#start coming up with ideas for fics with a certain character mind and it’s all you can think about for the next week yet the moment you ..

[luvuomi]

just me and kazuha sitting on the couch in the middle of a cozy reading date with each other where he eventually notices i’ve stopped reading and have just been staring at him. he knows fully well what i’m thinking

kazuha: love, please don’t say what i think you’re about to—

me: okay but hypothetically speaking, what if i wrote a fic where you’re an elf and the reader is like an herbalist who lives out in the forest who raises bunnies but then one day one of those bunnies escapes and when they’re chasing after it they eventually run into you whose just holding the bunny and it’s like this cute interaction of an elf and human

kazuha: …….

me: just hypothetically :D

[sunderwight]

SV fic where Luo Bingge discovers that Shen Jiu had a long-lost half-brother or something, and subsequently decides that he's going to infiltrate the minor sect which this "Shen Yuan" belongs to in order to get close to him and then indulge in revenge fantasy 2.0 when it inevitably turns out that Shen Yuan is like Shen Jiu (i.e. a horrible abusive scum teacher).

So Bingge uses some magical object or technique or other, makes himself look like a scrawny 12-14 year old, then puts himself in Shen Yuan's path in hopes of convincing the man to take him on as a disciple. The idea being that after Shen Yuan abuses him, Bingge will be justified in reenacting his Shen Qingqiu Revenge Arc again and maybe finally feeling some closure about the whole thing.

Yes, this is a very deranged plan. No, no one is going to tell the emperor of the three realms that. Bingge also wants it to be clear that this has nothing whatsoever to do with his recent escapade in an alternate universe, except that he was inspired to find Shen Jiu's relative as a consequence of that. But he's absolutely sure that this guy is going to turn out just as rotten as his brother, given the opportunity. That is definitely the only reason he is doing this!

Flash forward about four years. Bingge's retainers are begging on their knees for him to actually come back and do some administrative work. The harem is running itself at this point and they're all very terrified of the situation with Liu Mingyan and Sha Hualing (i.e. ruling with lesbian iron fists) and whatever the heck Ning Yingying is up to (no one is certain but it's something). The outer provinces are rebelling. Mobei Jun's somehow found another weird human surnamed Shang to cavort with, except this one is basically running admin for the entire northern kingdom now and no one's even sure if they're fucking or if it's some kind of mind control situation or what.

Bingge is annoyed. He doesn't have a good explanation for why a bunch of demon lords would be showing up on the doorstep of Tiny Cultivation Sect to beg him for anything. They're going to spoil his cover! And they're interrupting his schedule! It's already four o'clock and he hasn't started on Shizun's dinner yet! Shoo! Get lost!

Anyway, eventually some of his demon followers get desperate and dramatically kidnap him. Shen Yuan is horrified and grieved when it seems that his precious disciple, so like white lotus Luo Binghe from the novel, has been captured by demons. He tries to track the assailants down, but they've covered their tracks too well. In the end, there's only one path left to him to pursue: taking this matter to the protagonist!

Yes, the protagonist! Because the thing is, Shen Yuan noticed the similarities between his disciple and the book character he so admired. Not only that, but he did manage to glimpse Bingge one time from afar. It wasn't anywhere near to a real interaction, but it was enough for him to notice the strong resemblance between the protagonist and the mistreated little lamb who showed up at his doorstep. A resemblance for which there can only be one explanation:

Shen Yuan's disciple is one of Binghe's kids!

Yes, he had it figured out since fairly early on. Not only was there a resemblance, and not only were their dispositions quite similar, but also the boy showed a lot of signs of some demonic heritage. Shen Yuan was just working up to broaching the subject, partly because he had been trying to avoid any direct or even indirect interactions with the emperor, and partly because he... became somewhat reluctant to part ways with his student. Sue him! He got attached! And anyway, he knew how missing child plots usually went. There was probably someone in the harem who was out for his disciple's blood, and it wouldn't be safe to send him back into that mess until he was strong enough to look after himself.

But as is inevitable, the plot seems to have reclaimed Shen Yuan's student all on its own.

He just... needs to make sure that it isn't a tragic outcome. It seems it falls on him to make the emperor aware of his son's survival, and subsequent peril, and help launch a rescue!

Which also means approaching Luo Binghe in person, which he knows is very risky indeed, due to his connection to the infamous Shen Qingqiu! He'd been avoiding the protagonist at all costs for that exact reason.

But if it's his only hope of rescuing his disciple, he will simply have to take the risk, and hope that enough time has passed that Luo Binghe doesn't read too much into a shared surname and a passing resemblance. Or that restoring the emperor's long-lost son to him will be worth seem lenience for the crime of being connected to Shen Qingqiu. Maybe if he's lucky, he will even be allowed to continue visiting his disciple! (Ha, yeah right! More likely, Luo Binghe's going to take his head for hiding his own kid from him for so long!)

Anyway, cue Luo Bingge running around swapping between his Emperor and Disciple forms, dramatically trying to orchestrate a situation where he can fake the emperor's death and go back to the sect with Shizun as his disciple, or something, only for it all to blow up in his face because Shen Yuan keeps flinging himself between Bingge and potentially fatal threats that could plausibly kill him???

[ultravioletrayz]

So my idea for degradation fic involving Miguel would be something like this- (also please keep an open mind this idea is kinda out there)

So lets say Miguel is your mentor and you are so eager to please and do good work. You have always been kinda good at everything so people complementing you and telling you how great you are is nothing new. But Miguel is different, he's hard to please. So when you do something right he's not complementing you and that is odd for you, and when you mess something up well...he's quick to criticize you. this stirs something within you.

So you keep trying to please him and he's not into it he just keeps bringing you down and reader is starting to like it, sometimes wanting messing up. So lets say reader makes a big mistake on a mission and Miguel is ready to yell and degradant them but reader is getting turned on by it and Miguel noted it so he starts to degradant them more and it starts getting into NSFW territory. while he's getting into it he's just saying filth to you. "your so such a needy slut" "look at you getting turned on while I bully you, pathetic" "you want to be a good girl? you want me to praise you? too bad...now open..." *spits in readers mouth*

then if you can end it off where reader in passed out and thats when he's sweet in the aftercare when she dosn't know. he will open up to her one day just not yet.

Not even gonna lie, if Miguel was a meanie towards me i wouldn’t know whether to cry or cum.

Pairing: miguel o’hara x f!spiderperson!reader

Warnings: 18+, degrading kink, rough sex, fingering, orgasm denial/mild edging, getting bent over miguel’s desk, marking, clit slapping (like, once), pull-out method, absolutely terrible and rushed ending, miguel being mean, horny, and ultimately just socially-awkward

Summary: you strive for perfection in all areas… until the opportunity arises where doing the opposite will give you access to the perfection inside your mean boss’s boxers.

A/N: before anyone tries to come for me for making miguel seem like an asshole in this fic, ik that this isn’t entirely true to miguel’s character. however, i’m horny and dgaf. enjoy!!

Word Count: 3K (unedited)

For as long as you could remember, people would refer to you as ‘gifted’. It was as though everything you attempted to achieve was accomplished with ease. In your world, on the days when the Society was a distant memory and you were given the opportunity to act as a true Friendly Neighbourhood Spider-Person, you practically lived in a bubble of praise. Surprisingly, the media worshipped you, recognising you as the hero you are. Locals chanted your name, asked for autographs, and even demanded you accept gifts and tokens of appreciation every time you were spotted in your costume on the streets. 

Although you forced yourself to stay humble within the public eye, you would be lying if you tried to convince yourself that the compliments and special treatment didn’t make you feel good, didn’t push you to be a better superhero for the sake of the citizens who practically worship the ground you walk on.

Which is the primary reason why having to tend to work and assignments at the Spider Society caused you so much misery. When you were first recruited, a few other Spider-People had mentioned how short-tempered and cold the boss is, but you had expected to win him over with your natural, over-achieving flare. That goal was quickly crushed when you met Miguel O’Hara for the first time. He had immediately lectured you on certain habits he had observed from footage of you fighting crime at home, giving you strict instructions on how to be better at your job. From then on, you’ve tried your best to view his constant criticism as a positive and value his (poor) attempts at mentoring you. 

It didn’t take long for you to realise that he wasn’t really trying to help you, and he was just a grumpy asshole as everyone had warned and wanted you to follow orders rather than going out and trying to prove yourself constantly. Lately, you’ve been slipping up, making mistakes. You had come to terms with the fact that Miguel wasn’t interested in showing you any appreciation or praise for your hard work, and it had begun to affect your performance on missions, bringing you to this point. 

“What the hell was that?” Miguel snarls at you, his platform lowering as he slams his fist on his desk and glares at you, his sharp red eyes burning holes in your pretty, sad little face. You had almost let an anomaly get away, blinded by your insecurities and Miguel’s lack of interest in your skills, you would have destroyed an entire universe if it weren’t for the backup Miguel had sent you.

“Miguel, let me explain-” You start, being cut off by an angry huff from Miguel.

“I’m sick of the excuses. I don’t care about how you handle shit in your own dimension. When you come here and are trusted to keep the multiverse stable, I expect you to do as you’re told. Unless the small task of containing the minor anomalies I assign you is too much to handle?” Miguel scoffs, shaking his head as he looks you up and down.

The look of disappointment on his tan, chiselled face would usually have you on the verge of tears, but as you’ve grown accustomed to his harsh beratement, it’s begun to have a very different effect on you. You can just imagine him, brushed back curls dishevelled and clinging messily to his face as he pounds into your needy pussy, whispering absolute filth into your ear as he uses you to get off. The thought has you practically soaking through your Spider-Suit, causing you to instinctively squeeze your thighs together as you force yourself to keep your gaze from dropping to Miguel’s broad, muscular physique. As his glare intensifies and he rolls his eyes at your subtle movements, you know he’s got you figured out.

Miguel’s heightened senses pick up on your current state of arousal, the scent of your slick making him dizzy as it clouds his mind. He had always beaten himself up about how harsh he could be towards you, reflecting on his cruelty to such a pretty girl with shame and regret. But finding out that you liked being treated so poorly by him, it has him going fucking crazy.

“Por el amor de Dios,” (for fuck’s sake) Miguel hisses, taking a step towards you, looming over your smaller form with a judgemental scowl plastered on his face. “You’re pathetic. Risking everything we work for here, just so that you can imagine me yelling at you while you finger-fuck yourself at night?”

Your eyes widen, his words reigning true as they hang in the air of the room. Yet, you make a miserable attempt at denying the accusation by shaking your head softly and taking a step back. Miguel only moves closer to you, intimidating you with his mere presence as his scowl curls into a cruel smirk.

“No me mientas, hermosa,” (don’t lie to me, beautiful) He whispers, one of his large, calloused hands grabbing your face and pulling you back towards him, fingers squeezing your cheeks as his breath hits your skin, sending shivers up and down your spine. “You’re usually so eager to please me. Did you think I was stupid enough not to notice when you started messing things up?”

“Miguel-” You whine, voice muffled due to the way he squishes your cheeks together, making your pretty lips jut out in a sad little pout.

“It always annoyed me how bubbly and determined you are,” He admits bluntly, sharp red eyes scanning your face, before trailing down to watch the way your thighs rub together in a pitiful attempt to alleviate the arousal coursing through you due to his relentless disparagement. “But I didn’t think you’d resort to acting like a dirty whore just because I’m not impressed by the ‘Friendly Neighbourhood’ act.”

His free hand trails down your body, fingers gliding between the valley of your breasts, down your stomach, and stopping just above the crotch of your Spider-Suit. He chuckles lowly as he watches the way you squirm in his grasp, hips attempting to roll against his hand for any kind of friction. 

If we had to be completely honest, he actually enjoyed watching you work. You really are gifted, always applying yourself to missions. When he heard you would be handling an anomaly for him, he would feel relieved, even proud. But he knew that any compliments he gave you would just be lost in the sea of praise you already received. So, in order to set himself apart, he decided he was going to be a complete dickhead to you. He figured bullying you would motivate you to seek him out in a crowd, make you strive to impress him and show off to him, and ultimately bring the two of you closer. It was shameful, how awful he is at making first impressions, that he’d rather hurt a beautiful young girl’s feelings as opposed to being a reliable boss and potential friend. But now knowing that he hadn’t completely ruined his chances at getting closer to you, he was certainly going to take full advantage of this new development.

“Now look at you, you don’t wanna be a good girl for me anymore, nena?” Miguel teases, grinning as he sees the need and innocence in your eyes as he releases your face with a harsh push. “You wanna be a dumb little slut for your fucking boss, instead?”

You want to say no, want to deny his harsh words and hopefully gain back some of the dignity he was stripping away from you, but your body yearns for Miguel’s touch, his degradation fueling your most carnal desires, and you nod your head frantically. Miguel sighs at your eagerness, tapping your cheek firmly as he wraps a hand around your throat, not applying any pressure but allowing his thumb to lazily stroke the side of your neck.

He leans in to bite your bottom lip hard, causing you to cry out in pain and open your mouth. He takes the opportunity and slams his plump lips against yours, tongue intertwining around yours inside your warm mouth as he groans into the sloppy, demanding kiss. His hand drops from your throat as his bulging arms tuck themselves underneath the fat of your ass and he lifts you up, carrying you over to his platform and dumping you on top of his desk, lips never leaving yours. Miguel’s razor-sharp claws protrude from his fingertips, slicing through the material of your Spider-Suit and prompting a startled yelp from you as he rips your clothes right off your body. 

The matching set you have on underneath has his dick thrumming in his suit, and he almost loses sight of his initial plan in a desperate temptation to worship your gorgeous body and shower you with the praise that he knows you deserve. But he wants to be different, wants to hold a special place in your heart, and this was the only way to do it. 

“You wore these for me, didn’t you?” He hisses flippantly against your lips, throwing the rags of your once cute little Spider-Suit across his office, before tearing your bra open from the middle with just the strength of his grip, claws retracting back into the pads of his fingers. “Puta de mierda.” (fucking whore)

Miguel flips your body over on his desk with ease, your face now pressed against the cold, hard material as Miguel leaves a trail of deep bite marks and hickeys across the exposed skin of your back, making his way down to your clothed pussy at an agonising pace, your ass wiggling enticingly to try and convince Miguel to give you what you want, what you need from him. Miguel peels your soaked panties off of you, tossing them onto his desk chair for later, as his fingers run up and down your already dripping folds, causing him to chuckle to himself.

“I never would’ve pegged you for a girl who gets off on this kind of thing,” Miguel whispers as his fingers explore your wetness, his tone much softer as his sharp, red eyes admire the way your body looks bent over his desk. He snaps himself out of his trance, opting to tap on your clit harshly with his fingers to bring himself back to a place of lust and callousness, and to tease you further.

Miguel dips his two fingers into your cunt, making you moan and cry out, your hands gripping the edge of Miguel’s desk as you push your hips back to fuck yourself on his thick fingers. He pumps his digits in and out of you at a leisurely pace, curling them to hit that sweet, gummy spot inside of you each time they delve deeper into your pussy. Miguel groans at the way you clench around his fingers as he thrusts them into you, his knuckles drenched in your arousal as he watches the way you grind against his hand when his thumb rubs your pulsing clit to stimulate you further. 

You’re completely falling apart at his touch, the way his fingers deliciously stretch your hole making you see stars as you approach your climax. Just as you’re about to cum, Miguel pulls his fingers out of your cunt and gives your clit a harsh slap, making you whine as your entrance twitches at the sudden loss.

“Sluts don’t get to cum ‘til I say so, muñeca.” Miguel taunts, disabling his nano-tech suit, the holographic material dissolving and revealing his tall, tan, muscular, the mere feeling of him towering over you from behind making you moan against his desk. He holds his fat, stiff cock in one hand, dragging it between your folds and gathering the slick trickling down your thighs as he scoffs at the way you tremble and spasm at his touch. “Especially sluts like you.”

Miguel plunges his dick into your pussy aggressively, bottoming out in one harsh slam of his hips against your ass and causing you to scream, his hand coming down to cover your mouth and muffle your echoing moans as he delivers fast, disciplining thrusts into the depths of your core, tip kissing your cervix with each frenzied movement. His cock rams into you mercilessly as he digs one hand into the plush of your waist while the other holds your head up, the two fingers he was using to play with your pussy forcefully entering your mouth. On instinct, you wrap your lips around them and suck the remnants of your essence off of his skin, moaning and choking on his thick digits as Miguel’s length stretches you to the brink of what is possible for your tight little pussy to handle and his balls slap against your puffy clit.

“Pussy was fucking made for me,” He grunts, delivering a smack to your juicy ass, the sting making you whine against his fingers, saliva dribbling down your chin and saturating the desk below your face. “Squeezing me so tight. It’s a shame that this pretty cunt can’t make up for how shit you are at your job. Maybe I won’t bother assigning you missions anymore? I’ll just call you in when I need a hole to fuck.” 

Wow. He really did think of you as useless. You had always considered yourself to be good at what you do. At home, you were a hero. Here, bent over your boss’s desk and being fucked so mercilessly, you felt like nothing but a whore. You cry, tears rolling down your cheeks as you moan and squeal with each thrust of Miguel’s thick cock into your hungry pussy. Despite your underlying feelings of shame for your recent failures as an employee, being fucked like a slut by the very man you’ve been fantasising about since the first time you had the displeasure of meeting was able to snap you out of your sadness and overwhelm you with passion.

Hearing you sob around his fingers fills Miguel with a sharp pang of guilt, but he brushes it off and pounds into you harder to remind himself of his end goal, breaking you down until he can make you his. If you really were as into his cruelty as you seemed, he was going to give you exactly what you so desperately needed.

“Mig-Miguel, I’m- fuck! I’m so close.” You whine, his fingers in your mouth making your voice come out as a spluttering cry. 

Miguel pulls his soaked fingers out of your mouth and holds your waist with both hands, fucking his cock impossibly deeper inside of you as the sound of skin slapping against skin and both of your desperate, breathy sounds of pleasure fill the dark office.

“Beg for it, amor.” He whispers against your ear, his chest pressed flush against your back as he nibbles at the smooth skin of your neck as his dick moves in and out of you at a brutal pace, the veins of his thick length caressing the warm walls of your pussy as he smushes his tip against your sweet spot with each thrust.

“Please, Miguel! I promise I’ll do better. I won’t make another mistake again, I’m gonna be so good, I swear! Better than I’ve ever been!” Your breathless pleas make Miguel feel a conflicting surge of both guilt and power. He watches the way your back arches and your thighs shake as you try so so hard not to cum, to be a good girl for him and follow his orders. At the end of the day, you just wanted him to like you, to see how good of a hero you are, and he knew that. Which is why he’s finding it so fun to toy with you like this.

“Shh, I know. I’ll let you cum, sweetheart.” Miguel coos, tugging on your hair so that he can reach your face and plant a kiss on your tear-stained cheek, his soft, long-awaited act of reassurance contrasting the lewd sounds of squelching as he fucks you with mind-numbing intensity. 

He reflects on his words as he listens to the way his unexpected words make you cry and whimper, and part of him regrets the way he approached your relationship, wishing he had just been honest with you and praised your efforts from the start, rather than being cruel and bending you over his desk to fuck you so harshly. But the way you tighten and pulse around his sensitive dick brings him back to the present, and he gives your waist an encouraging squeeze.

The tiny action of consolation has you spiralling, your vision going spotty as you squirt around Miguel’s fat cock, squeals and moans leaving your glistening lips as your whole body twitches with the all-consuming sensation of your release. Watching as you come undone, Miguel feels himself rapidly approaching his own release. He curses and pulls out of your sopping cunt, watching the way his leaky tip shines with your juices. It sends Miguel over the edge. He lets out a sharp whimper as he cums all over your round ass and your spine, thick globs of his climax staining your sweaty skin and making you exhale shakily. 

The sex and your crying make you pass out on the desk, and Miguel quickly covers you up and carries you to his quarters, laying you down in his bed and tucking you in. He whispers a quick apology to you, letting his cruel persona disappear and showing you how much he actually values you as a colleague and person when he thinks you’re asleep, but you hear everything. 

Maybe you didn’t really need to be praised by Miguel to know that you were good enough. And maybe he didn’t need to be so afraid of showing you that appreciation. For now, though, the angry sex would be a pleasant memory for both of you, in an odd way.

“Get some rest, cariño. You deserve it, for being such a good girl.”

I FINALLY FINISHED IT OMG. Thank you all for being so patient 💜💜

[luvly-writer]

Crimes of a Mother

Batfamily x Latina! Reader

—•—

Author´s note: Hello! Hope all of you are okay! Welcome to my new...whatever this is! (I have no idea if this will be a series or just a one shot...If it does become a series, it will definitely be a short one unlike the others) This is not in ANY of the universes of my other fics. Hope you enjoy!

Warning: None

General Masterlist:

Masterlist:

—•—

City lights. A scream. A dark looming shadow. A manor. Gun shots. It was the same dream every night. A city dark as night and curious as a cat.

Unraveling the never-ending mysteries that Gotham had to offer was one of my fascinations in life. For the longest time, I had held a certain obsession with the city. It always felt as if something was out there...calling me towards the magnificently mysterious place. Mom always tried to discourage it and would say that the city held secrets that would be unwise to uncover. It was a recuring argument in my household and it got worse the moment I told her I was striving to enroll on Gotham University.

SMACK

I snap out of my daydream.

-You know...normally, I don´t mind when you space out, Yn, but if we expect to make it out of here and straight to GU, we seriously NEED to study.

Taylor, my best friend ever since childhood, dropped a book on my desk, and looked at me impatiently. Charles, snorted from his place in my desk chair, watching the entire ordeal amusedly.

-You know it's bad when Tay is the one that wants to study and not you, Y.

-You know, you don't have to follow me all the way to Gotham. Brings out your attachment issues.

-First of all, you bitch, OF COURSE we have to go there. We are the iconic trio of Robinson Academy; we can't be separated. And second, Yn Salazar, you are forbidden of going into this mystery solving quest without your trusty sidekicks. How else is the documentary of your life supposed to be entertaining if you don't have the two dazzling, gay, and hilarious side characters who everyone will make edits of. Duh!

Said Taylor, throwing herself on my bed.

-It is the last Spanish test! Vamos a estar bien, chica! Mr. Soto will probably give out like a short quiz for us to be done with Senior year. Besides, we are ALREADY in! Forgot that piece of information?

Taylor opened her mouth and just shrugged, making Charlie and I laugh.

-Fair.

-Now, let's finish setting up and get started.

We move efficiently, setting up the camera on its tripod and strapping each tiny microphone to ourselves. We get settled on my bed and hit record.

•[Recording]

-Hi! My name is Yn Salazar. Born and raised in Puerto Rico. Currently, it is May 2nd, a week before my last day of high school and three weeks before my graduation. These are my best friends, Charles Martinez and Taylor Perez. Following today, we will be headed for Gotham University. Why Gotham precisely? Well, Gotham is a city full of mischief, madness, and chaos; and I plan to uncover it. From cryptic, to vigilantes, to rouges, this will be only the first of many time capsules. Beware Gotham, I'm coming.

—•—

A FEW MONTHS LATER

Unlike most college students, Charlie, Taylor and I had decided to not go on the dorms and find a three-bedroom apartment close to campus. Seeing as the three of us came from families that were economically well and rent was unsurprisingly cheap in Gotham, we had finally settled last week. Our apartment was fully furnished and decorated, and we still had a few weeks before classes began in September. I had just ended a call with my mom and headed for the living room, where Charlie was seated rewatching House of the Dragon. Taylor was in the kitchen trying out a new recipe she found on Pinterest.

-Ugh!

I say as I throw myself on the couch dramatically

-Your mom still thinks it is a bad idea to come to Gotham?

Taylor screamed from the kitchen.

-YES! I will never get it! What is in here that puts that woman in such a bad mood? All my life, my one dream has been to come to Gotham, I mean this is where every criminal journalist thrives! She is always so paranoid of this city and telling me that the secrets I would find here should stay hidden and for me to give it a rest. I think it is because my father lives here and if he does, who is he? Every time I ask, I get the same speech of powerful men and their ways...My mom has good judgement! I don't think she would have been with just anyone. For fuck's sake, she is one of the smartest and highest paid psychologists in Puerto Rico. I need to find out what this city is hiding...what happened to mom when she lived here.

-More like who happened probably

Muttered Charlie.

-EXACTLY! It is even worst that she sent me here with this letter to give to a Mr. Bruce Wayne.

-The Billionaire? (T)

-I guess...maybe I can interrogate him and see if that gets me a lead on this entire thing.

-When are you going? (C)

-After we drop you at soccer practice and T at rehearsal.

-FUCK I THINK I BURNT IT!!!

-TAYLOR!!!!

Charles and I got to her rescue laughing.

-Looks like we will be having takeout tonight

She said with a laugh

----

-That is one creepy ass manor...

I mutter from my driver seat. I press the button on the intercom near the gate. It buzzes and a voice with a distinct English accent speaks up,

-Good evening, with what may I help you today?

-Yeah...uh...hi! My name's Yn Salazar. I came to deliver a letter for Mr. Wayne...it's from Valentina Salazar.

-Oh dear...I'll let you pass straight away.

I hear the gate buzz and open. I drive in and park my car just outside. We had all pitched in and bought a car because we knew Gotham was not the best of places to walk around during the night. So, this is more convenient.

I take a deep breath and grab my bag, making sure my notepad is there, with my phone and wallet. I double check that the letter is there and once I see it, I get out of the car and lock it. I walk towards the entrance and just before I go to open the door, a man dressed like a butler opens it.

-You must be young Miss Salazar.

-Yn's just fine, and yeah that's me

The man takes a second to look at me, slight shock in his features. I observe him from head to toe and try to give him a smile. Top ten weirdest encounters ever. He moves aside and gestures for me to enter.

-Right this way, miss, Master Bruce is in his study expecting you.

I inspect everything around me as I follow the man. As we walk past one of the doors, I hear a bunch of screaming and I peak inside. Five guys, all varying in sizes and two girls, one blonde and another with raven hair are seen playing Mario Kart. I stay for second when one of them catches my eye and we make eye contact. He furrows his brow and I panic and leave, catching up to the butler.

We finally reach the study, and he knocks. A faint “Come in” is heard and I'm led inside.

-Young Miss Salazar

The butler announces and takes his leave. The man, Bruce Wayne takes one look at me and goes rigid. We stay a few seconds just looking at each other. His eyes show shock and disbelief. Mine I can guess show curiosity and uncertainty.

-This is for you!

I cringe at how awkward I sound. Great job, Yn, he already fucking knows that. He coughs and nods as I walk towards him and hand him the letter. I take a seat and wait patiently for him to open it and read it. I play with my fingers as silence engulfs us.

-You are Valentina's kid?

-That is corrrect

-How old are you?

-I turned 18 back in February.

-I see...

His face pales at the revelation and he continues reading. I didn't think it was possible for this man to get any paler, yet he does once he is done reading the letter.

-How did you know my mom?

I went directly to the point

-We were close friends

-How close? She never once mentioned this supposed friendship

He flinches at that statement,

-Valentina is a woman of many secrets

-On that we can agree, how close?

He observes me for a moment, and I harden my gaze on him. The corner of his tilts up slightly, clearly amused by me.

-Close

-How informative of you. Did you attend Gotham Academy together?

-Yes.

-Hmmm, have you any clue on why she left Gotham?

-I don't think it is my position to give that information

-How noble, have you any memory of who were her friends aside from you, of course?

-I may. Yn, is it?

-Yes.

-I suggest you follow your mother's advice and keep away from this. Your mother is a good woman and anything from the past should be placed at rest. Some skeletons are meant to stay in the closet.

-Did you know who was my father?

I push one last time and I see him take a sharp intake of air.

-Ah...so you do, wonderful.

-Yn...

-Thank you for your time today, Mr. Wayne. I can assure you this won't be the last time you will see me. Here's my mother's number. You can call her and tell her yourself that her plan to shoo me away from my investigation has been unsuccessful and that getting her “close friend” to deter me from it as well will do nothing. Good day.

I stand up to leave and Mr. Wayne just observes me as I take my leave. Alfred, who I just learnt his name, leads me back to the door. We pass by the kitchen where the group I saw earlier are gathered muttering. They see me and quiet down, just observing me. I raise my eyebrow at them. I hear a low “He got another one?” as I continue on my way. Finally, we get to the door, and I thank Alfred for him time. I get on my car and look up, seeing Mr. Wayne watching me from one of the windows and the group of people trying to be discreet from another window. “This won't be the last time they see me for sure”, I think to myself as I connect my phone to the car and play Running Up That Hill by Kate bush as I drive away.

—•—

Back in Bruce's study, Alfred interrupts his train of thought as he watches the car leave.

-Is that who I am to believe it is?

-And who might you think that is, Alfred?

-Don't play coy with me boy, I can detect a Wayne from a mile away. That girl is yours.

Alfred replied courtly. Bruce walks back and hands him the letter. His eyebrows raise high on his head as he reads.

-I have never met anyone with Wayne blood that was not troublesome, and it seems, this one will keep you with your hands full for some time.

-What gave her away?

-Her eyes, master Bruce. That scrutinizing and calculative gaze is one that can only be found in anyone related to you, blood or not. You have another young detective in your hands, and this one just as brilliant.

-That is what worries all of us.

-•-

Tell me what do you guys think about this draft? Should it be a fic? Are y'all interested? Should there be a taglist? Leave me a comment or a reblog :)

[kookslastbutton]

Best Intentions ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: As vice president, you are obligated to attend your boss's wedding–you're also his friend. But while you should be focused on the newlyweds, you find yourself far too interested in the attractive best man and the woman who happens to be his plus one.

Pairing: best man!yoongi x vice president!reader

AU/genre: angst, smut, slight thriller, s2l, oneshot

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 3,753

Warnings: No infidelity, dark yoongi, sexual content, death (not major character)

sexual warnings: dom!yoongi, sub!reader, cussing, handj*b, unprotected s*x (don't follow their lead!), penetration, car sex, d*rty talk, they c*me together, yoongi has tattoos

Now Playing: Haegeum

A/N: Little nervous about this one butI haven't written fic inspired by Haegeum yet so here we go! Hope you enjoy 💞

You watch as he brushes a few pieces of his dark locks out of his face. Never have you seen such a handsome and alluring man. He takes a seat on the barstool, nodding at the bartender in greeting. “Whiskey, neat. And a sex on the beach for the lady.”

He turns his head over his right shoulder, sparing a glance at the gentle hand resting on him. The woman who it belongs to is nothing short of radiant and confident. Her body is athletically built, her skin soft but tough. Her name is Yeong-Ja and she happens to be his plus one.

“__.” She smiles at you with ruby-red lips. “Why don’t you join us?” Her tone is thick and laced with sensuality. You fight the temptation but you feel instantly small compared to her. It’s not that you find yourself unattractive or anything but Yeong-Ja has a certain aura that’s incredibly rare.

The man, Min Yoongi, sets his gaze on you with a similar intensity. You only met the both of them about half an hour ago and they were already perfectly successful at making your bones quake. You’ve heard the idea of power couples a million times and though Min Yoongi and Yeong-Ja weren't officially together, you'd be a fool to think I'd never happen. They came here together after all.

“Thank you for the invite,” you reply, keeping your eyes as firm as you can. “But I still need to pay my respects to President Kim and his lovely new wife.”

Yeong-Ja taps Yoongi twice, signaling him to stand up. “I need to do that too actually. Why don’t we go together?”

He stays seated despite her gesture. “The drinks haven’t come out yet. I’ll wait for them if you two wanna go.” He looks at you again with his piercing, cat-like eyes. “You sure you don’t want anything __?”

You smooth down the sides of your dress, a nervous response you picked up since a teenager. You wish he wouldn’t follow the movement but he does. “Sure, maybe a strawberry daiquiri.”

Yoongi gives a nod and asks the bartender to include it in the order. “Thank you,” you say.

“Shall we?” Yeong-Ja breaks from Yoongi to near your side. “President Kim’s about to have a ton of guests giving their congratulations. It’s best we do it before the newlyweds run out of steam.”

You nod and make your way to the wedding table.

"Congratulations President and Mrs. Kim." You bow in respect until you're pulled into a light hug.

"Thank you __," Mrs. Kim says. You'd be surprised by the hug if it weren't for the fact that the two of you have known each other since before she and your boss first started dating.

You were the one to set them up actually.

You never thought you'd have that much gull with your boss but you and Seokjin had been working together for a long time. You considered him a friend.

"I'm very happy for the both of you." You smile warmly and embrace Mrs. Kim a little tighter. "And you make such a beautiful bride."

Once broken apart, Yeong-Ja bows herself. "President Kim, Mrs. Kim." They bow in return. "I'm honored to be a guest at your wedding. I wish you both a strong, healthy marriage."

Mrs. Kim smiles wide and touches the woman on the wrist. "Thank you Yeong-Ja....I'm hoping to be a guest at your wedding as well. If you don't mind me asking, how long have you and Yoongi been seeing each other?"

Swallow it. That suddenly sick, queasy feeling in your stomach. If Yoongi was planning to get serious with Yeong-Ja, it's none of your business.

Yeong-Ja blushes and lets out a small chuckle. "Of course, I'll be sure to invite you to my wedding but I'm afraid that won't be anytime soon. Yoongi and I have only been seeing each other for a couple of weeks."

Weeks? With the chemistry they have you figured they were at least at months.

"I wouldn't be too set on it being far out into the future," Seokjin says. "One of my colleagues got married after only six months of dating his girlfriend."

"Who was that?" You mouth to which he replied with 'gguk'. Ah, makes sense now.

"Plus," Seokjin continues, "Yoongi's always talking about you and that's saying a lot considering he's pretty brief in general. Whatever you got, it's keeping his attention." He blinks up and cracks a smirk. "Speak of the devil."

Yoongi walks towards the group of you with a drink in each hand. You really need to not stare at his perfectly chiseled face, stoic eyes, and slicked-back hair. Especially after hearing that he's been practically gushing about Yeong-Ja. Still, a bitch doesn't listen.

"Strawberry daiquiri." He passes you your drink before handing Yeong-Ja hers. "And a sex on the beach." He keeps a straight face as he does this.

You notice he's taken his suit jacket off since your last interaction. His sleeves are rolled up too, veins softly protruding.

"Many thanks," you say, taking a sip. "Where's your whiskey?" You distinctively remember him asking the bartender for one but it's nowhere in sight.

Yoongi gives a quick shrug. "Already drank it."

Before another word is spoken the stereos in the reception are cranked up. Yeong-Ja takes a sip of her drink and then snakes her hand into Yoongi's arm. "Come on, we should dance. You too __."

You shake your head. Absolutely not. Dancing is fun when you're with friends but not so much with couples. You learned that the hard way many times when you'd be told that you'll all dance together.

Wrong for you to fall for that.

As soon as a slow, sensual song came on, you'd be hitting the bar or going back to your claimed table in the corner.

"No I'm good. I wanna sit and enjoy my drink for now." You lift your glass to make your point clearer.

Yeong-Ja smiles at you, then tightens her grip around Yoongi's arm and drags him to the dance floor.

You try not to watch them.

You even try sitting in the chair facing opposite of them.

But you look like a wallflower.

Several men come up to you to ask you if you want to dance, thinking you're only waiting for an invitation. Nice of them to offer but you take no interest.

The only man you remotely have your mind on is currently being swayed by another woman. And after about twenty minutes of watching, you find out that Yeong-Ja is not only a sharp thinker and sweet talker—she's also a stunning dancer.

You can tell at first Yoongi is half-assing it but once she starts getting into the beat, his efforts double.

When it comes to the slower songs, however, you can't help but notice a shift in his posture. Yeong-Ja links both arms around his neck in an effort to close the gap between her and Yoongi. It doesn't close, however, as he keeps a safe distance.

It's odd, to say the least but maybe he's just not used to that type of intimacy yet. You continue to study the two of them until you're caught red-handed. Yoongi's eyes shift over to peer into yours.

You have to snap yourself out of your daze a few times. He's definitely just staring off due to the somber music. He's not looking at you.

Oh, shit—he is.

Yoongi traces his eyes down the lines of your dress, all the way down your bare legs and back up to your eyes. His gaze is heavy and gives you goosebumps.

You grip your glass with one hand while the other clings to the edge of your dress, earning you a half-smirk from him.

Fuck.

He's a man of few words but his non-verbals speak volumes.

"She's not his girlfriend." Seokjin looks up at you from his seated position. Mrs. Kim was mingling with some of her close friends so you seized the chance to ask Seokjin about what had just happened. You needed a second opinion. "But they came here together so I assume they're going out. Are you sure he was giving you suggestive looks?"

"I mean, they weren't that suggestive but he definitely body-scanned me and smirked." You pause before continuing. "I'm trying not to think about it in case—uh I don't know. I'm sorry, it's your wedding day and I shouldn't be bothering you about this stuff."

"__, we've been working basically side by side for ten years. Yes I'm your boss still but right now I'd like to think we're friends. You're not bothering me, okay? And as far as Yoongi goes, just ignore it. He was likely smiling at you and it came off as a smirk. If it happens again maybe ask him about it because as far as I know, things are going good between him and Yeong-Ja." Obviously not that well if he's checking out someone else. You bite back the need to speak your mind.

"Okay," you agree. "You're right. It was likely just nothing."

"But you didn't finish your sentence." Seokjin pipes up before you return to your seat. "You're trying not to think about in case what?"

Let's see....how to reply while remaining subtle as possible. Seokjin and Yoongi are close friends so you need to choose your words very carefully.

Telling him you have interest in Yoongi when he's told you over and over again that he's seeing someone would not end well. A classic Kim Seokjin scold would be in dire order.

"....just in case I'm just being foolish or exaggerating what really happened." You say the words casually, no a trace of a fib. "But thanks Seokjin, for letting me talk to you about it."

"Hey." Yoongi catches you in the hallway. Apparently also needed to use the restroom. You do your best to shrug off what happened earlier.

"Hi, how was dancing?" You ask stupidly.

"It was alright. Not usually my thing but I guess I didn't mind. You sure you didn't wanna join us though? Saw a few guys come up to you."

"You saw that?" And here you were thinking you were delusional for thinking Yoongi was purposefully paying attention to you. It causes a twinge of adrenaline to zap through your body. "I didn't really feel like dancing today, that's all."

For a second you and Yoongi exchange silence. You're not sure if he's done talking or if you need to fill the space with more small talk.

"I'm glad it was better for you than usual. Yeong-Ja looks like she knows what she's doing." You fake a small laugh, hoping to break the tension but Yoongi's face remains straight. "Well I should get back in there." You end up slowly walking away but he stops you.

"We don't know each other super well but, I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable earlier."

"What are you refering to?"

Yoongi gives you a 'really' look before flashing a gummy smile. It's the first time tonight you've seen him smile so fully. Your breath hitches as he continues. "I think we both know the answer to that. Don't you know how captivating you look in this dress?"

If your mouth wasn't gaping before it such as heck is now. But as giddy as the compliment makes you, you're in no way going to mess up a potentially blossoming relationship. You sure as hell hope that Yoongi isn't double-crossing Yeong-Ja, even if you do wish you'd be in her shoes a little.

"Um, not to be so forward but aren't you with Yeong-Ja? I appreciate the compliment though I'd—"

"We're not serious."

"Excuse me?" You as so utterly lost. Sure he and Yeong-Ja weren't together officially yet but they came here as each other's date. Seokjin and his wife were also making comments about their supposedly romantic relationship and she wasn't denying it so why is he coming onto you like this?

"That didn't come out right. I mean, we're not together romantically but we do work together. I asked her to come because I figured she'd be good company. Seokjin thinks we mold together well but I'm not really interested. To keep it short, I respect her as a coworker and consider her in the highest regard, professionally."

"You're not lying to me right? Because she seems really interested and I don't want to get in the way of anything. I'm not that type of woman alright?" You cross your arms reflexively.

Yoongi takes a step towards you, focused intent. "I have no reason to lie to you __. It's true Yeong-Ja may be interested but she's not the one I've spent half the night staring at."

The hairs on your neck stand straight. Blood rushes through your veins. "You should probably tell Yeong-Ja your feelings then."

"I did," Yoongi interuppts. "When we were back in there she came onto me. I thought all the slow, romantic music was getting to her but she kept trying to kiss me so I had to tell her I wasn't interested in anything beyond friendship."

"Oh, well, is she okay or—"

"She'll be fine. She's like me, not much fazes her. She's likely hitting on the next guy that takes her fancy now." Yoongi inches closer, and you take in the cologne he's wearing. It's subtle but enough to knock you out of your senses. "So you see, I'm not that kind of man either."

"Well good because I would have kicked you in the balls if you were double-crossing Yeong-Ja."

Yoongi snorts. "I'd expect nothing less. But thankfully, my balls are safe for now."

Great, now you're thinking about his balls. Yoongi's breath blows hot against your skin as the space between you seems to get narrower and narrower.

"Do you wanna get out of here for a bit?" He asks with a hoarse voice. "I was thinking about going out for a quick smoke."

"I don't smo—" Yoongi quirks a provocative brow. "Oh, " you finish, knowing full well he isn't proposing to have just a smoke.

You shudder as he towers above you in the backseat of his Bentley. Evidently, Yoongi did well for himself. "We shouldn't be doing this here." When Yoongi proposed you to go out, you didn't expect him to be this quick to get down and dirty.

Fooling around is one thing, but fucking in the backseat of his car in the middle of a wedding is a whole new animal for you.

"No one's gonna see if that's what you're worried about. Everyone's too busy wishing the newlyweds well..." His car is short on space but Yoongi manages to remove his silk vest. The skin of his smooth chest peeks out near the collar of his dress shirt. "But if you wanna stop here then, I won't force you any further."

God this is so indecent but you want him so, so bad. His body on yours, in yours—fuck him for being this hard to resist. You grip the fabric of his shirt and tug him back down.

Yoongi takes the opportunity to sink his head near your ear. "I was hoping this would be your answer." Your eyes roll up when he places a hot, open-mouth kiss on your neck. It's not sloppy but rather controlled as if hinting that this isn't his first go around.

"Take it out for me sweetheart." He coos after a few more nips at your jaw. The look of bewilderment on your face brings out a cocky smirk. "Please?"

His eyes turn playful as he watches you fumble with his belt. "Sorry," he says. "I usually prefer doing this myself but given the position we're in, it's better you do it." You nod. "I'd also take my time with you if it weren't for the fact that we're in my car right now." Who's fault is that? You bite down your bitterness.

"I understand." You pull at his belt buckle, releasing the leather from its hold. He groans when the tips of your fingers graze his bulge. Once you unzip the front of his pants you reach forward to free his cock.

"Fuck," Yoongi breathes, his hard length pulsating in your hand. You whimper and reflexively squeeze him harder. "Shit, don't."

You feel hot all over, drunk on the pleasure he's getting from this. "But you like this," you say, moving your hand up and down his shaft. Arousal pools in your panties as you watch him struggle to gain his composure. You wouldn't be disappointed if he came in your hand from this, but Yoongi puts a stake in those plans like a tidal wave.

He reaches between his legs, suddenly yanking your hand off of him to place it above your head. "You know what I really like __?" He grabs your other hand to join it with the other. "When people listen to what their told the first time."

He pushes up the skirt of your dress, tugs your panties to the side, and thrusts himself into you in one full motion. The immediate stretch has you gasping for air. "Fuck Yoongi��" Yes, you're wet but you still need time to adjust! "Yoongi please, I need a second."

He doesn't respond with any more than husky groans as he steadies himself above you, hands clamping down on your waist. Yoongi stills himself in you, waiting for your signal to move and when you give it to him he wastes no time setting a vigorous pace.

Every push and pull sets your body on fire as his length beats inside you. You move to claw at his back, desperately needing something to grip, but your hands are thrown back down. "Leave them," he growls.

You end up clutching your wrists as your body bounces up and down the seat of the car. The friction is a little rough due to the leather material but you don't have time to think much about it as long as Yoongi keeps fucking you this good.

"Feels-ah-amazing Yoongi, fuck. How'd you get so good at this?"

"How do you think sweetheart?" He wraps one of your legs around his waist, the new angle allows him to sink deeper into your gut. Your hips arch and a few more buttons on Yoongi's dress shirt pop open.

"You have a–chest-chest tattoo?" It's only a blur and you barely get a glimpse when he leans his body forward. But over his heart is black ink in the form of what you can only guess as some kind of wild cat.

"Mhm," he grunts. "Got it when I was 19. One of those impulsive things. Fuck–" he curses feeling you clench around him. "Is this a turn-on for you? You're squeezing me so fucking hard right now."

"Yes. My attraction for you went up about 100%, I can't explain it."

He's amused, shit-eating grin on his far too handsome face. "Well lucky for you, you don't have to explain anything. Open my shirt."

You do as he says and swallow hard seeing the tattoo of a bobcat over his left pec. He can tell you want to ask about it but being that his cock is deep in your heat, he's a little preoccupied. "I'll tell you about it later when we're not you know–fucking like rabbits in the back seat of my Bentley."

You let out a small giggle. It's a wonder no one's caught you yet. Yoongi picks up the pace again, with rough thrusts and beads of sweat around his forehead. "Fuck this pussy is making me so hard. Never been in something so wet and tight in my life." You moan as his cock drags in and out of you, stimulating your g-spot only too perfectly.

"Oh god 'm gonna come Yoongi!" You can't hold back your screams anymore. He's hitting inside you so well, cock throbbing, hair sweaty, muscles tensing, and that sinful chest tattoo teasing in front of your eyes.

"Damn right you are, make this cock yours sweetheart."

Your pussy starts spasming around him. You throw your head back, feeling your tightened core close to unwinding. Yoongi's cock twitches inside you in the seconds following before you both have your release.

Yoongi takes himself out of you, cock dripping with your cum. Your breaths are heavy as you blink up at him from your reclined position. "First time fucking in a car?" he asks, monotone.

"Mhm."

"Did you like it?"

"Mhm."

"Good, I'll give you a few minutes to gather yourself."

Once you both manage to make yourself presentable again, you head back to the reception.

"Where the fuck have you been?!" Yeong-Ja hollers at Yoongi, rushing to him through the parking lot. You're startled at her sharp tone but the closer she gets the more your stomach feels unsettled.

She doesn't give you a glance at all, her attention fully on Yoongi. "Min," she starts. Odd of her to be calling him by his last name all the sudden. "We need to leave now."

You dart your eyes at the two of them. "What-what's going on? It hasn't been that long, did something happen?" Yeong-Ja hesitates to answer so you turn to the man next to you. "Yoongi–Oh my god!" You screech when you see a glowing, red dot hovering over his heart.

Yoongi follows your line of sight. "Shit–" He curses under his breath. "Of all fucking times."

Okay, what the fuck is going on?

Yeong-Ja swiftly pulls out a gun from what appears to be a thigh holster. When she does, you spot the same bobcat tattoo on her upper thigh.

Yeong-Ja cocks the gun before aiming it to the far left. She takes the shot, the red dot instantly disappearing from Yoongi's chest.

"You don't know Yoongi very well __." Yeong-Ja lowers her gun ever so slightly. "To the outside, he's Min Yoongi, a reserved and calculative data analyst, best man to your boss Kim Seokjin. But to the inside world, he's Agust D, leader of the most feared mafia gang, Bangtan."

"I'm sorry sweetheart," Yoongi says. "I wanted to spare you from this. But now that you know our dirty little secret we can't possibly let you go."

So she's his right-hand man.

When Yoongi said they were coworkers, this was not what you were expecting.

How the fuck do you get out of this?

Masterlist

A/N: Me through this whole thing...how do I write warnings without giving away the ending? Anyway, tysm for reading and LMK what you think 💞

Note: Pls help me decide if i should turn this into a series of keep it a one shot ➡ vote here ☺

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

[thekrakenlolz]

Start up Fic - Ellie Williams x Reader

part 2

Summary: You switch dorms at your boarding school after you and your girlfriend go through a messy break up and you no longer can handle being roommates with her. Only your new one is a different kind of problem

a/n: I wrote the first chapter only to realize I have no idea what comes next. So here's my plan: if y'all like the set up, you can give me suggestions for what you want to happen next. I basically just laid down the base. So you can read it if you want and see if you have any ideas. But just as a warning, I'm not gonna write smut without a plot, I'm not about that life. I have a vague idea of what I can put next but it's very cliche and overdone sooooo yeah, thanx in advance<3

Also, English is my third language so expect bad grammar

°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-°_*-

Your eyes wandered over the walls as you walked along them. The paint was starting to flake off, revealing the concrete underneath. Your school was old. Like old, old. Like Victorian ages old. Something most of your friends scoffed over, but you personally liked. You thought it gave it character. Of course a little bit of a touch up wouldn't hurt, but bathroom doors that are actually still attached to the stall hinges were overrated anyways.

You were following Miss Jenkins, your housemother, hunched over as you were balancing three of your bags on your back. Uncomfortable, yes, but you were trying to minimize the amount of trips you had to make to move all your shit over to your new dorm. Anything to avoid seeing Samira more than absolutely fucking necessary.

"Here we are" Miss Jenkins sighed, stopping in front of one of the gray doors. It took everything in you not to roll your eyes. You were still pissed that you had to put in 4 requests over the duration of 2 months before they finally assigned you a new room, but now she was acting like she was doing you a huge favor. Like taking 15 minutes out of her day was so much to ask for. But you kept it down, thanking her again before opening the door and stepping in.

The lengthy process of actually getting a new room gave you plenty of time to stress over who your new roommate would be. This girl, however, didn't even come to mind. You weren't even sure what her name was, your social circle and her's didn't interact much. E-something? Or was it L?

Mystery girl was sitting at her desk, headphones in, and carefully shading out something in her notebook. You noticed she had tucked her left leg under her, a bad habit you also possessed. She didn't register your presence, her eyes still fixed on the paper. You threw your bags next to your bed, which finally caught her attention. "Oh fuck" she jumped up from the desk and hurried over to your bed, picking up the stuff she dumped on it. "Hello to you too" you mused.

Sweatshirts, textbooks and pencils started flying over onto her bed. "I'm sorry, I thought I had until Sunday to get my shit off your side" She explained, tossing a hairbrush across the small room. You watched it hit the wall and fall down onto her Zelda themed sheets. Cute, you noted. "No worries, take your time, I still have stuff to move over"

So you were back in the hallway, slowly but surely making your way back to your old dorm and with that, to Samira. Now that you were by yourself, you took the time to think about your new roommate. You still didn't know her name but one thing was for certain: she was incredible looking.

Her thick straight auburn hair cut off above the shoulders and her cheeks were densely dotted with freckles. She was very toned, especially in the arms. She was probably in the lacrosse team.

You did notice she was more on the masculine side, so might maybe even be gay. You full stopped, forcing yourself to remember, that's exactly the type of shit that got you in your current situation in the first place. No fucking your roommate, dude, we talked about this.

--------

You took a moment to collect yourself before entering your old room. You drew a breath in, scanning the ugly grey door that separated you and her. 12B the lettering read, touched up with some sharpie. You reached for the knob.

She was sitting at her desk, scrolling on her phone and demonstratively ignoring your presence. You bit down on the inside of your cheek. This wasn't what you expected. Somehow you preferred another stupid fight over this new silence.

You stacked two backpacks on one arm and three bags on the other. The weight made your walk out rather inelegant. You stopped in the doorway. "Goodbye Sami."

You could practically feel her hesitate.

"Bye."

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Office Space 3

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you’re an assistant to private and corporate investigator, Nick Fowler, and find yourself brought into the fold of his shady professional life. 

Characters: Nick Fowler, Jonathan Pine, this reader is known as Elfie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Girls’ night leaves you wanting. The single appletini has you less than content but you know better than to push your limit. Not when you have to face work the next day. You’re even more put off by the man who sent the complementary drinks; Dizzie’s boss.  

It feels like he’s trespassing, even if he keeps his distance. You are all well aware of the presence of him and his colleagues. Rosie is flustered and Billie is further demotivated by the looming shadow of the workplace she sought to forget. A grey cloud dampens the long-awaited get together. Maybe next time you’ll try somewhere new. 

You leave at a reasonable time, just after Georgie’s early departure. You feel lame for it. Even if you’re not due at the office until noon, the impromptu shift throws off your whole schedule. Your errands will have to be done around Mr. Fowler’s schedule. 

You have breakfast, get your laundry through the cycle, do half the dishes, then get ready for work. You put on a collared-wrap blouse and some peach-coloured slacks. It won’t hurt to bring a bit of colour to the gray office.  

As you come in sight of the office, another approaches from the next corner. You slow as you recognise the man’s lithe strides and his blonde hair. His stature puts him above the other pedestrians as he meets you at the door.  

Mr. Pine smiles as he greets you, “Elfie, fine timing.” 

“Sir? I didn’t know you were expected,” you poke around in your purse in search of the keys. 

“No? I’m fairly certain Fowler should be awaiting me, no?” He reaches for the door and opens it. Ah, your boss must already be in office, “after you, darling.” 

You look up at the pet name but don’t comment on it. You’ve been called worse. He’s only being nice. You step in ahead of him and stop just beside your desk as you glance back. The door closes heavily at Pine’s back as he follows you in. 

“Tea,” you reach into your bag and pull out the little canister you plucked from your cupboards last night, “I’m afraid I only have Earl Gray.” 

“Well, I do appreciate the thought,” he says, “if you wouldn’t mind, a cup would be in order. Thank you, Elfie.” 

It’s as if he makes a point of calling you by name. It does sound rather delicious on his tongue. He doesn’t hesitate to knock on Fowler’s door. 

“Nicholas,” he calls over the rap of his knuckles. 

You enter the break room and put the kettle to boil as you start on Fowler’s usual. His mug is waiting dirty beside the machine. That’s his demand. He often tells you what to do in gestures rather than words. 

You wash out his mug and drop a bag of Earl Gray in yours. You let the tea steep as the nespresso grinds loudly. You come out with both cups and find the office empty. Fowler’s door is open. You sweep around and approach cautiously. 

“Excuse me,” you use your toe to tap on the door frame. 

Fowler nods as he continues his diatribe to the other man. As your boss sits in behind his desk, Pine paces and flutters his longer fingers along his lapel. He stops as you enter and accepts his cup from you with a murmured thank you. You retreat as he tugs on the string of the bag and dunks it over and over. 

You leave them and shut the door. You return to your desk and finally get yourself situated. You put your purse in your drawer and stretch out your fingers before you set to your digital cataloguing. The click and scroll of your mouse fills the void as you sort yesterday’s work into tidy folders and subfolders. 

Fowler’s door opens and you pause your task. You look up expectantly as Mr. Pine emerges. To your surprise, he nears your desk. 

“I must praise you on your immaculate work, darling,” he says, “the tea as well,” he places the empty cup on the corner of your desk, “but I did appreciate the level of organization.” 

“Sir?” You prompt. 

“Fowler says you did much of the archiving around here. He is ever thorough but I know he cannot do it on his own,” he purrs, “I’ve a mind to snatch you away. I’ve been well in need of a decent assistant.” 

“She’s taken,” Fowler startles you as he looms in his office door. Pine’s lips slant and he angles towards the other man. 

“Of course, it is a spot of humour, chap,” Pine insists, “I have, however, bartered us a partnership. I have a project in need of doing and you’ve a shining reference and rather benevolent boss.” 

“Elf,” Fowler marches to your desk, standing next to Pine, “my colleague with be taking over the floating office for the next few weeks. He will forward his files. You know what to do.” 

“Oh, yes, sir,” you affirm, “of course.” 

“Your usual tasks remain in place,” Fowler girds, “I know you can handle it.” 

“Um, yes, Mr. Fowler,” you stand and clasp your hands behind you, “should I open the floating office now?” 

Fowler nods curtly and spins on his heel. He strides back to his office and leaves the door open. You smile at Pine and point him past the doorway, “just down there.” You come around the desk with your keys, “used to be a storage room but Mr. Fowler doesn’t like clutter. Converted it to a workspace after there was a leak in his...” you stop at the door and unlock it, “I’m sure you don’t care about all that.” 

“Mm, it is a charming little place,” he remarks as you step back and he enters the barren office. 

“Dusty,” you tut, “I’ll grab some lysol wipes and get it cleaned up.” 

“I might do that myself, darling, you’ve enough on your plate,” he insists, “but bring me the supplies and I will get all in order.” He turns to face you and casually slides his hands into his pocket. The light blue of his suit compliments his eyes perfectly, “and I dare say I owe you for that tea. You should have to let me return the favour some time.” 

“Oh, you don’t have to, sir, that’s very kind of you though,” you say.  

“Ah, but where I come from, tea is a very serious matter. I’m obliged,” he sets his feet flat and his shoulders wide.  

“Some time,” you agree vaguely, “I’ll go get those wipes.” 

You turn and come down the short hall. Fowler clears his throat as you pass and you slow, peeking inside, “sir?” 

He doesn’t look up, merely clinking his metal pen on his mug. You dip inside and take the half-finished coffee. It’s cold. You quickly retreat to make him a new one, reminding yourself about the wipes. You’re going to have to work on your multitasking. 

[its-time-to-write]

I’ve always had this idea that reader is like, one of the fittest people that work at AFC Richmond, like she can hold herself in a fight. Maybe she does boxing and the team shows up to support as a surprise and they’re all like DAMN. And a certain Manchester man goes googoo over her and ALSJDISPDODJKLL I feel like in my mind it’s an idea with lots of potential behind for any character matchup and scenarios but yeah that’s it (ps I love your writing it brings me so much joy!!)

got it! thanks @coloursofyen for a) the ideas and b) keeping me on track with these last few fics.

I rage-wrote this fic bc I accidentally saw the Man City score before I had a chance to watch it. I’m very upset rn😂 Also, I know nothing about boxing.

move fast and keep quiet

Ted’s been on this thing recently, where one day of training out of every five is a “physical and mental enrichment day,” which is a fancy way of saying the team does yoga or some shit together. Recently he’s been bringing in this boxing coach for “the team’s aggressive tendencies,” in wake of the whole West Ham debacle, and no one’s quite sure if that was really the best response to the situation. Teaching AFC Richmond how to fight better? Maybe not the best idea. 

You’ve been coming once a week for a month now, teaching them how to spar on the pitch. Isaac, Jamie, and Bumbercatch are definitely the most enthusiastic about it, with the way Isaac studies each punch, Bumbercatch practices the footwork, and Jamie asks a million fucking questions every single time. 

According to Sam, he’s been an absolute menace, practicing his moves through the halls of Nelson Road.

“What is your problem?” Jan asks one day. “Can you not just walk to the gym like a regular person?”

Jamie shrugs. “Where’s the fun in that?”

It isn’t long before word goes around the dogtrack that Jamie has a crush on the boxing instructor.

“You like her,” Dani singsongs. Jamie doesn’t deny it. 

“She’s mad fit. Even her smile,” Jamie defends.

He’s not exactly wrong. The team starts an unofficial countdown until their next training session, and are disappointed to walk into the regular setup when the day rolls around. There’s a whiteboard with a new play from Roy and Beard, and the whole team barely tries to hide their disappointment.

“Oi, where’s Jamie’s girlfriend?” Isaac asks the moment Ted walks in.

“She’s not my girlfriend,” Jamie interjects.

Ted points to Jamie. “We’ll unpack that later. For now, I need you fellas to get ready to run this new play Coach Beard and Roy have cooked up. I want everyone ready to show a lotta teamwork.”

Richard raises his hand. “Coach, where is Jamie’s girlfriend?”

Jamie puts his head in his hands and says, “She ain’t my girlfriend, lad,” but it doesn’t matter. The name is going to stick.

Ted says, “She’s busy training for a match tomorrow, but she’ll be back next week. She told me to tell you all that she hopes you can come watch.”

Sam loudly whispers, “You mean she hopes Jamie will come watch,” and the rest of the team says oooh.

“Fuck off,” Jamie replies, but he’s blushing.

—

They end up commandeering the team bus. 

The fight is… well, let’s just say it’s convinced Jamie that he needs to make the “girlfriend” jokes a reality. He will never admit how smitten you make him, what with the way you’re dodging and weaving, wiping sweat from your brow as your braids fly. But when it’s all over and you’re announced the winner, he’s almost positive you can hear him cheering over the rest of the crown because he’s just so damn happy.

The team waits around while the rest of the arena clears out, but Jamie can’t wait. He slips away from the group and asks a security guard where he can find you. The guard looks at him and states, “You’re Jamie Tartt.”

“Yeah,” Jamie responds, unsure of what else to say because it wasn’t exactly a question.

“She said you could come back. Follow me,” grunts the guard. Jamie turns around to make eye contact with Sam before hurrying after the security guard.

“In here.” The guard points to a door then leaves Jamie alone, staring at your name printed on a metal plaque. Shit, how good must you be to have your name here?

He knocks once and hears you call, “Come in,” so he pushes the door open. You’re sitting on the floor downing a bottle of water, still sweaty. There’s a bit of blood dried to your forehead and Jamie is a little worried that he finds it sexy.

You smile at him and pat the floor next to you.

“I’d get up, but I’m really fucking tired,” you say. “She got me good.”

Jamie slides onto the floor next to you. “You were fuckin’ amazing,” he says. “Made me rethink my whole career.”

You wheeze out a laugh. “With the way you run your mouth? You’d get brained in a week. I make sure none of my partners hate me. Me ’n the girl you saw tonight are going out to lunch tomorrow.”

Oh. That’s new information for Jamie. He’s trying to figure out if you mean lunch as a friend thing, or if you’re going on a date. Shit. Maybe this was a bad idea.

You nudge him with your shoulder. “Oi, what’s your deal? Upset you’re stuck as a sad little footballer when you could be getting punched out on the daily like me?”

Jamie shakes his head. “Nah. Just thinking how cool it were tonight.”

You grin and take another swig of water. “Hey, you wanna take me out on a date?”

Jamie chokes on air. After a moment he manages to cough, “Sorry, what?” and you shrug.

“Told myself if you came back here after the match I’d ask you out. I let security know you could come back if you wanted, and I figured you might be kinda fucking interested if you tried to get back here without me inviting you.”

“Uh huh,” Jamie says, still trying to get his breath back.

You look at him sideways. “Is that a yes? It’s all good if not.”

“No, yes!” Jamie says. “It’s yes. Where do you want to go? When’re you available? We could do something tonight if you want.”

You make a face. “I’m absolutely knackered. I was planning on going home to take a nice long shower and then passing out.”

Jamie nods. Right. Sounds logical.

“You could join me,” you suggest, and Jamie chokes for the second time.

“Jesus, Tartt, you’re excitable,” you tease. “It’s just a shower and some sleep. Although I might be convinced that I didn’t get enough cardio in tonight. Depends on if you’re willing to drive me home so I can nap.”

“Done,” Jamie says immediately. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” 

You grin as he pulls you up off the floor. “Oh,” you say, studying his perfect lips, “one more thing before we go…”

[arlakos]

The High Road: A counterpoint to one of the most commonly used Salt Takes for Adrien.

This isn't really a salt fic idea, but since we are on the topic of salt on this blog, I'd like to take a moment to talk about a scene that has largely been used out of contex ever since Chameleon came out, and that is the infamous high road scene that has since been used to death for every Adrien salt story

For those who are unaware of this scene (or perhaps are unfamiliar with the canon version), in the episode Chameleon of Sesason 3, Marinette is about to go expose a plot hole in one of Lila's many fabrications, only for Adrien to stop her by stating that it won't change Lila for the better (Full Transcript Below). Keep this transcript in mind because I'll be referencing it a lot.

Now, this scene doesn't seem like something to be mad over, but the the whole episode of Chameleon has twisted a lot of people's perceptions of certain characters for the worse. This particular scene just happens to be one that changed people's pereceptions of Adrien.

However, I think its actually somewhat unjustified. I feel that in many ways, Chameleon as a whole has been misrepresented for what changes it has actually brought into the show, and I feel that it's easy to take a lot of moments in the episode out of context, especially when emotions come into play. The episode transcript actually happened to be leaked before it was supposed to be relased, so a lot of people already made up their minds about what this episode was about before it was released. It's easy to hate on this episode when you're friends in discord have watched it before you and have started to shout buzzwords such as "The class betrayed Marinette!" or "Adrien is a monster!", etc etc. I would know, since that was how I found out about the episode in the first place, and watching it for the first time didn't change my initial perceptions.

Today, I would like to take a moment to take the infamous high road scene and talk about what it meant for the salty portion of the fandom, before taking a metaphoically sledgehammer and slamming some misconceptions about Adrien from the perspective of salty people. Sure, they're other scenes that could be looked at, but since every salt fic tends to reuse this plot point, I feel it deserves its own deconstruction.

1. The High-Road scene is proof that Adrien is an asshole!

Now this statement is a bit of a buzzword since the actual reasons for people disliking this scene can vary, but to be fair, the reaction to this scene is also more nuanced as well.

In truth, a lot of people already had issues with Adrien/Chat Noir as a whole (for reasons that I won't elaborate here since it would be worth its own post), but this scene seemed to open the floodgates with hatred for our secondary protagonist out of his percieved inaction, since many people now had dislike for Adrien, while those who hated him prior were more than happy to provide fuel for the fire. After the episode was released, these ideas began to merge together, resulting in this belief that Adrien has always been an asshole, and that the Chameleon scene was simply the final straw, and that if the show was written by a good writer (read: anyone who hated the episode), Marinette would actually ditch his ass!

Now, its debatable on whether Adrien had writing issues prior to this point, but I feel that using this scene to justify hatred for him is outright slander for several reasons:

First of all, Adrien never suggested for Marinette to take the high road if we are being logistical about it. He only complimented her on that regard, telling her she did a good job for "taking the high road", and that was after he sat next to her to show he was by her side.

His actual message to Marinette was that it wasn't worth it to try expose Lila at that moment (and to be fair, it wouldn't have worked, more on that later though) because all it would do is make her double down on her behavior. Plus, trying to expose her in front of everyone would just hurt Lila more than help everyone else, which is, if anything, not untrue.

Overall, the advice Adrien gave to Marinette was not meant out of a desire to hurt anyone (least of all Marinette), but was out of a genuine desire to help resolve a situation and prevent Marinette from doing something that would not have helped the situation. Even if he does have other character flaws, this situation was by no means a reason to villainize him for it.

2. Adrien prefers Lila over Marinette, thats why he told the latter to take the high road!

Again, another idea that is found in fanfics, but is ultimately untrue in canon.

While Adrien doesn't believe Lila at all from the beginning of the episode, he isn't exactly just letting Lila's actions slide either; his stance comes from that of believing that Lila being decietful will do nothing to actually help her make friends. However, rather than confronting her angrily like Marinette does, Adrien instead tries to be friendly with her and try offer Lila some advice to try and change, albiet to no avail.

Now, some people might argue that Lila doesn't deserve kindness considering her threat to Marinette just moments ago, but it should be also stated that Adrien knows NOTHING about this: as far as he's aware, Lila is a transfer student looking to make friends, but has a wrong way of doing so (so in a way, she's not unlike him, from his POV at least), so he's just trying to help her, rather than attempt to force her out in the open.

(Quick tibit though, if Adrien knew what Lila did to Marinette, he would probably be more inclined to help her and protect his friends, given that he was willing to 'sacrifice' himself to get Marinette un-expelled in the Ladybug episode)

By the end of the episode Adrien is obviously dissapointed in Lila continuing to act the way that she is, but ultimately refuses to sink to Lila's level in order to teach her a lesson. As childish as it is (and it should be considering Adrien is a TEEN) Adrien believes that Lila's deceptions will ultimately come back to bite her (Adrien even tells her this himself, see below.), but trying to expose her in front of everyone else will do more harm to Lila than it will help others, hence his methods of speaking to her privately about it.

3. Adrien's reasoning is horrible and stupid! He deserves to pay for it!

This reasoning is the one I find the most dissapointing, partly because it inspired The Karma of Lies story (Written by CartoonAddict564), and also because while Adrien's reasoning can come off as naive, it is by no means stupid, nor should he have to suffer for having a different viewpoint for Marinette. But to understand, you need to think of Adrien in terms of his character.

Adrien is not just a celebrity, but also a child with a very controlling father, who pretty much controls and manages his day to day life with the help of his secretary. As a result of his popularity, Adrien has to be very careful with what he says or does, not only because it would reflect poorly onto his father's company, but it would also force his father to step in. As the Collector has shown, Adrien being able to even LEAVE the home is something that could easily be revoked at any time, and being Cat Noir has only loosened the bars on his cell, not remove them completely. Adrien has very little to gain by confronting Lila, but everything to lose, which is in direct contrast to Marinette having everything to lose by letting Lila walk by.

So in the face of all that, plus the situation he is in now, why would he not act passive and provide advice to try mitigate conflict rather than escalate it?

Now whether or not that should be seen as selfish is debatable, it's ultimately not out of character for Adrien to try and provide more passive options to deal with Lila rather than go for the most violent option. You could even argue that Adrien's actions are also out kindness to Marinette, since (in his eyes at least) it could get her in trouble with her own parents if they try and confront Lila violently.

At worst, Adrien's passiveness is a result of his controlled upbringing. At best? He was just trying to help without causing conflict.

4. Adrien shouldn't have stopped Marinette from confronting Lila!

.... im sorry to say this, but yes he absolutely should have.

Marinette was about to confront Lila over which ear her supposed tinnitus was in. Aside from the fact trying to expose her on this alone would not have worked, this would have just resulted in Marinette becoming more estranged from her classmates in this situation. If Marinette should have confronted Lila about her lying, this was DEFINTELY NOT the way to do it.

This isn't to say that Marinette could not have confronted Lila, but this moment simply was not it. There were better alternatives to Marinette that she could employ in the future had she thought of doing so (such as coming to Alya as Ladybug and revealing that her frienship with Lila is a lie), or carrying a voice recorder to record any threats made by Lila.

As uncathartic as the situation was, from a writing standpoint Adrien's inteference ultimately helped Marinette keep her friendships in the long run, while avoiding making a fool of herself with a battle she simply could not win.

5. It's Adrien's fault that Marinette didn't go after Lila! Marinette would have been better if she brushed him off!

This sounds crazy, but this is a genuine point that people seem to mention when it comes to their reasons for writing salt fics. Even if Adrien's attempts to dissaude Marinette were out of concern rather than malice, people still condemn Adrien for pushing Marinette off that path of going after Lila. In their eyes, Marinette didn't get her immediate revenge for what Lila did, and Lila herself was allowed to continue manipulating the class. All of this becomes Adrien's fault by virtue of being the one to deny this from happening, denying the fans their catharsis.

However, the question I ask it that for all the blame they give to Adrien in this situation ... how come nobody blames Marinette at all for the same thing?

See, despite people argue that Adrien manipulated Marinette into not going after Lila, Marinette isn't necassarily gullible or stupid. If Marinette really thought that Lila was a threat worth going after, she could and would have easily found a way to take Lila down and get her removed, with or without Adrien's support (given she made a similar plan in season 5 for when Gabriel tried to get the Kwamis to lead him to Marinette). She wouldn't even need a miraculous to do so given she can make plans without transforming, and most of Lila's lies aren't particularly smart, they just can't be immediately discredited without proof.

And it can't even be argued that Adrien took advantage of Marinette's love for him (whether intentionally or not). Marinette has shown that even though she does value her friends, she doesn't need to rely on the validation of others to do whatever she feels is right (given that she argued against Alya and others in Risk when it came to their belief that Adrien was fine, even though she was partly amped by an akuma at the time). And if Marinette did think that Adrien was wrong, she probably wouldn't have continued to crush on him anymore.

Also its kind of lowkey sexist? Like, Marinette can probably make her own decisions, she doesn't need someone to dictate her own actions given she's the leader of a superhero team?

Ultimately, Marinette made the choice not to go after Lila. Perhaps she thought that Lila wasn't worth it. Maybe she thought that taking down Lila wasn't worth the time and stress. Maybe she ended up agreeing with Adrien and thought that Lila would expose herself sooner rather than later with her own deceptions. Either way, Marinette can make her own decisions, and she ultimately thought that going after Lila was not a good idea, for whatever reason.

Now, some people might be upset about this idea that Marinette is to blame, but people can't just play the blame game and expect their target to lose. It would honestly be preferrable to say that both Adrien and Marinette made a decision that (for better or worse) thought was good at the time and that neither should be judged for it, but the fandom doesn't seem to care for that because that means their salt fics would be invalid.

Thus, since people want to blame Adrien for apparently "manipulating" Marinette, Marinette should get equal blame for allowing herself to be manipulated by Adrien. Sucks to hear it, but since nobody calls out Marinette on her shit, I might as well be the first. Sorry if it triggers you ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

So ... what does this all mean?

It means that my boy Adrien is innocent.

He meant no harm by suggesting that Marinette not go after Lila, nor did he do it because he took Lila's side over Marinette's. At best, he was unaware of how evil Lila was and thought she was misunderstood, and at worse he defaulted to using the same ideas that he uses to protect what limited freedoms he had, and offered it to Marinette as geunine advice. Marinette isn't a pushover either, meaning that not only did she also think what Adrien said was a good idea, but the fandom is inadvertently being sexist by implying she can't be independent and can't make her own decisions, given that she's shown her own independence multiple times. At best, both characters made a dumb decision that they thought was good, but neither can be soley responsible.

Ultimately, Chameleon was an episode that gave Adrien (and whoever else was targeted) a bad rep due to the kneejerk reaction everyone had to the episode due to Lila's lies, myself included. In truth, nothing of what happened in the episode had any actual long term effects, since Marinette still kept her friends and Lila didn't end up playing any major role for nearly 2 seasons, at least until season 5 finally got rid of 'Lila' and set up 'Cerise' to be the new Butterfly villain.

It took me a long while to put this belief into words, and it may be 2 seasons too late, but at least I can upload it now knowing that this truth could possible be shared with the world. Maybe it will stop the excess of salt fics in the world, and allow for new salt free works to be made. Who knows?

Anyways, I hope you found this to be an interesting read as I had writing it!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hello Miss Raven!✨💕

I would like to ask you for an imagine/scenario or character interaction with Crewel and Vil (platonic ofc), where they talk about fashion and everything like the queens they are and they just always have the hottest tea! Talking about the school etc.

It's a casual fic idea without any angst or things like that, maybe somewhere along the way they start talking about Yuu who's Vil's friend, that he has a bit of a crush on? It may start at the Vil's alchemy lesson or smth-

Anyways, the main focus is hot tea between the fashion queens🙏👑 Thank you!💖

This interaction takes place after the events of book 6, so there will be spoilers for that.

I kept the “Vil has a crush on Yuu” element out of this particular interaction since I didn’t find it super relevant 💦 I want the focus of this blog event to be Crewel and his relationships with others. Maybe if the interaction had been posed like Vil coming to Crewel for love advice (since Crewel is a trusted adult for him), it could have fit better. Either that, or I’d advise waiting for more generalized writing requests to open ^^

If he doesn’t scare you, no evil thing will.

“Crewel-sensei.”

He turned at the call of his voice. “Schoenheit.”

Vil, dressed in his labwear, approached. A beaker of a bubbling substance carefully was ferried in his gloved hand, which he offered to his instructor. “The Peddler’s Disguise is done. You may evaluate it for its quality.”

Crewel accepted the potion, gently swirling it to test the viscosity and noting the color.

“It was brewed with mummy dust, black of night, an old hag’s cackle, and a scream of fright. I then churned over high heat with a blast of wind and a thunderbolt.”

"You've memorized the recipe. Excellent work." Crewel set the beaker down on a lab bench and marked off Vil's name on a clipboard. "You're making up for lost time at a record pace."

"Of course. There is no excuse for falling behind," Vil insisted, tossing his blonde hair over one shoulder.

Crewel quirked a brow. "Not even being kidnapped? How strong-minded of you. I was surprised when you came to me asking to hit the ground running with makeup classes upon your return.”

He looked Vil up and down. “You remain put-together for someone who has gone through an event most would consider unsettling. Is it your PR training keeping you cool in the public eye?”

Vil folded his arms. "... If you're trying to be subtle with your worries, then you're doing a poor job of it, sensei.”

"And is there a problem with a teacher having concern for his student?”

“No, not at all.” A smirk flickered onto Vil’s lips. “Then shall we drop the pretenses? Though so bear in mind that I am under a strict NDA, so I can only divulge so many details.”

“Let’s,” Crewel agreed. “I presume you cannot share the bulk of your harrowing experience.”

Vil nodded. “But fortunately, I can tell about the worst of it… The atrocious lack of attention to self care!!”

“Our school uniforms were taken away and we were made to wear the same sterile grey uniforms every day. Threads as thin as hospital gowns, collared like misbehaved mongrels… Why, it was the worst injustice I faced in that facility.

“Not only that, but the air in the enclosure was stale and terribly drying.” Vil patted his cheek and shuddered at the memory. “It wreaked havoc on my skin.

“Worse still was that I was denied access to any skincare products and cosmetics! I was told that they were a safety hazard and to ‘rinse off with water and soap and go bare faced for a while, what are you aggro’ing about’!! Can you believe the GALL?! I was just about ready to let the staff have my wrath.”

Vil paused, taking a breath to calm himself. “… I was only saved thanks to a gaggle of nosy potatoes and a certain huntsman.”

“Speaking of, Hunt caused quite the stir at school when he vanished. Pomefiore was already suffering without its dorm leader and expected its vice dorm leader to step up fill that role in your stead… but with Hunt mysteriously gone, Pomefiore was without anyone in charge.”

“As I rightfully scolded him for.” Vil sighed deeply. "I was informed that Trein-sensei served as acting headmaster while the situation was unfolding. How did he address the issue of Pomefiore's missing leadership?"

"You're looking right at him," Crewel replied with a dry laugh. "I was called in to supervise the dormitory on top of my usual teaching duties. It seems the old man... excuse me, I mean my esteemed colleague, decided to put his faith in his favorite ex-troublemaker. Who was I to deny him?

"For the time Hunt and his rescue squad were away, I stayed at Pomefiore and kept watch over its students. What a mess—there are hardly time for my personal upkeep, nor a moment to steal away and seek the comfort of my beloved dogs... My clothes were horribly creased and my hair unkempt when the news first broke of your return.”

"What a harrowing tale of sacrifice. I apologize for the inconvenience my vice dorm leader imposed on you. He'll be getting another earful from me.”

“Hmph, no need. Though it was an inconvenience at the time, I am glad to see that you’ve come back to us safe snd sound. Perhaps it is not so bad for you pups to act selfishly every now and again.”

“Oh? Careful, Crewel-sensei. We may just take that as the green light to behave even more selfishly.”

“Then I will be there to keep you in line."

"Is that so? I'll be holding you accountable to that promise."

"And I'll be holding you accountable for your dorm's students," Crewel promised with the same ease as Vil.

There was a mutual understanding between them, the same spark set in their eyes. Teacher and student, fashionista and fashionista.

Together, they radiated an overwhelming aura.

[allastoredeer]

The Hierarchal Power Structure in Pentagram City + Royal Family Character Analysis (Hellaverse World-Building)

I did some character analysis, lore, and world-building last night for Pentagram City and the hierarchical systems, and @tomboy014, I saw your reply, and I am here to deliver the deets.

First and foremost, disclaimer: this is world-building/character analysis/lore that I came up with. Some of it is based on canon, but a lot of it is built off my personal fanon. None of it can actually be considered canon, but feel free to incorporate anything here into your fanon or fics or whatever you want. And feel free to not take any of it seriously and ignore it if it doesn't work for you.

This post is going to be broken up into separate parts that delve into different subjects, like the city districts, the Overlords and what they give to the city, hierarchal systems, politics, and soul-contracts.

To get things started, I'm diving into the hierarchical systems of power in the Pride Ring and how involved or uninvolved they are in, most of the character analysis is on the Royal Family (Lucifer, Lilith, and Charlie) and their relationship to the Pride Ring.

So, we know that the Sinners are contained to the Pride Ring and that however powerful the Overlords are and how much influence they have in the Ring, they are still outranked by the Goetia and the Royal Family.

So, diving into that, let's start with the big boss of Hell himself:

Lucifer

Lucifer is the top dog. He's the most powerful being in Hell. What he says goes.

But he doesn't often involve himself with Pentagram City or the Sinners. He's gone out, made appearances, settled disputes that made their way up to him, and is the one who typically deals with Heaven and their input.

Unlike Sinners, he actually gets along well with the Hellborn. He has powerful Hellborn friends, like the Eldritch family - Charlie previously dated Seviathan Von Eldritch (their son) and we see a picture of Frederick Von Eldritch (the dad) with Lucifer in Lucifer's workshop in "Dad Beat Dad:

So, he has good relationships with other people. He has friends. He gets along well with the other Deadly Sins and the Goetia. He has absolutely no problems with them.

He also doesn't mind dealing with issues that pop up in other Rings, but given that those Rings are managed by the other Sins, it's rare that he has to get involved. Usually, the only times he would, is if the Sins themselves were having a dispute with each other, and it got big enough to warrant it coming to him. He's the big boss of Hell, afterall. He gets the final say.

What he does distance himself from is the Sinners.

When it comes to Heaven, Lucifer has an inferiority complex. 

He's been in Heaven, with the seraphims, archangels, and angels for most of his existence. He grew up believing what they believe. He was considered a trouble-maker for his grandiose ideas, but he was still one of them.

But after giving Eve the fruit of knowledge, giving free-will to mankind and breaking the careful order Heaven maintained, the beings that he's been with his entire existence turned on him. Rejected him. Cast him out and punish him for his mistake by seeing nothing but the terrible and wicked caused by his actions.

He feels ashamed and humiliated. Belittled and looked down on. If everyone you've ever known, everyone you've ever been close to, tells you you're done a terrible thing, what other choice do you have then to believe them?

He's still prideful, but that pride is what causes him to have such great shame. He was so certain of his decision. So certain that giving Eve the apple was the right move, only to be torn down so thoroughly and cast out of his home.

But with the Sinners he has a superiority complex.

The Sinners are a constant reminder of his mistake. When he sees them, all he feels is shame, anger, humiliation, and disgust, but he still thinks he's better than them. He thinks all the Hellborn are better than them. He's still got a sliver of that high-and-mighty angel inside him that looks down on the Sinners.

Heaven deemed them bad enough to be sent to Hell, afterall. And even though he'd been cut off from Heaven, even though he was cast out, Heaven's definition of "good" and "bad" is still rooted in his brain. They would know, right? Heaven is pure, and righteous, and good. He was once pure, and righteous, and good. Their logic and reasoning made sense to him, and a part of it still does.

So, he goes out of his way to avoid interacting with the Sinners. Given that he's only ever seen the worst in humanity, he considers them the lowest of the low and doesn't bother trying to learn more about them - he stopped trying to see the good in them after the first few hundred years.

To him, all Sinners are horrible. Heartless. Monstrous. Cruel. They tear things down instead of build things up. They're everything wrong with humanity. He doesn't hold a high opinion of them, nor has he for a very, very, very long time.

Given that he represents "pride," most would assume that he manages the Pride Ring, but it's actually Lilith who runs the Ring and everyone in it. Lucifer is more than happy to let Lilith take the reins when it comes to the Sinners, and almost never takes the opportunity to get more involved when one comes up.

Lilith

Lilith holds a higher opinion of the Sinners than Lucifer does.

She used to be human, afterall. She was the first woman. One of three people that marked the beginning of mankind. Technically, one could argue that she was the first human to commit a sin as she had not only rejected Adam but she was on board with Lucifer sharing the fruit of knowledge with Eve. She was punished for their "reckless act" just the same as Lucifer and cast into Hell.

But where Lucifer feels disgust and shame, Lilith feels a sense of freedom. She's no longer bound to Heaven and their rules. Rules that she struggled with and had to break free of. Rules that also dubbed her a "wicked person" for breaking them.

She feels connected to the Sinners. She feels a kinship with them. She has more empathy for their situations and actions. She understands their misery and anger. She loves learning about them and their stories - some Sinners, of course, are absolutely deplorable human beings. But there are some who lived in difficult situations, made mistakes, developed bad habits, were forced into tight corners, had no other options, or were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. She feels righteous anger at Heaven and its strict system that separates the "good" from the "bad."

Lilith has been involved with the growth of Pentagram City since the beginning, and once Overlords became a thing, she worked side-by-side with them to keep the Ring functioning as best as a society can function in Hell.

She was a lot more involved in the beginning of Hell. However, the more the city grew the more it was able to stand on its own two legs. She had more time to step away and be with Lucifer, Charlie later on, and the other Rings. She still often holds her concerts to inspire and uplift demonkind, but she doesn't have to help run the city so much.

Overtime, she became more of an occasional guiding hand or a final vote. The Overlords had a hold of most situations and solved it amongst their own territories or with the other Overlords.

Charlie

While born in Hell, Charlie was actually very sheltered growing up. She was allowed to go to the other Rings, and often went on trips with Lucifer and Lilith to visit the other Sins, but despite living in the Pride Ring, she wasn't allowed to really explore it for a lot of her life growing up.

Lilith wanted to bring young Charlie with her on her trips into the city, to meet the Overlords, see her subjects, and familiarize herself with all the districts, but Lucifer was a little bit more, ehhhh...hesitant, you could say. And protective. Very protective.

He didn't like the idea of his little girl rubbing elbows with the scum of humankind. Of her seeing the violence and cruelty they so often displayed. She became a bright, burning light in his life, giving him new drive, something to love and take care of. It brought him out of his depression for a time, especially when Charlie lived in the palace, but he still had moments when he fell back into it. When he had hard days. When he sunk back into dark thoughts and internalized shame.

During these dark periods of time, Lucifer locked himself in his workroom. He didn't have the energy, the mental capacity, to be there for Charlie, and he didn't want to bring any of the dark and negative thoughts & emotions on to Charlie - the light in his life. His pride and joy.

Distancing himself from her during this spirals is how he "protected" her. He convinced himself that it was for her own good not to see him like this. That he needed to keep this side of him locked away and out of sight for her benefit, not realizing just how much Charlie needed him.

During these spirals, Lucifer turned to creation. He made things. Things for Charlie. Things for Lilith. Random knick-knacks. Whatever object, animal, or concept that crossed his mind. More often than not, though, his creations had holy undertones. Angelic designs. Some piece of Heaven squirreled inside.

Charlie loved watching her dad create things, and eventually, Lucifer started telling her stories about Heaven. What it was like up there. How beautiful it was. The archangels and the seraphims who made galaxies and expanded the universe. Who kept evil at bay.

Charlie soaked in these stories and developed a fascination for Heaven.

Lilith didn't approve. She had complicated feelings about Heaven, but for the most part, she had a negative opinion of it. Of the angels, the seraphims, their order, and rules, and expectations. She doesn't see it with the same rose-tinted glasses that Lucifer does. She doesn't have the millennia of memories and experiences that Lucifer has.

She doesn't like Lucifer filling Charlie's head with these grandiose and beautiful depictions of Heaven. She doesn't like Charlie's growing fascination with Heaven. She doesn't like the look of awe and wonder in Charlie's eyes. She doesn't like Lucifer painting Heaven in this perfect light when they had both been hurt so badly by them. She's been with Lucifer since the beginning, has seen him through every up and down, spiral, and depressive episode, and she doesn't understand how he could still hold such a high opinion of them after everything they did. Everything they've put her through. Everything they put him through.

She's okay with Lucifer spending time with Charlie and creating things with her, but she does interrupt and make an excuse to take Charlie with her when Lucifer starts talking about Heaven, or creating Heavenly things, like the bird-angel-creature from "Dad Beat Dad"

She doesn't want Charlie getting the wrong idea about them.

Lucifer's leniency towards Heaven & contempt for Sinner and Lilith's animosity towards Heaven & compassion for Sinners starts butting heads more and more as Charlie grows up. It leads to arguments, and then fights, and eventually, their divorce.

Charlie grew up torn between her father's dreams and stories, and her mothers compassion for Sinners and desire to help them. Both facets have been instilled in her. They're both driving motivators for her and what she wants to do with her life.

But seeing the separation between her parents was hard and it hurt. No matter what she did, she couldn't help their marriage or their family. So, she turned to helping others. The Sinners, specifically. Of redeeming them so they may see the beautiful, wondrous place her father told her about.

Lucifer still didn't approve, of course, which devastated Charlie. She wanted his support. Needed it. But he couldn't look past his contempt for Sinners, and it became the leading factor that led to their estrangement in the years that followed, with Charlie feeling unsupported and neglected, and Lucifer wanting to reconnect with her so badly but not knowing how to bridge the gap.

Lilith needed distance from Lucifer. She still loved him. She did. But she's also been with him since before Hell was created. They've been at each other's sides since they first met in the Garden of Eden.

And Lucifer's depressive episodes were hard on her too. She did everything she could to support him. To help him. To be there for him. But over time, the mental and emotional load began weighing on her. It started affecting her mentally and emotionally too. It's hard to be the one constantly holding up the other. She felt like she could never break. Never stumble. She had to be steadfast. She had to be strong. A pillar for her family and her kingdom. To raise Charlie, oversee the city, and support Lucifer all at once, and she was exhausted.

And with her and Lucifer butting heads more and more, she couldn't keep doing it. She left the Pride Ring, visited the other Rings, took some time for herself and something something, stuff happens, she ends up in Heaven (my reasoning for this changes based on what fic I'm writing or concept I'm thinking about, so I don't have a concrete answer to give).

She did leave Charlie on her own, too, though.

Charlie had to build her plan for redemption, start her hotel, and deal with demonkind all on her own, without the support of either of her parents, without their help navigating the city and dealing with Sinners, which leaves her fumbling, unsure how to act around them, and a bit naive to their situation. When she met Vaggie, she got the love and support for her dreams, for herself, that she craved. That she needed. That's been missing for so many years.

Charlie still loves both of her parents deeply, but she has complicated feelings about them that she buries deep, deep, deep down inside her. She's got mommy and daddy issues.

Goetia

The Goetia are the third most powerful beings in Hell (after the Sins and the Royal Family). They outrank the Overlords easily.

Goetia families live in every ring. They can move between Rings, go where they want, and have their own sway and political power in Hell. A Goetia that we know, for sure, lives in the Pride Ring is Stolas, as implied by the sky where his house/estate is located:

But, generally, the Goetia don't get that involved in Pentagram City, its politics, or the Overlords, unless it affects them directly. They work with the Overlords, meet with them to discuss matters that involve them both, but over all, they leave Pentagram City, the Overlords, and the Sinners all to their own devices. They don't care enough to get involved, and, technically, the Pride Ring is the Sinner's ring - as they are restricted to it - and they don't want to have to maintain a society or system for them.

The Goetia have an indifferent opinion of the Sinners. Where Imps and Hellhounds are the lower class, and generally looked down on, especially by the Goetia, the Sinners are kind of just...there.

They may look down on them a little, and not take the Overlords too seriously, as they see them as nothing but a handful of Sinners with a smidgeon of power - how cute ^.^ They think they can actually do shit! - that doesn't hold a candle to a Goetia's power.

They do tend to underestimate the Overlord's power and can be condescending towards them, but in the end, if an Overlord were to try and go toe-to-toe with a Goetia, they would get their ass beat.

So, the Goetia's attitude towards Pentagram City, the Overlords, and the Sinners is generally indifferent. They simply don't care enough to get involved. The Sinners are none of their concern and they don't want to make them their concern. They only ever interact/deal with the Overlords, and even then, it's sparingly.

The Goetia keep to themselves. The Overlords and Sinners keep to themselves. Both are fine with this. (The Overlords would not be happy if the Goetia decided they wanted more control of city and inserted themselves into the politics and hierarchy).

Overlords

Like how Lucifer is the top dog in all of Hell, the Overlords are the top dogs in Pentagram City (not including the Goetia, who keep to themselves and don't get involved in Sinner business).

The city is run by the Overlords. They each have their own districts, their own imports and exports, and a trade that benefits the city in some way, shape, or form. A lot of their trades can be dependent, or involved, with other Overlord's and their trades, which is an incentive for them to keep the peace and work together.

They meet up fairly often to discuss the happenings in the cities, situations/events that have an impact on all of them (like the Exterminations), problems that arises that they need to groupthink for solutions, and any matter or subject that an Overlord wants to bring up with the other's.

The relationship between the Overlords can vary. Some can be friends, some can just be allies, some can have friction, and some can be flat out rivals. No matter what the relationship is, it's crucial that the order between them be maintained.

Overlords, generally, try not to attack or openly antagonize each other. They don't typically want to start fights, as that is just as much a risk to them as it is to the one they want to fight. And if a fight does break out, either 1) the Overlord will be defeated with the possibility of losing souls - or killed, depending on if their attacker has an angelic weapon, or 2) the defeated Overlord will be embarrassed and angry, and the friction will only get worse and cause more detriment to the group as a whole.

Nobody wants Overlords fighting, especially the Overlords. They're the most powerful Sinners, but even that power has risks. It takes a while to build up, but it can be snatched away so quickly, and few of them want to take that chance. The best option is to get along as best they can when they're in the same room, and keep to themselves and their districts when they separate.

The Overlords are essentially a counsel. They're all considered equals of each other. There is no head of the Overlords. No one who presides over them, except Lilith. They all stand on equal footing and treat each other as such (at least outwardly). They work together to keep the city running, as their empires, power, and trades are dependent on the city. It's in all their best interests to keep it functioning as much as a society can function in Hell. (It helps that they are the ones controlling the system, and thus, they benefit from having a say in what goes on in the city).

If an Overlord were to be "toppled" or killed, it would actually rock the balance that's been established in the city. Suddenly, there will be thousands of Sinners with broken contracts who now own their souls, entire territories that can be seized, a trade/resource that is either up for grabs or gone entirely, and overall chaos and confusion. Greedy Overlords might make a power grab for more territory and souls, which becomes a threat to the other Overlords and their status. More fights break out. More damage and destruction. More friction.

It's bad for everyone. So they try to keep the peace among each other as much as possible.

Crime-Families

Crime-families fall under the Overlords in this hierarchy of power. These crime-families don't have to be "families," they can be gangs, factions, syndicates, or organizations.

Some of them may be owned by an Overlord, fall into the jurisdiction of an Overlord, or are entirely independent with their souls intact. No matter what the relationship is, crime-families do tend to work directly with Overlords.

They specialize in smuggling, trafficking, and recruiting. Unless owned, they typically don't work with just one Overlord, but do business with all of them. They can be paid under-the-table by a specific Overlord to be notified when they have a “fresh supply," or if they found something/someone that could benefit that Overlord, but generally, they keep the entire pool open and neutral, as there's more money to be made that way and there's safety in being a resource for all Overlords, not just one. That way, if they were threatened, it would come to the attention of all the Overlords, as they are a valuable resource and anyone threatening that makes themselves a target.

Owned Sinners

Owned-Sinners are Sinners who have sold their soul. The system for owning and selling souls is a complex one, with pros and cons. There's a reason so many sinners end up selling their souls, despite how serious and significant it is to do so.

And that's because so often the benefits outweigh the risks.

There are many reasons why a Sinner will sell their soul, like fame, money, opportunity, security, safety, housing, jobs, desires, needs, etc... and whoever owns their soul, that person is now responsible for it and them.

Some Sinners will sell their soul as a way to get a well-paying job from an Overlord, or to fall under their protection so they're safe from outside threats, or to pay off loans they can't pay back, or to wipe clean their slate if they get themselves in too much trouble. When an Overlord owns your soul, you have the opportunity to relocate to that Overlord's district as further means of security and opportunity.

Furthermore, most people who sell their souls just...continue living their own lives. Overlords own thousands upon thousands of souls. There's no way they can keep track of every single one of them, or have hyper-specific deals with each one. Most sinners can sell their soul and continue living their afterlife with whatever benefits they sold it for. Easy peasy.

There are, of course, cons too.

Like, the fact that you are owned by someone. You're bound by the contract you signed. You're bound to the person who now owns your soul. The deal you made may have specific requirements that you have to follow, and not doing so can result in very, very bad consequences.

It opens situations for abuse and being taken-advantage of. Even if you change your mind afterward, you can't break the deal. Unless you convince the owner of your soul to dissolve it, they don't hold up their end of the bargain, or you can't find a loophole/backdoor, you're trapped in the contract and there is nothing you can do about it.

Non-Owned Sinners

Non-Owned Sinners fall under Owned-Sinners in this power-structure because they don't have the opportunities or security that comes with being tied to an Overlord.

Overlords can offer protection, housing, well-paying jobs, opportunities, money, debt-relief, a myriad of things. Whereas Non-Owned Sinners are all on their own. They're "free targets." There won't be any repercussions to killing them, hurting them, taking all their shit, trafficking them, literally doing anything to them.

Non-Owned Sinners have the independence and freedom of owning their souls, but they're essentially fishes in a shark tank. They're vulnerable. They're out in the open. They're more likely to live in squalor. Bad things are more likely to happen to them.

Living in Hell, where death, destruction, misery, and torment are the norm, most Sinners will end up selling their souls. And if they don't at first, they usually do eventually when life gets too hard, they get themselves into too much trouble, they fall for a recruiters trap, or they're desperate.

Imps

Imps are below Non-Owned Sinners. The Pride Ring is the most diverse Ring in all of Hell, so there are a lot of Hellborn who live there. Imps are still one of the lowest classes, but there are actually a lot of opportunities for them there.

Sinners don't see Imps the same way other Hellborn do. They weren't born there and they are restricted to the Pride Ring, so they don't see how other Rings treat Imps. 

Imps aren't treated as badly in the Pride Ring, especially in Imp City (which is an entire district in Pentagram City that's in a neutral zone, and thus, under the jurisdiction of no Overlord) and is dominantly populated by other Imps.

Though they still are very much treated as a lower class, it's not as terrible as it can be in other Rings. The diversity of so many sinners and Hellborn make it a little easier. They have job opportunities within the city. They can work for Overlords without having to sell their soul, as Overlords can't own the souls of Hellborn, just other Sinners.

Hellhounds

Hellhounds are at the bottom of the list, as they are canonically the lowest social class in Hell. Most of the jobs they get fall under the category of security, manual labor, sex work, or working with crime-families.

Like Imps, it's a little better in the Pride Ring, given its diversity and the Sinners not having a full scope of just how much lower of a class Imps and Hellhounds are supposed to be. It's not perfect by any means, and the system is still rigged against them, but there's more job opportunities and ways to make a life for themselves.

That's that for the hierarchical system in the Pride Ring, from the highest class to the lowest class. The most powerful to the least powerful.

TLDR: Lucifer is the most powerful but he doesn't want to get involved with Sinners, Lilith helped the city grow until it could stand on its own, Charlie wants to help but struggles due to family issues and being sheltered most of her life, the Goetia don't care enough to get involved with the Sinners, the Overlords are a counsel of equals, Crime families work for the Overlords, Owned-Sinners have more opportunity, Non-Owned Sinners have less opportunity, Imps and Hellhounds have always been considered a lower class, but it's not as bad for them in the Pride Ring.

Up Next: A Deep Dive into the Overlords and their Districts (this is where the real world-building begins)

[silverskye13]

how did you get the confidence to write fanfiction? i always worry that i won't portray the characters properly so any ideas or wants to write fanfics that i have go away or i talk myself out of it :(

Well! First and foremost: Most people don't start writing,,,, anything with confidence. Let alone fanfic, where you know other people are going to be looking at it, with their own ideas of how the characters are supposed to act and feel influencing what they're coming to the story with. My first fanfic I was very insecure, which I feel like was evident, reading through the author's notes now. Apologies whenever something that required a lot of suspension of disbelief happened, a poll so readers could decide the ending so I wouldn't disappoint anybody, only to end in me writing and posting three different endings. Long justifications for why I chose certain things in the author's notes. The fic nowadays reads to me like a very rough apology.

"Hi I'm sorry I tried. Be kind I'm very scared."

But the thing about writing that fic was, it was the writerly equivalent of jumping into the deep end of the pool for the first time. After I bobbed back to the surface and realized a shark hadn't like, taken my legs off while I was down there, jumping in again got easier. And kept getting easier. And now I just write and post things.

There's kind of two schools of thought that I've seen people subscribe to, when it comes to taking the first leap. The one that's really popular around here on Tumblr is: Do it scared. It is simple and straightforward. You are scared. You will be scared. You probably never won't be scared. So do it scared. Write your thing, close your eyes and hit send [either to post it or to share it with one or two friends, or even just hitting the "save" button and not deleting it]. Get scared, do it, close your eyes, finish. When you open your eyes again and nothing terrible has happened, you can breathe a sigh of relief and do it scared again. It's a little nerve-wracking at first, but the idea is giving your mind the association of jumping and not falling. I did it and I didn't fail, therefore it is safe to do it again.

The other school of thought [the one I specifically subscribe to] is: Do it once. What you think or feel about it doesn't matter. What matters is you did it once. Maybe it will be hell, or it'll suck terribly. Maybe you're really excited! And it turns out great! Maybe its a wild ride of ups and downs, and by the end you need a few months to catch your breath and decide if it was worth it. Regardless: you did it once. Now you know, if you want to, you can do it again. Now you can decide if its worth doing again. For me, the euphoria of finishing a project always far outweighs the trouble getting there, so the step forward of "Do it once" is powerful for me. And that can be broken down too. "Write one chapter." "Draw one drawing." "Clean one room in the house." There is no pressure to continue if its really that terrible, but you at least get to decide if one was worth it [and a solid 9 times out of 10, one was worth it enough to do it more.]

Now, all that said, if what you're worried about is writing the characters right and nothing else -- don't worry too much. Most people care less about how true to life the characters are, and care a lot more about consistency in the story. An example from RnS: In canon, Helsknight is a cartoonish villain with one motivation, and that motivation is taking over hermitcraft Doofenschmirtz style. To date, no one has come into my inbox demanding I change him, because he's so OOC he's basically an OC at this point. What people have come into my inbox about though, is "Hey, you established X in this chapter, but he said Y in this chapter. Was there a reason for that?" which is them saying, "Why didn't you keep your character consistent?" If you tell your audience what the expectations are for the story and you stick with them, they will stop caring about OOC moments and characterizations, and will trust you're going somewhere with your writing. Suspension of disbelief, your powerful friend! They put the world on their shoulders and carry and everybody watches and claps.

If you're also worried about consistency, then start out with one shots! There's a lot less room for error, no large, sweeping character arcs to keep track of. And stringing a bunch of one-shots together can give you practice with character consistency and progression without committing to something massive and overarching. If you're truly worried about making the characters exactly like Canon [or the Canon in your head], I recommend making little lists of character traits, or important things you want to keep in mind. At that point you're scared of your own consistency, and you just need a framework to keep yourself consistent enough for yourself, if that makes sense?

Hopefully! This helps! Sorry I'm a little scattered today :'D

[cloudyskiiees]

with the rest of wrong try again plotted out in full, i’ve started plotting out an idea for my next possible long fic. and it’s not a mystery so i can post about it now in case i don’t end up writing it in full!!! yippie!! so here’s my alenoah based superhero au :)

(under the cut cuz it’s a massive post)

i’ve been working on this idea slowly over the last threeish months!!! im happy with the ideas so far and wanna share what’s up to see if ppl are interested :)

the fic would be called “The Masked Mentalist,” in reference to our protag, Noah! he’s considered a villain in this au by society. alejandro is considered a hero.

here’s the characters and their powers i’ve got so far! still subject to change if needed :)

Noah: Villain. “The Masked Mentalist” is his given name by the city, although he doesn’t actually wear a mask. Noah has the powers of “mental manipulation,” stretching to about four different tiers that take more energy depending on how much effort it takes to manipulate the brain.

1: Audio hallucinations. He has a “trademark” of making the world go completely silent for his victim before he attacks. He frequently drops random noises or screams into his opponent’s head to throw them off. It harder to mimic specific voices, which is why he opts to throw ppl off rather than emotionally attack them. Easiest of his powers.

2: Visual hallucinations are harder, but it’s the one noah is the best at. He’s great as messing with people’s appearances, making them see him and other people who may be around as others or sometimes just in horrifying situations. It’s also very simple for him to make someone think they’re trapped in walls or things like that, easy to create objects. He still struggles to completely change the look of an entire location however, which is why he opts to fight in open areas where fake visuals are easier to conjure.

3: Emotions are harder as well, and it can be tricky. he’s very good at pulling emotions from others such as rage or grief, as they’re very easily overpowering emotions. It’s simpler when his opponent is a more emotional/vulnerable person, so he shys away from emotional manipulation in fights usually, especially when he doesn’t know an opponent very well.

4: Memories are hardest, especially if they’re more recent. It’s fairly easy for noah to go and change someone perception on a childhood memory, as it was likely distorted already anyways. The clearer the memory the harder it is to manipulate.

As you can see, all four of these powers have to do with the mind. The way people see or hear things, as well as feel and remember. Noah’s powers allow him to attack any of those in a person.

There’s also technically a fifth one, which Noah figured out to do by himself.

5: The way he figures out how to hypnotize people is through memory AND emotional manipulation. Altering memories and then yanking on certain emotions to pull through, can help him get people to think and even partially act the way he desires. It’s exhausting, and incredibly rare for him to use.

Noah is able to keep his identity hidden by simply altering his appearance to whoever he is fighting. He usually seeks out people when alone, and does his best to not hurt innocents, despite what the public thinks. Everyone who’s fought him/seen him in action describes him differently. Most people aren’t even sure if he even is a “he,” because he makes himself look so drastic sometimes.

He occasionally works with a partner, although they don’t consider themselves to be aligned in general when it comes to crime.

Kaleidoscope is notoriously known for her random crimes and activities. No one can quite figure out her goal or intentions, and so she’s dubbed a vigilante by most.

This of course, being Izzy! When Noah fights with her, he occasionally helps mask her identity from others. She’s a bit reckless, but the two have a history together. A traumatic one at that!

Izzy’s powers are deterioration. She’s able to break/take things apart/crumble things with her mind. Her powers can be as simple or as drastic as she desires.

(She met Noah by saving him from someone attempting to hurt him. By completely destroying their bones from inside their body. Noah was both horrified and grateful.)

Moving on! Alejandro, a “superhero” in our story.

Alejandro doenst have superpowers. At least not in the way our other characters do! Everyone simply assumes he does.

Alejandro is clairvoyant, which is considered a gift, rather than a superpower. His family exploited his talents as a child, so when he was old enough, he fled to be on his own. Nowadays he uses his predictions to help others, being able to foresee certain disasters and small issues. His powers waver depending on their severity, and he has a habit of undoing a certain villains work without even knowing.

He’s dubbed “The Good Samaritan,” when first seen saving people. Over time, the city began to think he had superpowers, and his name changed to “The Physic Samaritan.” Alejandro avoids media and press as much as possible, seeing as it was all he was used to as a child, so no one knows any different. This does not serve him well when real super-powered folk begin to see him as a threat.

Onto our two real superheroes! (so far!!)

Lashawna is the cities main superhero. She’s been protecting citizens for about two years before Noah makes his debut as a villain. She has very standard telekinesis, and is about the most hero looking and sounding hero out there. Her name is “The Golden Hero,” later changed to “The Golden Woman” when she gains a sidekick. Everyone adores her!

Courtney is Lashawna’s sidekick, appearing with her mentor only a few months before Noah shows up. “The Golden Girl,” her powers being one of information absorbing. She’s able to quickly learn anything she needs, simply by skimming words or touching an object… or person.

There’s a bit of a roadrunner scenario for a while between her and Noah, where she’s simply trying to grab him in someway or another, as the action would reveal his real identity to her. Of course, Noah is able to easily evade her, as her powers have little to do with physical superiority. (She’s still incredibly strong and fast. It’s Courtney we’re talking about here.)

Before I talk about our real villain of the story, I’m gonna discuss some plot points!

-Courtney feels incredibly undervalued and overlooked. She thinks if she can manage to reveal the Masked Mentalist’s identity, people would finally start to give her more credit. Lashawna tries to help her calm down, but she’s very fixated on her mission.

-Noah wants control. Deep down he has good intentions, as he’s attempting to dismantle the upcoming “Heroes Program,” starting up in his city, but he loses sight of it for a while. Alejandro becomes a bit of an obsession for him, as he somehow has the entire cities trust while barely being in the public’s eye. It drives him crazy.

-Izzy has so much depth, but acts insane as a defense. She and Noah had very similar upbringings due to their powers, and a fuckton of issues that now stem from it. She hides her pain by acting as though she’s invincible.

-Noah and Izzy have a very deep bond. They truly trust each other more than anyone else, even their civilian friends.

-Team e-scope is very much present! Owen and Eva are humans, and are still best friends with Noah and Izzy. Neither have any clue their two best friends are well known criminals.

Alright actual plot time. And backstory for our super-powered characters!

As usual when it comes to superhuman realities, the powers come from genetic mutations. No one is too sure how it started, but superpowered people have been showing up around the world for the last twenty-ish years.

Children found out to have powers were, of course, taken by the government. At first it was out of fear, but after a few years, the public began retaliating. “Programs,” were then opened, and while it was presented as a choice for parents, it simply was not. If your child had powers and was found out, they would be forced into a program.

Lashawna and Courtney were both placed into a program as young children. Both were released after a number of years to become superheroes. Most children taken are not released.

Both Lashawna and Courtney lack memories from their time in the program. They are conditioned to be perfect superheroes, deemed “safe” for society, due to their powers.

Again, as expected, these “programs” are just ways for scientists to study the mutations in the children. At first there was an attempt to stop it, but nowadays, there’s more of a goal to simply replicate it. Children are treated like animals.

Based on your power, and your behavior, there’s a chance to be released as a hero, such as Lashawna and Courtney, as an example that these programs are a good thing. It’s a way to keep people happy, and keep the more dangerous powers under wraps, at least until they can find a “cure,” or a way to create the gene themselves.

Because each person is different, each mutation acts differently in a person, explaining all the different powers seen. Super powers are still incredibly rare, although they’re widely accepted as a truth nowadays. Two powers acting exactly the same has never been recorded.

Noah and Izzy were never put in a program.

They were smart kids. Noah realized his powers early on in his childhood, and was terrified. Stories of powers had been shown in the news by now, and he wanted nothing to do with it.

His mother discovers it on accident after a year or two of Noah being aware. He panics and attempts to erase her memories of it, failing miserably and only hurting himself in the process.

She promises to keep him safe, just as horrified as he is at the idea of losing her only son. It’s a terrifying childhood for Noah, constantly having to be on the lookout, never being able to openly use his powers, something that so quickly became such a huge part of his identity. He turns to subtly using his powers in public, able to help bring more money and such home for his family. He becomes incredibly talented with his powers as just a teenager.

Izzy never told a soul. She’s had more accidents with her powers than she cares to speak about. She learns of her powers a bit later in childhood, but still before becoming a teenager.

A ten year old accidentally dissolving someone’s skin from their hand when being picked on is a traumatic experience for anyone, but even more so when she kills the other child out of fear. She flees the scene, and loses her shit. She quickly figures out she has a dangerous power, and being just as smart as Noah at such a young age, hides it completely.

She had much less control over her powers for a number of years, being scared of herself.

It isn’t until she sees a man pressing someone clearly struggling to a wall in a dark alley she truly uses her powers for the first time, and makes her first friend. (This friend being Noah, of course.)

Yes very dark backstories for the sillies! They have an insane trauma bond.

With their backstories, you can kinda gather why Noah wants to take down the programs starting up again. They’re much more public this time, and that worries him. He knows nothing good can come from children being forced into such a program, even if he was never in one himself. Izzy is more than willing to help him out for the most part.

The actual plot of the story, of course, is alenoah. This being said, let’s talk about that!

Noah wants Alejandro’s influence on others. Wants the social power the “superhero” holds.

He and Izzy devise a plan to get that influence on their side.

To keep things relatively brief, they corner him, and Noah is able to successfully uses his created hypnosis power on Alejandro, simply getting him to trust Noah, as a civilian.

As soon as the deed is done, he and Izzy pose as his worried friends, claiming he’d fallen and hit his head. When Alejandro questions who they are, Izzy immediately pipes up with “He’s your boyfriend silly!” and Noah. Just. Has to roll with it. He can’t risk changing the narrative so quickly for the boy with the currently muddled memories, and he also can’t berate Izzy right in front of Alejandro. So he agrees.

The two discover after a little bit that he actually is not a superhero, and lacks powers in general. This pisses Noah off greatly, thinking his work was all for nothing. He continues with his plan nonetheless, seeing as no one else knew Alejandro didn’t have powers. That could be an advantage.

Alejandro gradually puts the pieces together over time, never fully recovering his memories, but being able to see through the fog Noah placed over them.

Everything is going pretty well, even with the residual feelings both boy are gaining as they pose as a couple. That is until the real villain of the story shows up.

Duncan! His powers are the ability to create weapons out of thin air, his trademark one being flying knives. The weapons disappear as soon as they hit a target, only being created by his mind, and usually shown as a faint green color. (this is a working idea! still not 100% on it, but i definitely want him to have a weapon related power.)

He was in a program as well, ironically, the same one as Courtney. He was not released, he escaped.

Being dubbed a “dangerous power,” Duncan was set to live the rest of his life out as a lab rat. Of course, being Duncan, he did not like this fate! He’s one of the few children to ever escape, and the only one know to come back as a supervillain.

He’s angry. He’s angry about everything, and with everyone. He’s especially pissed off with Courtney, who he believes simply abandoned him. Courtney doesn’t remember who he is.

No more details for now! (Both because I haven’t planned out enough 100% to post about, and some of it is just for the story!) But I hoped you guys like my silly AU ramblings! I’m having a good time with this idea, so lmk if it’s something you’d like to see more of in the future :)

[halaboyz]

still of serendipity, yunho

ateez bf (ex)! yunho x gn! reader angst angst angst angst ; break-up fic! wc: 1.1k warnings: idk what i should put it as but reader starts to list things that can be considered as self-hate(?); swearing a/n: jeong yunho is just the PERFECT character for playing angst and the way he holds always holds a spot whenever i think of angst is ... this is light angst though! at least for me ^^

It was way past afternoon, yet sometime before night. It was neither dusk or night, you didn't know— with the way the dark clouds uniformly enclosed the bright blue sky maybe minutes ago, dropping hundreds and thousands and millions of rain that formed a rather calming sound in the background.

What you knew though, was that you were still sitting in silence as you stare out the window, hearing yet another sigh coming out of the man's lips in front of you.

"y/n," He calls out, and you look down to heave a breath to hold your tears.

"Yunho, the rain's pretty."

"We've been dragging this out by so long already, y/n. Don't you think it's already time?" Yunho whispers, ever so softly. He scoots closer to you to lean his elbows on the table.

You look at him emotionlessly, yet pleadingly. You were one to expect this was already to come, yet it still hits you like a truck.

"Yunho... I really can't do this right now." It was true. You have a lot on your plate; your job currently thinking whether resigning with you is a good idea or terminating your contract with how you were so idea-less these past few months, your family borderline cutting all connections with each other, friends unable to be contacted— Yunho was the only one you're now holding onto. "I really, really can't. Can't we... wait this out? I really really need you by my side right now and I... can't."

"Do you just need me, y/n?" Yunho stares at you hopelessly, the rhetorical question wanting to be said out loud for weeks already.

It makes you silent, though. Did you really just need him? Did you make him feel like that, that you only needed him? Did it seem like that?

Because you knew for sure you'd travel space and back to prove your love for this man.

So when he asked that, made it seem like you only used him for your benefit— or whatever he meant, that's how you understood it anyway, no point in arguing on an ending fight— you knew it was really a waste of more energy to try and prove something to him.

"If it seemed like that to you, take it like that." The disappointment was still evident in your voice, laced with anything the like of a venom that slowly killed the both of you.

"You know what I mean, y/n. You know how much I love you, and I still do. But... things are just not going too well that even love can't make me stay. I'm not the problem, you're not the prob—,"

"Stop telling me that there's no problem with me, Yunho. I need you to fucking say anything to make me please, fucking hate you." You finally sob, looking around the cafe with no other customers but the both of you, and the barista standing awkwardly behind the cashier, feigning ignorance.

You couldn't care less, though. You messily wipe your tears away but you sob yet again. It just keeps coming. When you said arguing was a waste of energy, crying isn't, that's certain.

"y/n."

"No, Yunho. I need you to spit out every fucking insult you could. Am I fat? Am I too ugly? Short? Do I not have dreams? Passions? Hobbies that don't align with yours? Boastful? Hard-headed? A pain in your fucking ass? Do tell, Yunho. 'Cause I'm about to lose my mind."

"Y/n..."

"I need any! Any fucking reason why you're breaking up with me and giving up on me, Yunho. I'd take on anything you're going to say and believe it and go on with my fucked up life because if not, Yunho..." You sigh, all the emotions mixing as you burst out crying. If it weren't for the raindrops in the background, and the low volume of jazz playing against the four walls of the cafe, you would've been all over the place to prove Yunho a point. "Even if my life turns upside down and you have shitty timing trying to break up with me, Yunho, I'd wait. If you don't say anything right now, I'd wait until the world fucking blows up."

Yunho only looks at you with so much he can give— guilt, a hint of regret, and a lot of sympathy you didn't need.

What you needed was him, his presence, even if he only stood still beside you all throughout, you knew you'd cope.

He was your lifeline, after all.

"Because I love you like that, Yunho. I don't know about you but I know myself and what I gave and what more I can give. So for you to give up on me just because I'm a fucking mess right now and I don't know about you is... shit."

Yunho stays like that, staring at you. Without an ounce of hope for the both of you, obviously.

Eyes of the one who had already long given up on the both of you. Eyes of the one who held nothing of love toward the lady wo cried a river in front of him, who begged him to stay during the lowest part of her life.

"I'm sorry, y/n." Yet he can't bear to hurt you more than you were already hurting. Even if he says every single insult in his vocabulary, he knows you know he wouldn't mean it. He knows that you know he just, as it is, purely, gave up on the both of you because it wasn't working at all between the both of you, right now, an untimely case.

He stands up unhesitatingly, leaving you an umbrella at the side of the table. He mumbles another apology as he takes a step back from your crying figure, finally accepting your fate as you stare out the window rather than seeing him off.

"I wish you well, y/n. I really do. I'm sorry that I can't be... the one." Yunho is a fucking coward. He just is— as he turns his back towards you, with tears finally, without a shame, pour out of his eyes. He can't let you see that side of him as he scurries out of the cafe, to his car in front of the window you longingly stared at.

When he looks back, you were sobbing your life out covered in your hands, and that's when the excruciating pain hit him. He had to clutch his chest to try and lessen the pain.

The pain he had caused. All he wanted to do was run back and engulf you in his arms, but... here we are. The cowardly Jeong Yunho.

Because he left, after all.

[asteria7fics]

I am absolutely in the mood to read an essay about Kyle's portrayal in fanwork 👀 i could read South Park analysis till the cows come home

Alright alright I’m ready to get into this haha.

A couple of things before I start, everything I’m about to say is just my opinion, yeah? I’m no expert, I just think that the way the fandom treats Kyle in a lot of circumstances is… questionable :)

Oookay, let’s GO!

So believe it or not, I don’t actually read a ton of fanfiction. I don’t really have time these days, and when I do I’m so painfully picky about the way certain characters are portrayed that it’s very hard for me to find fics I really vibe with. That being said, I see a lotta shit on this fine website.

Let’s get the obvious shit out of the way. I do not think Kyle should be the default bottom in ANY ship. If we wanna really get into it, my personal take is that this is a holdover from yaoi/fujoshi culture that is so painfully steeped in heteronormative bullshit of one person needing to be the ‘dominant’ and one needing to be the ‘submissive’ even outside of the context of kink. Essentially, one character has to be the ‘girl’ and one has to be the ‘boy’, even in a homosexual relationship.

I’ve blabbed about this before, but I don’t think I’ve ever talked about why I don’t think that Kyle should be the default ‘submissive’ in his relationships.

First of all, Kyle is just not submissive. At all. Or I should say, he isn’t often. I think the only context where he tends to submit is with his mother, and if you really want to sit here and defend your choice based on him having ‘mommy issues’, I guess you can technically say that.

Personally, I see Kyle as being very headstrong and, honestly kinda intense. While this hasn’t always been super consistent in his personality early on in the show’s run, it’s certainly has been now. I mean, he was willing to shoot at his friends’ moms in The End of Obesity because he believed so strongly in what he was doing, and why he was doing it. Kyle’s stubbornness and unwillingness to waver on his morals and values is a driving force for conflict in the show, like, all the fucking time, whether he’s correct (as in, the creators agree with his stance) or not.

I bring up his personality in the early run because I do think a lot of the issues I have with his characterization now comes more from early fandom portrayals than anything that’s actually currently supported by the source material. As an example, Kyle being the weakest physically of the main four makes a lot of sense in the context of those early seasons, but it doesn’t really work with his current characterization, if I’m being honest.

This isn’t to say I dislike him being sickly, mind you. I actually think that can be really compelling if Kyle has to grapple with the fact that his physical weakness is at odds with his mental strength.

Hoooowever, I think this has to be done in a really specific way, and this sorta brings me to my next point.

Why are we out here victimizing Kyle so damn much? Like, I get it, bad shit happens to him in the show (don’t talk to me about Humancentipad) but why are we just tormenting Kyle for seemingly no reason? Are we in the middle of a dead dove arms race?

I do think this ties back to this idea of Kyle being a default submissive, and I’ve certainly not always been kind to the kid in my own work but damn you guys are fucking mean to him. What did he ever do to you??

I suppose tormenting characters is sort of… par for the course in any fandom, but man I just don’t see the appeal of it being Kyle that’s getting the brunt of the abuse, especially when he ends up being reduced to a helpless, pathetic little thing. Like at that point just pick a different character, I mean Butters is right there you guys.

I’m not going to act like any one ship leans more or less into these tropes either, I think all sides of the fandom are guilty of disregarding a lot of what makes Kyle’s character compelling in the show. I will, however, take a moment to complain about some of the popular ships that Kyle is in.

Kyman: You know how I feel about these two. A stellar dynamic with so much problematic shit bubbling under the surface. Let’s disregard the inherent discomfort around an open anti-Semite and a Jewish person being together because… I willingly ignore that to ship Yentlman in my main works (rip self read). Even without that bit of their relationship, these two are just too goddamn similar. Both stubborn, both going to extreme lengths to prove the other wrong, OR enabling one another to do some pretty shitty things.

I think Post Covid did it best by showing how they BOTH bring out the worst in one another. While I enjoy these two platonically, I don’t personally enjoy romantic ships that are this toxic.

I’ve also expressed before that I think a fic lives and dies on how Cartman is written, so while this post is about Kyle’s depictions in fan works, I do think we have to consider the way the other half of a pair is written as well.

I got some really lovely tags on that one post I reblogged and word vomited all over that brought up how Cartman, supported by canon, is a severely traumatized individual, and how that can support a more sympathetic view of him (I’m not tagging the person in case they don’t want to be involved in discourse like this but I appreciate your insights and you made a very good point, if you are reading this).

This does, however, bring up a whole other host of issues with their dynamic. If we’re romanticizing the idea that Kyle is some kind of moral savior for Cartman then… man, idk. You guys are gonna have to help me on this one, is that common in the ship? Is Kyle playing therapist with Cartman, and that’s how we’re justifying sanitizing him?

Also, say it with me now, there is no way in sand hell that Kyle would let Cartman top him. I know, I’ve read it, and I can see where the idea is coming from but come on. Kyle is too prideful for that shit. Now if y’all start giving me Kyle topping Cartman and making him fucking beg for that hot Jew sploog then MAYBE I’d be able to get behind this ship.

Style: Oh you thought my preferred ship was safe? Haha no ma’am, because Style shippers are the fucking WORST when it comes to feminizing Kyle.

I respect the Style shippers that came before me with their football star Stan and pissbaby twink Kyle, I really do. However it’s time to move on. I made this point in a previous post (that I know you’ve seen my friend, much love for your support on my hot takes) but for those who didn’t see it, I really believe the thing that separates Kyman shippers from Style shippers is that Kyman shippers tend to treat Kyle like an equal to Cartman, while Style shippers really lean on Kyle being weaker than Stan to make their dynamics work.

What’s really funny to me is that what I think makes Style work in its best iterations is when they are truly treated as equals, because they absolutely should be.

Now I may sound like a hypocrite here because I know I play around with power dynamics in my Styles quite a bit, but I think I make it very clear that even when Kyle is technically bottoming, he is not necessarily submitting.

I also can give credit where credit is due, Kyman shippers do not shy away from how much of an asshole Kyle can be sometimes. Style shippers though? Man, I understand wanting to lean more on Kyle's positive traits (he IS a very empathetic, friendly, driven person that always wants to do the right thing) but he can become 'too good' very quickly when you don't balance those things out with his negative traits.

Kyle is pretentious. Kyle thinks he knows best even when he really doesn't. Kyle is quick to anger and sometimes cares TOO much, to the point of getting carried away and making things worse (rip to Canada).

The only negative trait Style shippers are pretty consistently on board with is him being hotheaded, which is fair! But also? To stay consistent with my current branding, that's like seasoning all of your food with just salt and pepper. Like sure, it adds flavor, but we all know the dish could taste so much better if you sprinkle on a little something more.

K2: I am... Utterly indifferent to this ship. Like, I've seen some cute fanart? But I've never partaken and it doesn't really interest me, sorry gang.

Cryle: Another ship I've never really partaken in, but that makes significantly less sense to me. It's giving crack ship, which is fine? But from what I have consumed a lot of people sort of approach them with all the worst aspects of both Kyman and Style. Craig is not as compelling as Cartman as a foil for Kyle, so when people do lean into the evil Craig headcanon that was common in early fandom, it seems they also lean into the pathetic, victim Kyle tropes that are common in Style works.

I'm sorry if y'all love this ship, I'd never really paid it any mind until recently and while I have read works that included them that I thoroughly enjoyed, I don't think I'll ever root for them to be endgame.

And if your favorite Kyle ship isn't here, sorry to say I don't know enough to speak on them (in fact I shouldn't have even brought up K2 for that reason, but I figured someone would probably mention it since it seems pretty popular).

Look, this is a mess and I am certainly not the authority on characterizing any of these goobers. But you asked, and I hope you enjoyed my silly little opinions. This is in no way meant to be constructive, but if you guys want something more organized and constructive breaking down how I characterize Kyle or any of the kids, you know where to ask!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

just a girl 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as possible cheating, low self-esteem, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you move in with your sister when your luck turns for the worst.

Characters: Walter Marshall, possible Andy Barber

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

You wash away the tang of the barbeque sauce with the wine. In your nervousness, you lost track of how much you’ve drank. Even as you eat, with nothing much to say, he watches you. Walter’s intensity is as roiling as the waves that rippled off the grill. 

He’s on his second can of beer but hardly seems affected. You think it’s not as strong as wine. You look at your glass and the last mouthful. 

“Don’t wanna waste it,” he leans forward and winks. 

“Oh, uh,” you gulp then put the crystal to your lips. You force yourself to swallow the last little bit. 

He stands, causing you to wince. He chuckles as he grabs the wine bottle and uncaps it. You watch him with wide eyes. 

“You’re so jumpy, relax,” he purrs as he fills your glass again. You watch the blush liquid with dread. “That lawyer idiot’s got you on edge.” 

“It isn’t...” you chew your lip and look away, “I think I’ve had enough.” 

“Bah, we’re just getting started,” he winks and plunks the bottle back down, “I’m gonna grab another beer.” 

“Right,” you agree without further protests. 

You sit back and pout into the glass. You want to go but he’s completely correct. Andy has you all twisted up and out of sorts. You can’t go back there. Not yet. You’re stuck here. Walter is every bit as intense as your brother-in-law just in a very different way.  

You stare up at the sky. It’s getting dark. You really don’t want to walk home drunk and you can feel your eyes getting foggy. You feel a bit jittery but that could just be the usual. Unthinkingly, you take a swig to soothe yourself. You see how it can be so dangerous to drink. 

The screen door snaps again and Walter reappears. Your eyes round and flick back up to the sky as you see him. Oh. 

He wears only a pair of short grey-blue swim trunks, thought they look more like boxers. They’re short enough that the muscles of his thighs are on displayed in thick cords and the hair along them stands stark against his skin. He is thick all over. The peek of the dark hair the trails from chest to pelvis stains your mind. Don’t think about that. 

You wipe your forehead with the back of your hand. 

“Come on, let’s have some fun. You know, the hot tub is actually a great way to cool off,” he cracks the tab on the can in his hand, “or spice things up. Whatever you want.” 

You turn the stemmed glass and fidget, “I’m good.” 

“Don’t make me drag you,” he kids. “You ever have fun or do you just sit in the dark and listen to grunge?” 

Your eyes dart up to him as hurt creases around your lips. He sounds like Andy. He thinks you’re pathetic too. 

“Look,” he lets out a long breath, “I’m pulling your chain, tryna loosin’ you up. I didn’t mean anything by it. Just... you could use a hot soak. I can see the tension in your shoulders. They’re almost touching your ears.” 

You drop your shoulders decisively. He’s not lying. You’re so rigid, you’re quivering. It might be nice if you were alone. 

“Well, you get that wine down and come join me when you’re ready.” He nears and you shy away. He taps the side of his can against your glass, “cheers.” 

He takes another dip gulp and turns away. He strides off, tramping down the steps, as you watch the muscles in his back. If he wanted to put you in the tub himself, you’re certain he could. You’re a guest and you don’t want to be rude. Even to him. 

You blow out between your lips and tamp down the last of your worry. If you clench your jaw any tighter, your teeth might just break. You’re tired of the stress, of the tension, of the constant self-hatred. If the wine can make you forget all that, it can’t be that bad. 

You nearly gag as you choke down the rose. You hold back a belch and stand, finding yourself off-balance as you get to your feet. You shake your head and grab the bottle of wine. You leave the glass on the table. 

You come down the steps as Walter sighs and leans his head back, his arms stretched around the side of the hot tub. His eyes are closed as he basks in the cooling air. You walk as the wine sloshes noisily in the glass. You see his can sticking out of a cup holder built into the trim. You find another and plunk the wine into it. 

You back up and stare at the tub, contemplating. You look down then up again. His eyes are open as he reaches for his beer and watches you. You tap your fingers against your thighs. 

“Well?” He raises his brows. 

“Um,” you swallow. 

You turn away so you don’t have to look at him. You’re really going to do this. It’s no different than a swim suit, right? You pull of your tee shirt and reveal your cotton bra. You fold it up and leave it on the folding table near the tub. You take your time untying your converse and peeling off your socks. 

You stand again and undo your thigh, the noise of the jets droning in your ears. You push your pants down and hear a low noise. You step out of the denim and face Walter as he tilts his head, his teeth sinking into his lower lip. 

“Looking good,” he purrs. 

You cross your arms over your stomach and put your head down. You approach the edge of the tub and quickly climb over the side. You ease in opposite him and he clucks. He shifts to claim the seat next to you. You turn your attention to the sky. 

“Don’t gotta be shy,” he reaches past you, leaning close, and grabs the wine, “come on.” 

You eye the bottle and take it from him. You drink from the long neck and pop your lips off. You twist up your mouth and put it back. The heat is not helping. You vision is ringed and fuzzy and your body feels loose. 

“You good?” He rubs your shoulder, his hand hotter than the water. You blink and look over at his touch. 

“Think so,” you choke out. 

“Mm,” his thumb rubs circles into your skin, “you really are built nicely.” 

“Um,” you close your eyes and steady yourself, “thanks... I guess...” you remember the smell of wood chips and feel hands around your hips, the saw buzzes loudly. Your eyes snap open as he tickles along your neck, “I don’t feel too good.” 

“Gotta let the wine settle,” he purrs and leans down to kiss your shoulder as his hand creeps up the back of your neck. “You’re good.” 

“Uh huh,” your eyes roll in your head as your skin speckles with hot and cold. His beard tickles along your collar bone as his curls brush your face, “what--” 

He grips your neck and buries his face in your chest. You gasp and jolt in the water but find your limbs heavily and clumsy. You press your hands to the plastic grooves to keep from slipping as he brings his other hand up to cup one side of your chest. 

“Walter?” You croak. 

“Mmm, it’s alright, baby,” he speaks against your skin, “I’ll treat you right,” he hooks his fingers under the band of your bra, tugging until one side of your chest falls free, “you just relax.”