#the most heinous shit imaginable in real time

[babakoli]

i NEED to get off twitter

[princessbrunette]

ᡣ𐭩 ｡ꪆৎ ˚⋅PRINCESSBRUNETTES SCREAM SALON INTRODUCES … ໒꒰ྀི ˃̵ ࿁ ˂̵ ꒱ྀིა

PLAYING DANGEROUS ࣪𓏲ּ ᥫ᭡ ₊ ⊹ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃

♩ lana del rey — playing dangerous ♩

pairing: detective!johnb x reader.

cw: mentions of a murder, reader is a murderer, mentions of the law, slight age gap, abuse of power, sexual content.

you are responsible for your own media consumption. welcome to kinktober day two.

nothing ever happens in this town.

nothing worth talking about anyway. only god knows why john b was stationed out here. what kind of detective work was there to do out in the sticks you might ask? jack all, that’s what. nothing but the occasional stolen tractor, and one time — oh, one time, somebody vandalised the town statue outside the city hall, leaving john b to figure out who did it. now that one was real exciting, he knows he’s not meant to — but he secretly loved the smart criminals. made his job just that bit more exciting. the vandal took out the security cameras facing the monument, and also had questionable motive for the graffiti. took john b the whole of two days to figure out who did it, and they didn’t even get an arrest. just a hefty fine. the criminals round here were boring as ever.

until you.

a murder, in his small town. it rocked everyone, as you can imagine. everyone knew everyone round here, which made things all that more interesting. a young man’s house had been burnt down, with him inside of it. john b had to commend you, you’d sent him out with a bang, not even bothering with a boring method of murder, more paperwork sure but god was it worth it. a real case, hell — he cracks this one and they might even move him up to the city. get him on some real jobs.

now not only were you apparently this young man’s scorned ex lover, the kid apparently being some kind of serial cheater — but john b had asked around, and apparently you hadn’t been careful enough to cover your tracks when purchasing large amounts of gasoline. to him, it was pretty obvious who’d done it— but there was procedures he had to take. things aren’t always as they seem, and john b couldn’t afford to jump the gun and ruin his chances at a promotion.

knock, knock, knock.

it’s late, he’s aware. 9PM isn’t the most appropriate time to show up at a perps door, but hell — with this case came a buttfuck load of paperwork that he hadn’t been doing before and it had taken up all his time. now it was time for some real action, his stomach stirs in excitement. shit, his cock almost hardens.

he starts observing you before you’ve even greet him. the sound of socked feet on wood. do you sound hesitant? frightened? confident and unknowing? is there an air of acceptance to your walk, knowing you commit the heinous crime? he pretends not to notice the jostling of curtains in the window at the front of the house as you undoubtedly take a peak. he figured that was fair, as it was so late — rocking comfortably back and forth on his feet with his hands behind his back.

you take another minute to answer, so he frowns, letting out a little whistle and going to knock again. “uh, are you—”

you swing open the door, big stepford smile on your face. here we go.

“officer?”

“detective.” the brunette flashes his badge, tight and polite smile as he peers into your hallway. “i’m sorry to drop by so late ma’am is this… this a good time?” he’s awkward, young in nature and not so much in stature, the lines in his forehead and around his eyes already telling you he’s a bit older. as you observe him right back, he clears his throat and fixes his tie.

“of course, detective.” you correct with a smile, a knowing one — like you were sharing a joke between friends. he’s unsettled by your energy.

“‘don’t mind if i come inside then do ya? kinda… chilly tonight.” he stuffs his hands in his pockets, pivoting his body round to glance at the blowing trees. your expression settles like you’d been waiting for him to ask, and you widen the door gap — exposing all of you. you stand in the littlest night gown, white silk against your skin and john b feels like letting out a comical gulp. he didn’t think you’d be beautiful. where do beautiful girls get off murdering people? beautiful girls could have whatever they want.

“my, i’m a little shy standing here in my nightgown.” you converse as he passes you, acknowledging that you did infact catch him looking. he says nothing, just smiles and huffs out an awkward chuckle from his nose as he respectfully dusts his boots off on your welcome mat before strolling inside. the house was dark, lit only by candles and you follow him to the living room.

“tea? coffee?” you offer and he lowers himself into an arm chair, patting the quilted arms a few times with his large flat hands. he wants to scoff, knowing better than to take a drink from a probable murderer.

“wh— oh no no, this uh. this shouldn’t take long.” he watches you just as carefully as you watch him, and you make the conscious decision not to sit. you stay standing infront of him, skin glowing in the low light. you were wearing so close to nothing it was distracting to a pent up, perpetually single man like john b. he feels like loosening his tie.

“very well then, detective. what seems to be the issue?”

“do you know anything about a fire, ma’am?” he sounds hesitant, eyes wide but only in the way where he’s stiff with observation, not wanting to miss a second of a tell you might give. there’s a pause of hesitation before you nod, crossing your arms over yourself. unfortunately the only note taken there was that the action pressed your tits together.

“yes. very tragic.”

“yeah, no for sure… not many fires in this town right? got down to a record break last year. only three fires and they were pretty small.” he converses, relaxing a little into the seat. you stay on your feet.

“was bound to happen at some point i suppose. men have a habit of being reckless, leaving things switched on and so on. probably fell asleep with a candle burning.” you sway, eyes flickering to your own candles like you were imagining the same fate for yourself.

“for sure, for sure…” john b nods slowly, taking a moment to look down at his lap as he thinks. where he looks back up, you’re staring.

“he was a uh, boyfriend of yours — if my intel is correct?”

“ex. ex boyfriend.” you correct, jaw tightened just a smidgen like you couldn’t help yourself. john b stares you down, infact he could swear his lips quirk upward just a tiny bit. he’d so got you.

he settles a little more, resting his elbow on the arm of the seat so he could prop up his chin, staring at you with a knowing look.

“mind telling me where you were on sunday evening?” shit.

he watches the shift of emotion on your face, the way it falls ever so slightly before immediately lifting again, like you had full faith on yourself. you smile, huffing out a breathy little giggle as you tilt your head to the side like a confused puppy.

as you speak, you slowly begin to slip the strap of your nightgown down the smooth skin of your shoulder. “gosh, i barely remember. i spend so much time here… all lonely… was probably… keeping myself company, if you catch my meaning, officer.”

“detective.” he rasps, eyes following the strap like the weakling he is. he clears his throat.

“apologies, detective.” you correct, before pulling down the other strap. “you mind if i slip into something a little more comfortable before we continue with this?” you shoot him the innocent doe eyes. he raised his eyebrows, and you drop the nightgown to your feet anyway, naked as the day you were born. “much better.”

john b chuckles, tilting his head to the side as he looks up at you. “this what we’re doing now?” he deadpans with that warm friendly smile that drew you closer.

you giggle, and this time it’s actually authentic, stepping closer until you brave straddling his lap. he winces like you’d placed hot iron on him.

“is it working?” you try your luck, and he’s distracted by the fat of your hips, his coarser hands sliding up them to grab at the meat of them, watching the way your folds part around his growing bulge through his black work pants.

“ugh, i don’t know.” he groans quietly. he knew there was another version of him somewhere, behind glass, watching this all go down. he’d pound on the glass, telling himself to stop, that he was throwing away everything all for some pussy — but the truth was, he was lonely too. this life didn’t leave much room for… socialising.

knowing you were close to breaking him, you roll your hips, letting out an exaggerated whimper as you watch his hands slide up to your tits. “m’sure i can change your mind somehow detective. you really don’t wanna put those tight handcuffs on me, i’m only a fragile girl.”

“fuuuucking shit.” he groans in despair, and you feel his hardness wedged up beneath you.

it’s not even five minutes later and you’ve got him inside of you, his pants around his ankles — a true testament to the way you’d caught him out, used his loneliness against him and it didn’t even take any convincing, he cracked pretty much immediately. shit, he loved his job — but maybe he didn’t wanna go big city cop after all.

your hips went from rolling to aggressive bouncing, your teeth grit, primal and forceful like you couldn’t help yourself. the sweet little mewls you let out after each bounce didn’t match the sheer force at which you were milking him. over the harsh plap plap plap sound — you lean forward to his ear.

“why you lettin’ me get away with it detective? s’it cos you like me? do you like me?” god you were insane, but the neediness in your voice filled a hole he’d craved. he’d always wanted one of those girlfriends, the type that cares too much, wanna know his every move. he knew it was wrong, hell — you’d killed someone. but something about it was getting him off just as much as it was you.

despite being older than you by quite a bit, his eyes held this puppy like quality to them, a youthful gaze he stares up at you with. “because you’re pretty. really pretty, and uh — you’re young.” wow, he was messed up. he’s not even sure why he said the last part, everything was just so twisted.

he was aware of how much he was screwing himself. but hey, john b had always been a sucker for doe eyes and pretty tits, so who could blame the man?

[writella]

More Negan x reader pllsss😔😔😔

pls the emojis are sending me hahahah! let me know how you like it!

Thinking of Negan who daydreams about the reader who always has the cutest outfits when she comes to visit— ♡

cw: negan x fem!reader, smut— masturbation (m) and descriptive allusions to sexual situations, very desperate and depraved Negan because he is in jail, and reader being cute and nice and just too irresistible :) + I wrote this with a little bit of Negan’s crude humor in mind. wc: 2.1k. slightly proofread.

Negan never thought he would stoop so low.

Not like some 20 year old guy living in his mom’s basement; the type he’d talk shit to then completely demolish on a game; one who drinks monsters and watches porn on the daily back in the old B.W. (Before Walkers— for those of you who are uncultured) era.

That was beneath him.

If he needed it, there was his wife of course, or some chic he could hook up with at the bar, but— let’s not remind him of that. That is a wound that needs no further reopening. He was ashamed of it and everything else he’s done enough as it is. Not to mention, it sure doesn’t help that he was reminded of every single heinous act he has ever committed in the A.W. years by the grand total 5 patrons that have visited his cell every- single-god-damn- day.

But now, there was a new thing to cause him great shame.

A girl.

You.

You who gives him his meals on Fridays—Gabriel’s day off. You who just can’t help but stay 5, 10, sometimes even 30 minutes after you give him his food because he always makes you laugh. You, one of the town’s gardeners, who throws in fresh strawberries during breakfast and an extra cob of corn during dinner when you know you shouldn’t. You who didn’t eat your cookie from Carol’s monthly batch she brought from the Kingdom because you gave it to him instead. You with your three sets of overalls and far too many sundresses, yet you only had one sunhat, one pair of gardening gloves, and one pair of waterproof boots.

You were way too generous with him and a little too passionate about your clothing to the point he thinks you must forget you’re living in the zombie apocalypse, but you were skilled, kind-hearted, and you liked to smile; you actually had conversations with him instead of that kumbaya shit Gabriel’s always on; and he’d be damned say you weren’t really pretty. Because you are. You’re real fuckin’ pretty.

And Negan was obsessed.

He thought about you constantly.

Like how he knew you must have always picked off the strawberries stems for him before you put them on his plate. And how he definitely knew you must have offered to give him his lunch and dinners on Fridays: He remembers that Gabriel told him that this would only be a morning thing, that the council advised him to have one day off because he was a new father. But, as dutiful as he is (and as weary as he was to bring someone else around Negan), he agreed only to breakfast. That way, he could sleep in, eat with Rosita and the kids, and not feel like he completely burdened someone else with a responsibility that was only meant to be his. Negan figured you were just that kind, that you must have been the one to offer up your Friday mornings to Gabriel. How you must have been the one to ask to come back two more times throughout the day, you must have. For Gabriel, of course, to help. But maybe you just liked him. He liked imagining that. In fact, he believed it.

He also liked to imagine that maybe you were dressing up for him. He sure loved your little outfits. Your overalls were your work clothes but still, you always looked so darn cute, always finding small ways to accessorize or make it feel more like your personality. It was all so innocent really, but he couldn’t help but find it incredibly sexy— how pretty and oblivious you were to how you looked, how your clothes fit you. He often daydreamed of fucking you in every single one.

The first, the overalls you wore most often for work, was full length and completely baggy on you— he figured it must have been for a man. It was old, the hem was fraying in some areas, and it did nothing for your figure really but it was soft, durable, had many pockets and you typically put scraps of ribbon or lace you found on the straps, right on the shoulder. And his favorite part, you were often wearing a crop top with it. He could always see the side of your breast, your waist, sometimes even a tiny bit more depending on how you turned. Sometimes he thought of you in that tight little floral tank of yours. How one day maybe he’d tell you to, “take it off,” and you’d obediently drop the overalls to the floor; or maybe it would be you, while you’re on your way out: you turn around, gathering up enough courage after all this time to look him in the eye as you take off your boots and unclip the straps and let the denim fall, leaving you in only that tank and your panties. He imagines how you’d push yourself into the corner where the door was, look out the small window to see if anyone was coming, and then you’d face him again, keeping eye contact as you slipped your fingers inside your underwear and started to rub your clit, fast. Wordlessly, his jumpsuit would come off too and his hand would go straight to pumping his cock. Mesmerized by the sight of you being so unlike yourself because you wanted him just that bad, so bad neither you, nor he, could speak. Only pants and moans and grunts and “fucks,” to be heard in the room.

The second and the third was an overall dress and one with shorts. The first time you wore the dress, he remembers it was a Friday that a lot of people had left town. Unfortunately a kid got lost so many people went out to search with the family. Thankfully for Negan though, this included Gabriel, Michonne, and the two other people who tended towards Negan. Gabriel had assigned you to keep a closer watch on him that day, that the days like this where the regular schedule is thrown off is the time he might try something— Gabriel is still angry at himself for the time Negan escaped— so you took it upon yourself to bring an activity: cards. After you won a second time, Negan had playfully thrown his cards on the floor, two of them slipping past the bars and past you. You had turned to see where they went and reached forward on your knees, arm extending to get them. You weren’t directly turned but Negan sure did take the small chance he got to move more towards his right and catch a closer glimpse of your exposed thighs and color of your underwear. After you left that day he imagined that right at that moment he grabs you by the hips, pushed your ass up against the bars and pushed your panties down so he could slide into you, fucking you through the bars as much as he could, probably giving the bottom of your ass red marks every time he bangs into you against the steel.

With the shorts, he thought of scenarios more or less the same as with your full length ones. The difference is that your ass looked great in those shorts and sometimes he imagined you pushing your back against the cell bars so he could push his front against it, giving him some friction. Him telling you that it’s been years, but you’re shy and scared and you don’t want to get caught so you just do that, allow him to rub against you as you look out the window to make sure no one is coming. He imagines that you can't help but start sighing, squeezing your thighs together, moaning when he wraps his arms around your waist through the bars. One hand snaking up to grope your breast while the other cups your mound over your overalls and you rock into his hand as he presses in on you hard. You almost lose your breath, taking a sharp inhale that freezes to a halt. Finally, you'd whisper, “That feels so good,” followed by a whine. And he’d respond to you in your ear, “I know, baby.” A big wet spot is slowly appearing on your jeans and you’re not even looking out the window, your eyes are rolling back until they closed and you’re just making these tiny pathetic sounds because you can’t believe how incredible his touch is, even when you’re given so little, and how bad you’ve wanted him even though you’ve tried to deny it. “No one else makes me feel like this,” you’d tell him, to which he repeats, deep, dark, and sultry as he kisses the back of your head, “I know, baby. I know.”

Lastly, there were those sundresses. Sometimes he’d see you in them when you brought him dinner. If you could, you would freshen up before your own dinner because you got off from work early and didn’t want to be in your work clothes anymore or maybe you were having dinner with friends or Gabriel and Rosita— he often treated you because of your care for Negan on Fridays. Most people liked to pretend Negan doesn't exist, or unsolicitedly proclaimed to you and Gabriel with disgust how they would never dare go anywhere near the jailhouse, that you two must be saints, so he finds what you’re doing to be a big sacrifice. Therefore, he often invites you for meals and he and Rosita are either on the look out or ask savangers to bring back any dresses in your size. But it was a time that Negan least expected to see you that he saw you in what became his favorite dress.

It was on a Wednesday. Certainly after 12am or close to it. People were asleep, but you were sneaking towards his cell. Apparently someone from work had ground some chocolate from her wife that worked as a savager. She gave you a few pieces but you never ate them and forgot about them until you were doing some late night cleaning on your day off, so you came to treat Negan. The dress you were wearing was the tiniest thing he’d seen you in. As in, it could have been a mid-length dress on Judith. It was a deep pink color, almost purple, with small flowers in a different shade of the same family all around it. It had these very short, very slightly puffed sleeves. He could tell that it was a dress that flowed out, but that didn’t stop the material from showing your curves. He knew for a fact that if you bent over you would be giving anyone behind you a show, but honestly with how much your legs were exposed, you walking around in that must have been enough to make anyone’s head turn. Immediately he started thinking about him outside of this cell, as your man, seeing you strut around town in it, how he’d push you to the side behind a house, ask you if you wore it for him, if you were trying to make him jealous, and then fuck you hard. Then he remembers that you’re offering him chocolate, and saying that you know you shouldn’t be here, so he saves those thoughts for after you leave. You start tugging on your dress, trying to make it longer and he thanks you. Truly, that was your house dress. It was always a little snug on the top so you could never wear a bra with it regardless and you had accidently washed in your sink with hot water— you had a knack for not reading clothing labels— and it shrank. You only remember how short it is now after not wearing it outside for so long and seeing how Negan’s eyes widened at you as you came in. Did you do it on purpose? you both now question. You decide it doesn’t matter, telling yourself you were just doing something nice and you run off to bed quickly. As for him, he cares as much as he doesn’t: of course he wants you to like him and he still has a big ego enough to assume you do, especially after tonight, but most importantly you just gave him more fuel for his imagination while he’s stuck here which is enough for now.

After fucking himself when you left, he still woke up rock hard the next morning. Waking up late, he had to act quick before Gabriel came with his breakfast. He used one of his favorite methods of pushing his bed to the side, and placing himself in the darkest corner of his cell, his figure facing the wall. He’d take himself out and as always, start to pump. He places his hand on the wall for leverage and he pretends he’s fucking you against the wall. He imagines that one night you say you can’t sleep and ask if you can sleep with him in his bed. How he would be such a gentleman and say that a lady wasn’t good enough to sleep in his crappy cell, but that instead he knew another way to tire you out. One the two of you could do fast so you wouldn’t get caught. That one always got him to his climax so fast— the thought of you needing him so much that you would come inside his cell, stay on his bed until morning, get in trouble for him. It would make him come like a bullet, hard and fast.

Safe to say, Negan loves Fridays.

[fatecantstopme]

I Can't Walk Away

Pairing: Nick Amaro x plus size!reader

Summary: When you and your boyfriend break up, you're faced with the seemingly impossible task of putting yourself back together. Luckily for you, your very handsome coworker is more than happy to help along the way.

Warnings: Body image issues, low self-esteem, mentions of toxic/abusive relationships, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, light dom/sub vibes, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V).

A/N: This was entirely self-indulgent and I have no regrets.

Spanish Translations:

Querida: sweetheart/darling

Hermosa: beautiful

Mierda: shit

Por favor: please

Si: yes

All other translations will be after the sentence in brackets/italics.

You dropped onto Olivia's couch with a huff, tears still threatening to break through your stubborn facade.

"Are we gonna talk about it or do I need to have someone beat him up?" Liv asked you, a small smirk gracing her face.

"As much as I'd love to see his ass get handed to him, I think we should avoid committing any crimes," you said lightly.

Olivia sighed softly and reached over to put her arm around you. You leaned into her shoulder and began to let your guard drop. Olivia had been your best friend for over a decade now, your time working together in SVU having brought you closer than you could have imagined.

"He was an asshole, (Y/N/N)," she said softly. "You deserve better."

"You say that, but I guess I just don't believe it," you muttered.

It nearly broke her heart to hear you speak so negatively of yourself, but she knew no matter how many uplifting words she spoke, you would still refuse to believe her.

"Maybe there's something wrong with me," you whispered, tears finally beginning to fall. "Maybe I'm broken--unloveable."

"Hey," she chided. "You are so many things, (Y/N), but broken and unloveable are not among them."

She tightened her grip on you, pulling you into a proper side hug. She let you cry into her shoulder, her own heart breaking along with yours.

You knew, objectively, she was right--your now-ex was indeed an asshole. He'd never treated you well and had often put you down and made you feel terrible about yourself. Your self-esteem had been lower than usual when you met him and in the 6 months you'd been together, he'd managed to destroy whatever vestige of self-love you had left.

There wasn't a single thing about you he didn't belittle. Whether it was your physical appearance, your career, your hobbies, your dreams...he made you feel like everything you ever did was a mistake. In his estimation, you were too fat, unintelligent, boring...and your choice in career was just about the worst thing you could do.

You'd made it your mission in life to help the victims of particularly heinous crimes, which is why you'd been working at SVU for almost 12 years. You were the squad's forensic psychologist, and you loved your work. In many respects, it was the one thing that really brought joy to your life. It was your greatest passion--and the amount of time you spent at work certainly showed it.

Yet during those 6 months with him...your love for the job had begun to wane. Every time you'd stay late or have to cancel a date, he'd berate you for it--mocking your job and your inability to 'be a real person'. Now that you'd finally taken the leap and broken up with him, you were hopeful you could fall back in love with your work.

In this moment, however, all you could think about were the horrible things he'd said to you when you told him you wanted to break up. He'd been especially cruel, calling out every physical insecurity you had and making you feel like an absolute pile of human garbage. He'd called you fat, ugly, unloveable, gross...and a million other things you couldn't bear to repeat.

You weren't thin--you knew that, but you weren't gross. That was just offensive. Unfortunately, he wasn't the first ex to make comments about your weight--something you'd been struggling with for most of your adult life. The words had hit you harder than you'd expected, making you actually think he might be right...maybe you were the problem.

Olivia's voice broke you out of your thoughts, "Do you want to stay here tonight?"

You just nodded, not trusting your voice to answer her properly.

She squeezed you a little tighter, her reassuring presence grounding you in ways you desperately needed. You were always thankful for her friendship, but it was moments like this where you were reminded how much she really meant to you.

**********

You'd spent most of the weekend at Olivia's and by the time Monday rolled around, you were feeling a little bit better. She always knew what to do and say to make everything okay. It was a gift you'd always envied and appreciated.

It was very typical of you to be the first person in the office, having been an early riser most of your life. So you were more than a little surprised when you walked into the precinct Monday morning and spotted Nick Amaro sitting at his desk.

"You're in early," you commented lightly in lieu of greeting.

He turned his gaze to look over at you and shot you a disarming smile. "I couldn't sleep, so I figured I might as well get a head start on some paperwork I've been putting off."

"Wise man. Wouldn't want to upset the boss."

He grinned. "She's strict." His voice was teasing and warm and it made you feel something in your gut you always tried to ignore.

In truth, you were extremely attracted to Nick--it was undeniable. You had not, nor would you ever, tell him or act on it. Nick was so far out of your league it wasn't even funny. Besides, he was newly single, still fresh from his divorce.

"She can be calmed with good coffee and blueberry muffins," you said conspiratorially.

Nick chuckled. "I'm gonna have to write that down."

You offered him a smile before continuing past him to your office. You were surprised when his voice stopped you after a few steps.

"How was your weekend?"

You turned back to face him. "Friday was absolute shit," you said honestly. "But I spent Saturday and part of yesterday with Liv, so it's better now."

A look of concern crossed his face. "Everything okay?"

You feigned a smile. "Everything's fine. Thanks for asking."

His eyes narrowed as he gazed at you skeptically. "Is it that guy again?"

Your cheeks darkened, embarrassed Nick even knew about your ex. "We broke up."

Nick almost looked relieved. "I would say sorry, but it wouldn't be honest. I never liked the guy--he didn't treat you right."

You were surprised he paid enough attention to the things you said to know just how badly your ex had treated you. "Oh?"

Nick stood up and took a couple steps closer to you. He was still a professional distance away, but he could speak quieter so only you could hear him.

"You deserve to be treated with respect and dignity. You're an amazing woman, (Y/N), and a good man would never treat you the way he did. He clearly didn't recognize your worth."

His words slammed into you with surprising force. "I-um-thank you," you muttered softly.

"You can thank me by dating a man who will love you the way you deserve," he said lowly. "Como una reina." [Like a queen.]

His last three words were so quiet you weren't even sure you'd heard him properly--or if you were supposed to hear them at all. You weren't fluent in Spanish by any means, but you understood the basics...enough to know he'd said something about a queen. That is, if you heard him correctly.

You were about to ask him to elaborate when Olivia came into the squad room. She sent a warm smile your way and issued greetings to both you and Nick. Her arrival broke whatever spell Nick had been under, and he went back to his desk quietly.

You went into your office, leaving the door open behind you so you could hear the goings on and the arrival of the rest of the squad. There were plenty of things for you to do, but you couldn't get Nick's words out of your head.

**********

Olivia looked up from her computer when Nick knocked on the doorframe entering her office.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked.

"Sure," she said with a smile.

He came in and quietly shut the door behind him.

"Uh-oh...closed door conversation? Everything okay?"

"With me, yes," he answered. "But I wanted to ask you something and I don't want anyone overhearing."

"Okay..."

"It's about (Y/N)."

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "What about her?"

"She mentioned she'd spent the weekend with you and she and that asshole broke up."

Olivia chuckled softly, glad to hear she wasn't the only one who hated your ex.

"I know it's not really my business, but I can tell something is really upsetting her. Hell, I've noticed a change in her since the moment they started dating--and not in a good way."

"He isn't a good person," Olivia conceded.

"Tell me about it," Nick muttered. "Anyway, I just--well, I just want to know if she's okay? I mean, really okay."

"Why don't you ask her?"

"I did, but I know she wasn't being honest with me."

Olivia sighed. She had a feeling he was asking about you for a reason, but she wasn't sure it was her place to tell him the truth. She was torn between being honest with her partner and keeping her best friend's pain to herself.

"I don't know if it's my place to tell you, but he did say some particularly cruel things about her when she broke up with him."

Nick's eyes narrowed and Olivia could see the anger flare in them. "What did he say to her?" Even his voice was laced with fury--the mere idea someone would hurt you sent him off the edge.

"I can't tell you," Olivia answered. "But if you really want to know, then I think you should talk to her. She trusts you, so she may open up to you."

Nick nodded, anger still boiling beneath the surface. "You're right--I didn't mean to intrude or anything."

Olivia shook her head. "It's alright. I know you care about her...I guess I'm just a little surprised by your anger."

He winced slightly, feeling embarrassed for his display of emotion. "I don't like the idea of some guy making her feel like shit."

"Neither do I," she said honestly. "I am curious though...what made you ask about her?"

"Wha-what do you mean?"

Olivia smiled slowly. "I mean, why do you want to know badly enough to ask me?"

Nick had a feeling Olivia could see right through him--they'd been partners for a few years after all. He wasn't sure how to answer--or if he wanted to be entirely truthful. In the end, he opted for vague honesty. "I care about her."

Olivia watched his expression in silence for a long moment before responding. "So do I."

Nick could see the meaning behind her words as clearly as if she'd spoken them aloud--don't hurt my friend. He didn't say it, but he hoped Olivia knew he would never hurt you...it would break his heart.

**********

"Hey (Y/N/N). You busy?"

You looked up to see Nick standing in your office doorway, leaning against the frame. You swallowed thickly as you pushed down the improper thoughts blazing through your mind at the sight.

"Uh--no. What's up?"

He stepped into the room, edging closer to your desk. "I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight. My treat."

You raised your eyebrows at him, unsure of the cause of his request. "Is there some sort of celebration I'm unaware of?"

He chuckled lightly. "Other than your new-found freedom, no. I just...well, I wanted to spend a little time with you. Ya know, if you want."

You bit your bottom lip as you contemplated his offer. "Well, I don't have any other plans, so why not?"

He grinned. "Excellent. Do you want time to go home first or just leave from here?"

You looked down at your outfit, suddenly feeling very frumpy and unattractive. You knew he wasn't asking you out on a date--just a friend inviting you to dinner to cheer you up. Even still, you really didn't want to go out looking like this. "Do you mind if I go home and change first?"

"Not at all. I can pick you up from your place, if you'd like?"

"Oh, uh-yeah. Sure."

He smiled again. "Perfect. 6:30?"

You nodded. "Sounds good."

You watched him walk out of your office, mind racing as you tried to figure out his motivations and what the hell you were gonna wear.

**********

By the time 6pm rolled around, you'd managed to change your clothes somewhere in the realm of 50 times, and you still weren't entirely satisfied. Even your favorite outfit didn't feel right--you could hear your ex's voice in the back of your mind telling you everything you tried on looked bad.

You dug further into your closet, looking for something simple--cover the things you wanna hide and accentuate the things you wanna show off. Your eyes fell on a beautiful black dress you'd actually never worn. You'd purchased it on a whim because you'd loved it in the store and Olivia had insisted it was too perfect to pass up on.

You pulled the dress off the hanger and put it on, pleased it still fit properly. When you turned to look in the mirror, you almost didn't recognize yourself--you actually felt pretty. The bodice of the dress was tight, but the lower half was flowy. The material was a soft, stretch satin, with a low neckline and flutter sleeves. The dress hit right above your knees and it practically screamed for a pair of heels.

You found your favorite black pumps, slipping them on and smiling at your reflection. You put on some jewelry to spice up the look, sprayed your favorite perfume, and double checked your hair and makeup one last time. You didn't wear much makeup on the daily, so you didn't go too wild with your makeup for the evening. You'd added some eyeliner and lipstick, but otherwise you looked natural. You'd actually been having a good hair day already, so you were pleased to see it was still behaving properly.

You'd just put the last finishing touches on the outfit when you heard the buzzer ring. You quickly went to answer it, and upon hearing Nick's voice, told him you'd be right down.

You took one last look in the mirror, took a deep breath, and headed downstairs feeling both excited and trepidatious. You reminded yourself once again this was just two friends having dinner--purely platonic...but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't want it to be an actual date.

Nick was waiting just outside the front entrance to your apartment building, and he turned around when he heard the door open. Nothing could have prepared you for the look on his face when he saw you.

"Santa mierda," he breathed. "You look incredible." [Holy shit.]

You blushed and looked away. "Thank you," you mumbled softly.

He stepped towards you and gently touched your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze. "You're very welcome."

He dropped his hand, but his eyes stayed fixed on your face for a long moment. "Do you like Italian?" he asked.

"Of course," you answered, silently pleased your voice sounded normal.

"Excellent." He gestured towards his car and you followed behind him. He opened the passenger door and helped you in before getting in the driver's seat.

The drive wasn't very long, and your nerves kept you quiet for most of the ride. You listened to him chatter on about nothing, simply enjoying the sound of his voice.

When you arrived at the restaurant, he once again opened your door and helped you out, but this time his hand didn't leave yours. He placed your hand through the loop he'd made with his arm and guided you to the entrance.

Once you were seated, your nerves began to ratchet up even higher. Unfortunately for you, Nick was both an extremely good detective and an annoyingly perceptive person. As such, he noticed your discomfort immediately.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you lied.

"It's just me, (Y/N/N)," he said quietly.

You exhaled slowly--realizing he was right. It was Nick for God's sake. He was your colleague, your friend. There was no reason to be nervous. "You're right."

He smiled, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. He pulled it back to his side of the table as the server arrived for your drink order.

You were grateful for the glass of wine he delivered moments later, lifting it to your lips almost immediately. You knew the liquid would calm your nerves--maybe then you wouldn't embarrass yourself.

"I'm glad you agreed to have dinner with me," Nick said softly as he sipped his own glass of wine.

"I was a little surprised, in all honesty."

"That I asked or that you agreed?" he teased lightly.

You smiled. "Definitely the former."

"I hate seeing you upset," he admitted. "I thought I might be able to cheer you up a little."

"Thanks, Nick. You're a good friend."

His face fell slightly, but he quickly hid it behind a soft smile. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Whatever he was going to ask was cut off by the arrival of the server to take your food order.

As soon as the server left the table, Nick leaned forward and lowered his voice. "What did he say to you that hurt you so much?"

"What?"

"Your ex."

Your expression shifted and you looked down at the table. "It doesn't matter."

"It does to me."

"Why?"

"Because whatever he said hurt you--and I'm willing to bet my career that he was wrong."

Your eyes snapped back up to meet his. His expression was deadly serious, yet it somehow put you at ease in a way only Nick could. "He said some unpleasant things about my physical appearance that I could have lived without hearing."

Surprise lit up his handsome face. "Unpleasant things about your appearance? I'll bet my life he was wrong."

Now it was your turn to be surprised. "I wouldn't make that bet, Nick."

"I'm confident. Tell me what he said and I'll judge for myself."

You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before giving him a quick overview. "Essentially he said I'm unattractive and fat--I recall the word 'gross' being used as well."

Nick's temper flared instantly, the urge to punch that son of a bitch in the face nearly overwhelming. "He said what?"

Even if you didn't know Nick, you would have been able to see the rage simmering in his eyes, hear it in his tone. "It's not a big deal."

"If he was here, I'd launch him through a window. Bastard."

"I'm okay," you reassured him quietly.

Your soft voice grounded him, as it so often did, and he felt his anger dissipating. He was still angry, but the urge to hunt that asshole down had begun to fade.

"He was wrong, you know."

"Huh?"

"He was wrong. Not only are you one of the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on, but your body is perfectly proportioned--deliciously soft and curvy. You're about as far from gross as a human being can be."

He spoke with such conviction, such assuredness, that you almost believed him--almost.

"While I appreciate the compliment, Nick, you've never seen me naked...your opinion would change, trust me."

Nick's eyes flared with a new kind of intensity. "I highly doubt that."

"His did," you said quietly.

"He clearly didn't know what he had."

Your eyes met his, shoulders tense, discomfort obvious in every movement you made.

"Listen to me, (Y/N). I'll say it as many times as it takes for you to believe me--I think you're gorgeous. Stunning. Elegante. Sin fin perfecta." [Elegant. Endlessly perfect.] He reached for your hand and you let him take it in his. "You are a prize, (Y/N). Any man worth a damn would be honored to call you his."

You didn't know what to say. His words surprised you and warmed your soul at the same time. You could also feel the familiar tightening in your gut, accompanied by an entire swarm of butterflies dancing in your stomach.

"Forget every terrible thing he ever said to you, hermosa. Let me fill your mind with praise. Let me remind you of your beauty, inside and out, of your brilliance, of your kindness, your empathy...of all the little things that make you the incredible woman you are."

"Nick..." you whispered, his name the only coherent thing you were able to utter.

The moment was shattered by the arrival of your food. You'd been hungry when you sat down at the table, but your body was now flooded with a very different kind of hunger--a hunger you now believed Nick shared.

"Thank you, Nick," you said softly. "I know it's not nearly enough, but thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. I meant every word."

You gave him a small smile. "Still..."

He returned the expression.

The two of you ate in silence for several minutes, minds clearly elsewhere. After a while, Nick noticed you'd done more moving the food around the plate than actually eating and he called you out on it.

"Eat your food, querida. You'll need your strength."

Your head snapped up, eyes meeting his gaze. "For what?"

He leaned forward. "If you'll let me, I'm going to spend several hours showing you exactly how sexy I think you are."

You gulped. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

He grinned wolfishly. "By worshipping that amazing body of yours...over and over again, until you're screaming my name."

You suddenly found it very difficult to breathe, let alone eat. Nick, on the other hand, went right back to eating his food as if he hadn't just threatened you with an incredibly good time.

You had to force yourself to focus on your food, desperately trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs.

As soon as the meal was over, Nick asked for the check and paid, revealing just how desperate he was to get back to your place.

Once again, he helped you into the car, only this time his hand lingered on the small of your back.

Anticipation flooded through you as Nick drove through the streets of the city. You'd wanted him for so long--never once thinking he'd reciprocate the desire. Despite his words earlier in the evening, you still felt a shred of self-doubt...worrying he might not find you as attractive once you were naked.

"Where's that pretty head at, querida?" he asked softly, noticing your anxiety.

"Can you promise me something?"

"Of course."

"If you don't want to go through with this...you know, when you see me without my clothes on...please just tell me. I don't want you to feel like you have to do something you don't wanna do."

He reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. "I don't have to promise that because I know what I want, (Y/N)...and that's you. You could be a alien underneath those clothes and I'd still want you."

You laughed lightly. "I promise I'm not an alien."

He grinned. "Then we're gonna be just fine, baby."

You closed your eyes, silently willing yourself to believe him. You trusted him with your life--something you'd never experienced with any of your past relationships. Every fiber of your being told you Nick would never hurt you on purpose--never. You just needed to trust him--let go of your pain and give in to your desires.

When you finally made it back to your apartment, Nick gave you a gentle reminder. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to, (Y/N)."

"I want to," you whispered.

He inhaled slowly and took a step towards you. "Say 'no' or 'stop' and I'll stop immediately, okay? No hard feelings--I won't push you."

"I don't want to say no, Nick."

He took another step towards you, effectively backing you against the wall. "If you wanna stop--"

"Nick, please just kiss me," you begged softly.

He groaned softly before leaning in to press his lips to yours. His kiss was like fire and ice--more addictive than any drug known to man. He kissed you like you were the air he needed to breathe--like he would rather suffocate to death than stop.

He pressed his warm body against yours, wedging his knee between your thighs to keep you from squeezing them together. His tongue tangled with yours, quickly asserting dominance as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands went to the buttons on his white button down, quickly undoing them in a desperate need to feel his skin. He helped you remove the shirt, followed by his undershirt, leaving his toned chest bare for you to see.

You bit your lip and stifled a soft groan as you appreciated his form.

"You can touch me, querida," he said softly. "I wanna feel your soft hands on my skin."

You did as he asked, hands gliding over his smooth, tan skin. He sighed softly and leaned into your touch, lips grazing your jaw affectionately.

Your hands traveled to his hips and you began to loosen his belt. He allowed you to unbutton his pants and he helped you remove them.

"I think you're a bit overdressed for the occasion, hermosa," he teased huskily.

You tensed slightly, a feeling of dread washing over you.

Of course, Nick felt it and instantly began to sooth your worries. "You can keep on as much as you want, querida, but I want to see you. I've wanted to touch you like this since the day I met you. But if you're more comfortable keeping your clothes on, that's alright."

You looked up at him, his dark eyes warm and honest. You took a deep breath and pushed him back slightly, giving yourself the room to pull your dress off over your head.

You dropped your dress to the ground, but your eyes didn't meet his gaze--you couldn't even bring yourself to look at his face, too afraid of what you might see there.

"Querida, por favor," Nick whispered. "Look at me."

You looked up at him slowly, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you took in his hungry expression.

"I wanna kiss every square inch of your beautiful body, hermosa. Will you let me?"

You nodded tentatively.

"I need to hear you say it, baby," he pleaded.

"I want you Nick, please."

He groaned and pressed his body against yours again. "Say that again, querida."

"I want you," you whispered.

"Fuck--" He slammed his lips against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth almost immediately. You melted in his arms, reveling in the feeling of his body against yours.

He finally pulled away to catch his breath, but his hands didn't leave your body. Now that he'd touched you so intimately, he never wanted to stop.

"Come with me," he whispered, before guiding you to your bedroom. "Lay down on the bed for me, querida."

You did as he asked, noticing how his eyes never left your body.

He made sure you were looking at him before he began to lower his boxer briefs, slowly revealing his large cock. He was already painfully hard, a bead of precum lingering at the tip.

You licked your lips in anticipation, an action he noticed with pride.

"Like what you see, hermosa?"

"Very much so."

He smiled and climbed onto the bed, covering your soft body with his hard one. "May I take off your bra?"

You nodded.

"Baby..." he said in a clear warning tone.

You understood his meaning instantly, a flood of arousal going straight to your core at the order. "Yes, papi."

His eyes widened for a moment, surprised and pleased at your use of the title. "Such a good girl, aren't you?"

A soft moan left your lips at the praise and he smiled to himself, pleased he was able to suss out what you liked.

His hand snaked around your back, deftly unclasping your bra with surprising ease. The moment your breasts were bared to his gaze, his mouth descended on you, taking a pert nipple into his mouth.

You moaned softly, fingers intertwining into his dark locks. His lips and hands massaged your breasts, giving them equal attention. True to his word, he moved tantalizingly slowly down your body, kissing every inch of skin he could, while avoiding where you needed him most.

By the time he made his way back up to your face, you were begging him to touch your pussy--pleading for some relief.

"Nick, please--I need you."

"What did you call me?" he asked harshly.

Your eyes widened lustfully. "I'm sorry, papi!"

He smiled, ghosting his fingers across your still-clothed pussy. "That's my good girl."

You whimpered at the feather-light touches he placed to your mound, desperate for more. "Please, papi."

"Hmm? Qué deseas?" [What do you want?]

"Please touch me," you begged.

"I am touching you, querida."

"More, papi. Please!"

He smiled. "Normally I'd take my time teasing you--making you beg for what you want...but if I'm being honest, I'm as desperate to touch you as you are to feel it, so I'll be nice to you this time."

He tugged your panties off quickly before spreading your thighs as wide as he could, revealing your dripping wet folds.

"All this for me, baby?" he growled.

"Only you, papi," you responded.

"Yeah? No one else makes you this wet?"

You shook your head vehemently. "No one else."

"Now I have one rule, hermosa. I wanna hear you--every little sound coming out of that pretty mouth. Be as loud as you want. Entiendes?" [Understand?]

"Si, papi," you whimpered.

He smirked as he lowered himself down onto the bed between your legs. His strong hands gripped your hips and he tugged you as close to his face as he could before diving into your pussy with a deep groan of pleasure.

You gasped at the sensation, the sound quickly becoming moans of enjoyment. Nick was quite skilled with his mouth--his tongue alone made you feel things you'd never before experienced.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging at the roots as you desperately sought your release.

Nick held you in place as he continued his assault on your pussy, ensuring he had complete control over your pleasure.

"Feels so good," you gasped. "Gonna cum, papi."

He groaned against your clit, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. He could feel how close you were by the way your thighs tried to close and your grip on his hair tightened.

Your moans became more desperate--needy, and he slid two fingers into your pussy, gently pressing into your g-spot rapidly.

You cried out, legs shaking slightly, seconds before your orgasm ripped through you like a tidal wave. His name left your lips in a gasped scream as he worked you through your high, only stopping when you began to squirm away.

You were completely breathless when he lifted his head, mouth and chin soaked in your juices. He licked his lips and wiped his mouth on his hand, licking it clean as he maintained eye contact with you. "You taste so good baby...I can't get enough."

You reached for him and he obliged, leaning forward to kiss you softly. You tasted yourself on his lips and tongue, a soft sound of pleasure escaping into his mouth.

"Querida," he whispered against your lips. "I need to be inside you."

"Please," you whimpered.

"Do you have protection?"

"I'm on the pill..."

"I'm clean," he assured you.

"Me too."

He lined his cock up with your entrance and looked back up at your face. "Are you sure, hermosa?"

"Si papi. I want you to fuck me."

He groaned softly before thrusting into you, sheathing himself fully inside of you in one swift movement.

You cried out, the stretch both overwhelming and extremely pleasurable all at once. You clutched his neck and he breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart.

"You can move," you whispered.

"Not yet, querida. I need a moment."

"Are you okay?" you asked in concern.

"Your pussy feels so damn incredible, baby...I'm just trying to control myself so I don't hurt you."

You bit your lip and lifted his face up to look at you. "I like a little bit of pain, papi." You clenched your pussy tightly for emphasis.

"Mierda," he ground out. "You sure?"

"Fuck me senseless, Nick. Por favor."

As much as he loved you calling him 'papi', hearing you say his name like that made him feral. He pulled out and thrust back in harshly, starting a fast, hard pace.

"Baby, say my name again," he begged.

"Nick," you moaned lowly.

"Fuck." He was fucking you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do and you'd never experienced anything like it.

You felt the coil tightening in your abdomen, and for the first time in your life, you knew you were going to cum during penetration. Your moans were loud enough to wake the neighbors, your nails dug into his muscular back, and your pussy had his cock in a vice grip.

"You gonna cum for me, (Y/N)?"

You nodded rapidly, unable to voice a response. The only thing coming out of your mouth was a string of incoherent moans and pleas.

"I wanna feel you cum, baby. Cubre mi polla." [Coat my cock.]

"Nick!" you whined.

"What do you need, querida? Tell me."

"More," you whimpered.

He slipped his hand between your bodies and began to gently massage your clit. "This what you need, baby?"

"Nick!" you screamed. "Don't stop!"

"That's it, baby. That's it. I've got you. Cum for me, querida. Ven por mí." [Come for me.]

You cried out in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure overwhelmed your senses. You clung to him desperately, as if he was a life raft while you were adrift in the ocean.

He began to chase his own high as you came down, your awareness coming back to you. His thrusts were fast and rough, his breathing ragged.

"I want you to cum for me, papi. Fill me up," you begged.

"Dios mio! You feel so good, baby. Wanna cum for you."

You clenched your pussy as tightly as you could, desperate for him to enjoy this as much as you did.

"(Y/N)!" he cried out as he came, his hot seed filling you up.

His thrusts slowed and faltered before he finally collapsed on top of you, breathless and satiated.

You held him close, running your fingers through his hair as he caught his breath. You were a little worried he would regret this now that it was over, but your fears were assuaged the moment he lifted his head to look at you.

His beautiful brown eyes were warm and loving as he gazed at you, happiness and contentment clear in his expression. "That was incredible," he murmured softly.

You blushed slightly. "You were incredible."

"As were you, querida."

He pressed his lips to yours as he pulled himself up. He rolled onto his side and pulled you with him, so your head rested against his chest.

"I'm thinking we take a power nap, then we go for round two," Nick said softly.

"Round two?!"

He grinned. "I did promise you I was gonna worship this sexy body of yours for hours."

"I didn't think you were serious, Nick," you said with a chuckle.

"Oh, baby, I'm always serious about worshipping you. I think you'll learn that very quickly."

You smiled and kissed his chest softly. You debated whether you wanted to voice the question that popped into your head, but once again, Nick beat you to it.

"You know this isn't a one time thing, right?" Nick asked gently. "I mean, unless you want it to be."

You looked up at him, expression soft and affectionate. "I was actually just going to ask you that."

He grinned. "So...you saying you might wanna see me again?"

"I see you every day, Nick," you teased.

"I mean like this, hermosa. Naked in your bed, making you scream my name, giving you as much pleasure as your pretty little body will take."

Your breath hitched in your chest, giving away just how badly you wanted that. "That too."

He chuckled and kissed the top of your head. "If I'm lucky, you'll let me take you out more too. Dinner, dancing, walks in the park, musicals...whatever you want. Wherever you go, I want to be there too."

Your eyes widened in surprise and tears filled them. You'd never had someone speak to you the way Nick did, let alone want to be with you in the way he just described.

"Querida," he whispered as he wiped your eyes. "Don't cry."

"Tears of joy," you assured him. "I promise."

His expression warmed, filling with the love and admiration he clearly felt for you. "So you'll be mine then? Exclusively?"

Your lips parted and you smiled. "I would love that."

He smiled back. "Thank god...because whether you knew it or not, I've been yours exclusively for the past year."

"What?"

He blushed slightly. "I...well I've wanted to be with you since my marriage fell apart, but I didn't want you to think you were some kind of rebound, so I kept myself professional. It's gotten harder and harder to do and then seeing you dating someone who treated you so terribly knowing full-well I would die for you made it nearly impossible."

"I didn't know," you whispered.

"I went to great lengths to make sure of that," Nick said softly. "But now that I have you? Now that I know what it's like to touch you, hold you, kiss you, make love to you? Baby, I can't walk away. You're stuck with me."

You pulled yourself up into a sitting position, straddling his strong body. You leaned down to kiss him softly, pouring all of your emotion into the kiss. "There's no one I'd rather be stuck with, Nick Amaro," you whispered against his lips.

He grinned and wrapped his arms around you, kissing you with as much passion as he could muster. He was determined to spend every minute of the rest of his life making sure you knew how incredible you were, how much he appreciated you, and how madly in love with you he would always be.

[princeoftheeternalbog]

Nicknames/petnames op characters like to call you PART TWO

Also suggestive warning for Ace, Marco, Izou

I don't care if law's is ooc btw he deserves to be sickly cute sometimes and yk we kinda saw how he can be when he loves something with that whole sora thing in wano so yeah I'm saying he can be affectionate as a treat.

Anyways here's like all the faves who are not strawhats:

Ace

Baby, sweetheart, pretty thing. Always says them in either the most flirty tone imaginable or the softest. Also he's like flirting with you 24/7 it's so bad but he jist can't turn it off around you like he's so down bad. 100% says heinous filthy shit but tacks on a cute nickname at the end to try and make it sound less intense. It does not work.

OBSESSED with you calling him love or my man and finds it ridiculously attractive. The first time it happened he set his bed on fire by accident and you both got lectured by pops :(. But seriously he just loves any and all verbal affirmation so naturally he adores nicknames. Doesn't get shy at all though, if anything reciprocating his chaotic behaviour makes it 10x worse.

Marco

Love/my love. Sweet and simple and he likes how clear it is to other people. He uses it a ridiculous amount though to be honest like you hear it more than your own name, it's to the point where if he says your name people on the ship don't know who he's talking about😭. Oh and he uses baby when he wants to tease you, like he drops his voice real low, leans really close into your space and speaks right next to your ear. Bit of a bastard tbh.

He blushes easily but doesn't shy away, in fact being called a nickname in return really makes him feel confident and puts him in the mood for affection. Though sometimes the nicknames make him feel...too affectionate. One time you called him pretty bird as a joke and he just sorta sat there, face getting gradually redder until you leaned towards him out of concern, at which point he promptly yanked you onto his lap and started what was one of your most intense make outs to date. Yk, casual things.

Thatch

Cutie, sweet thing, pretty thing. So so gentle with you and it reflects in how he speaks to you as well, even if he's upset or angry he still calls you the sweetest things because you're so precious to him. Though he's also a menace, if he finds out you like a specific petname then he starts discretely whispering it in your ear whenever he passes you to wind you up. Literally he doesn't care if you're having a serious conversation, he'll just slide in behind you and drop his voice to sound like a nice gravelly tone and purposefully make sure to exhale on the back of your ear to make you shiver.

Oh but he can't handle if you do it back, no this man folds like a lawn chair the second you start calling him anything other than his name.

Izou

Darling, dear, lovely, blossom. So casually smooth its unbelievable, also he starts calling you them before you get together. Like after a certain point of friendship and flirting, he just starts doing and saying the most romantic shit(Definitely thinks you're together before you actually are) and the crew are very confused and you're very confused but as if you're gonna complain yk.

This man gets so flustered when you use nicknames with him because it's not behaviour he's used to. Obviously he's been a pirate for a long time but he's actually very reserved and rarely dates so having someone who genuinely cares about him calling something sweet makes him blush so hard and you use that to your fully advantage. He gets revenge later though don't worry.

Law

Love, lovely, pretty, honey, every flowery pet name you can think of. He's so soft with you. He can't help how sickly affectionate he feels around you and it results in him just calling you all sorts of sweet words. He won't do it in public if he thinks you'll be put in danger or if he doesn't feel comfortable but like in front of the crew and strawhats and stuff he doesn't give a fuck. He'll just come up behind you while you're in the middle of a conversation, hand sliding down your lower back, and say sumthin like "are you okay my love?"

Blushes to high heaven if you call him something cute back, he just melts like butter. If he's in a bad mood or like in an argument or something you only have to come up and say hi love and he's all :///))

Kidd

Babe to the public. My love, gorgeous, pretty baby when you're alone. It's not really that he doesn't want to call you those things in public, he just doesn't want enemies to understand how important you are to him but also he doesn't want to keep your relationship a secret because he's obsessed with you and wants to brag about being yours.

Makes him really cocky if you use petnames with him. Like he'll flush but get so overconfident the second you say love or baby or anything of the sort. He doesn't care where you are either, he's just hauling you into his space immediately so he kiss the fuck out of you.

[allwormdiet]

Worm Cast Impressions (Arcs 1 to 7)

Easy money says some of these characters are about to fucking die so I'm pausing now to jot down my impressions of everybody who's managed to make an impact (and one or two characters whose lack of impact is kind of impressive)

Undersiders

Taylor Hebert: Character of all time. Simultaneously sanest and least sane person in the entire universe. Deeply concerned about keeping hold of her moral core, constantly innovating in ways to inflict violence on her enemies real and imagined. Has never fully finished thinking her actions through once in her entire life, people keep thinking she's the most cautious girl they know. Her first kiss was partly because she liked the boy and partly because she wanted to piss off her bully. I am cheering for her more often than not and I am so scared of what this story is going to do to her.

Brian Laborn: I want to study him in a lab. Team leader entirely by default, as near as I can tell. Hates using violence as a means of control, really good at using violence as a means of control, seems to default to using violence as a means of control when he's upset. I don't think he's normal about women. Desperately trying to be so so so boring, thinks he's perfectly rational even though he is just as unhinged as his teammates, I suspect that he has built a mental prison with twenty layers of protection around all thoughts that would suggest he is anything other than Normal and Strong and Reliable. Maybe turned on by efficient displays of violence?

Lisa Wilbourn: She is so charming and I am so scared of what's actually going on in her head. I think Taylor's best friend but definitely her biggest enabler. Stop lying and let me know what is going on in your head, I know more about Alec and Rachel than I know about you. Concerned that she's only nominally concerned about Coil being a heinous fucker. Desperately hoping the air can be cleared so I stop worrying about whether she's going to destroy Taylor or something. She has to know Taylor is a wannabe hero.

Alec: The fact that he's really only done one thing that I consider morally in the wrong is kind of incredible when looking at the fact that he's a recovering sex cult enforcer who started living something approaching a normal human life as a homeless preteen. He's had three years to jury rig a sense of humanity and morality mostly on his own and the end result is a selfish lazy jerk, and yet the fact that this is what he's managed to come up with on his own is, without sarcasm, worthy of a fucking prize. He's actually really good at this all things considered. Actually a little bummed that he didn't oppose Coil for the whole Dinah creepfest.

Rachel Lindt: Rachel Lindt is maybe the best character so far. Autistic dog girl who only tolerates human society so she can better feed and care for her animals. I'd say something like "I'd kill for her" but there's no way I could do that any better than her dogs and she'd call me stupid. Only thing against her at this point is the slur usage, which is rough to deal with, but I suspect part of that is just being written in 2011.

Loved Ones

Danny Hebert: You sad bastard. Please survive long enough to reconcile with your daughter. I know he can't provide any material support for the problems his daughter has been dealing with, that the bullies are too well-protected and there's basically nothing that he can do about parahuman shit, but I wish she would allow him to be there for her. Maybe he'd be uncool about it, sure, but maybe not. Makes me sad to think about.

Aisha Laborn: This girl is in dire need of someone to have her back and also, like, pay attention to her; Brian is the closest one to actually doing it but I don't think his best efforts are enough. I know she's gonna be an Undersider in the future so hopefully I get to have a more thorough impression of her, and one that's not marred by the fucking Mercedes metaphor, Jesus Christ that was a rough passage to get through.

Protectorate

Armsmaster: I'd probably like him more if he wasn't so up his own ass about being in charge and earning glory. My suspicion is that he's basically a good guy with some bad habits that nobody can check him on, which has spiraled out of control. Might unironically consider a teenage criminal his nemesis, which is funny but not a great sign of his priorities.

Miss Militia: My prior complaints about her possibly inappropriate response to holding Regent hostage are entirely subsumed by the fact that the last twenty-six years of her life have been lived on terms set by the Protectorate. She was nearly devoured by the machinery of empire and now she's become a component of empire that feeds upon others, and she hasn't even realized it. She never had a goddamn chance.

Velocity: Nothing to really say about him, except there has to have been a way to design his costume so that a teenager with unaugmented strength couldn't take him out with a single blow to the testicles.

Assault and Battery: The name theming feels a bit weird (what, if they got a third would their name be Coercion?) but whatever. I like the idea of a duo with complementary powers, I guess, but there's not really much else here.

Dragon: On the one hand she's in charge of the Birdcage and is friends with Armsmaster, but on the other hand she clearly hates the Birdcage for what it's made her complicit in, and maybe Armsmaster is good to have as a friend. Jury's out, unlike on Canary.

Wards

Gallant: The best way I can think to describe this guy is "blandly nice." It's like if "inoffensive" could be a personality trait. Glory Girl could do better than him, probably, but to be fair she could also do a lot worse.

Clockblocker: I think he's the funny one? Or at least the deliberately unserious one, which is the same thing. The first character confirmed to have developed entomophobia as a result of Skitter, probably not the last. Stopped a bomb from destroying the East Coast which feels like it should get more attention.

Vista: World's most powerful thirteen-year-old. Who deployed her to stop that bomb and fight those Nazis. I want names.

Kid Win: No sense of proportion on this kid, my god. Shooting a laser cannon meant to deal with threats that are theoretically rated higher than Lung into a bank filled with hostages? He's lucky nobody died.

Shadow Stalker: What the actual fuck is going on with her. Who hunts other human beings with broadhead arrows? That's for making someone bleed to death. If she was doing it to the fucking Nazis then that'd be fine, but no, it's Grue and Taylor we've either seen or heard about her getting rough with. Either the Protectorate knows she's a maniac and is letting it rock until she gets herself caught, or else they don't realize what she's doing in which case someone is not doing their job.

Browbeat: Absolute nonentity, to the point it's almost distracting. The description of the bank fight suggests he lost to Regent, which I think means that Regent got close enough to a guy with super strength to knock him out with a taser and didn't get his block knocked off. No wonder the Protectorate wants to trade him out, dude's got nothing going on.

PRT

Director Piggot: I don't like the organization she works for, because the vibes beyond the city level feel rancid, but for Piggot I mostly just sympathize with her. She's trying to corral a bunch of teenagers and adults, who all have some kind of horrific trauma shaping them and also giving them powers that are baseline as dangerous as a fucking gun, into something resembling a fully effective government agency, with no signs of support from the other cities or the higher-ups despite the fact that the literal fucking Nazis have her heroes outnumbered and have apparently had it that way for decades. Let this woman take a vacation or something.

New Wave

Glory Girl: Absolute nerd who seems to love being a superhero, and also making Nazis ragdoll in her spare time. I'd love to end it there, but unfortunately she's got some bad habits; girl desperately needs to kill the cop in her brain and get her impulsiveness under control, the fact that she ragdolled the Nazi on accident and threatened to pull favors in the judicial system to send a first-time offender (and Tattletale) into the Birdcage don't reflect great on her ability to keep a lock on things in high-stress situations.

Panacea: Pathetic girl who is clearly sitting on a pressure cooker of issues. I know what those all are but I'm not going to comment on any of it until we're actually there. For now it's mostly just a pity thing.

Azn Bad Boys

Lung: I was harsh on his characterization at first but I'll admit with time and context I'm not nearly as quick about that. He definitely still sucks, the guy literally murders his lieutenant as a matter of bruised pride and making his life more convenient. Also still cannot shake the feeling that he was basically idling in Brockton Bay for most of his career with the kind of power he has on tap.

Bakuda: She's a monster, but that also kind of oversimplifies things. She's clever, arrogant, grandstanding, and gleefully violent, even as she has the capacity to admire the architecture that another Tinker has crafted and to treat Lung as something resembling a friend. I don't think there's a world where she triggers and is, like, a good person, but I think this was one of the worse lives she could have wound up living. Also, y'know, she's dead.

Empire Eighty-Eight

Kaiser: Rancid smug piece of Nazi shit. Stupid too btw, why are you bothering with street-level robberies and extortion when you own a fucking pharmaceutical corporation? Why are you fighting out in the streets and meeting with other Nazi capes when you could be acting through proxies and bankrolling far-right parahuman cells across the country? Like I'm glad he isn't smart enough to think like that but fuck me.

Purity: Like, actually for real dumb as a bag of hammers. Kaiser barely has to try to wrap her back around his finger and she divorced him; Tattletale barely has to try to get her to back down and she thinks Tattletale exposed her identity to the public. Truly nothing in that skull of hers.

Hookwolf: Nazi capes fuck off

Stormtiger: Nazi capes fuck off

Cricket: Nazi capes fuck off

Rune: Nazi capes fuck off

Night: Nazi capes fuck off

Fog: Nazi capes fuck off

Wait does Coil's gang genuinely not have a name

Coil: Everything about this guy just pisses me the fuck off honestly. He presents himself as some kind of lesser evil, a firm but gentle hand that can guide all facets of the city to a brighter future, but he doesn't have the intelligence or vision to back any of it up; he displays nothing but brute force manipulation tactics involving bribery and blackmail, he's tunnel-visioned and cruel to the point that it ruins his own long-term plans, and before I forget everything about his thing with Dinah gives me fucking hives and I want to beat his skull in with my bare hands. I hope Taylor gets to kill him. Oh, or maybe Dinah.

Nameless sniper: Actively cooler and more competent than Coil.

Travelers

Trickster: genuinely cannot trust a man wearing a top hat in the year 2011, not even as a bit

Sundancer: what the fuck went so wrong with your life that your power is The Fucking Sun

Faultline and Co.

Faultline: Ironically not a super strong read off of her in terms of personality. Seems generally pretty cool going off of how she interacts with and leads her team. Very funny that she has a rivalry with Tattletale.

Newter: Little worried that he's selling his body secretions as a drug to other teenagers but if a parahuman only has one red flag that's pretty good actually

Gregor the Snail: This dude rocks, actually, love the vibes he gives off. Shame that people hate him for being fat and a mutant.

Labyrinth: Would like to see more of her when she's back in reality, otherwise not much to go off of. Cool power.

Other Parahumans

Scion: Fucking creepy

Marquis: probably Panacea's dad, calling that shot.

Paige McAbee: Justice For Paige McAbee.

Dinah Alcott: not really a character yet so much as a particularly horrifying MacGuffin but Jesus Christ what an awful fate

Uber and Leet: Gamers should be more oppressed. Also they beat the shit out of sex workers on a livestream and aren't considered serious enough threats to be consigned to the Birdcage, which feels pretty bad.

Heartbreaker: Haven't even met this guy and he sounds fucking awful. Please god somebody take him down.

Normal Humans

Emma Barnes: I need to understand what's wrong with her. Something happened that gave her the temperament and skillset of a CIA torture technician before freshman year of high school and she turned that onto her best friend for reasons totally unbeknownst to us.

Sophia Hess: I don't know I feel that the one bully who does the most physical harm and acts the most aggressive is the black one. Pretty bad I think. She's also clearly got something going on in her head but tbh that feels like it's going to be more straightforward than whatever is wrong with Emma.

Madison Clements: I feel like she's just here so that Taylor could be bullied without overusing the other two. What's your stake in this? Why do you give a shit? Does it matter? Probably not.

Mr. Gladly: I hated every teacher I ever knew who acted like this and I hate him even more for being utterly useless in protecting a student from blatant harassment. Fuck off.

[creature-wizard]

Something that the folks into New Age beliefs (ascension, starseeds, etc) need to understand is that conspiratorial worldviews (like the idea that there's an ancient global conspiracy manipulating everything behind the scenes) are inherently divisive. It doesn't matter how much you like the idea of peace, harmony, and unity consciousness, and it doesn't matter how much you personally try to keep your vibrations up; if you believe that everyone who disagrees with you is secretly controlled by the shadow government or whatever, you're never going to be able to maintain any kind of long-term relationship with most people, including the ones who generally share in your beliefs and values, because at some point you're going to disagree with each other on something, and when that happens, you're going to suspect each other of being government plants, controlled opposition, disinfo agents, or whatever. Conspiracy theorists are constantly accusing each other of being agents of the conspiracy.

Now like, there's a bunch of scammers in New Age communities, sure. And said scammers just make up whatever to make money. And that's bad, but that's not the same thing as being a government plant, ya know? Also, conspiratorial narratives actually benefit the scammers, because whenever anyone tries to call them out on their shit, they'll just say the government is out to get them and people will believe them.

But most of you? Most of you are just incredibly passionate people with firm convictions. You're not disagreeing because one of you is a double agent; you're disagreeing because you're people and people always have different points of view because no two people live the exact same life experience. Now sure, some of you are real dicks sometimes, and some of you get carried away by your own egos, but none of you are part of an ancient global conspiracy.

You need to understand, this conspiracy narrative does not come from good people. It comes from some of the worst, in fact. It's made from the same tropes used to justify the witch hunts and the Holocaust. Now, I know conspiracy theorists often believe that these people were actually part of the conspiracy and put this information out there in this form to throw people off the scent, but you gotta understand, there's no evidence of this, because there's no actual evidence of the conspiracy in the first place. Literally it's always been a bunch of assholes thinking of the most heinous actions they can imagine to slander those they hate and want to oppress, it's just that simple. When you adopt a conspiratorial worldview, you are internalizing this hatred and making it part of your inner matrix. Even if you're experiencing a high vibrational state 99% of the time, these beliefs - this programming - is going to affect how you perceive and respond to those who don't believe the same way as you in a very, very negative way.

[richincolor]

Interview with Seema Yasmin

We are please to have Seema Yasmin today, author of Unbecoming, a novel about the fight for body autonomy, which arrives on bookshelves on July 9th. I remember seeing Seema speak at NCTE22 when she was promoting “What the Fact?” Finding the Truth in All the Noise”, and she hinted at this book. I was so intrigued about the premise as it had only been 5 months since Roe v. Wade had been overturned and the wounds were still raw. I was so happy to get an ARC of this book and to ask Seema all about what went into bringing this moving novel to life. 

Also…slight warning as I’m going to try to do this interview without spoilers but just in case I let one slip….

K. Imani: I actually started reading Unbecoming on the day the Supreme Court ruled against a ban on mifepristone, which was a huge (albeit temporary) relief. At the beginning of Unbecoming, mifepristone has already been banned. What are your thoughts on the court’s ruling? 

Cautious relief, but greater amounts of concern. Some of the Court’s decisions have been based on fraudulent and flawed science and I worry about how this might pan out in the future. There are also the personhood laws that are disturbing and fly in the face of science. Georgia, for example, is offering $3,000 tax deductions to people who are six weeks pregnant because they count the pregnancy as a person. (This is even if the pregnancy later ends in miscarriage.) I could go on and on but we should be aware that the overturning of Roe v. Wade was just the beginning.

K. Imani: No lie, the world that you created for Laylah and Noor was terrifying but also could be our very near future. How did you approach creating this world and how did you practice self-care while writing it? 

It is our present in so many ways. At least six things I wrote in the novel have already come true, including the attack against IVF, the inability of doctors to provide emergency abortions in some states, criminalization of those helping a person get an abortion, and the fact that the overturning of Roe v. Wade led to the proliferation of state laws banning abortion. The novel mentions that Texas is soon to make abortion a criminal act punishable by the death penalty. Just a few weeks ago, we learned that the Texas GOP has just this punishment in mind.

I began to write the novel in 2019, three years before the Supreme Court would overturn Roe v. Wade.  But it wasn’t difficult to imagine the world of Unbecoming. Margaret Atwood famously said the heinous acts of torture against women in The Handmaid’s Tale were inspired by real life. Every sadistic punishment, from forced births to mandated monthly pregnancy tests, had been invented by politicians somewhere. Someone on Twitter asked her: :How do you come up with this shit?” Atwood’s response: “As if I invented it.”

It was easy for me to imagine a dystopian, post-Roe America. Inspired by Atwood, I looked to countries where abortion was banned to learn how desperate people act in desperate times. And I looked closer to home, to Texas, the most dangerous state in America to be pregnant, a state in which I had worked as a science journalist covering abortion. I sought inspiration from other states with abortion laws so restrictive they might as well have enacted bans.

I remain hopeful because of community organizers and movement lawyers; and my friends, many of them poets and artists who remind me a different world is possible. That better future begins in our imaginations. That’s why I write fiction. 

K. Imani: You have an impressive resume of non-fiction books published, but Unbecoming is your first fiction book. How was the writing process different for this novel versus your other books?

It wasn’t that different! I did a lot of research, took a lot of notes, wrote by the seat of my pants and then started to outline when I hit roadblocks. So, pretty much how I write non-fiction!

K. Imani: Throughout the novel Laylah and Noor are writing a guide for teens and comment many times on their research. What type of research did you have to do, if any, for this novel?

Yes, the novel contains a self-help guide! I talked to activists and asked them to imagine what they would be doing if they were teens. I looked into how younger people were organizing since they are not the apathetic monolith that people claim them to be. And I imagined what I might do if I were a student journalist, like Noor, who was stuck in a world where agency and autonomy were being ripped away from people with uteruses, and where young people felt powerless and voiceless.

K. Imani:  What are you hoping teens come away with after reading your novel?

Hundreds of thousands of teens become pregnant each year in the U.S. By some estimates, the number is close to 700,000. I want pregnancy, abortion and abortion care to be part of our stories since they are part of our lives. I want Laylah and Noor’s story to disrupt perceptions of Muslim teens, of queer teens, of Texans, of religious leaders, of politicians, even! Laylah and Noor learn some lessons during the course of the week in which this novel takes place: chief among them are that you have to turn up as your whole, messy self in order for your friends to fully love you and be able to support you; and while you’re worrying about how others might perceive or misperceive you, you might be misperceiving them.

K. Imani:  What was the hardest scene or chapter to write? 

There’s a part where Noor has to make a decision: does she save Laylah or does she save her friendship with Laylah? I won’t say which way she goes, but it was hard—and fun—to write about this friendship dilemma. She feels stuck between a rock and a hard place, and whether we’ve supported a friend through pregnancy and abortion, or not, we can all relate to that.

K. Imani: Can you share what you are writing right now? 

I’m writing a novel about a teenaged girl, climate change and mental health. And I’m working on a middle grade series called Muslim Mavericks which will be published by Simon and Schuster in the next year or so.

Thank you Seema for sharing with us all about the novel and your writing process. I really enjoyed the novel so look for more in my review of the novel in July.

 Pre-order Unbecoming today so you can have it in your hands on July 9th.  https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Unbecoming/Seema-Yasmin/9781665938440

__________________________________________________________

DR. SEEMA YASMIN is an Emmy Award–winning journalist who was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize, medical doctor, professor, and poet. She attended medical school at Cambridge University and worked as a disease detective for the US federal government’s Epidemic Intelligence Service. She currently teaches storytelling at Stanford University School of Medicine, and is a regular contributor to CNN, Self, and Scientific American, among others. Her other books include What the Fact?: Finding the Truth in All the Noise, The ABCs of Queer History, If God Is A Virus, Viral BS: Medical Myths and Why We Fall for Them, Djinnology: An Illuminated Compendium of Spirits and Stories from the Muslim World, Muslim Women Are Everything: Stereotype-Shattering Stories of Courage, and The Impatient Dr. Lange: One Man’s Fight to End the Global HIV Epidemic. 

[mydysfunctionalvampirefamily]

Yay 3 hours!!

Britta. 🥺🥺🥺 I know she doesn't need it but I wish she could have had a buddy to cuddle with in the end.

I've never heard the expression "put a boot in his pooper" before, and I'm okay if I never hear it again.

Also wait Wynn was bloodbound 3 times by the end? How? How did I miss that? I'm so confused.

Tim sounds so scared of the fanfcition. 😂😂😂

Some questions are just hi here's some emotional damage. Amazing.

Lex! Stop right now! You can't make me cry in public with a Wynn analysis. "If Wynn can only protect one person it really ought to be the person who cannot protect themselves." "Paet of the point of Wynn is that she can bear burdens others can't." Like I know she can, but she shouldn't have to. I'm sending you to jail, Sir!!

Tim describing how Miles would resurrect Neil is the most Miles/Neil interaction ever.

We could have had Wynn seducing Lucinde?? Or as close as Wynn can come to that. 😩

If Miles had lost his cool with Neil in post Marcos conversation, Marcos would still be the only thing that made Miles lose control. Just saying.

Also Yes Garrett you're doing the lord's work asking violence follow up questions. Thank you!

NOOOOOOOO Joubaillerre (I know it isn't written like this, but this is punishment for all involved) why did you betray us so?

God a Johnny survivor guilt fic??? Just him until Wynn notices and makes him talk about it. We need that.

I'm sorry, because I get the feeling Tim is scared of fanfcition, but all I am hearing is that he just made his dark academia Ventrue AU setting and he has to start writing in it!

You're not going to make me care and feel soft and squishy about Jan and Miles. Jan being the parent he never had. 😭

The Neil in the corner being the fact that his sire is watching him makes sense. I don't know what I expected. 😂

Noooooooo not his sire! I know it's not even happening, but fuck Neil's sire coming back in his body?!?!

I know Rob ignored you, but I heard your "Like you would have hated riding around on her back." Erika, and I appreciate you.

I am going to add "Drooling in you pants" to phrases I never heard before and don't need to hear again.

Fester answers! Awwwww I want to hug him. 😭

I'm glad they were all so supportive of Rebecca in those scenes with Pendragon. But I cannot imagine having to role play while someone at the table is hunched over yelling at you to bite your lip. 😂

So much Neil's sire details yes!!! The fact that he hunts the same way as his sire omg.

Also I know it's canon, but his name cannot be Walter. Come on!!!

Part of me still wants to write a fanfic about them, but it would just be nothing but fuckedupness. No one but me would want to read that. 😂

Tim being on board with babygirlirfication as soon as he realised that it was basically being some sort of Miles apologist. Lmao. But let's be real. Miles is baby girl, we all know it.

NOOOOOOOO. I need to fight Lex now in some kind of parking lot. 😔 Marcos is in fucking HELL???? Look what horrible stuff Johnny has done??? He tore a man's head from his neck with his teeth! And then later that day killed a guy that was barely alive just because it was convenient!?!!!! That is heinous shit!!! And this fucking man gets cobblestone and mist? But Marcos gets fucking eternal flame! A man who I might add was also tripple bloodbonded so his choices were also compromised?!? Are you kidding me???? Like tell me the worst things he has done and I will judge if it worse than Johnny's worst crimes. 😭 What did Miles make him do?????? Like it must have been so bad. You don't know how hard I have been fighting to keep him out of hell for so long and now my dreams are crushed. My poor petulant baby, roasting for eternity. I will get him out of there.

Elsa!!! 😭😭😭😭 We love you! It makes me so happy that Lex loved to play her so much, you could tell. 😍

What???!!! She's dead??? She could just be resurrected. Was that what happened before?

"that had everything to do with his humanity, even when he had lost most of his." fuck that's so powerful.

Hearing everyone compliment each other. 🥰

[poppyandzena]

Poppy has escalated this whole mess to such an absurd degree within the span of a month that I wanna to take a minute and remind everyone....

Poppy started this. She's the one who made all of the initial accusations towards Noeh, backed by nothing other than conjecture and hearsay. Despite Poppy guilting anyone who doesn't immediately and unquestioningly believe her claims (against another trans woman) for not being "real leftists", that isn't how any of this works or should work.

Sorry, but if you publicly accuse someone of heinous shit like abuse and SA, then yes - the burden of proof is on you. Expecting people to ignore this out of some duty to look like a "good leftist" is how we get situations like what happened to Kwite not so long ago. This mindset actively harms other queer people. So yes, take claims seriously but also wait for evidence and testimony from both sides.

Noeh just wanted to move the fuck along with her life after getting out of a toxic relationship. She tried to let Poppy have her little tantrum, most-likely hoping she would calm down in due time. She only began speaking up when Poppy showed no signs of stopping her increasingly slanderous hate campaign. The evidence that's been shown, even from Poppy herself, overwhelmingly supports Noeh's side of the story. That's why Poppy has to keep distorting and elevating her claims, to the point she's now full-stop accusing Noeh of rape.

Imagine you're just minding your own business and trying to move on after a bad breakup, when your jilted abusive ex decides to use their platform to defame and attack you. Just because they can, and because they want to punish you for getting away from them. Imagine being suddenly thrust into the position of having to defend yourself while your ex's sycophants come after you, demanding answers for questions asked only in bad faith.

I don't want to claim to know how Noeh must feel. I can only say how terrified and hopeless I would personally be in that situation. Not many of us have the experience or skill to perfectly defend ourselves against serious accusations (attorneys exist for a reason afterall). My heart really goes out to her and I hope the harassment she's faced ends soon. This shouldn't be happening at all.

Sadly, I don't see Poppy getting better at this point. But the less people she has who believe her bullshit, the more she'll have to shut the fuck up and leave Noeh alone. Hopefully.

It's a nightmare scenario, especially after trying to break up and Poppy AND Zena pressuring her to let them visit, begging for NF to pretend that everything was fine and being promised an out if NF decided the relationship wasn't worth it. And when NF took that out after doing what Poppy wanted in the presence of Zena, Poppy and Zena make her out to be a conniving rapist and a liar of her own sexuality. Zena planned to fly back home impromptu and leave Poppy alone with NF. Poppy even says it herself. NF didn't even want them there.

[hexfloog]

#s 1 and 20, for edward? :}c

OMG HIII FRIEND OFC OFC

since i haven't talked about him much on this blog, i'll be interjecting with basic info every now and then to make answers clearer :3

this is edward - he's a demon living in the outskirts of london in the mid-1800s or so:

old pic, i haven't drawn him in yeaarrsss ;^;

he is a fandomless oc and his 15-year anniversary was last year holy shit whaaa

1. What kind of person is your OC in a crisis? Are they calm and collected? Do they panic? Or are they chronically the cause?

i, er.......... "yes"

or D, all of the above LOL

edward has a 0-100 temperament, he's either totally unfazed or has completely gone off the deep end. the latter is relatively uncommon though, very rarely is he faced with something he perceives as a real threat, both because he benefits from his urban legend/cryptid status-- people either don't know he exists, or they're just too scared of him to fuck around and find out-- and because he's unusually careful for a demon of his caliber. he's cognizant of the fact that he's not truly immortal and that he could attract the attention of the wrong force of nature one day and eat shit.

a true panic response for edward typically manifests with a transformation* and a show of violence, but usually his size alone will ward off the threat. doesn't stop the rampaging though - if he's reached this point he's also reached a point where he's decided people will pay until he's satisfied.

*edward is able to shift between his human skin and a towering demonic form at least three times his size

20. Has your OC ever done something terrible and lied about it? Did they run away or blame someone else for it? How long did they maintain the lie and did the truth ever come out?

weirdly enough, edward's less of a boldfaced liar and more of the type to lie by omission... but only to others, not so much with himself. he's very good at twisting words and taking advantage of technicalities and semantics when making deals, but when it comes to having to remediate his own errors, he has a tendency to fumble baaad, especially when improvising lmao

even then, what he considers an "error" is a little hard to pin down. he's done plenty of heinous things, both in his current life and past life as a human, but i think he classes most "mistakes" as actions that could potentially compromise his secrecy. public attention is his achilles heel, for instance, and lying his way out of a self-inflicted scene is weirdly difficult for him. it's just hard for him to go off-script, really, and even harder to run away [skull emoji], and in situations like this, if the truth were to come out it would lead to an immediate panic response.

i guess i can think of one lie that he's maintained for most of his life. naturally, in his current state, he considers himself above anything resembling affection. human emotions suck, they're a waste of time, unfit for his elevated existence, etc. to love or truly befriend anyone would be categorically terrible to him, but... he makes room in his heart for one person only, evangeline, the first who ever showed him kindness when no-one else would. he won't admit this affection out loud, of course, and at this point his feelings for her are merely instinctual, he doesn't even consciously recognize them. but he'd have a panic response above all panic responses if anyone were to ever point it out, and while some people have come close, they've never gotten close enough to confront him about it.

easily his biggest tell is the fact that he continues to blame her death on her. he killed her himself btw

this man will literally set fire to the world instead of just admitting he loves a girl. so the lie has gone on for literal decades in-universe and has, so far, never fallen to the truth

lol look. edward is not at ALL a good person okay, not by any stretch of the imagination, but i still love him :3c

thank you for the assskkkk <3

get to know the oc ask game!

[mermaidsirennikita]

what your thoughts on title cole's hades hangman series?

My immediate thoughts are that Tillie Cole is a racist who should be actually cancelled (not the weak shit we call cancellation), as in any possible publishing career, indie or otherwise, done. Nothing. I'm honestly worried about the pen name shit I imagine she'll pull or has pulled, because I dread people buying books by her without realizing it's her after all this.

But uh.... yeah. I have zero tolerance for Nazi romances, KKK romances, any romances featuring a racist, genocidal protagonist or protagonists. And I do want to be clear--genocide is what the KKK wants in the end. As is the case for most hate groups. They may say they want people "in their proper place" or "over there instead of here" (displacement being a part of genocide) which is all heinous and unacceptable. However, the reality of the nitty gritty is that they want them eradicated, or at least eradicated from the part of the earth the genocide mongerer feels entitled to, which is most of it. The only alternative, if you could call it that, being that the racist wants the "inferior" race enslaved or subjugated for their own gain (the implicit word usually being "again"). And I think that even the "smallest" breadcrumb of racism can easily tip into these mindsets with some degree of radicalization. So yes, zero tolerance.

I often have seen the "devil's advocate" arguments from "liberals" (white feminists who want to read these books) being "but how is this any worse than books where the heroine falls for her rapist".

And here's the thing--there are a couple books I've read wherein the heroine does fall for her rapist, and I like them still. I'll be clear--these are historical old schools (as in, the 80s) which I don't think came from the perspective of say, a contemporary Sam Mariano book. (I haven't read her books, but I know they can contain this content). I have yet to read a recently published contemporary wherein the heroine falls for her rapist that works for me. I have spoken to people for whom certain books have worked, including a couple survivors.

What I think sets these books apart is that a heroine in a dark romance falling for her rapist, however fucked up and unrealistic, is based on a personal relationship between two people. It isn't about anyone the reader represents, and I don't even really think it's often about gender (though it can be, which I think is probably a line--if a hero is a serial rapist because he hates women, I don't think the reception would be the same). And let's be real here--most of the time, this does reflect real life. The vast majority of sexual assaults are the result of intimate partner violence. It is something between two people, and while I would personally never suggest anyone forgive their rapist and reconcile with them, or frankly forgive them in general... That is something where it is about the one individual and her perspective, and in a romance it follows the same mentality. I may not LIKE that book, but I do see that as a book about harm to a PERSON and within a RELATIONSHIP, which is more individualized.

A KKK hero or a Nazi hero or what have you is often paired with a woman who represents a group he hates (though in Tillie's case, the heroine is a white-passing Latina, a "cartel princess", which lol, ALSO RACIST, but I suppose her complexion is meant to create ambiguity). If he isn't, she's the white woman he is allowed to be with anyway. Either way, he hates a collective. He is enacting violence, physical or otherwise, against a collective. Even if the heroine is of the group he hates, SHE cannot validate his redemption arc~ or "forgive" him. However unrealistic the forgiveness or validation of redemption a rapist "hero" may be, that is a situation where I can say "fucked up, but her choice". This is very literally not something a single heroine can give, and even if the author came from the same marginalized group as the heroine in a genocidal hero book... that author can't speak for the collective either. (I say this because I have heard of authors writing about sexual assault and reconciliation in books state that they're survivors, and I really can't speak on how they work through that on an individual level, but I do think it's important to again note the individual.)

While sexual violence is absolutely a worldwide epidemic, it is NOT the same thing as genocide. Doesn't mean it's better or worse... Though I will say, I think the fact that sexual violence is used as a tool by genocide mongerers does speak to the fact that genocide is obviously a more existential threat, here. And I don't really care for the comparisons I've seen made between the two in discussions of this book and its place in dark romance--because they often seem to be coming from my fellow white women, and I feel there is often a "we're all women, we're in this together" mindset. When the reality is... no. First off, women aren't the only targets of sexual violence, and men are not the only people who perpetuate it. Second of all, not all women experience rape culture in the same way. Cishet white women live under the threat of rape culture, absolutely. But white women don't experience racialized predation. Nobody is trying to "convert" cishet (or simply cis) women through sexual violence. Nobody is killing cis women because they feel "tricked" by us. And for that matter, white women, especially cishet white women, can be the oppressors of women of color, queer women, trans women, and so on. They can encourage sexual violence against women with a single vote--and have. How many white women voted for Mr. "Grab 'Em By the Pussy", again?

So yeah, I don't really like the whole "well this is fine for me to read because y'all read your rape books" discussion of these books when we get into discussion, because these just are very different topics. And I don't like conflating them to either EXCUSE the violence of these books, or once again devolve into a "dark romance readers are universally dirty little perverts". Because--while there are ABSOLUTELY dark romance books that go way too far, which I wouldn't touch with a 10-foot pole... I think there's a point where a book isn't even dark romance, it's just using that as a mask to perpetuate a form of like... artistic violence against an entire group of people.

Because these genocidal hero books are about violence against the collective marginalized group being dismissed, "redeemed" or "forgiven", there's this inherent dismissal of what has happened to potential readers of these books, and I see that as a kind of casual violence. That dismissal happens every day, and it is ESPECIALLY happening right now, when so many western nations (and I'm not denying it's happening elsewhere, I'm just much more aware of the USA, Canada, and Europe) are in the midst of nationalistic far right swings. And hell, let's be real, most people of color are not reading Tillie's books on purpose, I imagine--but frankly, that doesn't matter. Tillie has, I suppose, a legal right to write these books. But I don't view them as any different from the vitriol spewed from a Westboro Baptist Church representative, or the people calling BLM protestors looters.

You just can't slide this shit into a "dark romance is gonna dark" slot, or "why do dark romance readers keep bringing this to us" whine rant. I will bet you anything that a lot of the readers who read this book and rated it a 4 or 5 on GR haven't read a single other dark romance novel in their fucking lives. They enjoyed it because they want to romanticize a guy in the KKK and act like he can be redeemed, because their sick little fantasies about their white prince proud boys are what they're looking for here. This isn't about tiptoeing to the ver edge of dark romance, this is about wanting to bathe in a racist fantasy. It's their Birth of a Nation moment, but with porn.

I mean, what has been really frustrating to me... because obviously outright racists will shamelessly defend Tillie, outright... is just this idea that this somehow has come back to a discussion of dark romance, when really, it should be a discussion of RACIST ROMANCE NOVELS. Which is something that extends faaaaaar beyond dark romance, or any subgenre. I've read a fuckton of racist contemporary romances. Obviously historicals have quite a long journey with racism in books. I've read racism in paranormals, for fuck's sake. I believe one of the big Nazi romances was an inspirational romance. To me, there's just been this dancing around admitting that this is a romance-wide issue, because people want to go "well, it's only an issue with dark romance, MYYYYY favorite romances would never" and it's like. I don't know, girl. People of color are widely underrepresented in the genre (as are queer people and trans people) so maaaaybe just maaaaybe romance isn't your perfect haven where all we need to confront is men being misogynistic. Maybe, just maaaaybe, there are other issues going on here.

[deadmegumi]

8, 10 + 2 if you're feeling heinous 😈 24 if ur not 😇

8. common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

well MY special little noble is actually the most inherently just and pure of heart and when they win the throne there will be a thousand years of peace. Wdym inherent violence of feudalism that's not real. And while there has been a downtrend in this belief throughout the last five years it HAS influenced a lot of other discource subtly... most people have realized that the way to start fixing westeros's problems is not thru a nice feudal monarch, but they dont understand that abandoning this framework for character/plot analysis also means abandoning a lot of other framework. In the arya v sansa wars people still use feudal patriarchal definitions of femininity to decide who is the Best Sexy Feminist (preteen girl). In debates about morality for certain actions people excuse things because it aligns with the feudal code of ethics- a deeply flawed and violent code. See: ned HAD to take theon hostage because well we live in a society. Like i think it's important not to hold characters to the same moral standards that we hold people in modern times to, because their circumstances are so wildly different, but we dont have to adhere to THEIR feudal values when analyzing them because its only a detriment to their characters. They live in a society but WE do not... cmon guys...

10. Worst part of fanon

no one fucking draws these characters ugly enough. Asoiaf fandom has a plague of sameface ig model syndrome and it sucks cause george puts so much distinct personality even in minor characters and then people are like hmmmmm what if they had the same button nose and good chin that everyone else has. Brienne is ugly let her be ugly!!! Arya and jon have long plain faces u dont have to draw the teen/preteen kids as super defined and striking! Let the kids look like kids. I don't care how beautiful dany is let her be a 15 yr old. OR the instinct to make everyone best friends forever and soften the complicated dynamics btwn these characters. like modern aus where the starks are the benevolent rich people who adopted theon from his abusive trailer park family grind my gears like hes a child hostage from a powerful noble house and u cant erase such a defining part of his character bc you want everyone to be nice to each other. Also related to this is people making jaime nice/acting like asos was a redemption arc or that he didnt commit some uniquely horrific acts in agot/acok. His actions thru out the last two books are not the acts of a changed man they are the acts of a man who realized he can make choices based on empathy and reason not instinct. LAST thing which is something i dont reaaaaally see here much but i know the cunts on ao3 are doing it: the post canon thing where people want brienne and jaime to get married and have twelve kids. Fuck you eat shit and die brienne is not an incubator especially not for that lannister SLAG

2. a compelling argument for why your fave would never top or bottom

cersei is not necessarily my fave but shes a character whose sexuality i often think of. In canon the only time she's had sex with a woman she's topped and every time she fucks a dude she's disassociating so hard shes on another planet. Even when fucking jaime shes like imagining herself in his body fucking him in her body. In the bulldyke cersei universe he's stone. The pants stay on during sex and so does the shirt and probably also the shoes. Cis gay guy cersei universe he already thinks being gay is emasculating enough so obviously he's not going to let anyone penetrate him. Transmasc bi universe its like you've never been strapped until you've been strapped by a dude who's never cum once in his whole life. THANK YOU!

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

"Daenerys is basically george bush because she uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh well its a post 9/11 metaphor and uhhh well astapor is basically iraq and uhhhhh nuclear arms" "dany has never done anything wrong in her life and criticizing her means uhhhhh you hate women and abuse victims" "dany is a RAPIST and a RACIST and wants ALL BROWN PEOPLE TO BE SUBSERVIENT TO HER" "mirri maz duur deserved to die horribly for killing (checks notes) her enslaver" "dany is a colonizer (that's not what that word means. you need to look up what that word means)" brothers. Lets all link arms and kill ourselves

Jesus Christ this is long as hell. Sorry I got a lot of beef

[warcats-cat]

self-ship/OC asks for whichever pairing's been stuck in your head the most lately!

5, 6, 7, 12, 13, and 19 (or as many/few as you'd like to answer)

Ahh I set myself up for this one didn't I? 😅😅

So in my defense, my anime boyfriends rn are Dirk Strider and Jake English from homestuck, but at this point their character traits in my mind are like six or seven degrees removed from canon, mostly influenced from the parts of fanon that I interacted with back in 2015 in the height of my homestuck era (tm)

And I'm a little starved for affection lately so I just like to imagine my giant teddy bear is a person I can snuggle with without the pressure of a sexual relationship because I'm asexual which is also probably why I think I might be poly too?

5. Who curses, and who reprimands the other for it?

We all curse, but Jake does it in his weird ass fake British work around way and pretends to be morally superior about it but we all know at the end of the day he's just as bad as the two of us. (Fun fact for lent this year my whole family gave up swearing for lent and agreed to put 50¢ in a jar every time one slipped and we raised about $60 between us all because traffic in Cincinnati is terrible.)

7. Who makes the other laugh more?

I feel like I'd be the one making them laugh, just because I've had a lot of people tell me I'm a very dramatic and emotive story teller, especially when I'm angry about something and it's been stewing for a few hours. (Any time a customer at work does something especially heinous, I get home and just *rant* like I'm on an episode of the office because it really helps get the bad energy out.)

12. Who's more protective?

As with real life I am all talk big threat but when the chips are down I'll probably be in a corner somewhere crying my eyes out because someone yelled at me, HOWEVER if someone is mean to any of my loved ones I get very nasty.

I'm kind of a Chihuahua.

Meanwhile Dirk has katanas and swordfighting and takes no shit. And Jake has guns out the ass. So who knows how that would go 😅...

19. Who's the better dancer?

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

((also sorry X-man Friend I didn't have good answers for the others...))

[c0rpseductor]

i also hate how like shipcourse is such an ugly stupid thing with so many people really dedicated to saying the most heinous shit imaginable that even seeing it mentioned in a lot of cases has become a bona fide trigger for me bc it just brings back all the OTHER times i've seen people say horrific, offensive shit about abuse and be extremely flippant and insensitive about real things that happen to people and the times ive had episodes because of that. to the point where i see it spoken about and my heart rate spikes because like, ptsd is irrational and infuriating. like i hate that this is the state of things online because nobody can like, be a conscientious adult

[laughing-drawing-aces]

I think what gets me the most about the whole R*nance thing is that mostly Nancy stans proclaim Steve would be 100% fine, plan their wedding and if not he's a bad friend for apparently not wanting Robin to be happy. Like idk if those people have best friends themselves, but would you not feel fucking betrayed if your bff would date your ex? Especially when they know you still have some feelings for them? It's just so fucked honestly. Also them saying Nancy is the only person who would get Robin, like Steve literally doesn't exist. You want Nancy to date Steve's bff, you can't complain that he's there or that maybe some complications would arise with this relationship. It's like they don't consider other ppl, like R*nance is so removed from the narrative in order to truly work. Because like in real life people and situations would influence the relationship. And again Robin would never risk her relationship with Steve, he is her number one person, Nancy will never get to this level. Robin trying to look out for Steve and taking his feelings into account is literally a normal thing bff should do. And that's also not making the relationship about a man, like Robin and Steve come in pairs, they are a package deal. Nancy and Robin only know each other through Steve, they only talk because of Steve and the UD.

oh my god SAME!!! like it pisses me off how so many people just expect steve to be okay and feel 100% happy about all of this. it’s like so you want people to not have emotions? cuz it just sounds like no one is allowed to have emotions with these people. and they’ll immediately see steve as the bad guy if he has some negative feelings around his bestie dating his ex - like huh what? they would absolutely feel betrayed i guarantee you.

i never knew they said that about nancy is the only one who would get robin WHICH CANON DIRECTLY SHOWS THAT NANCY DOESNT UNDERSTAND ROBIN AT ALL!!!! like that just gets me sooo fucking pissed off. literally about all of that like people want his bestie to date his ex and then have the nerve to be like ‘well okay but you need to stop having him in this equation’ HES IN THIS EQUATION BECAUSE HE IS ROBIN’S FRIEND - PLATONIC SOULMATE - THE ONE WHO SHE WANTS TO COMBINE WITH!!! like just the audacity of saying this as if robin would just forget the feelings of someone that completely and wholly understands her.

oh my god you’re soo right! like r/nance does feel so removed like idk i’ve tried to see them working out (even removing steve from the equation) and i just cannot see any way that those two would actually be happy as couple together. it just - they’re personalities do not work (at least to me)

yep like it’s a normal and considerate thing to do yet so many people are acting like it’s heinous or some shit. like i get not jeopardizing your happiness for a friendship and if one of your friends has a problem with someone you don’t have to immediately hate that person. with this though there’s sooo much more with that because 1. nancy literally has a boyfriend rn 2. robin herself was making comments about stancy this season that seemed encouraging for them to get together so she saw steve have feelings for nancy and then had to comfort him at the end. so with these two things as evidence i genuinely don’t see how robin would even want to try to get with nancy. also like i even have a hard time imagining robin coming out to nancy - i can just see her be so paranoid about it so i have an even harder time imagining her being able to stay in a romance with nancy.

literally preach!! steve and robin are a package deal which is very clear in fucking canon. and yep nancy and robin only know each other because of the ud and steve!!!