ignore the thought, perfectly content to continue admiring him.

A dark eyebrow ticks upward then, and you realise you haven’t responded.

“No,” you rush, flashing him a quick smile. “All yours.”

He gives you a pleased nod, a hint of a smirk passing over his lips as he sits down. He looks vaguely uncomfortable perched on the tall chair, all six-foot-something of him cramped onto such a small cushion. You cast a single glance back towards the booth, and then slip onto the stool beside him.

Silence descends between you for a moment. A song by The Eagles plays faintly, but you can’t figure which one - too distracted to make out the lyrics. You take a careful sip of the melted ice at the bottom of your glass, taste the last remnants of tequila in it, and watch him out of the corner of your eye.

“’m Joel,” that accent rings again, sending a volt of warmth through your chest.

You tell him your name, fingers fiddling with the hem of your skirt. If he notices the tension in your posture, he doesn’t let on. “You a Southern man, Joel?” The name feels warm on your tongue. Soft and silken like honey.

“S’it that obvious?” he grins crookedly, pink lips tearing back to reveal a straight white smile.

“An accent like that is hard to ignore,” you smirk. “It’s not a bad thing.”

‘Thought it would fade a little since I moved here,” he explains. “Y'can take the man outta Texas, but… you know.”

You hum, eyes alight as you watch him speak. His mouth is beautiful, lips parting around prolonged vowels.

“You here alone?” he asks.

“No,” you say. “With friends.”

“Let me guess,” Joel tilts his body, glancing around the bar. His shirt shifts with the movement, hem raising to reveal the slightest hint of a soft, tanned stomach. He points somewhere over your shoulder. You shut your mouth, careful not to gawp. “Them.”

You turn, a soft laugh of surprise bubbling up through your chest when you spy the bachelorette party set up across the bar. Women dressed in gaudy shades of pink. One of them with a sash—reading Jenny’s Big Day—across her chest, a short veil pinned to her head, and an empty champagne glass clutched in her fist. One of them teary-eyed, gripping the bride’s arm and yelling something in her ear, sloshing champagne onto herself all the while.

“You got me,” you turn back to him with a grin. Hold your hands up in mock surrender. “I wouldn’t be caught dead missing Jennifer’s last night as a free woman.”

The corners of his eyes crease, entire face blossoming into a smile now. He has a dimple on his right cheek.

“Knew you were a good girl,” he nods. Says the words in a matter-of-fact tone. Something twists in your stomach, and your palms dampen. You wet your lips quickly and don’t back down from his gaze, allowing the corner of your mouth to kick up a little.

“And you?”

His eyebrows raise in a silent question.

“Who’re you here with?” you clarify.

“Just you, darlin’,” he says, left eye dropping in a quick wink.

It's easy with him, you find, and the two of you sit there for a while; exchanging small talk about Maine, the hot weather, the music at the bar, slipping in flirtatious comments that are about as subtle as a neon sign, until he finally spies the empty glass in your hand.

“What are you drinkin’?” he asks.  

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you say, hoping it doesn’t come across too eager. He seems pleased though. There’s something provocative to his gaze, a teasing warmth that raises the temperature of your skin wherever he looks. But whatever it is, it’s gone by the time he reaches across the bar for the bound beverage list.

He peers at the menu, squinting ever-so-slightly to see through the dim lighting of the bar. The skin beside his eyes is soft and creased with age, crow’s feet that hint at years of laughter and smiles. You wonder again how old he is. How much older than you.

“Forget your glasses?” you tease, testing the waters.

Joel’s eyes flash up to yours. The muscle in his jaw ticks.

“Watch it,” he says. There’s a playful note in his voice, but it rings deeper somehow—a hint of a warning.   

Your thighs squeeze together on the stool, warm sweaty skin peeling off the tacky leather as you move. His eyes dart to the bare skin of your legs, and then back to the menu.

He orders you both a whiskey, and a moment later the bartender is sliding a crystal tumbler in front of you. A finger of amber liquid with a single grandiose sphere of ice resting in it. Fancy.

“Cheers,” he holds his glass out. You knock yours against it gently before taking a short sip, fighting a grimace as it burns down your throat.

He watches your face closely, tries to gage your reaction. You take another sip, holding strong in your efforts to show him that you can handle it. Whatever he wants to give to you, you can handle.

“So what brings you here?” he asks. You notice how large the glass feels in your palm, and how small it appears in his. Long, thick fingers wrap around the object, dwarfing it. He takes a sip, and you watch him swallow. His Adam’s apple bobs, and you want to graze your teeth across it.

“To the bar or to Maine?”

“Either.”

“Well, I just moved into town last week, from the West Coast. It’s actually my first week back in the US; I was travelling before the big move.”

“Busy girl,” his tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth. You blink. “Travellin’?”

“I was in Greece,” you explain, sip your whiskey and definitely don’t grimace at the harsh taste. “For a month or so.”

“A month in Greece?” His eyebrows raise and he does a low, impressed whistle that has your stare zeroing in on his mouth.

“Ever been?” you ask faintly.

“No,” his reply is swift. “Never had much interest.”

And you’re nodding absentmindedly, but you can’t seem to drag your stare away from his mouth as he speaks. The trance is only broken when he raises his glass for another sip, and you shake yourself out of it, eyes shifting to stare into his brown orbs once more. They’re darker than you remembered, gaze loaded as he looks back at you. The tension was palpable when you first sat together, but now it feels impossible to ignore; an electric tangle of wire between the two of you that just keeps getting shorter and shorter. And you think, fuck it, if you’re about to descend into the final circle of academic hell, why not have a little fun?

“Can I tell you something, Joel?”

You say it softly, make your voice as sultry as possible. He watches you over the rim of his glass, eyes sparkling with intrigue. And then his mouth tilts into a sort of knowing smirk, and he’s nodding.

“I’d really like to kiss you,” you confess.

He hums, smirk broadening.

Sets his glass down on the bar top with a soft clink, and then lowers his hand to the bare skin of your knee. You gasp at the contact, nerves fraught. The callouses on his fingers scrape against your skin in slow, rhythmic circles, goosebumps raising in their wake. His fingers are long, and as he tenses them over you, squeezing your knee once, you see the way deep blue veins flex beneath the skin, hot blood pumping through him. Your stomach turns molten.

“Is that all?” he asks, a taunting lilt to his voice.

Your mouth is dry, eyes wide as you sense the proposition in his words. The hint of something darker—something greedy—in his gaze.

“No,” you say definitively. “That’s not all.”

A sharp tut escapes his mouth, fingertips dragging higher on your leg as he shakes his head. “Do you have any idea how old I am?”

“Don’t look a day over forty,” you hazard a guess, resting your shoe onto the rung of his stool, using the leverage to drag yours closer. Both your legs are between his now, thighs bracketing thighs. The denim of his jeans scrapes against your outer thighs, and you shiver. His hand pauses, fingertips just shy of the hem of your skirt.

Joel wets his lips. “Guess again, sweetheart.”

A low heat licks at the base of your spine, spreading its way through your veins until you feel like you could combust at any given moment. Fuck it.

“Don’t care,” you mutter, and drape your hand over his. You trace your nails over his skin, feel how the bones shift underneath it, how warm he is. He still doesn’t move, face pensive as he regards you. You arch an eyebrow. “You approached me, you know.”

His lips purse tightly. Another squeeze to your thigh, fingers moving again. “I know.”

Driven by boldness, by arcane desire, by animalistic instinct, you lean forward on your barstool and rest your hands atop the thick expanse of his thighs. Hear his breath kick as your nose traces the side of his square jaw, lips settling at the shell of his ear. Right at the soft, sloping crest of his neck. And you whisper those same words again, quiet enough that no one in the world can hear it but him, can I tell you something? 

Your movement drove his hand higher on your thigh, the heavy weight of it now settled beneath your skirt, fingertips skimming the indent where your leg meets your hip, toying at the soft fabric of your underwear there. Painfully close to where you want him.

“Yes,” his deep voice rumbles.

Ever so slowly, your tongue slides out of your mouth to trail against his earlobe. Joel’s thighs tense beneath your palms, and you roll the balls of your thumbs against the muscles there.

“I want to kiss you,” you murmur. “So I’m going to. And then I want you to fuck me, just like I know you want to.” Your teeth graze his lobe, and you bite it once, gently, before rearing your face back to peer at him. “Hmm?”

The muscle in his jaw jumps, shifting beneath the skin, and instead of responding verbally he cups your face with a rough hand. Cool drops of condensation from the glass have stuck to his fingers, and the liquid smears across your skin as he cradles your jaw and draws your mouth to his.

Soft lips envelop yours, the coarse hairs of his moustache tickling your face as he steals the breath from your lungs. And when you lick into his mouth you can taste peppermint on his teeth, and then that oh so familiar whiskey tang across his tongue. You don’t mind the taste so much when it’s on his lips.

You nuzzle closer, dig your fingertips firmer into his thighs and grin when a deep groan falls from his mouth into yours. Wet heat pools between your thighs, liquid fire that stokes at your insides, begging for more more more of him. And, as if he can read your mind, Joel is dragging his mouth away, teeth grazing against your swollen bottom lip as he departs.

“Bathroom,” he says, voice low and commanding. “Now.”

Shock and excitement lace your blood, the proposition of something so dirty, so lewd, making your heart race. With your pulse a dull, thrashing roar in your ears, you allow Joel to help you down from your stool. Your legs feel unsteady now that you’re back on solid ground. Gripping your hand, dwarfing it in his, Joel tugs you away from the bar top and towards an obscured hallway. You amble past the bachelorette party, down the dark hall and then he’s pressing a dark hand against the ambulant bathroom door and dragging you inside, sliding the lock shut behind you.

Joel’s on you in a second, arms bracketing you against the door as his wet mouth slips over yours. His hands are so big, all wide palms and long fingers splaying across the entirety of your back, tucking you against his solid chest. He bunches your shirt in his hand, twisting the material between his fingers as he pushes into your mouth. Tongue hot and wet, gliding against your teeth, your tongue, tasting you, devouring you. there’s nothing polite about it. No more wariness, no more hesitation, no more eyes that could see the two of you at the bar. He’s insatiable, touching you everywhere he possibly can, and even then it doesn’t seem like enough for him.

“Fuck, I want you,” you say against his mouth. He makes a low sound in response, and one of his palms lower to grab a handful of your ass, dragging your hips against his. You can feel him, hot and hard, straining in the confines of his jeans. Your hand presses into the crevice between your bodies to palm him through the material, grinning into the kiss when he groans. His lips trail a slick path across your cheek, past your jaw.

“Gonna let me fuck you here?” his hot breath fans across your neck, tongue darting out to taste the salty sweat there.

“Yeah,” you say. “Fuck—yes.”

He steps back, dragging you with him, and then he’s turning you around so that you’re facing the mirror. Your hips dig into the sink, and he’s holding you there, forcing you to stare at your reflection as he bites and licks and sucks down your neck with reckless abandon, leaving marks in his wake. There’s a low, steady throbbing at the apex of your thighs, and you can feel how your underwear clings to your skin, damp and ruined. You whimper, tilt your chin up to give him access to more skin. He grinds against your ass in response, and then he’s crouching down on the ground behind you.

Fast hands push your skirt up over your hips and then flare across your ass, massaging the flesh there. You feel a nip of teeth against the sensitive skin there and flinch into the porcelain. He makes quick work of dragging your underwear down to dangle precariously at your knees. And then long fingers are spreading you apart, revealing you to him. You tilt your hips back so he can see more. Moan at the sensation of cool air rushing to meet your dripping core.

You think you can hear him speaking, but can’t be sure over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and the low music playing in the bar. And then it doesn’t matter anymore, because you can feel his hot tongue glide through your folds, parting you like the sea. He buries his face in you, nose nudging against your asshole as his tongue swipes at your clit, moaning roughly as he absorbs the taste of you. You’re gasping, hooded eyes staring back at you in the mirror, and this time you can definitely hear him saying you’re so fuckin’ wet. The flat of his tongue smears from your clit to your entrance, and then he’s sinking it inside you. You reach behind your back and card your fingers through his hair, gripping the salt and pepper curls between your fingers and holding him against you. Joel doesn’t complain, groaning as you tug on his locks in encouragement, in fucking desperation.

Your thighs tremble where they bracket his head, threatening to squeeze around him at any moment if it weren’t for his vice grip keeping your spread apart. A choked sob of a moan claws its way out of your throat and then he’s standing again, chest against your back as you hear the clink of his belt coming undone, and he’s saying, I know, I know, you need it so bad, don’t you?

Your hand skirts around the firm sink and slips between your thighs, fingertips ghosting over your throbbing clit. The sound of foil crinkling echoes around the room, and you hear him exhale a ragged sigh as he rolls the condom down his length. You peek over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him, eyes widening as you take in the sheer size of his length. It’s long, with a prominent vein running from base to tip. It pulses, raging beneath the skin, practically daring you to drop down and run your tongue along the length of it. And you would if you thought he’d let you.

“Shit,” you breathe, skin tingling with a fresh wave of nerves and anticipation.

“It’s alright,” his voice is a low rasp, filling your ears like molasses, and his hand is rising to push stray hairs out of your face. “So fuckin’ wet f’me, I know you can take it, honey. You gonna show me how good you take co—”

He cuts himself off, eyes narrowing as he spots your fingers shifting between your thighs.

“So impatient,” he smacks your hand away with a grunt. “Silly little slut, can’t wait just a minute for me?”

A broken moan falls from your lips, shameful heat soaring through your chest. You shouldn’t love the way that word sounds falling from his lips, shouldn’t be so turned on by it, but you can feel how the ache in your core intensifies, and so you push your hips back against him.

“’m sorry,” you whine pitifully.

“You want it that bad?” Joel asks. His lips brush your earlobe as he nudges the thick head of his cock between your folds, gliding it through your slick once, twice, before notching himself at your entrance.

“I want it,” you gasp. “Wanted it from the second I saw you, Joel, please, pleas—”

Joel curses under his breath and loops a hand around your front, pushing the neckline of your shirt down to reveal your left breast. He slips his palm underneath the cup of your bra, long fingers pinching at the peaked bud of your nipple. Your skin burns under the attention, and you push your chest further into his hold.

“Shit,” he grunts, beginning to press himself inside. “I wanna fuckin’—wreck you, sweetheart.” 

“Whatever you want,” you’re pleading, arching your back for him. Your fingers tighten around porcelain, bracing yourself. “Give it to me.”

You hear a muted, dark chuckle before Joel says, “Whatever I want, huh?”

And then he’s pressing inside you with a single, harsh thrust. His thighs come flush with yours and you gasp, face twisting at the sharp sting. The weight of him inside you is heavy, and you squirm at the intrusion, shifting on your feet. He allows you a moment—just a moment—to adjust to him, before he’s moving.

Joel finds a pace he likes and sets it. Heavy, unrelenting, expert rolls of his hips that have his tip brushing against the opening of your cervix with every shift forward. The air fills with harsh sounds of skin smacking against skin, and stilted moans and spilling from your lips as your hipbones collide rhythmically with the sink.

“Christ,” he spits, hand leaving your breast to grip your jaw. He forces your face forward, pace never slowing. “Fuckin’ look at you.”

You do as your told, gazing at yourself in the mirror. And you look wrecked. Hair a wild halo around your head, makeup smudged around your eyes and mouth, lips swollen and shiny with spit.

“Bein’ so���fuckin’—good,” he punctuates the words with his thrusts. His thumb digs into your cheek, and you can see him grinning in the mirror, lips peeled back to reveal that fucking perfect smile. “Dirty little thing, lettin’ a stranger fuck you like this.”

You mewl in response, stomach tensing as his cock grazes a particularly sensitive spot within you. Joel notices and seizes your waist, one hand holding you in place and the other falling to rub your clit while he pistons into you from behind.

“Shit,” you cry, eyes pinching shut as the intense medley of pleasure and pain begins to overwhelm you. Your orgasm claws its way up your chest.

“Yeah, you like that, huh?” he’s panting. “Can you feel you squeezin’ me, sweetheart. Go on, give it t’me, show me how wet that pretty pussy gets when you come.”

“Oh, fuck, oh—oh god, Joel.”

Your lungs feel empty, chest on fire as you rake in rapid breaths. Your entire body is constricting, muscles in your stomach drawn tight as you press firmer against the sink, thighs shaking with every impact of his hips against the plush of your ass. The pressure makes your head spin. And then something in the base of your spine snaps, and you’re falling apart in his grasp. Joel curses behind you, but the sound is faint, almost inaudible over the ringing in your ears. Your vision goes white, body shifting forward as he fucks you through the high.

And even as you begin to come down, muscles going lax and body slumping against the sink, Joel is relentless. He uses you; gripping your hips to keep them tilted at the perfect angle, and just fucking wrecks you, exactly like he said he wanted to. A stream of profanities fill the air as his movements become disjointed, and you know he’s close. Can feel the way his cock twitches inside you, desperate for release. You tilt your face to the side and stare at him over your shoulder. Those dark eyes meet yours and his face crumbles, hand reaching to grip your shoulder and hold you down as he nears the precipice. You rut your ass back against him and he almost shouts.

“Fuck,” he growls. “That’s it, that’s it..”

And then he’s coming, cock jerking inside you in sporadic movements, and you’re wishing he hadn’t worn a condom so you could feel the heat of him spread inside your cunt. It’s intense, the yearning you feel to have him dripping out of you once he’s gone. But you settle for watching his face through bleary eyes, admiring the way his lips part and chin tilts towards the ceiling, eyes pinching closed as his body convulses against you. 

For an all too brief moment, Joel doesn’t move. He slumps against your back, forehead resting in the gap between your shoulder blades, and just breathes. Haggard, drawn out exhales that send whisps of your hair flying forward into your face but you don’t care, too blissed out and relaxed underneath his weight to say anything. And then he’s straightening, and you gasp in unison as he grips your waist and slips out of you. There’s a determined ache between your thighs, pussy clenching around his absence, missing the weight of him already.

You sag onto the cold surface. Your mind is a blur, senses dulled from the intensity of your orgasm. The music in the bar has increased, and you imagine that your roommates must be wondering where you are, but can’t bring yourself to care all that much. You can hear him throw the condom into the trash, then there’s a low rustling as he drags his boxers and jeans back up his legs. Body trembling, you close your eyes and wait. Wait to hear the door open and close as he steps out, and leaves you in the bathroom alone, as you know he inevitably will.

But instead, you feel those hands, almost familiar now, grazing your back. They drag your panties back up and smooth your rumpled skirt down over your ass.

“Hey,” a soothing voice murmurs. “You good?”

You peer at him over your shoulder, uncontained surprise no doubt evident in your face. Joel’s expression is soft; cautious. He grips your shoulder and pulls you up, straightening your body. Drags a thumb over the corner of your mouth, wiping away the lipstick smudged there. His touches are so gentle, so tender, in comparison to a few moments ago. It almost gives you whiplash, and yet you find yourself melting under his gaze, because fuck, he’s handsome. 

“I’m good,” you breathe, and he bares his teeth in a smile, cupping your jaw.

“Sweet girl,” Joel says. His head shakes once, slowly, eyes darting across your features, as if trying to memorise them. “I’m gonna remember this.”

You heart is in your throat all over again.

Your fingers fumble to adjust your top, smoothing it out as you smile, humming, “Yeah… yeah, I think I will too.”

A heady silence swells between you. His thumb brushes along your lower lip again, eyes watching the way your swollen mouth yields to his touch. The tip of your tongue slides out and glides over the tip of his digit, just for a second.

“Probably got your friends all worried,” Joel says then, hand dropping to his side. “Must be wonderin’ where you got to.”

You swallow down the disappointment you feel. It burns its way down your throat and into your stomach, not unlike the whiskey had. I don’t care, you want to say. Take me home with you. But you nod and agree. Glance in the mirror and rake numb fingers through bird’s nest hair, trying to tame your wild appearance. You swear you feel his hand graze the hem of your skirt one last time, playing with the soft material while he stares at you in the mirror.

The bubble pops as he unlocks the door, outside sounds rushing in through the gap, infiltrating the space that once smelt like sex and lust and now just feels like any other room. Joel doesn’t kiss you again. Doesn’t touch you. He steps into the hall, and you follow him out. And when he trails toward one side of the bar, with a final lingering glance at you over his shoulder, you begrudgingly head in the opposite direction to the booth, where your almost strangers await you with curious eyes and pinched brows.

Tuesday.

You feel hungover on the day of your first lecture.

A dull ache blossoms behind your left eye, a persistent reminder of how little sleep you had the night before. Your fingers wrap tightly around a tall styrofoam cup, and you take slow mouthfuls of the black coffee inside, attempting to savour the liquid gold, and letting the caffeine act as a saving grace for as long as possible.

You were normally so much better than this, too. Years had passed since your undergrad, and in the past you’d prided yourself on being punctual and prepared. But apparently one of the professors for this semester had it out for you, because when the required weekly prep work for your 9 o’clock Tuesday morning lecture was released the day prior, you were stunned to find that it included an entire fucking book.

After spending a dutiful two hours going over the weekly notes and required journal articles, you’d found yourself glaring at three sentences, written casually at the bottom of the professor’s notes.

Also, read Hesiod’s ‘Theogony’. It will do you well to have these ideas and themes fresh as you undertake the first weeks of this class. See you tomorrow.

Cue you staying up until two am reading fucking Theogony, and walking to your first lecture with a near-permanent yawn sprawled across your face.  

As you approach history commons, a guy wearing a bottle green shirt that reads UNIVERSITY OF NEW ENGLAND in garish gold lettering shakes a pamphlet in your direction. It has a picture of a girl in a tiny athletic uniform on the front, preparing to spike a volleyball. You avoid eye contact and sidestep him quickly, continuing into the building.

The theatre room is easy enough to find.

Thirty odd chairs line the space on an incline, all facing toward a desk at the front of the room. A projector hangs from the ceiling, displaying the beginning of a slide show on a white wall. The slide is a muted beige colour, with stark black lettering that spells out: The Language and Literature of the Odyssey and the Aeneid.

Your professor stands with his back to the room, shuffling through a myriad of notebooks and loose-leaf pages splayed across the desk. Standard.

You traipse your way up the stairs, buoyed along by the steady stream of other students shuffling into the room, and take a seat a few rows from the front. Not too far back that you seem disinterested, and not so close that your professor will notice you falling asleep on the first day.

You open your notes on your laptop and then slump back into your chair, slurping down the final morsels of coffee in your cup before discarding it to the floor by your feet. And then the room quietens as a final group of students file in, heavy door swinging closed behind them, and you allow your eyes to rest upon the man at the foot of the space.

He’s tall. It’s impossible not to notice that first. Tall and broad. A thin white dress shirt stretches across the arch of his back, fighting to pull free from where it’s tucked neatly into the waist of his brown pants. From where you’re seated, you can see a dark head of hair shaking side to side every few moments, the man muttering inaudibly as he peers down at his notes.

You glance down at your laptop again. Watch your cursor blink against the white screen. And then you hear it.

“Alright folks,” an all too familiar voice drawls. “Let’s get down to it.”

You stiffen in your chair. The hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, palms going damp as a memory flits through your brain. One of your own voice.

An accent like that is hard to ignore.

You can’t make out what he’s saying anymore, every word overpowered by the sudden roar of your own heartbeat in your ears.

Slowly—so fucking slowly—you peel your eyes away from your laptop and glance upward.

And there he is, in all his glory. Pearly white smile. Strong jaw. Dark eyes.

Joel… your professor.

Fuck.  

thank you for reading!! x

[lustlovehart]

Caught In Her Web

A/n: I love women

Summary: [Yandere] Dinner never seems to go right with Kafka

Warnings: Toxic date, memory erasure, unwanted touching, unconscious kiss

Her gloved fingers tap against the wooden table, every sound only increasing the tension through the room.

"Hm? Oh, don't look at me like that, I'm not gonna eat you dear."

At this rate, you wouldn't doubt if she did take a bite out of you.

"Kafka, quit this, what do you need from me this time?"

"Don't be so heartless [Name], maybe I just wanted to have dinner with my favorite person through the universe's."

"Cut it out."

"I'm not messing with you," her leather covered hands slowly make their way into your own, both palms caging your own in hers as she makes heavy contact into your soul. "Let's just eat shall we?"

You don't reply, only looking hesitantly at your hand covered by her malice.

You knew of the existence of scripts, she never hid information from you. Whatever information she did withhold probably would’ve been stuff you wouldn’t wanna know anyway.

The food laid between you two, the steam floating off it being very visible, yet Kafkas eyes completely overshadow them, rather than being drawn to the appetizers your focus is entirely on her, you don't look into her eyes, but just staring at her gloved hands is enough.

She has that effect on people you assume.

Her left hand plays with your arm, the digits of her limb playful crawling up your skin until they catch onto your chin, forcing you to finally look at her.

"You know darling, it's common coutersy to look at someone when you talk to them is it not?"

"I'm not gonna look at you."

Her fingers quickly release you from her hold, a playful 'hm' leaving her lips as she takes a fork and, somehow, makes stabbing a steak look both violent and elegant at the same time.

"Fine, be that way, the least you could do is let me feed you."

"I doubt you'd give me a choice."

"Hm, you're smart, good," the knife cuts through the meat, her utensil slowly lifting it to your mouth, her lips telling you to say 'ahh'. "Be careful dear, it's hot."

You don't give her the satisfaction of listening to her, despite the heat of the food radiating off of it, you don't blow. You'd rather burn your tongue than make this criminal happy with you.

You were right, your mouth is in so much pain. You try to keep your face neutral, but you can't help letting a little of the pain escape.

"See, I told you it was hot. I just praised you too."

You swallowed, it hurt like hell, but you swallowed. You're sure if it wasn't boiling it would've been delicious, but what's done is done.

"Try to at least enjoy our dinner, this will be the last time I see you for a while"

"Hm, maybe you're right, that does sound like something to celebrate."

"Oh, so you're only witty when it comes to remarks against me?"

"Was that not obvious?"

"You wound me [Name]" she looked down at the food again, instead of giving you more she only sighs and pushes the plate to the side. "Seems the dinner plans fell through. That's okay, Elio saw it coming."

"So even your 'heartfelt' dinner was apart of the script."

"Not all of it, we were just meant to sit at table filled with food, that wasn't apart of the plan."

"So you decided toying with me would be funner?"

"Playing with anyone is enjoyable to me, it's just nicer when it's you." She smiles after her words. Just that, a closed lip smile at you.

You look at the clock she had set up, it felt more like a countdown than a way to keep track of time. 3 hours left, that's too long for you.

"What, so you added your flirtations into this dinner?"

The more you think, 3 hours left till what?

"Hm, I did, is there problem? I don't think I hide my liking towards you."

Your brain can't remember what it was you were waiting for. It's like the memory of what waited for you at the end wasn't there anymore.

"You don't, but I wish you did."

Keep... Date... As long... Possible...

She leans across the table, her lips ghosting over your earlobe, a deep laugh escaping from her throat.

"How will I express my adoration for you then?" Her whisper came out teasing, yet if you looked past that, you can hear her underlying annoyance slip through the cracks. "Perhaps lock you in a golden cage like an innocent bird? Or should I do like a spider and trap you in my web." You sit still, not daring to move.

"Jokes of course, though, I would like for you to stay with me."

Feint words of broken memories invade your head, beating like some painful headache.

"Once this is over, you'll be different. It's sad I won't be able to keep the [Name] I cherish, but it's the price we have to pay for the script. These last moments will be what I'll have left of you, so I hope we can enjoy it together.

The whispers felt familiar, like you've been through it before. Spirit Whsiperer...

"Now, can we please enjoy this last meal of peace before it changes ?"

Your hands grab onto her as you push her to her side of the table. Your breaths were heavy once you remembered the situation the damned clock. Looking back at the time, how could time go by so quickly?

1 hour left.

"Don't try using that shit on me Kafka. It was 3 hours left 10 minutes ago how the hell could that be."

"That's the [Name] I like to see." She doesn't answer you, not a single question. While you frantically shake her.

"I told you myelf, I really do enjoy messing with you." Her hands aren't gloved anymore. The leather long being discarded, her fingers slowly reach up to your cheek pulling you closer to her face.

Her fingers are cold, like a corpse. You don't shiver though. Her touch is the most undisturbing part about her. It's what makes her so horrifying.

"Times up dear." Her thumb ghosts over your lips, gently placing her digit on you. She stand up from her seat, being eye to eye to yourself, her other hand placing itself on your waist, seemingly pulling you closer.

"Boom."

Your vision blacks as your head falls forward, the last thing you remember being the soft feeling of your face resting on her shoulder. Ice cold fingers are left stroking your head as the sound of a door opens.

"At the end of the day," Though you're out cold, deep down she wishes you can feel the way her freezing lips place a chaste kiss on your own. "I'm a selfish woman."

------

A dim light is all your blurred vision can see, the sound of a feint hum ringing through the empty space as well. Your head is rested on what feels to be someone's thighs, whoever it is must be the one rubbing circles into your chest, more specifically, the area where a heart would be.

It's not beating. Your hearts not working.

"You're awake." Your eyes clear as you look up at the woman smiling from above. She's beautiful.

She's familar.

"Do you remember me?"

"..."

She waits.

"Do you like me?"

“I…”

She doesn’t say anymore, only tracing patterns into your skin as she waits, that unwavering smile still on her face. The lights grow darker. You don’t hear a throbbing in your ears, something someone with a heart would hear in distress. You don’t have that anymore. Well, maybe not anymore, you can’t remember if you ever did have one.

“Who are you?”

——

[ariaste]

A Discussion on Book Endings

Hey, friends. Thanks for coming today. I'm sorry to break it to you, but this is an intervention. Please, don't get defensive -- everyone here loves you and cares about you. But listen... I'm gonna need book readers and reviewers to reflect on the idea that finishing a book and going "Oh, I loved it so much, but I wish it was just a few pages longer!" is not really a valid point of negative critique in the assessment of a text.

Let me explain.

When I read people's otherwise wildly positive reviews of books and they say that line, I don't interpret it in context as, "This story needed to be a few pages longer for the plot to work, structurally, and for the ending to achieve a solid resolution." Rather, they basically seem to be saying simply, "I loved it and I didn't want it to end." That's always a GREAT feeling, but then they're.... taking points off from their total rating because of that??? They seem to be penalizing the author because they weren't left with a feeling of "Ugh, thank god it's over"? It's like, "This would have been five stars if it had had just one more chapter but it made me sad that it ended, so four stars" -- Guys, do we understand that's an insane take? It's insane. A book has to end. If you shriek "NO!!!" that it's over because you were having such a great time, that's... that's a symptom of a 5-star book, babes. I'm not sure why there's such a fashion these days for penalizing authors for this particular thing in this particular way, but it's really baffling to me.

But setting aside the puzzling trend of "I'm knocking points off because it ended when it should have gone on until I personally was fully bored and exhausted of it, like the 11th season of a TV show that was only supposed to go until season 4" -- listen, I guarantee you that nine times out of ten, when you're out here longing for just one more chapter or saying "this could have used an epilogue" you... are wishing for something that would have actively ruined your enjoyment and the quality of the book.

Are you a writer yourself? Have you ever finished writing a book before? Have you done it more than once? Have you deeply studied the endings of books? They are HARD, let me tell you what. Endings are so much harder than beginnings, because you're looking for that beautiful final note, like the ending of a symphony, and you're trying to ride it for a few glorious seconds before the FLOURISH and dum-dummmmmm....! and the conductor collapses as the audience bursts into applause! Right? Yes? Except that chances are that one more chapter or epilogue would ruin the pacing and resolution of the ending and muddle up the summary of the theme and thesis statement, and all of this WOULD ACTUALLY fuck up your experience of the story as a whole. For example, please consider the last Harry Potter book as an example. We all hate JKR now for being a TERF but oh, children, how quickly we forget that back in the olden times, we used to hate her for that fucking epilogue that made everything that came before feel rancid and pointless and hollow and cheap. Y'all remember how sickening and infuriating that was? Do you remember the Hunger Games epilogue? Nine times out of ten, that's what you're inexplicably wishing for.

To see this point illustrated, let's do a quick exercise together. Go pick out a piece of classical music -- some of my best suggestions for this are Beethoven's Ode to Joy, or "Der Holle Rache" from Mozart's Magic Flute, or Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. Listen to it all the way through. If you're struggling with scrolling addiction and your attention span has been severely damaged, fine, listen to the last two minutes ("Der Holle Rache" is the shortest, just 3 minutes). Then, after the song is done, click back to some random spot earlier in the piece, listen to another 30 seconds, and then stop. Consider: Did adding that last 30 seconds materially improve the piece, or did it undermine the overall emotional journey? Did it help the ending to stick the landing even more than it already did, or does it just feel weirdly stuck-on as an afterthought, like the "for more fun videos, check out the rest of our channel and don't forget to subscribe!!!" card at the end of youtube videos?

When you are wishing for an epilogue, my doves, you are wishing for something you do not actually want -- or which you probably would not want if you had the option to see it in practice and compare it side by side with the original. You are wishing for something that would more than likely make the story worse. You are holding the author at fault for something being wrong with the text only because you hit immersion and were having a lot of fun and didn't want to come back up for air. Like, I'm just not sure that's something that the author should be blamed for? It sounds like they were doing their job really well???

Please, just. Separate your feelings of "bittersweet disappointment that this wonderful book is over" from "frustration that the author didn't stick the landing, ugh what a flop" because they are two separate things. Before you say "I'm taking points off because I wish there was more", please take two seconds to ask yourself critical thinking questions like, "Why did the author choose to end the book here rather than in two more chapters?" because (other than a few wild outliers that should not be counted) the answer is never, "They got bored and just didn't feel like finishing the story." Chances are, they chose that specific ending for a reason. They ended it there because that's the point that underlines the thesis statement of the book, or because the emotions of that scene are the ones they want you to remember and walk away with, or because that marks the place where the story arc is genuinely over. When the author says, "And they all lived happily ever after," that means that what happily-ever-after looks like is in your hands now.

Nine times out of ten, you don't want one more chapter. Please. I promise you that you don't want one more chapter. The book is done; what you want now is either fanfiction or someone to talk about it with. Or maybe to start the book over from the beginning! Believe me, you would not want one more chapter if you had it. (Or, if you did have it and it magically didn't suck, you would just keep wanting more chapters because that's what "really enjoying the book" means. In which case, go read fanfic, that's what it is for.) I promise you, I promise you, the book would probably be worse with one more chapter and you would not like it as much. Please stop wishing for the author to be less good at their job. Please. A book has to end; so does this post. And we all live happily ever after*. The End.

----- * The post-canon coffeeshop AU sequel will be detailed exhaustively on AO3

[training4theapocalypse]

And they call me crazy (Adrian Chase x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: SMUT, Rough sex, Non-con elements - reader is drunk and a (very eager to fuck) hostage, Light bondage, Oral, P in V, Unprotected sex, Edging, Canon typical mentions of murder and violence

Summary: You're a new intern at Senator Goff's office. It's going great... that is until Vigilante abducts you after you've been out drinking, celebrating the end of your first week. (Based on this ask from anon.)

A/N: I'm fucking impatient as usual and I couldn't wait until Sunday to post this. I've added non-con to the warnings but honestly, reader is so desperate to fuck him she DOESN'T GIVE AF if it's morally questionable that she's a hostage.

Masterlist

Join my tag list: @likeficsinthewnd, @she-wolf09231982, @pretendfan, @lolitstiana, @chiaraanatra

Chapter text:

Your gasp is stifled when a black glove covers your mouth and an arm wraps tight around your body. You stumble on the sidewalk, teetering back in your high heels into your assailant’s body but he holds you firmly upright.

“Don’t scream,” says a man’s muffled whisper in your ear.

Your whole body freezes up. God, you wish you were more sober. Why did you insist on walking home after those celebratory drinks? This is not the perfect ending to the first week of your internship that you’d envisioned. Is this why Senator Goff didn’t turn up for work today? They said he was sick.

“I’m not gonna hurt you if you keep quiet and get in the car.”

It’s a man’s voice. Not one you recognise. But you can barely hear it anyway over how loudly your heart is beating in your chest. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, it seems to say, battering frantically against your rib cage.

“Nod if you understand me.”

You jerk your head forward - his tight grip doesn’t make the movement easy. 

God, why didn’t you listen to your Mom? She told you earlier to get a cab home and stay safe, you’d just dismissed her advice as usual because you knew best.

He removes his hand and pushes you into the open passenger door of a beat-up old Chrysler Sebring. It all happens so fast that you don’t even think to check out the license plate. 

Shit.

The man shuts the passenger door after you and hops into the driver’s seat on the other side. 

It’s him. 

You’ve seen his masked face on the news, wanted for carrying out his own brand of retributive justice on criminals across Evergreen. You heard people talking about his latest crimes at work today. Hell, you’ve even made stupid memes about having a crush on him in your girlfriend’s group chat. 

It’s Vigilante.

You were ready to beg for your life a second ago. But now all you can do is stare. At the forefront of your admittedly inebriated mind is the fact that you’ve fantasised about the masked Vigilante of Evergreen before. But in your fantasies, you’d always been someone that he’d saved from a robbery gone wrong or some other sticky situation. Not his abductee.

And this is no fantasy. He’s here - he’s real. So intimidatingly tangible and human. You can hear his breathing through his mask, see his eyes darting around your dark surroundings checking for passersby, and you can even smell the sharp, fresh scent of his cologne when he gets close to you, reaching behind you to grab a length of rope from the back seat. 

“Put your hands out.” You swallow thickly, looking at his masked face. There’s no point in arguing. “If you make any indication to anyone we pass that you’re you’re here against your will, I will kill you.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you think I’ve done but I-”

“Hey - don’t make me gag you and put you in the trunk,” he says, finishing the knot around your wrists as your stomach does a little flip. Not out of fear. Something else. He turns his keys and starts the ignition. “Oooh, seatbelt! Sorry.”

You breathe in as he reaches across you to grab your seatbelt and clip you in. Your hands sit uncomfortably on your lap as the car drives out of the dark street and onto the main road.

He pulls out his cell phone as he drives to wherever you’re going and you hear the other end of the phone ringing in the silent car.

“What is it?” You strain your ears, listening as a woman answers aggressively.

“I’ve got Goff’s assistant. I’m on my way to the video store.”

Goff’s assistant? That’s a stretch. You’re an intern. And not even Goff’s intern. You’re his assistant’s intern.

“I’m not-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Quiet!”

“What?!” says the woman on the phone.

“Sorry, Harcourt. Not you.”

“No, I mean you did what?! Vigilante, you need to run this shit by me. You can’t bring her here.”

“I did you a favour! We’re way ahead of schedule now.”

You hear the unidentified woman grumble. “We’ve got Judomaster here, dumbass. Take her someplace else.”

Goff’s funny little bodyguard. Now you know that Vigilante and the woman on the phone are responsible for Goff’s absence. Shit, what’s he going to do when he realises you know nothing?

“Where am I supposed to take her?”

“That’s what happens when you go rogue, idiot. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. She’s your problem tonight.”

You hear the line beeping as the woman hangs up.

“Fuck!” says Vigilante and he does a U-turn. “Hey, close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“I’m gonna have to take you to my place. I said close your eyes or-”

“Yeah, you’ll kill me. I got it,” you say resignedly. You close your eyes feeling the car turn left, straight for a while, right, left… you lose track. You have no idea where you are or how long it takes you to get there when finally you arrive at your destination.

You hear him get out of the car and still not daring to open your eyes, you feel the cool night air when the passenger door opens.

“Can I open my eyes?”

“Nope.”

You feel him reach over you to unclip your seatbelt and he hoists you out of the car by your upper arm. He roughly steers you across what you guess is a parking lot by the way your high heels click on the asphalt.

His vice-like grip on your arm still doesn’t relent, even when you reach the stairs.

“Not so fast - I can’t see!” And you’re still kind of drunk.

“Shh! Not here,” he whispers urgently. But his hold on you becomes more gentle as he helps you up the stairs, more slowly now. A sliver of empathy. 

The sound of keys jingle as he unlocks a door and guides you inside. You hear him locking and bolting the door behind you. Great. 

“Can I-”

“Yeah, you can open ‘em.”

You open your eyes. The small apartment is sparsely furnished, obviously decorated by a single man. No artwork on his walls, a small dining table, a clean but worn leather couch without even so much as a throw pillow.

The screech of wood on laminate makes your arm hair stand up as he pulls over a hard wooden chair into the middle of the living room.

“Sit.”

You do as you’re told. He pulls another chair over and sits down opposite you, leaning back, with his arm resting on the back of the chair. Vigilante’s intimidating form relaxes casually in front of you. 

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he tells you.

“I - do what the easy way?” You shift in your seat, squeezing your thighs together. What wouldn’t you want Vigilante to do you right now? Stop it, you scold yourself. 

“You’ve got information and I need it.”

“I really don’t have any sort of information.” 

He edges his seat closer to you, close enough that you can smell his cologne again. Fuck. “Hey, I get it. I was tortured for intel a few days ago and I didn’t crack either-”

“Torture?!” You panic now. “Look, I’m not lying - I’m not Goff’s assistant! If I knew anything I’d tell you.”

His eyes narrow behind the mask. He pulls out his phone, looking through it for something. “Shit.” Vigilante looks from his phone to you. “This isn’t you.” He holds up the screen and shows you a blurry picture of your boss walking out of the office. Sure you look alike - you have the same hair colour and both wear suits to work but she’s significantly older. 

You shake your head. 

“What were you doing coming out of the senator’s office?” He accuses, as if it’s your fault he’s kidnapped you.

“I’m an intern. It’s my first week.”

“So you work there? Right?” he asks desperately.

“I just get coffee and take notes, dude.”

He tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Oh man, Harcourt’s gonna freak out when I tell her I fucked up again. I can’t believe I picked up the wrong hostage.”

You sit, wrists still tied together in your lap staring at him. Now what? Maybe he’ll just drop you off outside the bar where the grabbed you.

“Look, we all make mistakes. It happens to the best of us. No harm done so-”

“Stop.” He looks up at you. “You know I can’t let you go.”

You take a deep breath and look at him silently for a few seconds. “So now what? Are you gonna kill me?”

“I-”

‘I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic’

Vigilante looks at his phone, apparently confused that it isn’t the source of the music. 

“It’s mine,” you sigh, embarrassed by your choice of ringtone. You try to pick your phone out of your suit pocket with tied wrists. 

“Your ringtone is Barbie Girl?” 

You nod.

He pauses, giving you an unreadable look from behind his mask before reaching into your suit pocket. “I can’t let you have this.” He declines the call. Your phone pings as a message arrives. “Someone called Melanie says ‘Your boyfriend is on the news again’,” he reads.

Fuck. Your best friend Melanie knows all about your stupid crush on the man sitting in front of you right now.

“Hey- don’t read my messages!”

“I need to know if your boyfriend is gonna come looking for you.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, I swear. She’s just making a stupid joke.” 

Your phone pings again. “She’s sent you a picture - what’s your passcode?”

“I said don’t read my messages. I’m not telling you my passcode.”

Vigilante sighs and turns your phone around to face you and your Face ID unlocks it. He freezes when he opens the image.

Oh, god.

He turns the phone back towards you again and you groan. Melanie has taken a picture of the news on her TV. Vigilante is on the screen. Shit. 

“I told you, it was just a stupid joke,” you mumble, feeling your face turning scarlet. 

“I didn’t realise you were a fan,” he says, and you can tell from the tone of his voice that he has a stupid grin under his mask. 

“Well, I’m definitely not a fan right now.” You hold up your wrists. 

“She can see you’ve opened it. What should I say back?”

“Hmm... say LOL…” He starts typing. “Call the police. I’m being held hostage.”

He deletes what he just typed and gives you a stern look. “Fine, I’ll just go through your messages and see what you said before.”

“No, wait! I was kidding!” You try to snatch the phone from his hands but his reflexes are too quick for your tied hands. He doesn’t have to scroll very far back through your messages to find what he’s looking for.

Vigilante laughs and starts reading aloud. “OMG, he is so fine… I’m just gonna say that again.” He sends the message and you hear the notification of Melanie responding almost immediately. He reads it aloud. “She says ‘Knew you’d appreciate it - wink emoji’.”

“Can you just kill me already?” you ask sarcastically.

He puts your phone in his pocket. “I’m not gonna kill you.”

“So what am I doing here then?”

“Waiting. For now.” You stare at each other for a few seconds. It’s hard not to feel like you’re in immediate danger. “Do you want a beer?”

Perhaps your life isn’t in danger.

You blink at him incredulously. He walks over to the refrigerator and returns with two beers. He opens yours and hands it to you.

“Can you untie me so I can drink it?” You ask, testing the waters.

“Are you gonna try and attack me and escape?”

You’ve never been in a fight in your entire life. There’s no way you’d be able to win in a physical altercation with him, not with his reputation for massacring criminal gangs.

“No.”

Vigilante looks you over, and you stare up at him, waiting for his assessment. “I could take you, anyway,” he says casually and puts down his beer on the coffee table so he can untie your wrists.

You feel yourself blushing again at his words. Vigilante could take you. He means in a fight. But your mind immediately thinks of him taking you in another way.

When he unties you, you rub your wrists, feeling the sweet relief of having them free again. Vigilante kicks back on the couch and gestures to the seat next to him. You move over and perch uncertainly on the cool leather. He lifts the bottle of beer, and then realising he’d need to remove his mask to drink it, puts it back down.

“You can take it off if you want,” you suggest. 

“And let you see my face? No way. I have a secret identity.”

“Well, I bet you’re handsome under there.” 

What are you doing? 

The sensible voice at the back of your mind supposes that flirting with him might convince him to free you. Another slightly louder, drunker voice in your head suggests that flirting with him might convince him to fuck you. 

He looks away, flustered. “I dunno about that...” 

“That’s why you wear that mask, right? You’re probably so good-looking you’d be easy to spot in a line-up.”

He lifts the edge of his mask - you think for a second he’s about to reveal who he is but instead, he takes a long drink of beer. You watch his sharp jaw and exposed neck as he swallows and get a brief glance at his wet lips before he pulls the fabric back down over his face again.

“That mask doesn’t do you any favours, hiding a jawline like that.”

“Stop it, okay. I know what you’re doing.” You raise your eyebrows. “You think because you’re pretty, you can seduce me into letting you go. It’s not gonna work.”

Pretty. 

You try not to smile, to keep your expression blank. You wish you could text Melanie - she’d lose her shit right now. But you’ve laid it on a bit too thick. Even though it is true - he does have a ridiculously nice lower half of his face.

“I’m just passing the time. Believe it or not, I’ve never been abducted before.” You shrug. “So what’s the plan? Stay here until your boss on the phone tells you to kill me in the morning?”

“She’s not my boss.”

“Sounds like she is.”

“I work alone. Mostly. Or with Peacemaker.”

“So let me go then. I won’t tell a soul. I promise.”

“It’s not that simple. I can’t just release a hostage.”

You think. Hard. “What if I could get you the information you need? Then I’m an accomplice. Not a hostage.”

“I thought you just got the coffee?”

“I know where my boss keeps her laptop. And her password.”

“What kind of boss tells a brand new intern her password?”

You purse your lips, wondering how much you can safely reveal to him. “She trusts me.” 

“The way you want me to trust you?”

“It’s different… I just don’t want her to get kidnapped too.”

He tilts his head. “That could work.” He hesitates. “But I’ll need to double-check with Harcourt in the morning.” He spins his bottle of beer in his hands.

“I’ll give you the laptop’s location and password if you let me see your face.”

“Uh, no. You’re giving me the location and password in exchange for letting you go.”

“This is a hostage negotiation, right?” You give him a coy smile. “Let the hostage do some negotiating.”

“No way.” He lifts the bottom of his mask up again to take another drink.

“What if I suck your dick, will you show me your face?”

Vigilante chokes on his beer.

“Jeez! I’ve already told you that you can stop coming onto me. I’ve agreed to ask Harcourt to let you go.”

“I know. I’m just shooting my shot,” you smile, resting the beer bottle on your bottom lip. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Yeah, right.” He says though you can’t help but notice the way his visor-covered eyes linger on your lips.

“Dude, you saw my messages. I’ve always wanted to bump i​​nto Vigilante. Under different circumstances, obviously.”

This intrigues him. He turns in his seat, resting on the arm of the couch to face you. “Uh, what kind of circumstances?”

“Well, if you really want to know - they’re in my texts with Melanie.”

He looks at your phone again, opens your messages and starts scrolling up. His eyes widen as he pauses, reading. “Damn…”

“Which one are you reading?”

“There’s more than one?!” His voice is higher pitched this time and you grin. “Uh… ‘I wish we’d bumped into Vigilante when those guys were harassing us leaving the club last night. He would have kicked their asses and I would have-’... Holy shit.”

He adjusts himself in his seat and you can tell he’s hard just from reading your text exchange. You tilt your beer towards him encouragingly. “You can say it.”

“...‘I would have sucked the fucking soul from his body.’ Girls say this kind of shit to each other?”

You sip your drink and say nothing.

Vigilante looks at you like you’re a piece of cake he really, really shouldn’t be thinking about eating. “It would be morally wrong for me to sleep with a hostage.” He looks into your eyes.

You edge closer to him on the couch. “Accomplice, remember? I’m not a hostage if I work with you, right?”

“Listen, you are so hot. And if I met you in real life… fuck. It would be a different story.”

“This is real life.”

“You know what I mean.”

You get on your knees and crawl over to him between his legs. He shrinks back into the corner of the couch cushions. “C’mon. I won’t tell your boss.”

He swallows nervously. “You’re making it really hard for me to say no right now.”

You run your fingers over his belt. “Say you don’t want me to and I’ll stop.” Vigilante groans. You crawl forward again and press your forehead against his masked one, looking into his visor. “Tell me you don’t want me to suck your dick,” you whisper.

“Fuck…” He breathes. “And they call me crazy.”

“Maybe you should be more careful who you let in your car.” 

His gloved hand grabs your wrist and for a second you think he’s going to make you stop but instead, he guides your hand onto the bulge through the fabric of his pants. Vigilante leans his head back, exposing a tiny glimpse of his neck between his mask and his suit. Your tongue finds the skin there, sliding across it and you feel him shiver underneath you.

It’s like he’s at your mercy now as you slowly, agonisingly slowly, undo his belt revealing the v-shape of his lower abdominal muscles covered in a smattering of brown hair. You slide your body down between his legs and kiss the trail of hair below his belly button while your hands work, unzipping his pants and pulling his boxers down.

Vigilante’s cock slaps his stomach when you release it from his boxers. Shit, you have a lot to work with. You’re already wet between your legs just from your conversation but the sight of him sprawled out in front of you - his entire body concealed with the exception of his hard cock - sends blood rushing to your pussy.

You lick your lips and the moment your tongue slides across his head, you feel his whole body tremble. 

“Holy shit,” Vigilante whispers raggedly from behind his mask. He lifts his head to watch as his length disappears into your mouth, and you look up at him with wide eyes and hollow cheeks, sucking and running your tongue along the underside of his cock. 

He grunts as you pull back to run your tongue slowly around his head again. His reaction makes your pussy ache with longing, thinking about how he’d sound with his mask off, moaning like that in your ear.

“Fuck, that’s it. Thaat’s it,” he says through gritted teeth as you find a rhythm, bobbing your head up and down. He threads his gloved hands through your hair - you think he’s going to start fucking your throat but you’re surprised when he doesn’t apply any force, letting you maintain your pace. Vigilante watches you on all fours, your ass in the air behind you as your mouth makes the wettest, sloppiest sucking sounds he’s ever heard.

Then he sees it. A glimpse of your hand under your tailored work skirt, confirming to him again that this isn’t just a ploy for early release. You’re really fucking turned on by being here, sucking his cock.

“Wait…” he whines, tugging gently at the base of your scalp. You pull back, replacing your mouth with your other hand so you can look at him. “Can I fuck you?”

You pull away and bite your lip, still pumping your hand up and down the length of his cock.

“You said you’d show me your face.” Time for your one last bargaining chip.

“I…” He hesitates, propping himself up on his elbows. “I can’t,” he pleads.

“You’ll have to cum here on your stomach then,” you grin, your wet fist picking up pace as he tenses his thighs and tries to stop his hips from jerking up into you. “If you show me your face I’ll let you cum inside me.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he groans. You stop jerking him off and watch him as he pulls his mask off, tossing it aside on the coffee table. He takes a pair of glasses out of his pocket and puts them on.

You stare at him in shock. You were mostly just teasing him earlier- you hadn’t actually expected him to be this good-looking. Sure, you knew from him drinking his beer earlier that he had a nice jawline. But even in your fantasies, he was faceless - he never had gorgeous green eyes and tousled curly hair.

“You’re hot?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. “What the fuck!?”

He smiles. And you can see it this time. It’s beautiful. He has dimples.

The intimidation you felt before when you first saw the masked killer in front of you is nothing compared to how you feel now. You practically melt, turning into putty. Feeling lightheaded you realise you’ve been holding your breath and begin making a conscious effort to breathe again. Seconds ago you were convinced he was at your mercy but now…

“Do whatever you want to me,” you say abruptly. Your underwear is flooded thinking that this man, this ridiculously beautiful killer wants to fuck you.

“Oh… I’m gonna.” He raises his eyebrows and lunges forward, pinning you to the couch and kissing your neck. His rough exterior armour digs into your chest. Your hands wander along his shoulders, trying to find the mechanism to unclip it. He feels your movements and pushes himself off of you so he can undo them himself.

You lie back, watching him remove his suit, revealing a host of white scars and purplish-yellow welts across his toned chest and abdomen. You undo the top two buttons of your blouse. 

“Nuh-uh,” he says, tossing his under armour onto the floor. You let out a yelp of surprise when he grabs the opening of your shirt and rips it open, sending buttons scattering across his floor. He pushes your bra up, not bothering to take it off to suck on your tits. 

You run your fingers through his curly hair, feeling him sloppily run his tongue over your nipple. His teeth clamp down on your breast - hard - and you squeal and yank his hair.

“Ow! Not so rough!” 

He just gives you a mischievous smirk and you release your grip when he sucks the spot gently, in a sort of silent apology. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise tomorrow - a secret souvenir of your night with the masked man from the news all your friends know you have a crush on.

But Christ, what have you let yourself in for?

Vigilante moves down your body, kissing your stomach and pulling off your skirt and underwear in a single movement, throwing them haphazardly on the floor. You gasp when his mouth returns to your body and a soft, wet heat envelopes your pussy. He drags his tongue slowly, carefully along your slit.

“Oh fuck…” you whine, arching your back. “Vigilante, I- wait, fuck, what do I call you?”

“Vigilante,” he says between achingly slow licks. Every nerve ending seems to light up, sending blissful signals to your brain.

“No, I - I mean what’s your name?”

“Vigilante.” 

God damn.

You look down and lock eyes with him, his pupils blown so wide his green eyes almost look black as he stares up at you, swirling his tongue in wide circles against your swollen clit. The entire lower half of your body tightens up and the walls of your pussy clench, desperate for something to squeeze around. His fingers, his cock - anything. 

You reach down to find his large, gloved hand and tug at the fabric, trying to pull it off him. 

He pulls his mouth back and removes his glove with his teeth.

“Is this what you want, baby?” He asks, running a single finger through your slick, wet folds and over your clit.

You nod.

“Beg for it.”

“Please, Vigilante.” 

He sinks two fingers deep in your cunt. 

“Is this what you fantasise about?” His questioning makes you tighten around his fingers as he draws them in and out of you. Your breathing quickens in time with his fingers pressing against that sweet spot deep inside your pelvis.

He stops abruptly and the whine that escapes you is pathetic.

“Answer me.”

“Y-yes,” you moan. “Every night.” You wriggle, trying to fuck yourself on his stationary fingers.

“Finger fucking yourself like this?” He curls his fingers up into you again.

“Mhmm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes, fuck, just like… like this.” You bring your hand to your clit and start rubbing yourself in an obscene demonstration for him as he watches from his kneeling position, one hand between your thighs.

You’re close now, you can feel your orgasm burning up inside you as your cunt starts pulsing more consistently around his digits and your breathing gets heavier. Just as your release is about to crash over you, he withdraws his hand and grabs your wrist, moving your hand away from your clit.

“Wha-?” You pant dazedly. “I was just about to-”

“I know,” he smirks. “Not yet.”

Fuck. He’s fucking edging you.

His lips meet yours for the first time and you moan softly into his mouth. His tongue rolls against yours and you can still taste your sweet and salty juices on him.

Then, without warning, he flips you over and you gasp wordlessly face down on the leather couch in stunned silence. He pulls your hips back and up towards him.

“Fuck, Vigilante,” you choke, lifting your head up and arching your back, your brain working hard to regain awareness of its surroundings. 

The weight of his body presses down on top of you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna forget my face in a line-up.”

Fuck.

He takes his cock and drags it over your soaking wet entrance, flushed and swollen for him and the broken sob that escapes you is desperate.

“Please,” you beg again. “Just let me cum.”

Vigilante sinks into you with a forceful jerk of his hips and your pussy seizes up tight around him as your face is forced onto the cold leather again. You try and push yourself up onto all fours.

“Nuh-uh, I like seeing you like this,” he says with another forceful thrust, knocking you off balance. “Hands behind your back.” You huff and do what he says, his still-gloved hand pinning your wrists behind you. “I shoulda just kept you tied up, huh?”

You can’t answer, you can’t move, you can’t do anything except just take him. Sparks of electricity reignite inside you, the deepest you’ve ever felt it as he pounds into you, hitting just that right spot again. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder and when you see Vigilante biting his lip in concentration your walls start pulsing and squeezing around his cock.

“Not… yet.” He grunts. “Not ‘til I say.”

He pushes down on your wrists and it feels like all the air is being knocked from your lungs with every roll of his hips. 

“Fuck, you’re such a… pretty… little… hostage,” he groans through gritted teeth, each thrust punctuated by his praise. 

“Yes…” you whine because it’s all you can manage to say. It’s all you can think. That one singular confirmation repeating over and over again in your head - it’s all you want to be for him. Fuck, you’d happily spend the rest of your life locked in his apartment, letting him use you like this every time he came home after a night of murdering criminals.

Your eyes roll back in your head, fireworks rocketing and exploding into a million bright pieces. If there’s a heaven, it would look like this - a beaten-up leather couch in a shitty apartment in downtown Evergreen.

His other hand that’s free of his glove and not pinning you down reaches round and starts working your clit with rough, calloused fingertips. You squeeze your eyes shut, not realising they’ve been watering. Real tears leak from the corners, leaving your face a wet mess on the leather seat. You choke out a sob, not sure how much longer you can fight against your orgasm.

“Shh, shhh… it’s okay, baby. You can cum. Let it all out for me.”

And you do.

Everything goes dark and you’re lost in the pleasure that takes over your body, your climax wiping your mind blank of all thoughts except Vigilante. Your pussy clamps down hard like a vice around his cock as you squirm on his fingers. It’s only when you feel him shudder and collapse on top of you that you realise he’s come undone too.

You both lie there for a second, feeling the warmth of your combined mess leaking out and the sound of him panting, exhausted.

“Vigilante…” you say in a strained voice, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?” he exhales and takes another gulp of air.

“You’re crushing me.”

“Oh.” He hoists himself off of you. “Let me get you a towel.”

With difficulty, you sit back upright to wipe your eyes and fix your hair. Vigilante returns with a towel and you sit on it, grateful for the barrier between you and the wet, sticky couch cushion.

He throws himself back down beside you. “Whoo, I’m beat!” he says cheerfully. “What do you wanna do now?”

You look at him uncertainly and glance at your watch. “It’s one in the morning.”

“Right, cool. Do you wanna sleep on the couch or-”

‘I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic’

Who’s phoning you this late? 

He picks up both of your phones from the coffee table. “It’s mine,” he says and accepts the call. “Hello?”

Wait - his ringtone is Barbie Girl too?

“It’s me,” says the same voice of the woman who called him earlier. “Have you dealt with the hostage yet?”

Vigilante looks at you and hesitates. He swallows. “Yeah. It’s done.”

“So she accepted the bribe? You’ve got the laptop?”

His eyes widen. “The bribe? Oh! Yeah, sure! The bribe...”

“Vij, you didn’t kill her, did you?”

“What?” He lets out a maniacal laugh. “You’re crazy, Harcourt, of course I didn’t kill her. What’s the, uh, budget again?” He winks at you and makes an ‘ok’ sign with his thumb and forefinger. He’s insane, you think.

“I dunno, like five grand?”

“Phew! Then yes, it is all dealt with. Done and dusted. I will get that laptop.”

“You don’t have the laptop yet!? Vigilante, you need to get the laptop before you hand over the money, idiot.”

“Copy that,” he grins.

“Vigilante, what the f-”

He hangs up, cutting her off and tosses his phone aside.

“Good news. I can let you go once you give me the laptop.”

“And the five grand?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Wait, you heard that?!”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well not until you give me the laptop.”

“I can get it tonight if you need it? We just need to swing by my boss’s house before you drop me off.”

He frowns. “Oh. Right. Yeah, of course. I need to… need to take you home.”

You tilt your head to one side and look at him fondly. You fix his messy curls and he closes his eyes at your touch. “Or… I could stay here tonight? Pick up the laptop tomorrow morning once you’ve fixed me some breakfast?”

He perks up. “I could do that! …You’re one hundred per cent sure you can get it though, right?”

You sigh and extend your hand. “Give me my phone.” He does and watches you go through your contacts.

The line rings and a familiar but slightly croaky voice answers.

“Honey, it’s one in the morning. Is everything alright? Did you get home okay?”

“Hey Mom, I’m fine. Listen, I think I forgot to send an email before I left the office and I can’t sleep worrying about it. Can I pick up your laptop first thing tomorrow?”

She yawns. “Sure thing. Don’t get stressed about it. Just go get some sleep.”

“Thanks, boss. I love you.”

“Goodnight sweetie. I love you too.”

You grin as Vigilante gapes at you.

“Goff’s assistant… she’s your-?”

“Yup. Now c’mon, show me where your bedroom is.” You stand up and reach your hands out, waiting for him to guide you. You step on one of your shirt buttons as he leads you towards the hallway. “You owe me a new shirt, by the way.”

“I just made you five grand. Use that to buy a new shirt,” he says, opening the bedroom door.

“Hey, what happened to the hostage negotiation? These are the terms of my release.”

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere,” he smirks, shutting the door behind you.

[demonicnarwhale]

Carapaces!!!!

RC / Raptorial Clerk: RC is one of the archivist on Prospit who deals with mainly Prospit's history and keeping things neat and tidy (just in case if it's needed then carapaces can go to him and retrieve that information) there's other archivists for different sections of society like political, economical, etc. When Midnight City happens / fall of the kingdoms he ends up being a librarian teehee

his origins: and due to his specialties being historical archiving, he's in the same department or area as HK and the two are actually hatch friends!!! YAYYYYY!!!! (they are both smiling)

HN / Harbinger Newel: Newel is just the sort of look the outpost tower he's situated at looks like as seen in the small doodle. He just blows his clarinet looking instrument (i giggle since he choses to play the actual clarinet in CMS) when there's some arrival. There's a certain tune he plays depending on what it is. Enemies/Derse army or Prospit army / workers.

WN / Willowy Notary: She's basically some note taker for court records and such. The cloth covering her eyes is a form of "judgement solely based on the case itself" rather than having any bias (that and I wanna continue her lil "no eyes can be seen" thing going on :D. So like she sits in the court room (grinning so wide when i get to share their architecture and infrastructure) and notates what happens and is being said so that if the case needs to be continued/looked at later to come up with the "right" decision they have a reference. Or if there's important documents being signed and such, she's a witness. (like whatever actual notaries do)

MG / Monoceros Goliath: I thought I was gonna be so smart with the first word, tried searching up for a word to describe a horned animal or synonyms for rhinos (cuz haha helmet rhino beetle) but i got no answer(s) and the ones I did related mainly to constellations. Monoceros mainly just being some Greek word for a legendary animal with a horn so like a unicorn. Weeps guys I'm not cut out for elaborate names.

Also she's (so far) a pawn mainly or somewhere near being a rook but not quite there hence being goliath as she's pretty strong/big for a pawn yay. oh yes and she's well aware of innocent lives (aka farmers or pawns that aren't in either army) and so she'll send out a warning or make it known so said carapaces can evacuate/gtfo (both for Prospit and Derse). Like she wants to make it fair and also avoid unnecessary bloodshed. Or something like that cuz overthinking on it makes me think it sounds silly and odd.

Her armor does have some little pearl-like beads cuz why not :) and- and- and it's supposed to be like constellations with the metal engravings (that im too simple minded to give detail to)

Tallest soldier i have and the shortest (also! I had realized that Dynastinae is, THE SCIENTIFIC NAME FOR RHINO BEETLES OAUGRHAUGHRA clawing at my under eyelids (ive realized this while typing this all out <3) so it's either she's MG or DG

SH / Splendorous Headhunter: Basically she goes out and recruits or finds Dersites (who don't already have a job) some role in society that benefits both the community and themselves. Like she's not just going to randomly assign them jobs but try to understand the individual and go suggest jobs. Cuz like, there's of course other Dersites in this similar role (as her) that don't care. But to SH she thinks of it like "why would I make someone miserable, it makes no sense to force someone to do a job they dislike cuz work won't get done at an efficient rate" that and so there's no strikes-

CC / Canorous Clergyman: just listen to this: (and Powerwolf in general please guys oaughh I fucking love this band so so so so so so much)

Midnight Madona teehe i love Powerwolf so much oaugh my goodness (so much so i would've done gone gatekeep em but then i realized. that's corny. and this sorta genre??? is corny on its own in the best way possible, to me :)). but yes im just adding this here because i kept listening to it when drawing this mf

Midnight Madona (Orchestral Version) also the orchestral version fucking ROCKS (and all the other songs they do orchestral versions of) and is what I like to imagine Derse's choir would sound like (the tone or feeling more than the words teehee and of course not with a big ass orchestra track behind ok you know what I MEAN) like do to around the same time stamp as the version above gehehee

I also already kinda explained his whole deal in a previous post. here be CC. But basically, he's more of a figure for individuals to look to either for help or a sense of "oh so this is what we should be doing for our society". So yeah, he's like, the royal family lol, no real political power as he's a lower status bishop. Like, he's a Bishop for the individuals, to ensure they fall in line and yadda yadda support the community and all. Kinda like, a pastor lol

KH / Kinetoscopic Hallucinator: Due to Derse being, ya know, Derse, connections with these fuckassers (horrorterrors) is prone to happen. As we've seen with players and even Feferi having gigglybob and yay yadda Derse Void dreamers yadda. Basically he gets to listen to all the wonderful stories of the past these eldritch beings share with him. Whereas Prospit gets those lil clouds from Skaia to hint at the future. So, he takes the words and stories from horrorterrors as signs of "precautions" or warnings of what may happen in the future. A sort of doomsday gig going on.

Teehe. He still gets to deal with trying to predict Derse's future but that's a bit hard on him so he turns to memorializing Derse's past, and the Horrorterrors give him information that can precede Derse or even what was missed from its history. But it's mainly just them messing with him going "oooh Derse is doomed in the foreseen future! OoooOoooh" and he goes "aight bet" then boom red miles upon ye. Oh and the kinetoscopic thing is just the fact he has his own lil kinetoscope where he enjoys (the process not the actual fact he needs to listen to them) trying to figure out what the Horrorterrors tell him and depicts it as short stories and then draws frames for a lil animation. He just replays them only to get a sense of dread lol. Later on just outcasts himself in his tower to deal with the horrorbobs instead of looking like a loon in front of everyone, possibly to Derse's moon because ahA obvious motifs! of like, the horrorbobs keeping him chained down and yeahhh

It's basically the medium or locations for Sburb/Sgrub but at the moment I'm more focused on Carapace + etc instead of trolls and humans. I ain't no physic astronomer or something so I'll go back and change things up if it's needed but like, I can bs some stuff right??? yeaaahhhhh.

The idea is like I know it's made for the game but what if no game??? It still very much takes after the set up for the medium with Sgrub but woe upon yet.

The locations of Prospit and Derse is why HK (Historiographic Knitter) and KH (Kinetoscopic Hallucinator) are able to look into the future/past. Due to the locations of their respected planets

HK being on Prospit can receive snippets of the future but it's all randomized so it's like she needs to put it all together, or just write down what she sees. She uses these to make stories or piece them together then create textiles for them along with the stories recorded of the past

KH being on Derse, yeah you read his gig.

Skaia: Trying to deal with what the point of Skaia is for both sides. I think I'll go with it's just been so embedded in both societies to either protect or destroy it that carapaces at this point just need to continue what their ancestors had fought for. Honestly, I'm just going to go with Jack Noir doing his red miles thing and destroying Prospit and Derse then killing (almost) all soldiers and the Kings on the battlefield leaving Skaia dormant. (But then whYYyy would he do that in this context)

Midlay: Basically this version's planet of where exiles go and where Midnight City will soon be made.

The Veil: just asteroids to make traveling to and from Prospit and Derse to be dangerous-ish so it's not like carapaces can just go to the opposing planet and cause chaos. If it's really needed then there's only a handful of carapaces suited for that job.

Dream Bubbles: I know it's thanks to Feferi that they're a thing, so they're not a part of this actual universe, BUT I thought they were just cool to include where I think they'd go.

Green Sun: hi Doc Scratch

In terms of like biology/features of carapaces:

I'm going with Carapaces either being like RC where they got them bug-wuggy/crusty marine life features or like HK with a more chess-come-to-life sort of look, thinking it might just be from the cloning? or however these freaks are made getting fucked over with the system or something, just cuz it could be like "oh it derives from chess pieces but also some bug-crustaceans-alien thing" and sometimes the bug-crustacean just wins. It's totally not so I can shit and giggle with other designs and stuff, what??? no. And then of course carapces can have spawn of their own, but lay eggs yadda yadda and so some of these features can get passed down and such. It's just cloning is used in both kingdoms to ensure there's a steady flow of carapaces to work on the planets or get thrown into battle and yeah.

NOTE AS OF NOW: I just copied and pasted information i had saved on them all and so I will most likely go back and fix things up, or make a new post if it's anything major like "Oh I'm changing this character up" but yeAH

[our-neighbours-cat-is-a-menace]

OBEY ME

Scenario :Mc eating a banana inappropriately

warning:HIGHLY SUGGESTIVE ‼️

Lucifer

All he want is some peaceful environment so that he can finish the schools paperworks that was assigned to him

But no

Your dumb ass decided to tease your ever so prideful boyfriend

Grabbing a banana from the fridge and having the audacity to sit infront of a working lucifer in his office

You wasted no time, peeling and licking that banana as if that's the most delicious thing you've tasted, occasionally letting out some not so appropriate noises

"What do you think your doing?" lucifer sternly asked, eyes fully meeting yours

"mmhhp mmhhhpp"

"take that out and answer me" he said, a tick mark appearing on his forehead

You took the banana out making a popping noise in the end and licking your lips oh so seductively

"what? I was just eating" you said feigning innocence

"no one ever eats bananas like that" he said as a matter of fact

"well, i do. Now will you excuse me, i have more eating to do"

You decided to end it there since it was clear to you that what you did got him all hot and bothered seeing how his not returning his attention to the papers on his desk

"ok fine, stop looking at me like that. I'm leaving and i promise, i won't bother you again" you stated while getting up and acting to leave

"hold it" he immediately spoke and you oh so slowly turned around, desperate to hide an incoming grin

"what" you innocently asked

"that's the wrong way to my bed" he firmly said, quickly coming to you and slowly sliding his sly hands on your waist and immediately capturing your lips for a deep heated kiss

The kiss lasted for a minute and by the moment you came back to your senses, you already found yourself on the bed  with your demon hovering above you ready to take you to heaven

Expect yourself to eat something else.

Mammon

"what's wrong mams" you innocently said

"nothing" he said despite being completely beet red

"then why are you so red?" belphie innocently asked, touching mammon's ears

mammon flinched awkwardly from beels innocent touch

"yeah mammon, why are you so red" asmo teasingly added

"is there a specific reason why you can't look at MC in the eyes and if you do look at her, you turn into an overripe tomato" satan pointed out with a glint of teasing

"good job pointing that out genius" belphie said leced with sarcasm

"you guys, cut it out" You interjected turning the attention to the poor tomato in front of you

Mammon took another short glance at you and ended up blushing more. he bolted out of the room and you were quick to chase after him

You slowly pried for the reason why he was acting like that and when he stated he just can't get the image of you mindlessly eating a banana inappropriately out of his mind

When you heard this, it was your turn to become a tomato

You frantically explained your side yet the more you explain, the more you two become a blushing mess

both of you guys decided to just bury the whole issue

yet you guys still can't help but turn red when remembering the embarrassment of this day

Leviathan

he's gaming as usual yet he can't seem to concentrate with how the person sitting next to him is being a menace

"what's wrong levi, you're dying" you commented while solely focusing your attention to the game screen since, he was so out of the game

he tried to focus on the game and not to you eating that banana seductively

damn, why do you have to lick it like that

he was far from being focused since his eyes always dart to your lips that's attached to that stupid banana

And it's not helping how tight his pants are starting to feel.

"levi, you died for the 3rd time, at this rate you're definitely gonna lose" you turned your neck to face his direction and was left speechless to

see a very much obvious needy avatar of envy

who's painfully clutching his d*ck with teary eyes

who's hands are now holding your hand instead of the mouse

who's lips are quivering  to say something

"what's wrong?" you asked frantically, cupping his face with your free hand

"MC, it hurts" he said painfully with little tears, slowly guiding your hands to his thing

you came to realize why and how the situation came to this certain point

this made you hella flustered cause the scene in front of you is downright tempting

giving in, you did what you were doing to the banana earlier to a certain moaning avatar of envy

rawrrrrrrrr

Satan

" by any chance, have you forgotten how to eat a banana Mc?" he asked ever so seriously"

not really, I'm just eating normally" you replied

" no one licks, kiss or nibble on a banana like that, it's just bite, chew and swallow. Now what's your excuse" he stated, completely dominating your conversation

not liking how he was winning, you harshly bit a huge chunk of banana, chewed and swallowed

he nervously flinched when you did that, somehow finding his hand covering his precious d*ck

"i guess next time if i do happen to eat something else, I'll just bite, chew and swallow" you smiled menacingly

"that's" satan tried to reason out yet you cut him off

"no, no, i completely understand, i won't lick, kiss or nibble. I have to firmly bite and chew it off" you said making a slash action on your neck

"do you really have to win every argument" he stated, sighing admitting his defeat

"hehe of course, me winning is a must it's not negotiable" you had the audacity to show him such a stupid grin

God, if only he didn't love you

Asmodeus

Asmo

are you sure you wanna do this

like hundred percent sure

cause the moment you start doing this

you'll be in his bed, under him and not even a second later has become a moaning mess

Beelzebub

yeah no

you'll do this stupid shit

and he'll just stare at you and say

"that's not the right way to eat a banana MC"

and he'll just proceed to show you how to eat one

you'll just end up being the one embarrassed for your stupid attempt to seduce him

Belphegor

"ehem" belphie faked coughed, signaling you to stop the dumb shit you're doing in front of him

yet you chose to continue and pretend you didn't hear anything

"ok stop that" he said, eyes locked on yours

"stop what?"

"that!"

"what's" that"" you said completely taunting him

"one, that's nasty. two, that's gross. and three it's inappropriate. So stop it" he said firmly

"one, it's none of your business how i eat. two, no one asked you to watch and three, you had the audacity to tell me that when you're hard as a rock" you retorted slyly looking on the thing that's standing proudly between his legs

he groaned after hearing your words

" oh and also, you better take care of that yourself cause technically i would do it for you buuuuut, one it's nasty, two it's gross and three it's inappropriate" you sarcastically said leaving the room with a stupid grin.

"DAMN IT MC, GET BACK HERE" he shouted

"AND WHAT? DIE AGAIN? NO THANK YOU" you shouted back, running for your life

A/N: wews i have been dead for a while and whose fault is it? mine. Who said medical school was fun.

Masterlist🌻

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest Halloween - Gluttony

Summary: The Corroded Coffin boys just can't say no to candy.

Word Count: 1031

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Friendship, teenage shenanigans, boys will be boys, food/eating, implied sickness

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn't start on the first day, you can still participate.

Tagging @the-unforgivenn @1lostsoul0fishbowl upon request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Monday, October 28th 1985

It was no secret that Eddie Munson had a sweet tooth.

It was honestly a surprise that his teeth hadn’t rotted out of his head yet, with the amount of soda he drank and confections he devoured.

“What can I say,” he grinned that big, boyish, crooked Munson grin. “I am a champion at brushing my teeth.” He chomped them twice to emphasize his point.

But that sweet tooth always meant trouble come the candy holidays.

“What the hell does that mean?” Dustin questioned on morning, after the older boys asked if the freshman were ready now that candy season had arrived.

"Candy Season!" Gareth shouted and jumped out of the van. "You know, all of the holidays that you'd typically expect to find candy. Halloween, Christmas."

"Valentine's Day, Easter," Jeff added.

"Some teachers bring candy in," Eddie explained. "Some bring baked goods--Mrs. Arnold's brownies are to die for--and usually the cafeteria has some kind of sweet on the menu. Pumpkin pie, peppermint fudge..."

"Eddie always complains that it's a shame there's no school during the summer--"

"What?!" All of the freshman screeched.

"--because he is denied his favorite: cherry pie."

"Oh Cherry Pie," Eddie dropped to his knee, arms outstretched towards the heavens. "How do I love thee, let me count the--Dave, if you kick me, I swear to god you have to walk home the rest of the year."

“Then get up!” Dave snarked. “Forget the Cherry pie, there’s candy waiting just beyond those doors Shakespeare.”

Oh, was there candy.

And baked goods.

Sugar beyond any teenage boy’s wildest dreams.

They had helped themselves to handfuls of candy corn or tootsie rolls throughout the day; Mrs. Arnold, indeed, had trays of brownies with a pumpkin cheesecake swirl on top to surprise her students.

The more they ate, the more hyper they got. Eddie's English teacher created a fun challenge to tell a spooky story and Eddie, ever the rule breaker, decided that he would energetically recite Edgar Allan Poe's The Raven. He barely took a breath between each stanza. He was rosy-cheeked and heaving by the end but he won.

The prize? Yes, a little baggie of candy.

"I didn't even know I knew the whole thing," he admitted sheepishly as he bit into a piece of saltwater taffy.

At lunch, the PTA moms held fundraiser for new marching band uniforms. Never let it be said that the members of the Hellfire Club weren’t about school spirit when they spent the entirety of their lunch period munching on those candy apples.

But, all good things come to an end.

“Ugh,” Jeff groaned by the end of lunch as he leaned back in his seat and rubbed his aching stomach. “Someone call Ridley, I feel like I’m gonna burst.”

“You have nothing to complain about,” Mike scoffed. “I have PE after this. I'm not gonna make it."

All of the boys groaned at the sound of the bell.

"Eddie I'll give you all the money in my piggybank if you can help us ditch the rest of the day," Dustin pleaded.

"There are only three periods left, Henderson," Eddie hefted himself to his feet, even though he, too, felt like shit. "You'll make it. Think of the candy."

"I don't wanna think about candy ever again for the rest of my life," the younger boy groaned.

Eddie ruffled Dustin's hair and then headed to his next class.

O'Donnell's. US History.

By the time he got to his seat, his heart was racing and his vision was blurry and he had the horrible realization--

"Am I getting too old to stuff myself with candy?"

--but he said a quick nah and put his head down on his desk.

Normally, he'd be able to sit in the back and close his eyes during O'Donnell's class. But he'd been doing better so far this year, making the effort in order to finally graduate.

She'd let one little nap slide, right?

"We have a fun lesson today," O'Donnell announced and handed stacks of worksheets to be passed back. "In the spirit of Halloween week, we'll be talking about the origins of the holiday here in America. Alongside a few spooky topics. The Salem Witch Trials...Regional folklore."

What would've been the best lesson of Eddie's life turned terrible as the world lurched when he lifted his head to grab the worksheets.

He raised his hand weakly.

"...we'll even get to read about...er...yes Edward?"

"May I go to the bathroom?" he asked, earning a huff of annoyance.

"You know the classroom rules: bathroom breaks during the last five minutes of class only."

"Then can I go to the nurse's office?"

She instructed the class to look over the assignments and she approached him.

"Eddie, I thought this would be something you'd be excited for," O'Donnell told him, gently. "I'm not trying to be hard on you but if you want to pass, you have to try."

"I'm really not feeling good today, Mrs. O," he whined.

With pursed lips, Mrs. O'Donnell looked him over critically and then shook her head.

"You look fine," she insisted. "You can go to the bathroom in the last ten minutes of class."

She tapped her finger against the worksheet and then walked to the front of the classroom to begin the lesson.

Eddie did his best. He tried to listen, he tried to be enthusiastic, he tried to fill in the worksheet.

But the classroom was too hot and his skin was too tight and his stomach was cramping and his whole body just felt wrong.

So he simply couldn't wait until the end of class; he needed to get out of here. Now.

He was gonna pass out, or shit himself, or...uh oh...

He stood and hastened towards the front of the classroom.

"Munson!" O'Donnell shouted at him as he closed the distance to the door. "Sit back down! I told you that you could use the restroom at the end of class I..."

And just when he opened his mouth to tell her to shove it, the candy that he'd happily stuffed down his throat made its return back up.

All over Mrs. O'Donnell.

[akwolfgrl]

LFT 45

Sanji wasn't sure exactly how he ended up in this exact position, naked his legs spread tied to the railing in the crow’s nest, hands tied behind his back with a tie Zoro stole from his collection, cock hard and leaking a puddle of pre cum pooling under his already overstimulated body. The cock ring that they had bought in town wrapped around the base of his penis, he knew it was gonna be a long night. A great night but a long one... Zoro did mention tying him up while they were doing the dishes but Sanji couldn't have guessed that it would involve having his weapons tied up as well.

He could see the endless sky and ocean from between the railings, but he didn't need his sight to know Zoro was still fully clothed. Sanji wiggled his ass high in the air as an attempt to get his muscle head of a boyfriend to hurry up and fuck him already.

“Zorooooooooooo…. quit making me wait! Hurry up and fuck meee,” Sanji couldn't keep the whines from his voice as he begged. “Please…”

“But you look so fucking pretty like this,” his deep voice cooed against his bare flesh. His hands bring the only warmth to his naked skin.

“Zoro! Stop teasing me!” He attempted to demand only for his desire and need to be filled by his man’s massive cock.

“Tch, and you called me impatient,” he states hands tracing lazily over every inch of his cook’s lean body. “And yet here you are begging for my cock, like my good perverted cook”

Sanji moaned and choked on a scream as Zoro's hand hit his ass cheeks, right across the middle hitting both hard enough to shake his whole frame. He heard his mosshead chuckle before another round of spankings shook his frame once more. Pale ass marked red from his boyfriend’s large hand stung mind numbingly well with each added smack. In pain Sanji found there was pleasure to be found, sweet torturous pleasure. At this rate, Zoro was making sure Sanji wouldn't be able to sit comfortably tomorrow, his ass still sore from the night prior. He was just glad he wasn't made to count; he had long lost his place.

“Aahh!” Sanji’s voice cried out as Zoro began to knead his poor blistered ass before spreading his abused cheeks nice and painfully wide.

“Dinner was great, but I think I'm ready for dessert,” Zoro’s tongue licked a single strip from behind his balls up to his twitching hole. Mind blank as the wetness cooled his stinging flesh, his needy hole flexing as the rest of his muscles tightened. More… He needed more.

Sanji moaned as Zoro dove in just as he had before, dipping in and around his plump rim. His tongue slipping past his edges as his blond panting desperately for air, gasping and choking on his wordless pleas. He lost all ability to speak yet again, he hardly recognized the noise pouring from his throat though he knew his lover was savoring every muted cry and odd begging noise he made. He could feel Zoro's saliva running down his crack and over his balls the air cooling the spit the difference in the temperature sent a shudder down his spine. After what felt like hours, he was given a soaking wet finger breaching his hole slipping in beside Zoro dexterous tongue.

“Putain! (Fuck!)” Sanji found his words finally. “More Zoro more!”

Zoro slipped in a second finger just as his needy cook demanded only to begin scissoring the fingers stretching him all over again. He loved the care that Zoro put into making sure he was ready, no matter how much he demanded him to go faster.

It was difficult to keep himself quiet, no matter how much he enjoyed being caught he really didn't wish to feel Namis justified rath if they disturbed her beauty sleep. What would she look like all messy haired and sleepy? Nami was so pretty when she mad. What cute little nighty would she wear? Would it be seen there? Short and lace? Long and elegant? Sanji shuddered and moaned. Oh Nami-swan!

[cc-cobalt-1043]

Barbecue:

One summer evening on Pabu The bad batch were heading to Shep's house, he was hosting a barbecue and had invited everyone.

The kids were practically pulling the adults along in their excitement.

"Cmon dad, we've been walking forever." Joey whined giving Cobalt an almighty tug forward.

"We've been walking for two minutes bud." Cobalt said as he was almost pulled off his feet.

"Yeah, forever, we're gonna be late at this rate." Joey said.

"Relax Joey, we won't." Cobalt said.

Just minutes later they arrived at Shep's where the man greeted them with one of his signature smiles.

"Hello friends, glad you could make it." He said.

Shep looked to the kids.

"Lyana is in the backyard if you want to see here." He added.

Shep quickly stood aside as the kids and Batcher charged through the door.

Laughing heartily the adults followed through the door and went into the garden where the kids and Lyana were already engrossed in conversation.

Soon Wrecker and Shep had gotten the barbecue started and a smoky smell had now enveloped the garden.

Daniel and James were chasing batcher around the garden, Boba, Zander and Rowan were talking with Mox, Stak and Deke about different ships they had seen and flown and Omega, Kordi, Cynthia and Lyana were sitting together having a whispered the silence interrupted by their frequent giggles.

Other guests soon arrived including Rex and several clones from the rebellion, Riyo Chuchi, Emerie, Phee and to everyone's surprise Rampart along with Jax, Sami and Eva.

"Hello Edmon, glad to see you." Shep said.

"It's a pleasure Shep." Rampart nodded before going and sitting next to Emerie while Jax, Sami and Eva went to the other kids.

Soon Shep, Wrecker and Gregor announced that dinner was ready and the kids eagerly ran over, even batcher and Lucky got a plate of food each. After the kids had been served the adults got their share of food and everyone dug in.

"Good as ever Gregor, you continue to impress." Rex said after a mouthful of fried porg.

"Oh Rex you honey dripper Gregor giggled pretending to blush.

Rampart took a bite of a pirg wing and he suddenly started gasping for breath.

"...To hot.." He gasped out.

Crosshair handed him a bottle from the cooler which Rampart took a large drink from.

"Can't handle your spices Edmon." Crosshair teased.

"Usually I can, but that was spicy even by my standards." Rampart said.

"Sorry about that, that must have been one of my fireball wings." Fireball piped up.

"What's the difference?" Rampart asked.

"They're much spicier than normal porg wings, that's how I got my name, cause I love spicy food." Fireball said.

"I see." Rampart nodded taking another drink of water.

Daniel was typing away on his tablet while chewing away at a pork chop with a healthy amount of apple suacce on it.

Nemec sat down next to him.

"Whatcha working on Danny?" He asked.

Daniel swallowed his food and wiped some sauce off his chin before awnsering.

"My own starfighter, I'm hoping to build it one day, once I'm old enough to do so anyways." Daniel said.

"Can I see?" Nemec asked curiously.

Dan nodded and passed Nemec the tablet.

Nemec whistled impressed.

"That's a nice looking fighter, I'd hate to be on the wrong end of that." Nemec said.

Daniel nodded his thanks blushing slightly with pride.

Sunset was approaching and by now the younger kids were getting tuckered out.

Sami, James, Lyana and Omega were passed out against Batcher who was curled up on the grass.

Eva had crawled onto Rampart's lap half an hour ago and was out cold, head resting against her adoptive father's chest.

Rampart was chatting with Martha along with Daniel who was fast asleep on his mother's lap similar to Eva.

Cynthia and Katie were chatting, about something funny, the two giggling on occasion.

Boba, Jax, Zander and the triplets were huddled together talking in low voices while nearby Kordi read a book with Rowan lying across her lap fast asleep.

Meanwhile Tech and Phee reatreted too the roof where the two watched the setting sun.

"It really is beautiful isn't it?" Phee asked.

"It most certainly is." Tech nodded in agreement.

The two shared a kiss together as the sun set and the others had fun.

[capypub]

Bed Rock - Mafia!Joel Miller Extended Scene

Can be read as a standalone or part of my Mafia!Joel Miller Without Warning/ Extended Scenes Series (would take place between scenes 3 and 4)

Mafia!Joel Miller x OFC

MDNI. 18+ content.

Summary: They didn’t mean to break her bed, obviously…

Rating: M (smut, oral male receiving)

AN: I'm still here lol. Someone suggested on A03 more Ellie involvement. This is obviously not that, but I'm sitting on a couple ideas right now...

Without Warning Masterlist

They didn’t mean to break her bed, obviously…

One minute, Joel had been thrusting deeply into her tight heat, grunting feral above her as he gripped her headboard in an iron fist, the nails of his other hand digging into her hips as he pinned her squirming form down to the sweat-covered sheets. The frame squeaked in time with his thrusts, the whole mattress shaking as he gave her everything he had, hungry for her release.

The next minute there was a creek and then a crack. 

Just as she cried out for him from her orgasm, a whining, whimpering puddle under him, they felt the drop, both of their stomachs’ flipping as the bedframe hit the wooden floor with a low thud. “Oh fuck!” she gasped, sitting up, nearly hitting Joel in the forehead, breathing hard as she looked around. 

He was silent, shocked and a little disoriented, still hard and throbbing in her wet heat.

“Joel!” she gasped, looking towards the end of her bed, which was angled awkwardly on one leg, the rest of the frame flat on the ground. 

He blinked once, finally realized how off balance he felt, taking in the scene before him, finally releasing the headboard and sitting up. She giggled, scooting back, his cock slipping out of her wet heat as he hissed from the change in temperature. 

“We…” she laughed with a shake of her head, “I can’t believe we broke the bed.” 

“Shit...my bad, baby,” he muttered, grinning in amusement as they awkwardly got off her now busted bed frame, the mattress sagging to one side. He didn’t even seem embarrassed or upset at the matter, just…proud, almost? Entertained and proud, if she had to guess by that slight hint of smugness in his smirk. 

They got dressed, Joel still achingly hard in his jeans as he assessed the damage. Shoving the mattress to the ground, he inspected the frame. 

“Where’d you get this from? It’s a piece of shit, babe,” he scoffed bluntly, now noticing the shoddy welding and old metal bars.

“It’s called living on a budget, asshole,” she shot back, playfully rolling her eyes as she sat beside where was kneeling. “Textbooks are expensive,” she added after he shot a glare at her over his shoulder from her sass. “Can you fix it?” 

He scoffed. “No, baby girl, this is beyond fixin’,” he shook his head, standing up straight, his knees popping in the process as he groaned softly. “Just gonna have to get you a new one, make sure it can hold up against me,” he said with a sly grin down at her.

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not sure that exists, Joel.”

“Come on, get your shoes on,” he said, offering his hand to her.

“Why?” she questioned, allowing him to help pull her up anyways. 

“Gotta get you a new bed frame, maybe a bigger mattress while we’re at it,” he said casually, grabbing his keys from her dresser after she was full on her feet.

“What? Joel?!” she called after him, following him out into the living room, where he picked up his wallet and slipped on his shoes.

He ignored her arguments as he guided her out the door and into his truck, pulling out onto the main road with a smug grin as she stared at him with a mix of confusion, shock and a little irritation sprinkled in as well at his sheer audacity.

“Where are we going?” she asked, eyeing him suspiciously as he stopped at a red light. 

“Told you, darlin’, gonna get you a new setup, can’t have my girl sleepin’ on the floor,” he shrugged easily, popping a stick of gum in his mouth from the pack he kept in the driver’s side door. 

“Joel, you’re not buying me a new-.”

“Shh, baby doll, don’t you worry ‘bout it, alright,” he cut her off by reaching over to caress her jaw softly, stealing a quick kiss before the light turned green again.

She gaped, unable to process the strange mixture of contempt and appreciation battling ferociously in her chest. It left her opening and closing her mouth like a floundering fish, at a loss for words on whether to thank him or chew him out for his arrogance. 

“Joel, stop being ridiculous, this isn’t funny,” she said, finally managing to string a coherent thought together. 

Their relationship was still fairly new to her, so Joel's insistence on providing was something she was still getting used to, even if it was his fault in a way, something in her overly-independent brain continued to fight him tooth and nail about whipping out his card for her at any chance he got.

He chuckled, finding her fire adorable. He liked seeing this side of her, all worked up and determined to maintain her independence, even when all he wanted to do was take care of her.

“I’m pretty sure I’m the one to blame for the bed givin’ out in the first place, baby doll, the least I can do is get you a new one,” he reasoned calmly, enjoying the frustrated pout on her face all the more when she started blushing. “You’re cute, gettin’ all worked up when I try to take care of you,” he observed, his eyes filled with amusement and adoration as he ran his fingers through her hair. 

She blushed harder, turning her head away for a moment to gather her thoughts. “Shut up,” she muttered defiantly, her heart fluttering in her chest as she heard the low, deep chuckle that made her melt. 

He brought her to an IKEA, strolling leisurely around the front of the truck to get to her door, taking her hand as he helped her out. She was attempting to scowl at him, her irritation much lower, but still present. To him, it looked like she was simply pouting still, making him smile.

“Gonna need to fuck that attitude out of you when we get back,” he commented lightly, wrapping a heavy arm around her shoulders, leading her to the entrance.

She gasped softly, his lewd comment out in public catching her off guard, only making him grin wider as an oblivious family walked past them.

It took them roughly two hours to find a bed that Joel approved of, his contractor brain assessing and scrutinizing every detail. The first hour consisted of him grumbling and swearing under his breath about the “shitty craftsman” and “fuckin’ aluminum beam in a box” before they found one that didn’t make him roll his eyes or scoff. He didn’t bat an eye when she tossed a new comforter and a couple pillows into their cart, smiling in approval when she wasn’t looking, happy that she was finally letting him provide for her. 

She followed him into her apartment as he carried the new frame, her arms holding the two pillows she had bought as he balanced the comforter on his shoulder. He could feel her heavy gaze on him as he rolled up the sleeves of his flannel, using a box cutter from his truck to remove the framing.

Gods, watching him put the bed frame together had her wet and needy much quicker than she would like to admit. He held a screwdriver in his mouth as he aligned two bars together. She had no idea what he was doing, but she could watch him do it all day long. Joel glanced up, his eyes taunting as he caught her practically drooling over him. He removed the screwdriver from his mouth, using it to secure the two pieces in his hand together with a bolt.

“Doin’ okay over there, sweetheart?” he asked, his drawl thick as he teased her.

“...uh huh…” she murmured, sounding breathless as she watched his hands, rough and controlled in their movement as he moved to the other end of one of the bars. 

He chuckled. “Lookin’ a little wild eyed, darlin’...”

“S-shut up,” she muttered, looking away, slightly embarrassed. 

“Don’t worry, ‘s cute,” he winked, crouching down to test the security of one of the legs after twisting it into place. 

She felt like he finished at an agonizingly slow pace. It shouldn’t take this long to put a bed frame together. He had to be teasing her on purpose. At least it felt like a long time, her body growing warmer and warmer as he put the new piece of furniture together for her. She couldn’t even really appreciate the end results because she was too busy working his belt buckle open.

“Easy baby, still gotta put the sheets on,” he chuckled teasingly, leaning back in her desk chair, allowing her to frantically free his semi-hard cock from his jeans.

“Later,” she panted, dropping to her knees, nosing at the trail of dark curls starting on his lower abdomen and moving down to where she grasped the base of his cock. 

“Got you all worked up, darlin’,” he said with a smirk, running his hands through her hair as she licked the tip.

“Yeah,” she murmured with her lips around the head of his cock, suckling softly with a needy moan. 

“Oh, fuck, baby girl,” he groaned, fisting the hair at the crown of her head loosely, his head rolling back as his legs spread and relaxed around her body. “Gonna thank me with that pretty mouth, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice now a low rumble in his throat. 

“Please,” she murmured, pulling back to lick at the tip, her hand warm and wet as she stroked him slowly.

“That’s right, baby, use that mouth on me,” he nodded, pushing her head down halfway onto his throbbing cock, groaning as she sucked him off with a whine. “Such a pretty girl, doin’ so well f’ me, gorgeous’,” he praised her with a throaty moan, his fingers in her hair guiding her strokes as her hand worked the rest of his length just as eagerly. 

“Fuck, that’s it, baby girl,” he sighed, his stomach tightening as he felt his oncoming release, his grip rough on her soft locks as he got closer and closer. 

She pulled off him, gasping softly for air, her hand still moving rhythmically on his length. Her lips were wet and slightly swollen from how hard she was sucking on him, eyes dazed as she stared up at him. 

“So fuckin’ pretty like this, baby,” he sighed, guiding her mouth back to him, growling as she took him deeper, gagging on his length. “That’s right, such a good girl f’ me, gonna come, baby girl, swallow f’ me, be my good girl,” he groaned, holding her head down with a deep growl, his hips bucking slightly into her mouth as she moaned, his release coating her throat.

She was breathing hard when he finally released his grip on her hair, eyes wide and eager as she stood up, leaning over to kiss him, the taste of him still on her lips, making him groan in satisfaction.

“Thank you, baby,” she said sweetly, her hands on his shoulders as she pushed herself to stand straight, looking over at the newly built bed frame, much nicer than her original by a longshot. 

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he chuckled, still catching his breath, his soft cock still exposed as he lazily tucked himself back into his jeans.

“Wanna test it out after I put the new sheets on?” she offered with an arched brow, grinning slyly at him, her sweet tone replaced with one of a mischievous minx.

“Fuck yeah I do,” he grunted, standing up, easily lifting her off the ground with her legs around her waist, no intention of getting the mattress off the floor and onto the new frame any time soon as he set her on her dresser to kiss her neck hungrily as her sweet laughter filled the small apartment, eventually shifting into desperate moans…

[destiny-smasher]

NemoPen Week Day 5: School Dance

As Penny's graduation draws super close, she finally allows herself the experience of attending a school dance, now that she has Nemona to make her feel comfortable enough to do so.

Excerpt:

As the first song of the night ended, the crowd of partygoers cheered and clapped, catching their breath. Penny, who was still hanging at the sidelines, offered a few half-hearted claps, wondering where her date was. It wasn't like Nemona to be late, especially to an event like this... Even Scarlet had shown up already, and them arriving before Nemona was... just plain backwards. The familiar voice of Penny's friend echoed through the courtyard from the many speakers lined around the place. [ “Hey-hey-heyohhh, your buddy DJ Vice checkin' in on all you party people. We are just getting started here at the Naranja Spring Formal, so if you have requests or messages for the Applin of your eye, send 'em my way, and I will see what I can do. Comin' at you next, we've got some mellow beats to let ya'll catch your breath and mingle...” ] The volume of the next song was mixed up as he ended his speech, playing some lofi chill beats as those attending the dance were given the 'vibes' to cool off from all the excitement of that first number. A vibration startled Penny, who was already jumpy as it was. From out of a pocket sewn onto her dress, she produced her RotomPhone, which seemed to be more relaxed than usual, given the silky material it was getting to lounge in. Penny was garbed in a dress – a kind of fancy dress, at that. She'd initially wanted to go for a Sylveon-themed one, but... She didn't want to come across as too flashy, draw too much attention to herself... so she'd talked herself down into something black and gray, more subdued and simple, but also let Nemona have some sway in the decision-making, as she herself wasn't really that fussed. Part of her had wanted to wear a suit, honestly. But the other part of her had been waiting for a few years now to wear a fancy dress. And that part of her had won out, in the end. It was a dress that only really revealed a bit of her neck – room enough to wear a studded choker she'd received as a gift from her Team Star friends over the holidays – as well as her arms, which were pale in the outdoor lighting of that spring evening. Her hair, slightly grown out, was at an awkward length where she couldn't really style it too much, and so she'd let Mela fluff it out a bit with a combination of brushing, hair product, and heat. Beneath the black dress, she wore gray leggings, which slipped into goth platform shoes, which she'd gotten for herself for this exact occasion using her birthday money from her parents. This wasn't her first time wearing them – probably the third or fourth? She was still getting used to the added height they provided. Not a regular thing, but it still felt nice. She hoped this increase in height would make dancing with Nemona more interesting, if she didn't trip over herself first... Checking her phone, Penny read a text from Nemona. Rather than a series of shorter texts, it was sent as one single paragraph. ( Sorry I'm late! My hair took longer than expected and I had a wardrobe malfunction, but don't worry, I'm all set! On my way! Almost there! I am literally walking up the Mesagoza steps as I'm typing this! Wow, I hate this! My feet hurt! Remind me to never do this in dress shoes again! Woof...Gonna tire myself out before I even reach you at this rate...But I am literally so close! Sorry again! Just about there. ARC we've got to consider installing like a lift or something, this is...so totally not handicap friendly, right? These stairs, I mean. You'd better be ready to catch me when we dance because, oh wow, my legs are so tired already...Maybe you should get some punch or something ready for me? Please? Aw, man, some punch sounds really good right now. Seriously, why do we have the longest stairway ever at this place?! ) Penny had started smirking while reading it, and her face just continued to widen more and more as she read further into Nemona's off-the-cuff single text ramble. “What're you smilin' about?”

[destinygoldenstar]

🍀Welcome To My Daily Life🍀 - Total Drama Viewer Reacts to Disventure Camp Season 2 Episode 2 “Open Your Eyes”

I'm back. After... how many days since I reacted to the premiere?

I was preoccupied with a lot of stuff, okay?

I'm just gonna jump right into this.

What are they eating??

Chef isn't here. They don't have to eat that slop.

Is Nina also that bad of a cook-

No cause she made pumpkin bread the last episode-

What. What. WHAT IS THAT.

"Well, it took me a bit. In general I find it hard to fall asleep."

BRUH. SAME. OH MY GOD.

You wanna know how bad my sleeping disorder is?!

I'm getting it checked out so you know. STILL.

"Tell me a little about yourself."

"There is nothing interesting to know about me."

Okay then. 10/10 characterization. She is NOTHING.

"I have a card game that has several questions when you're getting to know someone."

Aw. That's actually sweet.

For a second I thought he just wanted to get in her pants.

"But believe me, at the end of this, we won't be friends."

Im sorry, I can't focus on this so well. THE MUSIC IS BLARING IN THIS SCENE.

I CAN'T STOP LAUGHING AT THE EPIC MUSIC PLAYING IN THIS SOLEMN SCENE XD

"HEYO WHO'S IPOD IS BLASTING IN THE MESS HALL RIGHT NOW?! TURN IT DOWN, I'M TRYING TO TALK TO A GIRL!!!"

"Since I published our photo together, you have gained a thousand followers!"

Pretty sure that's not how that works...

WAIT, I'M SORRY, YOU'RE STALKING THIS GUY'S SOCIAL MEDIA?!

"You're welcome. Its what friends do."

WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT HIM LIKE THAT?! STOP IT.

"Now come here so we can get a photo of a kiss. You'd gain a million! HASHTAG LOOK AT THIS CUTE BOY I FOUND!"

What's his name? *looks back* Aiden?

Aiden, you have my permission TO CALL THE POLICE.

"After all, we are the only guys on our team."

Are you?

Oh yeah you are! Well then.

"Oh and don't forget to finish your breakfast. Hunger can cause sleep deprivation."

Well that's subtle.

So you're gonna starve them to sleep?

"I want to do my best to look like a professional host on camera."

Aren't you an executive? Or did I read that wrong?

"I feel I get a little excited at times, and I end up saying inappropriate things."

GIRL, I FEEL YA.

"One of the reasons I let you stay here is that seeing a poor and pathetic intern so humiliated and worn out every day will help me remember what not to do to others."

Okay then...

"It's just really hard not to be a sociopath, you know?"

"I don't want to lose my humanity just to get some ratings."

You sound A LOT like you've met Chris McLean in your life.

I get it. He's iconic, but he's also a sociopath.

So it's the Awake-A-Thon.

That challenge is EVIL.

I would NEVER win it.

"This challenge has been done before."

*chokes*

WAIT THEY KNOW?!?!?!?! THEY'RE AWARE?!?!?!?!?!?

WAIT, TOTAL DRAMA IS CANON?!?!?!?

I mean, Total Drama fanfiction, but...

IT'S IN THE SAME UNIVERSE AS TOTAL DRAMA?!?!?!?!

I'm only JUST NOW realizing that, TWO SEASONS IN.

I'm a dumbass...

Hang on. Let me get the time cards out...

"Hey girls, what sign are you?"

Ooh, girlie bonding!

I'm not saying mine on the Internet btw. Don't ask.

"I think it's cancer, I'm not really sure..."

You do read me as a cancer.

"Do you believe in that astrology thing?"

"It's not that I believe blindly, it's just that I like the idea of cheering people up. I always read the horoscope and try to embrace the most positive message."

Awwwwwww, I like her. She's an astrology queenie.

"Do you want me to read what the stars say about you?"

"It says... 'you are plagued with bad luck for the rest of your days, better luck next time.' Well... ain't that lovely...😅"

"If the girls are that close, it means that they will vote together."

You have not seen Total Drama. The girlies NEVER vote together.

"How about you try to talk to her about it?"

"Um, WHY ME?!"

"Because if she, say, KILLS YOU, I won't get caught in the crossfire, and better you than me. Tee hee."

"Okay. I'll try that later."

*Gets a Wawa Ad*

XD

I GUESS AIDEN AND KAROL ARE TALKING ABOUT IT BY GETTING WAWA PIZZA.

HEYO, IS THAT ALLOWED?!

That seems like cheating. You got a screen blaring in your eyes.

"All good. Playing Smash Bros."

Very nice. What's your main?

(I'm a Samus main in case you're curious. Basic, I know.)

"I'd let you play if you wanted, but the last time I lent someone my console it ended up breaking."

Oh yeah XD

"I follow your Twitch Channel."

Oh, so she has a gaming career. Gotcha.

"How many consoles did you bring with you?"

"Not enough."

"Not enough" Proceeds to pull out yet ANOTHER Switch.

Girl... you're not normal.

"Greetings partner of the mystical journey called life."

OH GOD I FORGOT ABOUT HOW BAD THIS GUY'S VOICE IS...

(No hate to the VA)

"I felt some pretty erratic vibes coming from you."

Erratic?!

I don't think you'd want to say that to someone. Maybe that's just me.

Where the hell did this crush some from?

They didn't talk ONCE last episode.

*Add that to the Total Drama Crackship List*

That contains of four categories.

Crack Ships.

Toxic Ships.

Other... Decent Ships.

And then Tom and Jake in their own little corner. ❤️ DON'T ASK WHY. THAT'S JUST HOW IT IS.

TOTAL DRAMA IS SHIPPING HELL.

"Kai, the team is gathered on this side. What were you doing with the Orange Team?"

WHO SAID THAT?!

"I hope you're not thinking of betraying our team."

HOW WOULD HE DO THAT?! HOW WOULD THAT BENEFIT HIM AT ALL?

"Betrayal is a pretty negative word."

"You have to be loyal to the team or we will eliminate you!"

Um, EXCUSE ME, ARE YOU HOLDING THE TEAM TOGETHER?!

NO? DIDN'T THINK SO. YOU'RE TOO BUSY BEING AN ASS TO EVERYONE.

"Dude, we can't be eliminated on this plain."

XD

Okay that was good XD

"Don't you DARE talk to me like that!"

About what?

YOU'RE A BRAT.

"Attention everyone! Kai is making alliances with the other team!"

AND NOW YOU'RE GONNA TATTLE ABOUT NOTHING.

Oh my god this guy is WHINY...

Ellie's probably watching this at home, like "Oh wow... I feel like I should apologize to Jake."

"Uh... it's fine with me."

"Don't look at me. I would very much like to be excluded from this narrative."

I love that they don't care.

"Just look at his junkie face! You know he can't be trusted!"

Oh my god...

He sounds like a Twitter user.

When your side of the argument doesn't get through to people as the objective fact that it obviously is, what do you do? THROW INSULTS AND ACCUSATIONS. THAT'LL SHOW THEM.

"If you don't agree with me, you're *CENSORED*"

"No man, I don't do drugs... too much..."

WHAT THE HELL?!

THE FACT THAT YOU DO DRUGS AT ALL.

"And you Yul, stop being so prejudice and whiny! Next time you want to judge someone based on their looks, do yourself a favor and say nothing!"

👏

FACTS

"I wanted to yell at him for talking to me like that, but I couldn't utter the words out of my mouth..."

Yeah I hope you get booted first from this team now.

"It's clear that Yul exaggerates and behaves like a spoiled child, but I don't want to get in trouble with anyone. Being here means a lot to me, and I don't want anything to ruin it."

Fair. I would do the same thing.

"I've never felt so out of place before somewhere."

"In the last few days, I've noticed things I hadn't noticed before."

Dude is really that insecure about his age. I get it.

He and Miriam should be besties.

"I've spent my whole life in India, trying to get my acting career off the ground. Now I'm on the other side of the world, alone in unknown territory. I feel like I'm on another planet."

"How did you do it?"

"Just trying to be myself. Because pretending to be someone else will only make people never know the real you."

Yep. Trust me, I know that.

And yet where I grew up, pretending to be someone other than yourself was 'THE COOL' thing to do, and you get a lot more respect by being someone that isn't yourself.

So sad that's how the world is.

She's interesting. I like her.

And yes, I still stand by my claim that SHE IS GORGEOUS.

Oh wow we've fast forwarded through everything, didn't we?

"I have these cards to get to know a person better."

Oh, he's actually legit about it.

This guy is so bad at socializing, holy gosh... XD

It's kinda sweet though.

ARE YOU MENDING A CROCODILE?!?!?!?!?

EYO, WHAT?!?!?

"You're good at this game."

*Cough* She got three votes last time. *Cough*

"I get along well with animals. We understand each other better."

"Have you been getting along with everyone?"

What do you think?

"I think most people don't get too close because of my character."

Yeah, cause you've been a KAREN the past episode.

"Hey James, it seems that... oh..."

XD

"GODDAMMIT, I LEAVE YOU FOR TWO SECONDS AND YOU BAIL ON ME. SOME FAKE BOYFRIEND."

"How are you guys doing?"

"We're fine."

They're fine XD

"Nah I do these kinds of shifts every day. You know. You guys aren't on your phone at four in the morning?"

"No we don't need a doctor, what are you talking about?"

"I could do this all day."

*Gets an Oreo Ad*

OVER OREOS, BABYYYYYYYYY

"I'm starting to feel my eyes getting really heavy..."

First time?

"Do you like to dance? Let's dance."

WHAT? XD

That's out of nowhere.

"I don't know if I'm gonna make it..."

"DANCE."

We're actually doing this XD

I mean does it work?

No.

He died.

Sure. Why not.

I don't hate either, so go ahead.

"He already has experience enduring sleep. Right Oliver?"

He's dying.

"Yes Mr McLean, bread and water is fine..."

He's hallucinating Total Drama. Oh no.

"I brought you a drink so you can hydrate a little."

It's poison. Bet right now.

"You haven't eaten anything for many hours."

WAIT WHOA WHAT-

HANG ON. YOU'RE STARVING THEM?! HELLO?!?!

Or am I hearing that wrong?

"Good. I'm starving."

No I heard that right.

That's more sick than anything else.

"Did I forget to mention that those juices also have strong sleeping pills?"

AND THERE IT IS. POISON.

Also, you DRUGGED THEM. YOU'RE SICK.

"How dare you drug us without our consent!"

And now I agree with her.

"I went too far?"

"No Miss Crystal. It won't hurt them."

THEY DIE.

THEY DIED.

YOU KILLED THEM.

"I'm between Karol and James. What do you think?"

Yeah. Saw that coming.

"I would vote for James. He always leaves his underwear on the floor."

NO WAY, CAN HE AND HAROLD BE FRIENDS?

"She also wants to eliminate one of the girls."

So we're even. Cool.

"Great. That's all I needed to hear."

I don't like how he said that.

What are you planning?

HEY. HEY DON'T WALK AWAY SUS. GET BACK HERE.

...lady, honestly, you freak me out too.

YOU SHOULD NOT BE AROUND THESE THINGS.

"There's something you need to know."

"What are you doing?!"

I'M WITH HIM. WHAT ARE YOU DOING. YOU HAVE A TIE SET.

"Karol proposed to Aiden to vote for one of you."

OKAY WAIT, WHAT?

So... girls alliance. You caught onto that.

So your plan is to persuade them to boot Karol? Your ONLY shot at evening those numbers???

THAT DOESN'T BENEFIT YOU AT ALL.

"I didn't tell everyone!"

YEAH. WHO IS 'EVERYONE'?

EVERYONE ON THIS TEAM, WHO ONLY JUST NOW HEARD IT FROM JAMES.

WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!

I mean, I don't care about Karol. But DEAR GOD...

"She cannot be trusted."

"YOU can't be trusted."

Honestly, get James out, Aiden. Do it.

He stalks you, he uses you, he lies to you, and he has NO CONSENT.

Get him out and CALL THE POLICE.

"Would a friend have used me that way?! You could've at least told me what you were going to do!"

EXACTLY.

"Look, I know it looks wrong now, but it was the right thing to do."

NO IT WAS NOT.

"I didn't have to let her down like that."

You DIDN'T. THAT'S THE THING.

"Also, how would it benefit us if Karol is eliminated?"

THANK YOU.

THIS MAN IS SPEAKING STRAIGHT FACTS.

"Right now, Lake, Rosa, and Maggy are together. It's only a matter of time before Karol joins them."

EVEN THEN, YOU'RE OUTNUMBERED.

"We could try to do something together with Karol!"

WORDS OUT OF MY MOUTH.

"You may not understand now, but you'll thank me later."

NO. YOU TELL ME NOW.

I WANT AN EXPLANATION AND I WANT IT NOOOOWWW

Poor Aiden. Seriously.

Apparently you have two brain cells.

JAMES outed you. Not him!

I SUPPORT THIS ONE.

GET THIS STALKING MANIPULATIVE ASSHOLE OUT.

'AIDEN'

'JAMES'

Get em out.

'KAROL'

Yeah. This is predictable.

'KAROL'

Dang. Didn't even need to read all of them.

"I hope you leave soon, Aiden! You are a traitor!"

🙄

I mean... at least you're happy I guess.

That was Episode 2.

I don't get James's plan. I don't. Why are you like this??

And now Aiden is against you? You screwed yourself.

I would pay the "Pick a Best Girl/Best Boy" game again, but uh... most of the boys here, at least so far, are kinda ass.

I support Aiden wanting James out though.

I don't care about Karol, or her weird... habits... but I expected her to be a lot more annoying than she was.

So... yeah. If you guys want me to continue these reactions, be sure to let me know. I'm willing to continue this show.

[novellagg]

NOW PLAYING ──

[▶] Clip 1: Scaredy cat line playing a horror game on a livestream, but Eunjeong and Sujin can't stop swearing.

They hadn't even played 5 minutes of the game, yet Aina was already cowering in the back of the webcam, passing the mouse over to Sujin instead. Once their character reached an ominous looking black door, Su-Jin abruptly paused.

“There is no way I'm going inside.”

“Come on guys, it isn't even that scary-” Eunjeong snatched the mouse from Su-Jin and opened the door. Suddenly, a loud scream emerged from the computer's speakers- “FU**”

The room instead filled with their silent laughter and wheezing as they tried to recover from the jumpscare. Meanwhile, the live chat struggled to keep up with the amount of ‘ㅋㅋㅋ’ and ‘jajaja’ being spammed.

Two more jumpscares and a lot more swearing later, a staff member came into the room and hurriedly told them to end the live.

A few days later, Aina went live again, this time alone in her studio.

“Did you get scolded?” She giggles while hiding her face in her hands, “yeah the unnies got scolded a lot by our manager… I think they might be banned from going live.”

[▶] Clip 8: Nari is worryingly competitive during the pepero game.

“Hey. don't pull away from me no matter what.” Nari gave Aina an 'ok' gesture with her hands as she placed the chocolate stick between her lips.

“Okay, whenever you're ready.” The MC spoke from behind Nari and Aina, watching closely to make sure there was no foul play.

Nari and Aina moved towards each other with sudden haste, causing the members to let out a chorus of shocked gasps. For just a moment, Aina hesitated and began to laugh, but Nari kept going, causing them to kiss abruptly before falling apart.

The entire studio erupted into chaos.

“What?! Did you just kiss??” Someone yelled.

Aina looked defeated, lying on the floor and clutching her stomach as she let out a painful laugh.

“Hey! So what!" Nari jumped up with the crumb in her hands and kissed Sujin on the cheek.

Amongst all of the pandemonium, the MC just stood there, confused, and in silence.

[▶] Clip 12 + 13: Dambi being a homosexual on ‘Bi-Live’.*

*Bi-Live is what she calls her live streams.

"Have you ever given white day chocolates? No, I went to an all girls school.” She kept reading through the live comments absentmindedly, “I got a lot of Valentines Day chocolates, though.”

“Which idol is most your type? Oh-” she doesn't even take 2 seconds to think before answering-“fromis_9 Jiheon, she's so pretty.” Dambi chose to politely ignore the ‘I meant a male idol’ comment that shortly followed.

[▶] Clip 15: Aecha being interrogated by Jonathan on theKstarnextdoor for her compulsive butt spanking habits.

“This next one is for Aecha Noona. K-Butt sniper-” Nari, Haeun, and Dambi instantly burst out laughing.

“Wow. I had a feeling this was gonna to be talked about.” Nari jested while smiling.

“Yeah, it really needs to be brought up more. It's becoming troublesome.” Dam-Bi added with a straight face.

“We have multiple pictures of you touching the members butts, is there a magnet or…? What do you have to say for yourself?” Jonathan held up a collage of at least 20 pictures.

Aecha giggled nervously, pupils shaking as she scanned the paper. “Um, how do I respond to this?-" The studio audibly laughs around her- “their butt's are very satisfying to squeeze, like a fidget toy you know?” Her hands were squeezing the air in a very, *questionable* way.

“Ok, that's nice, but can you please put your hands down? I don't want our show to be rated 19+.”

───

A/N: whoops, guess who made this in a rush instead of studying for their mock exams (*＾3＾)/～☆ i wasn't gonna post this but i spent so long trying to edit the graphic in my tablet so i thought i'd share ♡ creds to @/desi6ner for the template!

[gendervapor14]

two fights for freedom ~ chapter twenty-two: peace would return

Dante wouldn't say a peep about his fruit. What it was called, the full extent of what it could do. It was powerful enough to fix her arm, to attract Doctor Nako’s attention. Wasn’t the clearest on where he even found the kid, other than mirroring Nami and Nojiko’s origin story, which was starting to feel more like a tactic for gaining her trust rather than explaining himself.

After his outrage the night her house was knocked down, she learned his name wasn’t Paul either, though that really did nothing for her benefit. Only confirmed her suspicion that neither of them were innocent explorers.

It was starting to feel like they were in trouble. And whatever was causing this paranoia was dangerous enough, or at least perceivably so, to urge Dante and Paul to keep to themselves. So whatever they were running from wouldn’t start chasing anybody else.

“Mom…?” Nojiko’s voice was a quiet, meek mumble of her usual cadence. Nami had already tucked herself into bed, just watching the conversation. Finally tuckered herself out. “Is it bad…is it bad if I want Arlong to die?”

Bell-mère leaned in to press a kiss to the side of her head. “It’s not bad at all. That son of a bitch is gonna pay for what he did to our family, and what he did to this village. If it were up to me, I’d kill him myself.” Her fingers grasped around her daughter’s arm as she pulled her in. “Genzo, Dante, Paul and I are gonna make it happen.”

posting a lot today and i decided this should be first!! organizing this story is so difficult, oh my goodness. again, concrit is welcome. especially if you notice something about the timeline not making sense. i've done so much cutting and pasting and moving scenes around, it's likely i may have missed something when editing!! there's so much to work with here for one small little brain

title: two fights for freedom rating: M category: F/M, gen content warnings: graphic depictions of violence status: incomplete, twenty-two chapters, 66,042 words relationships: rosinante/bell-mere, cora & law, rosinante & hatchan, bell-mere & rosinante & law & nami & nojiko, rosinante & genzo, bell-mere & genzo characters: rosinante, bell-mere, law, nami, nojiko, genzo, nako, hatchan, arlong, arlong pirates additional tags: canon divergent, fix-it, everybody lives, pre-arlong park, angst with a happy ending, angst and feels, fluff and humor, hurt/comfort, suggestive themes, sexual tension, limes (yes i'm bringing limes back), eventual smut, romance, slow burn, financial issues, broken bones, references to depression, alcoholism, mental health issues, canon backstory, mentioned doflamingo, non-canon backstory (giving bell-mere a backstory), found family, medical inaccuracies, blood and injury, trafalgar d. water law is a little shit, developing friendships, past child abuse, nightmares, self-harm, fake marriage, selective mutism, PTSD, more tags to be added later summary: freedom for one means adventure. exploring all the world has to offer, while avoiding the occasional haunting. freedom for another almost costs an arm and two daughters. a home, a village. perhaps freedom is best sought back-to-back. {a cora and bell-mère lives au}

♥