#the typos all in this! ahhhh

[motherforthefamicom]

happy 35th anniversary mother 1!!!!!! love this game 2 death <3

[favorite-lie]

WE FUNDED OUR MAIN GOAL SO QUICKLY THANK YOU EVERYONE SO SO MUCH

I WILL GET TO EVERYONE'S COMMISSIONS TOMORROW AND WILL BE WORKING ON THEM THE WHOLE WEEK OR MORE

THANK YOU EVERYONE SO MUCH!!!

HOWEVER COMMISSIONS WILL STILL BE OPENED DUE TO REASONS STATED ABOVE

[fobosfear]

not me realising after a month I made a fucking typo in Trazyn's name on that sketch 😭 will I ever recover

[webshootersandwingdings]

I just read the Kree/Skrull War comics for the first time and I am shocked to learn that was the only interaction between Mar Vell & Princess Anelle … because they BARELY interacted!! To the point where I was confused af that Mar Vell’s last thought before saving Rick Jones was of Anelle.

Bro is just a cad, let’s be real. His “undying love” for Una seems to fade every time Carol Danvers or another pretty woman pays him any attention lol

The existence of all three of his offspring is just weird ngl. Nothing unweird about any of them lmao

[laylakeating]

okay so the reason i stopped working on this set a couple of months ago is bc it was making me too depressed shjshjshsjhsj

[just-some-random-blogger]

Curse Of Womanhood

Daemon's Version

It's simple really. Your husband wronged a witch and insulted her womanhood, and now he was cursed to bleed every moon with you.

Daemon Targaryen x Reader | 2k+ | cw: fem!reader, cursed fem!daemon, mentions of miscarriage/menstruation, men being men/misogyny/objectifying, Otto 'that's kinda hot' Hightower, crack fic, i hate my husband club member!reader, typos, etc.

A/N: my brain is fried so have some fried rice aka this fic. also idk at what time this would be set in canon so were just going to roll with it ok? ok.

Tagging: @pinksirensong @aralezinspace @sloanexx @delicious-xx @deniixlovezelda @targaryenmoony @risefallrise @slavyanskiyahui @thebullship @sa3losa

The scream that left my mouth was immediately muffled by a hand covering it and what I recognized to be a string of High Valyrian curses.

My eyes widened as I looked at the woman. Her brows were furrowed, her jaw was clenched, her hair was undone, and she was clad in nothing but a loose dress shirt.

"It's me!" she whisper-yells, "you have to help me."

I yank her hand away and we begin to wrestle on the sheets. Her silver hair flies around, her bare thighs clash against mine. We struggle against each other for a moment, but I eventually manage to overpower her and subdue her by pushing her on her belly, ripping her arms behind her back.

I blow hair out of my face, "you ought to know I wrestle with my husband all the time."

"I am your husband!"

I scoff and scowl, "ahhhh. So this is his fucking idea. He sent a whore to keep me company while he's away."

The woman screams my name and demands to be released.

She whimpers when I pull her arms back forcefully, "watch your tongue, wench. My title is princess."

"Look at my scars!" she strangles out with a pained voice, "it's the same fucking scars I had as a man. Take my shirt off and-"

"Shut up!" I raise my brows in revulsion and disbelief, "GUARDS!"

She begins to sputter High Valyrian again and it makes me turn to her. I pull tight at her arms and she whines; her eyes begin to water.

"I took your maidenhead in your childhood bedroom!" she muffles against the sheets.

My jaw drops. I am mortified.

"I marked your neck so that your father would give you to me!" she cries.

My stomach churns.

"You told me to bring you back a sword when I returned!" she hisses, "and I said I'd stuff my sword down your throat if you touched yourself while I was away."

I gasp and release her when she says this.

She groans and slowly unravels her arms, "fucking bitch."

I crawl back and watch the woman sit up. Her violet eyes were glassy as she rubs her arms. I stared at her, examining the lines on her face, the curve of her nose, the cut of her cheeks. My face begins to twist, "who are you?"

She ceases rubbing her arms when she turns to me. My stomach drops. I knew those eyes.

She suddenly lunges at me, shoving me down on the bed. She shoves herself between my legs and pushes me down. She pins my hands together overhead with one hand. She rips my nightgown up and huffs, "I should remind you of you place, stupid girl."

My heart races at her words.

She gasps when she touches herself between her thighs. In an instant, she releases me and slowly pulls her hand up. She is mortified. Her eyes widen at the sight of red on her fingers, "I'm- I'm bleeding."

She topples back on her bum then looks down at the sheets. A blot of red was stamped beneath her, blood was dripping down her thighs.

The horrified sound she makes horrifies me as well.

"I'm bleeding!" she turns to me in panic.

I sit up and watch her cheeks get soaked in tears. I am deeply unsettled by her reaction. I mutter, "it's alright. It's normal-"

"THAT FUCKING WITCH CURSED ME INTO THIS GODFORSAKEN BODY!" she snaps, shaking her hands erratically. "I should have killed her," she sniffles roughly, "I shouldn't have spared her. She will pay for this!"

I flinch when she begins to wail and scream.

"Keep it down!" I grab her in panic.

"HOW CAN WHEN I HAVE A CUNT THAT'S BLEEDING!"

I grab her face and make her look at me, "you made no issue when my cunt was bleeding."

She freezes at the words. She looks at me and thinks. She eyes me with disdain, with anger, with offence, "that's different."

"How is that different?"

"You lost a child."

I rip away from her, feeling my heart leap into my throat. It really was him. No one but Daemon and I knew this. I whisper, "Daemon?"

She tenses then melts into defeat. She falls into me, forehead crashing onto my shoulder. I whimper as I pull her in for a hug. She reluctantly embraces me back.

"Daemon," I mutter.

"It's me," she snakes her arms around my form, "ziry iksos nyke, ñuha jorrāelagon." It's me, my love.

"Oh, my prince," I pull her in, "what have you done to yourself?"

Her arms tighten, "I am your prince. Please believe me."

I nod and brush her hair, "I believe you."

She nuzzles her face into my neck and begins to cry. We sink down onto the cushions and she finds herself between my legs again.

"What did you do to the witch, Daemon?"

She growls and sniffles, "I burned that cunt's village to the ground and made her watch."

"By the Seven, Daemon!" I try to look at her. She refuses to let me pull away.

"I'll burn her next."

"No!" I push her off, "we need to find her and make her undo her curse."

Daemon rips away and looks at me with bloodshot eyes. I feel uneasy with how she looked. There were traces of my husband, certainly, but it was so familiar yet so foreign. I mutter, "I will have Ser Harwin take us to wher-"

"Harwin?" she exclaims, "what need have we of that Strong moron? I will take us both to-"

"We are two women!" I grab her face, "two princesses," I raise a brow, "I will come with you to ensure your temper does not get the best of you, and Harwin will be there to ensure no one gets any ideas with us."

After nearly an hour of arguing, Daemon remembers I am the wife in this relationship and always get my way in the end.

All at once, we go to Harwin's quarters and wake him. I had asked my handmaiden for a dress and made Daemon wear it. Daemon fussed over how itchy it was, saying I should have just gotten one of my dresses for her, and how I didn't have to wrap her hair behind a headscarf. I told her to shut up and follow through with my precautions or else be a woman forever.

Harwin, Seven bless him, asked no questions other than where we had to go when I told him I needed an escort at that hour.

Daemon eyed him the entire way to the stables, declined his help when Harwin offered to help her up a horse, and rode between Harwin and I, unwilling to let me answer any of the questions he had, which, to be fair, were mostly about directions, and I did not know them at all.

To my horror, the moment we got there, the witch was waiting for us, grinning at the she-prince. Daemon was furious and lunged out of her horse, charging at the witch. Harwin immediately stopped Daemon when she very much tried to kill the sorcerer.

One thing led to another, the witch taunted Daemon, practically begging to be killed; Daemon got close to doing so, then the witch laughed and said her death would make the curse irreversible. Harwin managed to grab Dae-- Demi, my stupid handmaiden, and threw her over his shoulder.

I ended up doing the talking. As Harwin wrangled with blazing Demi, I begged the witch to fix my husband. She was moved by my desperation and devotion to my 'vile dragon of a husband'. She explained to me every curse had an expiration and Daemon's was on the next crescent moon. I paid her a hefty amount to convince her not to extend Daemon's curse.

Needless to say, Daemon was furious by how things ended.

That morning, I was met with a myriad of complaints and a wholehearted unwillingness from her-- from him, from my husband to comply with my plans to hide his identity. He didn't want to keep up appearances as a handmaiden and demanded to wear one of my dresses instead. The fool made me think of a way to make his idea plausible. I figured if we darkened his hair, I could pretend he-- she, gods, this was confusing, was a distant relative coming to visit.

For the most part it worked, no one questioned me about it, not even Ser Harwin, who was surely incredibly suspicious about Demi. But I knew him to be good at keeping secrets, which was why I always liked him. That, and well, he was rather strong. Daemon did not like that additional explanation when he asked why I trusted Harwin.

I knew the unquestioning nature most people had stemmed over the fact my word as princess could nary be questioned, but of course, there would be some that still questioned. And by some, I meant the Lord Hand, who would not let the sudden appearance of a distant relative of mine be left unnoted.

"Princess," Otto Hightower greets me as we cross each other's paths in the halls. I mask my annoyance over the encounter with a smile.

Daemon, who was standing beside me, squares up. I do my best to keep Otto's attention on me as I greet him back, but he rather instantly turns to Daemon, eyeing his dress, his dyed black hair, and his piercing violet eyes with far too much interest. Otto rakes my husband's form then nods, "my lady."

I hold back a face.

Daemon does not; his lips curl in disgust, "Hightower."

I shoot a glare at the woman. Daemon continues to try to burn Otto with his glare.

Otto looks at Daemon, top to bottom, with a raised brow, "I've not met many women of your stature. You are nearly as tall as I."

"I'm sure you've not met a lot of women in your lifetime."

"Daem-"I hiss but manage to stop myself. I turn to Otto, "pardon my cousin. She is not from here, and has learned to protect herself using her sharp-tongue."

Otto turns to me, "your cousin seems to be unaccustomed to the graces of King's Landing."

Daemon crosses his arms and sniggers. I cannot help but smack and eye him dirtily. Otto watches this closely. My husband turns to me, then back to Otto, "ah, yes. King's Landing is so unfamiliar to me. I fear I would get lost on my own."

Otto cannot help but rest his eyes on Daemon's chest, the exposed, soft flesh pushing up with how his arms were crossed. Daemon's face twitches when he notices it, then immediately unclasps his arms. He feels anger and embarrassment burn up his ears at the blatant ogling. Had the gaze been directed to his wife, he would have struck him, and yet the scrutiny on his she-body left him debilitated.

"The Keep is not that hard to navigate," Otto mutters, "if you ever lose your way, I am sure you will find many willing to help a lady such as yourself."

Daemon's insides burn, so he spits out the fire, "and would you ever help me, my lord?"

The level of disgust Daemon feels when he catches the subtle curve of Otto's lips is insurmountable. Lord Hand nods, "if you insist."

I cannot shake the chill that runs up my spine. I play it off by chuckling, "most generous of you, my lord. But I assure you, it will not come to that. I will not let my darling cousin out of my sight."

Otto turns to me, "a pity," he turns back to Daemon, "what was your name again?"

Daemon curses roughly in High Valyrian. It makes my heart leap into my mouth and I scramble to say, "Demi! Demi!"

"Demi," Otto tests the name on his tongue, "an uncommon name for an uncommon girl."

Daemon's eye twitches, "girl?"

"She is not from here!" I quip.

"As you've said once before, princess," Otto steps forward, "where are you from, Lady Demi?"

"Se trūmāje ripo hen nopāzma," Daemon steps forward. The deepest pit of hell.

I grab his arm, pulling him back. Unlike in his natural form, it was slightly easier to handle Daemon like this. He topples backward.

Otto tilts his head, "that's quite a name for a place. I've not heard it before."

My husband laughs, "trust me, my Lord-"

Otto and I are shocked at how Demi pats Otto's cheeks twice.

"-you'll find yourself going there soon enough."

I yank Daemon back again. Otto is stunned still in his spot. I quickly bid farewell to the Hand and reel us both out of that horrid conversation. I violently pinch the stupid woman beside me as we scurry down the halls.

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

How Much Do Turtles Weigh?

Steven Grant x GN!Reader x Marc Spector • Rating: PG •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • MK Bingo 2024 Masterlist • ko-fi •

Summary: You visit the aquarium with Steven and Marc.

🌛For @moonknight-events MK Bingo Spring 2024 Event🌜

A/N: I got so excited when I remembered the lighting in ep 4 because I thought, 'Ahhhh, possible aquarium lighting?'

Warnings: TURTLES, London (ew, jk I live in this country), Steven's been feeling a little low, reader doing some mental maths, Marc and Steven not knowing how to convert kg to pounds, Marc admitting he doesn't understand currency conversion, swearing, typos, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

Word Count: 618

“Oh my god!” Steven giggled, eyes wide as the turtle swam right in front of you. “She’s so pretty!” 

You grinned, taking some quick (and blurry) photos before leaning to the side to try to see further into the tank. 

“I think she’s gone behind those rocks,” Steven said, still smiling from ear to ear. 

You nod, “she's massive! Like, I know they’re big, but wow, they’re big!” 

“And their fins!” He chimes in.

“Like dinosaurs!”

He laughs and wraps his arm around you, squeezing you tight. “Thank you for bringing me here, love.” 

You hug him back. “Of course, well, really I had an ulterior motive.” You say playfully. 

Steven immediately plays along, giving you a look of mock shock. “Really?” 

“Hmm,” you nod, all conspiratorial. “Well, two actually, first,” you lean a little closer. “I wanted to go to the aquarium.” 

He chuckles. “And the second?” 

You smile at him and kiss his cheek. “I love seeing you happy.” 

The tips of his ears blush a rosy pink and he hugs you fully this time, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and squeezing you tightly. 

Normally, you weren’t a massive fan of public displays of affection. But the bonus of going out in the middle of a weekday in February meant that for the London Seaslife Centre, it was actually quite quiet. 

But you would have hugged him back even if the place was full to the brim. That was one of the many special things about Steven, he always made you feel like you were the only person in the room. 

He kisses your cheek, only loosening his grip and whispering in your ear, “she’s back.” He pointed to the glass and you smile as you both watched the turtle swim past again. 

You noticed the small twitch in his hands, his grip changing for a moment, tightening before relaxing. 

Marc kisses your temple. “Thank you for taking Steven out baby.” 

You nuzzle against his jaw. 

“He’s been feeling a bit down lately,” Marc speaks close to your skin, “I know you know that but…”

“Yeah.” You nod, you understand what he means.

“Holy shit,” Marc laughs, “that turtle is amazing! What the fuck are they feeding it?”

You giggle in his arms.

“160kg?” Marc frowns, looking at his reflection in the glass, “what’s that mean?” 

“About 350 pounds,” you answer, doing some very dodgy mental maths.

“Fuck me.” He chuckles, “also thank you, Steven had no idea what the conversion rate was.” He paused. “And neither do I.”

“It’s about 0.45 I think.”

He gave you a look. A mixture of suspicious and impressed. “How do you know that?”

You shrug. “No idea.”

He nodded. “Yeah, alright.” 

You both turn back to the tank.

“You’ve lived here for long enough Spector, I would have thought you’ve got the hang of kg and stone by now.” You tease. 

Marc pulls a face. “I still get confused when I’m paying in pounds.” 

“What?” You laugh. 

“Yeah,” he gives you a sheepish smile. “I always forget that $1 isn’t £1. So I’ll go ‘wow, things are so much cheaper here.’” 

“Idiot.” You giggle. 

“Fair.” 

“Give it another 6 months though, I’m sure the pound will fall some more.” 

Marc snorted. “You’ll be thankful for my strong, American dollars then.” 

“Oh, definitely.” 

“I’m really upset love,” Steven said, his tone making it clear he was playing, “I told Marc to make an absolutely brilliant innuendo about ‘strong, American currency’.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah! And he won’t say it!”

You giggle. “No?” 

“No.” 

“I’m shocked.”

“Appalled,” Steven added, keeping his arm around your shoulders as you both began to walk to the next part. “I’m gonna have to tell you instead…” 

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh @mbakubabe @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley @saturn-rings-writes @boredzillenial @lonelyisamyw-0love @melodygatesauthor @steven-grants-world  @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @queerponcho @silver-night-m @apesarecuul

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

[tokyo-debunkers-headcanons]

ahh since ur requests are open may I pls request the frostheim ghouls (and possibly leo? LOL) and how you think they would make it up to mc after making them upset? Preferably some hurt/comfort if possible but whatever is easiest for you!

Ahhhh my first request! Thank you for sending it in! Also I'm so sorry for any typos in these headcanons, I'm just dumb (so sorry to the Jin Kamurai fans) and this is assuming you guys are at least good friends (if not more) at this point in time.

JIN KAMURAI

Okay, real talk. I think Jin is terrible with emotions. Even worse when he's done something wrong. I don't think he'd ever SAY that he's wrong or that he's sorry. But we all know he's got that cash money, so I think he'd order MC to go somewhere with/for him and treat them as a unspoken apology. Like he's ordering them to pick something up for him, somewhere in the academy, and gives them some 'pocket change' to buy their lunch. (STOP! DRABBLE TIME!)

MC was considering telling Jin to shove it, but they knew it would end up biting them in the ass, so they walked through Frostheim, dragging their feet. They were less than thrilled to be going back to the Frostheim captain's room. Sooner than they'd like, they were standing outside of his door. Before they could knock like they usually did, the door swung open, revealing Jin, his eyes narrowed, he held out a small stack of documents to them, dropping them in their hands. He turned his back to them curtly saying,

"Get these to Professor Dante. Now."

MC wanted to say something. To snap back at him but they paused when they felt something at the bottom of the stack of documents. Upon further inspection, it was a wad of big bills. At a glance it was at least 100,000 yen (about 1,000 USD). MC's eyes went wide at the stack of bills, they looked back up at Jin's retreating figure. They were about to question why, when all he said was,

"Get something to eat once your done. Thats an order"

With that, he closed the door and ended the discussion.

TOHMA ISHIBASHI

Okay, Tohma on the other hand I think is better with emotions than Jin. But he's still not the best. He at least knows how to apologize...he's just bad at saying it. I feel like Tohma is more of an acts of service person (duh) than a verbal person if that makes sense. If he's upset MC its easier for him to do small things to apologize than to actually say the words. (here is your order of drabble, freshly written)

Tohma watched MC carefully behind his monocle, he knew they were upset and why. But he hadn't expected them to stay upset for this long. Deciding to take matters into his own hands, he waited until they would return the next day to finalize some documents with the second year ghouls. When the time came, Tohma took their jacket and prepared the a special blend of tea and biscuits for them while they worked on the papers. The practiced smile always on his face. After some time he returned with a tray, presenting it in front of them, his expression softer than before. When he set it down, all he said was,

"I've taken the liberty of bringing you something to eat. You've been working diligently as of late, among...other reasons. I hope you enjoy your meal"

With that, he swiftly left them to their work and their thoughts, giving them space.

KAITO FUJI

Kaito here is on the entire opposite side of that spectrum. He has absolutely no problem saying the words, but even if he was forgiven the first time, he still doesn't think its enough. So if anything, he does too much. He'll buy them flowers and chocolates to gain their forgiveness. It almost seems insincere how much he apologizes but he really does mean. Its more that his insecurities get the better of him and he doubts himself, so they might need to knock some sense into him for it to actually get through to him that he's been forgiven. Please be patient with him, he just really likes MC and he gets most of his advice from crappy magazines. (TO THE DRABBLE!)

Kaito held the bouquet of flowers in his arms tightly and held out the box of chocolates to MC. They had already told him that it was okay, but it didn't *feel* okay to him. There was a small voice in his head telling him that they were still upset with him. He had sent them a text, asking to meet in the library of DA academy. When MC arrived however, they sighed deeply, walking directly up to Kaito with a scowl on their face, saying,

"Kaito. I told you that its okay, you don't need to keep doing these kinds of gestures. If I was still upset with you, I wouldn't have shown up here to begin with"

Kaito's face went pale. He should have known they were smart enough to see right through him and his plan. He sighed, saying.

"I know you did i just-...I just wanted to be sure we were still cool....I'm sorry"

MC shook their head, their expression getting softer, they pulled out a chair from one of the tables in the library and sat down, saying,

"I'll forgive you, if you promise not to do anymore of these gestures....and you split those chocolates with me"

Kaito softly smiled and sat beside them, setting the flowers aside and the chocolates between them, he was so glad to know someone as sweet as MC.

LUCAS ERRANT

Lucas I think is closer to the middle of the spectrum. He's pretty literal and like I said before, he's not the best with social cues. From what I gather, he's more used to people saying what they mean. So if MC told them they were fine, he might worry at first, but he'd let it go, trusting MC enough to think they'd always tell him what was on their mind. If they do however tell him that they're still upset, that's different. If they were still upset I think he'd give them another apology and some bisuits. If that wasn't enough, then I think he's the type of guy to tell them stories about himself. Either about him and or his twin brother when they were little. Like really be vulnerable with them. (YOU'VE ACTIVATED MY TRAP CARD! DRABBLE! YOU TAKE 420 LIFE POINTS WORTH OF DAMAGE!)

Lucas had been worried about MC ever since they last saw eachother. Something about them had seemed off in a way. He was even more worried when he got a text from them asking to meet him in Frostheim's main entrance. He quickly grabbed his things and raced off to Frostheim. When he arrived MC was standing inside, their face somber. He reached them, immediately asking,

"MC! Are you alright? Did something happen?"

He gave them a quick once over, even gently grabbing their wrist to look it over, making sure they weren't injured. When MC snapped their arm out of his grasp, he looked up at them surprised. When they explained that they were still upset with him, he understood. He asked them to follow him to one of the secluded balconies at Frostheim. When they arrived, it was silent for the first few moments. Luca pressing his hands against the balcony railing and looking up at the sky. Before MC could break the silence, Luca softly spoke,

"I've never been the best at putting myself in the shoes of others...at least not without guidance....Jin has told me so, and even my brother....when we were little I would always have trouble whenever he would get upset with me. He told me he was fine, but he never was. I suppose I still have quite a bit to learn about others around me...I'm truly sorry MC. I hope you can find it within yourself to forgive me"

LEO KUROSAGI

Leo won't apologize. Let's be honest. If you think Jin is bad, Leo is WORSE. I think because of his fame and looks, that he's used to getting his way, even if he's a dick about it. I feel like he learned early on that the world is a cold cruel place and that saying you're sorry is admitting that you were wrong about something. Leo is 100% the kind of guy to expect them to get over whatever it is he did, even if it was something really bad. Man has like no moral compass, anything is on the table, even if it's deeply personal. I he'd get bored and keep sending you dumb tiktoks or meme's to get you to talk to him and hang out again. At MOST I think he'd trap you into going out somewhere with him and he'd treat you. Like get you a Starbucks drink or something, but thats it. And if MC won't go out with him, he'll come to them with two new trendy Starbucks drinks and his tablet ready to watch some shitty reality TV and make fun of the cast.

Leo glared down at his phone with a huff, MC hadn't reacted to any of his tiktoks or memes, not even the sad cat ones! It had been a few days since they'd went out. Sho was busy with his own thing so Leo had no one else to bet with. He dramatically sighed and immediately started to look through MC'S social media on his phone. He noticed that they'd like a post on the new drinks at Starbucks and started to formulate a plan. He dragged Sho away from him project and got to work.

MC sat on their bed, relaxing after a long day of classes, waiting to hear from professor Hyde which house they were going to be assigned to next. A knock at the front door echoed throughout the old cathedral, startling them. When MC got up and answered the door, Leo stood there with a cup holder and his signature impish smile,

"Hey MC! You didn't show up so I came here!"

Leo pushed past them and looked around, visible disgust on his face before turning to MC, his smile slapping back onto his face, saying,

"I can't believe you live like this! But whatever! Come one i brought my tablet with the new housewives season and the new spicy dragon fruit drink from Starbucks. Where has the best lighting in this shithole? I need to post about it before we start watching"

Leo handed them the drink, looking around before he found their bedroom, making himself comfortable and moving some of their things around to make a mini photo shoot for the drink. Once he was done, MC had finally found him, sitting on her bed and drinking what he brought. He saw them and gently pat beside him on the bed, saying,

"C'mon! How can you stay mad at a handsome devil like me? Now come here, I NEED to know what happens to Bethenny Frankel!"

[betterthanyalls]

Hii!! Can i request anxiety x lust/passion!fem!reader from inside out 2?

Not nessecarily nsfw or suggestive, reader just is a mischevious bastard and imagines riley's crushes on worst times and anxiety gets anxious over stuff going wrong or the program getting thrown off because of reader's decisions and the reader is just watching the chaos with a shit-eating grin.

You can ignore if you want to and take care!!

AHHHH THIS IS SO COOL!!! I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH!! Ok so I wrote most all of this around midnight for a few nights, so there might be some typos or grammatical errors but I had some friends read over it a few times for me:) I hope you love this as much as I do!!

Masterlist

Anxious Daydreams

Anxiety x Love!Reader

Inside Out 2 ~ Oneshot ~ Fluff

Words: 972

Published: 7-8-2024

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright emotions! You all remember your jobs today?” Joy inquired excitedly, her never-ending smile decorating her face.

The other 9 emotions nodded along or agreed in some form of begrudging grumbles. Joy’s shoulders lifted as she began the day on the console.

—

Riley was currently in her geometry class taking an exam. Every emotion agreed not to touch the console and allow Riley to not be distracted by her emotions. So, as per usual when bored, you just so happened to find the main room empty.

A sly smirk took over your lips as you carefully walked up to the main console, taking a few looks around to confirm nobody was walking in.

Once you knew you were alone, you began to work your magic. Being the emotion of Love had its quirks, with one of the quirks being that you couldn’t let Riley go too long with some daydreams.

After pressing who knows how many buttons and dials, you managed to get Riley distracted from her emotionless and dull test. Sure, you didn’t want her to fail the exam, but you also didn’t want her to become so bored that she did fail the test.

Soon enough, images of all of Riley’s crushes that occupy Mount Crush-more were circling her mind. You had also gotten the imagination tent to begin forming scenarios about her interests.

Without you realizing, Riley had completely zoned out from the test with the exam’s timer running low.

All seemed to be going well for you until a loud gasp and clatter was heard. Whipping your head to look at the noise, you were met with Anxiety dropping her coffee and rushing over to the console, moving you gently out of the way.

“What did you do?!” Anxiety blurted in a panic, beginning to press buttons on the console in rapid motions. You simply took a step back with a grin. It was oddly entertaining to see Anxiety panic so much over an event that wouldn’t result in much.

While Anxiety was distracted with one half of the console, you would silently go to the other side and press more buttons. The two opposing emotions, practically dueling it out.

Anxiety and you went back and forth, one emotion finding the situation beyond tiring and irritating whilst the other simply laughed along with a smirk.

Finally, the emotions heard a loud timer go off as all four eyes looked onto the vision of Riley. The girl looked up to see the exam had finished and when looking back down at her test, half the page was meaningless scribbles.

“Oh,” you muttered, realizing this was mostly all your fault. Taking a glance at Anxiety, the orange emotion was practically ripping her hair out.

“We failed the test. The teacher is going to think we are stupid and hate us! Then we’ll never pass geometry, and we’ll have to retake it as sophomores. Everyone in high school will make fun of us for failing, and it will go on our permanent record for any college to see. And that’s if we even graduate after failing geometry. Then we’ll be homeless and jobless forever!” Anxiety rambled on, not noticing the slow and cautious steps you took towards her.

The crazed emotion finally snapped out of it once you took her hands into your own with gentle care. Looking into the jade green eyes of her own, you gave her an apologetic expression.

“Anxiety,” you began with a low and smooth tone, “everything will be just fine. Listen, I know Riley messed up that test all because of me, but I promise I’ll make it right. I can let Riley talk to her teacher, we both know Mrs. Rilesim is a nice lady.”

You could see Anxiety’s shoulders ease a fraction, but it was obvious she was still overwhelmed. So, squeezing her hands in your own, you continued your words while carefully guiding Anxiety to her recliner.

After having Anxiety sit in her recliner, you stayed next to her to offer a calming presence.

“Riley won’t fail geometry. She won’t have to retake this class. She won’t be made fun of.” You spoke with a benign tone, not looking away from Anxiety’s eyes.

“But what if-“ The other started before being shushed faintly by you.

“There are no ‘what if’s right now. We are in the present. All will be alright.” You finally managed to get Anxiety to calm down a little as a small smile took over your lips.

“Now, take some deep breaths with me. In. And out. In. And out. Good.” Anxiety followed your lead, mimicking your own breathing patterns. You nodded gingerly.

“You’re doing amazing, Anxiety. Would you like me to make you some tea?”

Said emotion accepted the offer quietly, focusing on her breathing. Your chest puffed out slightly in pride of helping Anxiety, turning away to make some quick tea. Everything was going to be alright.

Soon enough, you walked up to Anxiety who was relaxing in her massage chair. A warm cup of tea was held with both your hands as you stood next to the chair, handing the steaming cup to the orange emotion.

“There you go, Anxiety,” you smiled warmly, planting a soft kiss against her forehead as she sipped her drink. A calming hum was heard from Anxiety when you leaned back.

“You really know how to help me, thank you,” Anxiety smiled back at you, scooting over a bit for you to sit next to her and patting the now open spot.

Grinning, you hopped up and sat next to her, wrapping your arms around Anxiety’s body and holding the orange emotion close to you in a comforting manner. Neither of you said anything else throughout the private session together. This was just what both of you needed after the test.

[satocidal]

𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ ʿ𖥔 ִ ་ ، ˖ ࣪ ་ ˖ Unfortunately, Yours

↳ Gojo Satoru x Fem!Reader

Episode 1:-

↳ ||Masterlist||Taglist Form||next chapter(two)||

Synopsis: It is when the birth right is snatched from your hands that your eyes truly ever open—especially when it’s always been there, right in your grasp. The Throne was yours, that was the truth promised and yet- yet your fate lay sealed with a certain Gojo. With an arranged marriage set in plan, alongs sets the plan of murder—within a wife who wants the throne and a husband who wants nothing but power, but suffers with them the present and the future of other two—especially when the lies of the past start surfacing.

— Word count: 3.9k

— A/n: ahhhh I have so many nerves lmao because this is the first chapter and I don’t wanna ruin it at all lol. And I wanna keep everything so subtle yk? But hope you guys like this!

— Warnings: Asshole Satoru; Asshole reader; mentions of adultery; slight objectification(?); Fem Bodied! Reader; usage of feminine terms; author thinks she can write💀 ps: I’ve never seen Christian weddings (or whatever I’ve written idk lol) so bare with me; typos

Hands that were trained, calloused once with bruises, prepared to be painted with blood now sat idle—a diamond ring in the finger.

Fate- the red string- two ends.

About 8 billion people walked the surface of earth—it was said, heard, stated, passed—The Greek god Zeus split each one of us into halves, punished to roam the earth and find our other half—the soulmate. Fatalism stated that everything was predestined- so it must be true, the concept of it.

Marriage—sacred, pure.

The day was clear as ever in your eyes—your father had entered the room, a solemn look on his face, a ring in hand; the entire month you had watched as the Gojos became a usual Tomorrow; you had watched as your sisters giggled at the premonition of your marriage; you had watched as the tables shifted and you had watched, and watched and watched.

Eyes numb, heart aching and mind a mess, you watched for that was all you could do now.

It was rushed, the whole process of it—a month ago your wedding planned and a month later you were gone. You didn’t want the wedding, you were sure Satoru Gojo didn’t either—“He’s so in love with you,” from your cousins deluded you—“I’m so lucky to have you,” from his mother.

Mind filled with thoughts of a man you’d only meet at the night of your wedding.

No amount of convincing could’ve been for you to utter a yes—but a definitive “You will do it,” from your father did wonders.

“You’ll be alright,” a whisper—your mother’s, soft, harsh.

“You have to be alright,” a demand—your father’s, careful, adamant.

“Promise me you’ll be alright,” a thought—your sister’s, empty, or so you dared to think.

And that was true, in a lonesome bind, you thought a lot.

You thought when your sister braided your hair, pretty, elegant—nothing you’d ever found yourself to be defined as.

You thought while your mother and grandmother, aunts and maids—they giggled, old wives’ tales falling off chastised lips like honey.

You thought when you found your father’s eyes hiding—nervous, you’d noted but you only thought.

And you thought still when the morning arrived, you sister kneeling beside you—eyes focused, narrowed, fingers working fast to smoothen the white.

Perfect the white.

Perfect your impure white—the dirty kind.

And finally, alone with your sister, you spoke.

“You must be glad,”

A silence met you, heavy.

“Don’t be shy about it, not anymore,”

A sigh— she got up slow, eyes focused still on your white gown—“you look gorgeous,” a mumble you heard.

You found yourself staring at her curls—when did she curl those you wondered, but then she’d answer that you didn’t care and perhaps, you didn’t.

Not usually.

“We’re sisters Aki,” you pestered, “you can tell me ya know?” You winked—a smirk, a tease—all to prove your point.

“The wedding is to begin in an hour now then, be prepared,”

“Don’t change topics. Tell me you’re happy about it, about all this,”

Another sigh—a glare and a huff, “Has father stuffed lies so deep your throat that you’re begging to hear them now?”

Again, silence.

Father—

Your eye twitched—nose puffed and eyes flared at your form in the mirror—you did you look gorgeous, or at least, different. A good different, arguably.

“Alright,” she mumbled quietly then, “c’mere—” her hands beckoned you close, her own navy blue contrasting to your pure white—ironic, you mused.

“What,” face scrunched, you let out—causing your sister to chuckle, “At least smile at your own wedding y/n,”

A scoff—“I’ll cry if I damn want to—and no, not for the dramatics,” a chuckle, this time, mutual.

“I’ll miss you,” you heard her whisper against you, entrapped in an embrace you stood, stiff—your eyes lay blank.

“Was it…my—”

“It’s not to chastise you,”

“It’s no less than that,”

“Endure it,”

A tear, quick, rolled down your cheek—wiped off all too quickly by your own sister—for you were to look perfect tonight.

Perfect for your perfect husband.

“Find your happiness there,” she whispered against your shoulder—you sobbed, “Why is he sending me away?”

Cruel. Cruel. Cruel.

“He sent us all away- even mother,” her hands patted your back- the touch felt foreign—“Not me,” your voice rasped, “I was different, I was better, I was the best he had,” her hands tensed around you—“I don’t know,” she confessed, “but promise me, you’ll be happy there,”

You nodded- empty.

“He’s going to be a fool in love,” her voice adorned, his mother- sharp- “So fortunate to get someone like you in my house, such a sweet pretty thing you are,” you smiled in accordance- hands clenched.

It was for her sake, you believed, the Gojo family worked in her shadow— a finger lifted meant everyone had to stand, a finger pressed and silence—in some way or the other, she stood to be your admiration. To hold power was to be nothing however to call power, now that, you admired.

It was in the way she was subtle but oh so glorified—Kana Gojo, perhaps the only woman or human you’d dared to look upto.

You smiled as she’d walked you around—parading shops through shops, looking for what she deemed the perfect dress—perfect, she wanted it to be—perfect not for her son but perfect in every sense of it.

-

A gift placed in your hand- bribe—“Aren’t you the sweetest Hm?” A smile, vaunted- his father, a careful spendthrift in every sense of the word.

You smiled, nodded and chuckled—“only learned from the best,” your eyes zoom over to your mother—never learned anything from her, you didn’t, and yet—formalities and a certain charm, you graced them evidently.

The head of the house, at least on paper—he didn’t hold much prowess with the profits but then, Gojos barely needed any more profit for the empire was built well and well enough to not crash. He did, however, hold his hands high and wide—welcoming, warm; everything his wife was not.

Not yin to her yang but the epitomised silver to her gold — Ginji Gojo, perhaps the only man to accustom himself to his wife, the only man you never truly could understand, along his son, of course.

You grinned as he lead you, hand held in his own—eyes searching for the perfect diamond to adorn not your finger but your marriage.

-

Shy glances and shyer hello-s he muttered, it was cute—you supposed, in the way a letter found is way in your hands—“Read it when you’re alone please,”—his cousin brother, innocent.

‘Hello,’ it began—cut off—‘Dear Y/n,’—cut off—‘assume I said something cool,’ you chuckled, the rest, a memory nestled deep in your mind.

He was young, 9–someone you hoped to inspire—Megumi—he didn’t know much, or anything at all, a subtle age of nine after all. But he knew enough.

Not enough to strike competition but smart enough to be called his successor; he was a smart kid you’d mused, a polite greet everytime you two met, a sweeter letter handed everytime.

Twice he cut off the beginning every time and deliberate you’d found it be—cuter still. And he lead you still, hand holding onto yours as he helped you decide on the flavour of the cake.

The girl, you watched from the corner of your eyes, chuckled, a hand reaching out to slap her father’s hand away—he chuckled, smiled, conversed—something and everything you never had.

A tear rolled down your cheek, salty—“Crying already?” The voice was gruff, your father’s.

“Father,” you muttered, hands reaching upto wipe the tear away quick—“Don’t,” he muttered, “Tears are useful.”

You could only nod.

The man stood beside you, taller by a decent inch or two—hands stuffed in his pocket and a bow tie tight around his neck; the man was slender— a ghost of the figure he used to be, could’ve been. A potential wasted, he called himself—a potential wasted, you too.

You watched him as he moved around you, hefty eyes felt heavy, scanning your form—“You look fine,” a compliment he’d deem it—perhaps it was, “Didn’t know white was your colour.”

It wasn’t.

Did he know anything about you? At all? No.

“Suppose it is, today onwards,” he smiled, you frowned, “That’s my girl.”

Another tear rolled quick, then another and they kept rolling, you stood blank.

“No,” you scowled defiantly—his hands working quick—scowl, mirroring yours as he wiped the tears—“When I said tears, I didn’t mean these many. You cannot possibly be this dramatic.”

An empty grin.

“Dramatic?” Voice pitched, brows raised, heart shattering you stared at him—“I am being dramatic?” Loud enough you were to have people raise the awareness that the bride was moody- or so they’d gossip and so you’d let them.

His eyes narrowed—a sign, quite usually telling you to quieten down—not today, “Why are you doing this?” You finally asked, shoulders relieved, heart heavier still—afraid the answer might me the truth you’ve fed yourself.

“Is this some- some-” you paused, a breath caught, eyes cast down—“punishment? Did I do something wrong?”

And in that moment, perhaps you were nothing more than a little girl—perhaps in that moment you wanted nothing more than your father’s reassurance—perhaps things could’ve been better.

But they weren’t—glory of fate itself.

“Don’t create a fucking scene,”

Had hearts really been made of glass, your father would’ve heard yours break—not once but a million times in that second. Again and again and again.

A noise—static.

“Yes sir,” you muttered, eyes dancing along his hands—you shuddered—he twisted his own.

-

His hands were soft as they held yours, he lead you slow, your father did.

The white veil that you’d spent hours to decide upon, the one you would never care about—it swept beside you, gasps escaping the lips of many as you walked out.

And there, there your eyes met his.

Poised he stood, white hair slicked back—nothing like those superficial memories his mother had told about, nothing like the tabloids you’d seen. This man, the one on your altar—that was Satoru Gojo.

Not the Toru’ you’d heard of, not the Heir of Gojos you’d kept your eyes upon, not the stubborn and hardheaded Satoru-san his maids had warned you about, not anything you’d known.

This was Satoru Gojo, your husband to be.

You hadn’t assumed your wedding to be a fairytale—in all honesty, you hadn’t assumed anything at all.

A prison you’d deemed it on the first day and perhaps that was all it was—but something, just something in you cried all too much when Satoru didn’t slip so much as a smile towards you.

Don’t get me wrong, he’d grinned and smirked all night- teased by his friends—congratulated by everyone—he did show joy, in some meaning of the word.

Not to you- but I suppose a win that was too—after all, a marriage is built on the truths right?

Eyes moist, a tear he did let go off—superficial it was, you knew it, but a hero Satoru Gojo would be deemed the next day in the magazines his family would pay good money to.

Yours was never meant to be that perfect wedding, not at the core of it—you knew that from day one of the sequenced wedding but then—just something, someone in you cried a little too. Just someone broke inside when you realised it wouldn’t be your husband who cried the moment he set his eyes on his bride—it wouldn’t be you telling those cute stories about your wedding day.

It wouldn’t be you—it was normal you’d heard, for grooms to be overwhelmed in there weddings- the thought of spending a forever with his bride, the supposed memories flooding their mind—but it wouldn’t be for you. He stood there with hands behind him, eyes awaiting you presence still.

A smile he held—empty as you joined him—eyes were very telling you r father had preached, never once had you found him to be wrong.

His hands felt cold as you held them—cold like your father’s, colder still somehow was his presence. And your realised, heart — to what you had thought to be a void — breaking as you realised that the marriage was a cage to him as much as you. Neither happy—he wasn’t happy with your presence.

Pathetic. But again, did it truly matter?

The wedding had begun— officiated, soon your “I do”s would slip, the wedding couldn’t be stopped now, not ever.

And in that moment your eyes flickered to your own mother—she stood regal.

Embroidery she’d fought into you, cooking and baking, sewing a skill she’d made you own too—pity she couldn’t teach you controlling your emotions—pity your father was your influence.

Your eyes managed to flicker onto him—saintly, your brain mused—your heart couldn’t help but agree. And those saintly features held an ugly heart you told yourself, solace to a lonesome mind.

“Satoru, do you promise to love, honor, cherish, and protect Y/N, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?”

When he took a moment to answer with a blank gaze, you could feel tiny pricks being sent straight to your heart. Just a mere glance at his stolid mien was enough for you to believe that he was going to call off the wedding and run away—mayhaps you wanted that, mayhaps, you didn’t.

What else could you expect?

He clearly didn’t want this, understandable was the fact. It wouldn’t surprise you if he took a step back and announced that he couldn’t go on in making an oath to offer the rest of his life with you. That he would rather get out of this hell hole and be somewhere else than to proclaim a love that was being forced out of him.

“I do,” he professed, despite the inner turmoil that plagued his head.

You sighed—soft.

“Y/n, do you promise to love, honour and cherish and protect Satoru, forsaking all others, and holding only unto her forevermore?”

Your eyes were quick—a glance here and there and everywhere—the pause was heavy; you watched your father’s nod of encouragement—your mother’s sharp eyes—his mother’s smile, fake- his father’s sip of champagne—your sister’s eyes’ were hazy; his best friend tipsy.

You couldn’t say no—“I do,”

“Bride and Groom, you have heard the words of love and marriage, have exchanged your vows and made your promises, and celebrated your union with the giving and receiving of rings. It is at this time that I now pronounce you husband and wife,” the officiant declared, “you may now kiss the bride.”

Your eyes widened behind your veil- your first- the breath hitched as Satoru removed your veil—crystal seemed his eyes, crystal clear was his distaste. He was tall—comical in fact—you tip toed slight, he leaned in a bit—the kiss was warm, chill, foreign. His hand rested upon your cheek, a stroke—a pull, brief.

Your eyes watched as he pulled away, a new smile on his lips—an actor he could’ve proven to be.

A million thoughts clouded you and him—known to only the two of you—marriage worked quick in that sense you supposed, mother and you sister weer perhaps right. But when all was said and done—the marriage was officiated.

And your eyes met then—a thought passed between you and your husband—stuck together—Unfortunately, Yours.

Hair slicked, ivory, elegant.

For a man who was yours even when he wasn’t—you supposed he was good.

Gojo Satoru swept across the room—a smile on his face, gentle; gentler was the rhythm he walked at. Here and there, he conversed, after all, a man of his charm he was- taking after none but his father.

Idle gossip danced along his ears while he giggled with women—politics fell off his lips as he sipped on the champagne—he teased and played with children too, laughing and joking with them—Gojo Satoru smiled to all but his wife-to-be. She sat there, quiet, unmoving, unrelenting—she lay still.

“It’s the fifth time you’ve stared at her in the last 3 minutes,” a glass in hand—a black suit adorned, Suguru waltzed beside him—a sly grin on his face, “I know you’re married but that’s really desperate, even for you,”

“Shut up,” Satoru muttered, grinning wide at the new set of guests—hand motioning the waiters to attended to it.

Suguru chuckled again, “Your dad really didn’t help out today either huh?”

“Old geezer’s getting drunk,” voice, plain—monotonous, hands clenched at his sides —begging to run through his hair—to ruin it all.

“How was she?”

“Boring,”

Suguru’s eyes zoomed on to the specific waitress—limping—he sighed, “Your mother was worried sick and you’re having affairs already?,” he began, hands reaching up to fix the shirt, “And today is your wedding today—have some etiquette,”

Eyes rolled—the same dialogue slipped off his mouth—“You’re becoming my mother—and she isn’t random; as is I’ll get her fired now,” he grinned this time around, “but not anymore, I’ve already got another woman to fuck around with,” a hand—sharp—landed on his head.

“Respect her,” the raven haired boy muttered, eyes focused and cast down, “She’s your wife today onwards—not just some woman you can fuck whenever you want,”

Satoru scowled, hands rubbing the back of his head, the spot where Suguru struck, “That’s all she means,”

“Don’t tempt me to make her a widow before she’s even married Satoru,” a grin, a huge one Suguru masked—words deadly balanced.

“Treat her well Satoru,”

“You marry her then,”

“Suck it up and smile,”

“Fuck you,”

“I will,”—a grin, a chuckle and that was that. A hand patted Satoru on the back—“Treat her well,” Suguru muttered again, both their eyes cast onto you—where a smile rested on both their lips, only one was genuine. Your eyes found tracing their oath to their spot too, black and white—they seemed a beautiful set—your eyes cast to your own gown and your sister’s. White and navy blue—all the same.

A couple and another, a pair of four.

Suguru let his eyes cast down to his watch—about time for the dance—“Satoru,” his voice was smooth, “it’s time for your dance,”

He hummed—“Her father, or I suppose mine too now—he wanted her first dance,” Suguru raised his brows, “and you let him? What happened ‘I don’t share’” A small smirk played on the younger male’s lips.

“I don’t share what’s mine—not all that-” another strike, harder.

-

Inhale, exhale- again.

You hands shook, and ears ringed—you were married. The statement related in your mind for the 5th time since.

Married. Tied down.

“Entertain me with the first dance m’lady?” Your eyes narrowed—sharp—“Father?”

Beside you stood you father indeed, an aura different—an aura that had become his past.

He smiled, kind—your confusion only grew—“It’s time sweetheart,” Your teeth clenched; sweetheart?

You nodded still—be his good girl—his hand held yours; yours, his.

The music was slow- none that you recognised, you needn’t, you’d want to forget the moment already. The applause for you was blurry, everything around you was too. Eyes didn’t bother running off to your mother, nor your husband—they never did around your father.

And in the moment, you could’ve sworn to the vain memory you held—your father seemed like the man you once knew; seemed like the one who had abandoned you. Rage seized a decent part of your mind—desperation to hold onto him took charge of the other.

He held you close- an embrace not felt in forever, “You’ll be fine baby,” he mumbled into your ear—“don’t say that,” you were quick to add.

“Don’t be like this,” you added next, his heart broke, yours already was.

He knew however, what you meant- not a single objection he raised, guilt all too evident on the face that held its own wisdom. Evident however, only to those who knew him and pity lay such, he never let you.

“Just entertain me here,” you finally spoke—a minute left of your song—“why did you agree to this? We’re not- we’re not in need of money, we’ve the perfect military- you’ve raised me enough for me to take over at any given instance then why—why them?”

His gaze should’ve hardened—you expected it; it softened.

“I apologise.”

You nodded yet again- an answer unkempt.

-

Satoru’s hand felt the same it had the altar, soft, scented- something you perhaps wanted to hated.

He spun you around—a man of honour your mother would call him, you beckoned yourself to him—a lady of grace his mother would call you.

People danced all around you, your eyes found their way onto your sister, smiling and giggling—suitors all around her, you smiled.

Eyes couldn’t help but falter at Suguru Geto- Satoru’s best friend, you’d learned—his presence too. In a shy corner he stood- girls around him, you wouldn’t blame them—he sought that attention after all, evident.

“You like this song?” Your eyes snapped onto Satoru—“Pardon?”

“This song, do you like it?” Your eyes gazed everyone—all the while, his, you.

“I’ve…never heard it before—”

“—well I particularly hate it,” your brows raised—“Oh alright,” you nodded, “I’ll make sure to not add it to the playlist ‘Wedding 2.0’,”

Smiles you both held- not for each other, formal entirely—“Hilarious,” he muttered, “Makes two of us,” you snapped back.

A momentary silence fell and you couldn’t yourself—“Don’t try to play the husband here, you don’t accept me and I don’t accept you which is all but fine by me but I don’t need you to make idle conversations.” Voice sharp- eyes more so.

He grinned—“Feisty Hm?” Your nose flared—“alright I’ll entertain you with the non-idle kind,” eyes looked down at you condescension, was it?

“Daddy raised you as his war general yeah?” Your jaw clenched, “what did they call you? His right arm? His best gem?”

“Domestic abuse,” you began slow, “is a very real concept Satoru,” you smiled dangerously sweet—“Pray tell, the way you speak may make you victim soon,”

He chuckled quietly, nothing humorous, “Daddy also taught you weaponry?”

“Don’t speak of him like that-respect him,” you warned, teeth gritted—both of yours eyes zooming onto him—Satoru smiled.

“Of course, nothing against my father-in-law,” another grin, “But I can say whatever to you right baby?”

You hated him.

Your eyes scanned his, his- yours.

A frown, a grin.

A cough sounded beside you just then—the man just as tall as your husband, just as, if not more so, elegant.

Your eyes met his—a pit, yours and his.

“M’lady,” he smiled smoothly- bending just enough to kiss your hand—eyes cast quick onto Satoru, “One dance with the lady of the night please?”

Never a question, only a statement.

“Yes please,” Satoru muttered all too quick- a sharp glance, yours and Suguru’s.

Before you knew it you were swept right away, Suguru danced faster—a style which complimented yours, Satoru? Quiet the very same as yours, clashing.

You smiled as he picked the momentum with you, a chuckle his too—“You look stunning tonight,”

A nervous smile you passed-“All the very same to you sir,” his eyes crept onto your skin quick—“Why, seems like it’s just the two War Generals appreciating each other,” he laughed.

You laughed along- your eyes pausing to scan the hilt of his dagger in the suit—“Talent sees talent, eh?”

Another laugh- empty. What had swept you off was pleasant, what danced with you was hollow.

“The wedding,” Suguru added—your ears perked.

“Yes?” You reflected instantly—“You helped in the management right?” He smiled—your eyes narrowed.

Bastard, you both mused.

You nodded politely, “Well a good wife has to take care of things yeah?”

He grinned, “Oh you’re all too good m’lady,” voice a whisper, “Seems to me you’ll give me a run for my life,”

You grinned back, “Bless my heart Suguru—never to my family.”

Eyes hollow, minds ran fast—‘Interesting’ you both wondered as Suguru handed you back to his best friend and your husband.

‘Interesting indeed’.

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All of this work is original and entirely my own, please refrain from copying or reposting.

— Taglist: @rizzmin @4sat0ruu @lavendervogh @yooiimiya @gojoismybitch

[prince-liest]

Omg, I just wanted to say I ADORE your characterization of Al and Vox! I don't even have the words to express how much I love reading your stuff, especially the Anon responses you post on here. The behind the scenes thoughts are literally my food, lifesource, its so good when people not only write characters IN CHARACTER, but also include stuff about their analysis/understanding of the character too.. I'm literally obsessed with breaking down characters and yk, cracking their chrome domes open to see how they work (which admittedly, I am not the best at <_< but I love reading them). Just wanted to say how much I love your writing. I had maybe 2 questions, please don't feel pressured to answer them :>

What in your mind (in reference to the 66.6 fics) would motivate Alastor to let Val get close to him in the first place? Or was that more you picking these two characters up by the scruff of their necks and plopping them into a hypothetical scenario to explore their character and write some fun intimate thingsTM?

What do you think of the dynamic of Vox and Al vs something like Lucifer and Al? Personally I've noticed that something Alastor craves, behind the mask of his static smiling persona, is attention. He's (at least how I saw it) usually peeved when people don't care about his absence, and seems especially bothered by the King of Hell refusing to really acknowledge him, so he goes out of his way to push Lucifers buttons (like calling himself a father figure to Charlie, IN FRONT OF HER ACTUAL FATHER LOL) whereas with Vox, Vox is literally CONSTANTLY thinking about Alastor. Man literally interrupted his regular TV program to do a segment about how much he totally didn't at ALL care about Alastors dissapearance or the fact that he returned (suree buddy). So Alastor can have more fun with him and annoy him by ignoring and messing with him on purpose.

ty if you do respond to this, sorry if it was hard to understand, sometimes I forget how to put the thoughts in my brain into coherent words!

Ahhhh, thank you very much, anon! I'm especially happy that you're enjoying my commentary on Tumblr, haha - I spent a while on Twitter because that's where all the fandom zines I was in were being hosted, but nothing beats Tumblr for giving me a nigh-unlimited word count and a captive audience for my rambling! >:D <3 I'm back to cocooning myself on the OG hell site.

Thank you for this ask, it really brightened my day! :D

As for your questions:

1. I'm assuming that was a typo and that you mean Vox (but in case you did mean Val: that was just a funny accident of him walking by the room! Alastor wasn't paying enough attention until it was too late), and to that I say:

I think Alastor allows Vox to take a go at him in canon because he finds Vox's obsession with him to be entertaining, but also because Alastor is kind of a narcissist and that same obsession massively feeds his ego, especially in a political climate that otherwise forgot about Alastor. Vox's whole "Who gives a shit about Alastor coming back?! Haha, now let me have a public meltdown and short out power to the whole city about it! Oh, fuck, why is he back, though?? Can we send a spy in to find out??" is exactly the reaction that Alastor wants every time he mentions his mysterious absence and gets brushed off.

At the same time, Alastor doesn't seem to register Vox as a sincere and genuine threat. He's a big enough fish in the Pride Ring pond that his obsession with Alastor is gratifying, but Alastor's self-absorption also doesn't really allow him to treat Vox as a threat tier above "annoying in a funny way, and also television is stupid." (Perhaps this will change in season 2... :eyes: (or perhaps Alastor will get Even Worse) (please god let him get even worse))

So those two things in combination make Vox the perfect candidate for Alastor to experiment with while maintaining his ego and not feeling particularly threatened. Despite Vox's Safeword 101 talk, Alastor would never put stock into that system with Vox unless he was certain that he himself would be able to back up a 'no' with overwhelming force. Him even considering safewords in the Live On Air! series is less for his own sake and more a politesse he offers on Vox's request to warn Vox to slow the fuck down before Alastor tries to put his insides on the outside.

2. And in direct contrast, we have Lucifer...

... Who Alastor obviously actually cares quite a bit about, because he's a whole nother power tier from both Vox and Alastor, and furthermore and possibly even more importantly, a credible threat to Alastor's relationships and standing in the hotel. I think a lot of discussion I see about Alastor prodding Lucifer seems to talk about how quickly he got annoyed about Lucifer's comments, but that misses the fact that he was pissed off before Lucifer even showed up. He got pissy the moment he saw the welcome sign, actually! And I wager that he was narratively absent for the scene where Charlie actually calls Lucifer because he would have done his best to manipulate her out of doing so had be been there.

And given that the two clearly haven't met before (though obviously Alastor knows of Lucifer - and hates that the inverse isn't true, hah), it's not 100% clear exactly why he's immediately so annoyed, but in my personal view of things and barring something like "he's projecting onto Lucifer because his contract is with Lilith," I think that what we know of Alastor's personality points most strongly to "he liked being the hotel's benefactor and sees it as His Project, and doesn't like the idea that Charlie called daddy for something that she thought mysterious, powerful Alastor couldn't handle." He distracts a lot with obviously-goading comments about practically being Charlie's dad in his duet with Lucifer, but underneath that he puts a lot of emphasis on the work he's done for the hotel and the fact that he's been supporting Charlie and the hotel from the start, so why the fuck is this deadbeat asshole suddenly turning up?!

Tl;dr: Charlie missed her insight roll on Alastor's personal investments and he's sooooo offended - and taking it out on Lucifer!

I think one of my favorite things about both Lucifer and Alastor is that they both sooo obviously belong in the Pride Ring, hahaha.

[piastrinorris]

Happy to Help

Pairing: Keys x f!Reader Genre: smut (18+, minors DNI) Word count: 3.7k Summary: Forgetting you'd spoken to customer support from your favourite game leads to something getting sent to the wrong person. A/N: Listen, I know there's a set-up for potentially more. I would like to write potentially more. But nothing puts a writer off more than demands for a part 2, okay? For now, enjoy my first ever Keys fic. :)

Welcome to Free City Customer Support. We appreciate your patience. Connecting you to a member of our team…

Keys: Hi there! What seems to be the problem today?

You: hi, my screen is like. frozen dead. can't do anything, can't click anything. can't alt-tab out, can't ctrl-alt-delete. but i made a lot of progress between save points and idk if it can still be salvaged

Keys: Oof, yeah, that's the worst. Hopefully we can get you back up and running. Real quick, are you sure it's not your internet? I mean, you seem like you know your way around a computer, just worth double-checking, if it's your network then there's not a lot I can do.

You: yeah, sorry, should have added that. everything else that connects to my internet is working. i have an error message if that helps?

Keys: Yes! That's amazing! Can you send me it, please?

You: it says "error 72816: attempting patch repair"

You: there was a spinning buffering wheel in the corner but it gave up the ghost about twenty minutes ago.

Keys: Interesting. I don't remember making that error message, let alone what would trigger it. Are you sure that's what it says? No typos?

You: you wound me.

You: jk jk sorry this is a Very Professional Customer Support Exchange. no, definitely no typos.

Keys: Hahaha, don't worry, I've read far worse messages from people today, that made me laugh!

Keys: This is a little unorthodox but I'm wracking my brain here and I can't think of another solution. If I give you my work phone number, would you text me a photo of your screen?

Keys: Usually, I'd ask for an email of a screenshot, but, well…

You: yeah sure, whatever gets me out of this purgatory.

Keys: Super appreciate your patience here. My number is: 

Keys: [redacted]

Keys: Okay, got it, deleted the message with my number so it won't show up in chat history, in case you're wondering. Data protection and all.

You: the professional techie guy with the techie-ass nickname being cautious about cyber security? groundbreaking.

Keys: Haha! You got me there!

Keys: Oh! Wait! Are you registered as a beta tester?

You: no?? i didn't know that was a thing??

Keys: Yeah, all ours are internal and I don't recognise your username in our database, now that I've pulled it up. I think you must have just slipped through the cracks, let me look into the code of our new test area and see if I can boot you back out.

You: ooh, are you gonna come bursting in through my door with a swat team to erase my memory, too?

Keys: I'm just a "professional techie guy" here, not a Man In Black, haha. 

Keys: Hey, I see you!

Keys: In this code, I mean.

Keys: It's showing up that there's an unauthorized player.

Keys: That's what I meant.

You: well yeah, didn't think you were in my walls or anything

Keys: Just making sure! Didn't want you really thinking I was stalking you or anything.

Keys: Still don't remember making that error message, but that's another mystery, I guess.

You: ooh, maybe the game's becoming sentient and it's outgrowing us all!

Keys: There's that imagination again!

Keys: I'm gonna reset your position to your safehouse, hopefully also keeping your progress intact? If this doesn't work then a hard reboot is unfortunately the only other way.

You: you're a doll.

You: AHHHH IT WORKED I'M BACK AND I STILL GOT A SICK ASS BIKE WAITING FOR ME IN MY GARAGE

You: THANK YOU SO MUCH AHHHHHH

Keys: Pleasure's all mine, glad I could help. Please reach out if it happens again! Or if you have any other issues!

You: will do. so long, techie guy. thanks for everything!

Keys: Happy playing!

— — — —

It's been a relatively quiet Friday evening for you. Nobody's made any plans to go out, and you're unsure yourself whether you have the energy to. You've pretty much spent your whole day gaming, so you should probably fill your social battery a little, but do you really want to go to a bar by yourself?

You glance over at your phone and smirk at it. There is that guy you've been talking to… Maybe you'll send him something to spice the night up.

Once you've done your hair and make-up to add to the whole look, you find your cutest set of underwear, put it on and take a couple of selfies until there's one you're especially pleased with. Your muscle memory has you tapping three message contacts down, where he always is since you've been texting friends all day, and sending the photo on autopilot with the message: Hey, you.

You giggle with delight when your phone chimes almost immediately after - you've really got this guy whipped, huh - but are surprised to see you've apparently forgotten who else you texted today.

[8:23pm] Keys: OH

[8:23pm] Keys: OH NO

[8:23pm] Keys: I think

[8:23pm] Keys: You've sent this

[8:24pm] Keys: To the wrong person

[8:24pm] Keys: I'm so sorry I saw that!

[8:25pm] You: that's okay, i don't mind that you saw it. :)

[8:25pm] You: besides, burning the midnight oil, still being at your work phone?! don't they have out of hours customer service?

[8:29pm] Keys: I… Might have lied about this being my work phone. I normally have one, but it's getting fixed so I thought I would get away with saying it was a work line to help you out.

[8:30pm] You: and then i went and accidentally sent you an unsolicited lewd. sorry.

[8:36pm] Keys: It was just a shock, is all!

[8:38pm] You: well, since we're both here, and since you haven't deleted the photo yet despite how quickly you deleted your number from the chat log earlier, *and* how long it's taking you to reply, what do you think?

[8:40pm] Keys: Oh god, you're so right, I'm so sorry, I'll delete it now.

[8:40pm] You: don't!

[8:40pm] You: like i said, i want your feedback on it now.

[8:41pm] Keys: Oh! Well, it's very nice.

[8:41pm] You: nice?! ouuuuch.

[8:42pm] Keys: What do you mean? Nice is a compliment!

[8:43pm] You: yeah, from your grandma when you've given her a birthday card. c'mon, i can take it. tell me what you REALLY think. :)

[8:50pm] Keys: I… I think you're very attractive.

[8:51pm] You: there you go! it's super adorable that you're stammering over text, btw.

[9:01pm] Keys: [image attached]

[9:01pm] Keys: It felt weirdly unbalanced that you at least didn't know what I looked like, too.

[9:02pm] You: well damn, no wonder they call you keys, because you are just my *type!*

[9:02pm] You: get it?

[9:03pm] Keys: …That was cheesy as hell.

[9:03pm] Keys: But I like cheese :]

[9:03pm] You: oh yeah? give me your cheesiest pick-up line 

[9:13pm] Keys: Are you made of copper and tellurium? Because you're CuTe!

[9:13pm] You: i award that 🧀🧀🧀/5. you could be cheesier.

[9:19pm] Keys: Okay, fine.

[9:20pm] Keys: Are you Google? Because you have everything I'm searching for.

[9:22pm] You: 🧀🧀🧀🧀. are YOU google because i'm feeling lucky. ultimate cheese has no comeback. c'mon, you're so close.

[9:26pm] Keys: Oof, okay, give me a sec.

[9:28pm] Keys: Although really you should never use Google if you can help it, they already datamine so much information out of you that the less you use any Google product, the safer you are. I use DuckDuckGo myself, but you should really do your own research when it comes to cybersecurity rather than just blindly trust someone, even if they are a professional.

[9:28pm] You: keys.

[9:29pm] Keys: Right. Sorry.

[9:38pm] Keys: If you were a grade, you'd be A+, because I want to take you home and show you to my parents.

[9:39pm] You: okay, that wins. maximum cheese for keys 🧀🧀🧀🧀🧀

[9:39pm] You: next ranking category: 🌶️ 

[9:39pm] You: let's see what you got, hot stuff

[9:45pm] Keys: What?! I can't just send you stuff like that! That's so forward!

[9:46pm] You: keys you've seen my tits

[9:46pm] You: i think we're past that

[9:55pm] Keys: Accidentally!

[9:55pm] You: and all the time you spend scrolling back up to it is "accidental", too?

[9:56pm] Keys: …How could you tell?

[9:57pm] You: every now and then you take a little bit longer between messages. just assuming you're scrolling up lol

[9:56pm] You: like i keep saying. i don't mind at all. you don't have to be shy around me

[9:58pm] Keys: Well, since all my cards are apparently on the table so obviously…

[9:58pm] Keys: Do you work at Subway? Because you just gave me a foot-long.

[9:59pm] You: ????? talk about 0-60! also i think that deserves negative 🌶️ for the psychic damage it caused me to read

[10:00pm] Keys: You just turned my software into hardware.

[10:00pm] You: what happened to "that's so forward", eh?

[10:01pm] You: but, credit where it's due, 🌶️🌶️. normally a 🌶️ but from you it's like a 2.5/5

[10:01pm] Keys: Your outfit would look great on my bedroom floor.

[10:01pm] You: oh

[10:02pm] You: oh my god

[10:02pm] You: oh you sweet boy, you're googling them, aren't you

[10:02pm] You: or whatever you use instead

[10:04pm] Keys: Some of us need the extra help! We're not all as smooth as you.

[10:04pm] You: sure you are, baby, you just need to get comfortable

[10:05pm] Keys: But I'm already on my bed!

[10:05pm] You: not just in that way! try taking something off

[10:06pm] You: and then send me proof 😇

[10:11pm] Keys: [image attached]

[10:11pm] Keys: ;]

[10:12pm] You: taking off your glasses doesn't count, dork!

[10:12pm] Keys: [image attached]

[10:12pm] Keys: like this?

[10:13pm] You: holy fuck

[10:13pm] You: hi you're hot

[10:14pm] Keys: Hahaha, thank you? I still don't feel any more charismatic, though!

[10:15pm] You: well, going back to your line about being like a good grade you wanna take home… does that maybe mean you also want to pin me up on the fridge?

[10:18pm] Keys: Well, the fridge isn't very sturdy. I think I'd rather do that against the wall.

[10:18pm] You: okay now *that’s* hot

[10:18pm] You: and what would you do with me once you'd pinned me to the wall? 

[10:24pm] Keys: I'm not very good at all of the imaginative talk stuff that sounds sexy. Even using the word seems like the total opposite of what I'm trying to do.

[10:25pm] You: not at all, sometimes bluntness is the sexiest thing of all.

[10:29pm] Keys: Well, I'd really like to kiss you. All over, actually. 

[10:29pm] You: *all* over?

[10:31pm] Keys: Yeah. The way you were posing made your neck look amazing.

[10:32pm] Keys: Oh god, now I sound like a vampire

[10:34pm] You: i promise you don't, that was my intention when i took it lol. besides, vampires are sexy as hell. i'd love it if you kissed my neck

[10:34pm] You: would you touch me?

[10:35pm] Keys: Wouldn't I be holding you against the wall?

[10:36pm] You: true, but there's other ways. like, you could put your leg between mine to keep me in place

[10:37pm] You: mmm, and then i could grind against your thigh while you keep this little promise of kissing and touching me *all over*

[10:37pm] You: does that sound good?

[10:41pm] Keys: Oh god yes

[10:43pm] You: and then that leaves my hands free to touch you, too. i wanna play connect the dots with those cute little moles of yours

[10:47pm] Keys: Oh my god

[10:48pm] Keys: that made me want to trace them myself for some reason and that felt so good

[10:49pm] You: you're touching yourself AND not paying attention to grammar anymore? for lil ol' me?

[10:49pm] You: that deserves a reward, i think 

[10:51pm] You: [image attached]

[10:51pm] You: i seem to have lost my bra, come over and help me find it?

[10:58pm] Keys: holy shit 

[10:58pm] Keys: can i just say what i'm thinking and then you can tell me if i'm going to far 

[10:59pm] You: i think you mean *too, nerd boy, but yes, i'd love that

[11:06pm] Keys: sorry typing is getting difficult at the moment

[11:11pm] Keys: i want to hold them so bad. they look amazing, especially with your nipples so hard

[11:11pm] You: when you say typing is difficult, are you touching yourself right now?

[11:12pm] You: because now i'm playing with my nipples and wishing it was you

[11:13pm] You: tell me, baby. you want me to rub them? squeeze them? you wanna come over and suck on them?

[11:17pm] Keys: i want to feel them get hard. want to touch them while i kiss you

[11:17pm] You: attaboy! i knew you had it in you

[11:19pm] You: they're so sensitive now. and humping my pillow as if it’s your leg isn't enough, can i touch myself for you, please?

[11:23pm] Keys: oh god yes please do

[11:23pm] You: are you okay to call? i have a feeling both of us are getting preoccupied now

Your phone lights up with the name "Keys Freecity" and you immediately put it on speaker, letting the phone rest on your pillow next to you. "Well, hey there."

"Uh, hi." His voice is shaking and his breath is hitching.

"You know, you never told me if you were touching yourself or not," you point out.

"I - I am," he stammers out, and you purr back.

"God, I wish I was there to do that for you. Or at least to watch. I bet you look so fucking good right now. What are you thinking about, then, huh?"

"I was, uh… Thinking, about… The way you look up in those photos… And…" He falters out, but you hear the faintest groan, still.

"Aw, you want me to suck you off, baby?" You tease. "Thinking about me looking up at you? My lips wrapped around your cock? Mmm, I bet it's so big I can barely fit, huh?"

"I… I mean, it's not the sandwich I promised earlier, but… It's definitely bigger than… Average," Keys explains, and you don't hold back on the moan that hearing that news elicits from you.

You still laugh softly at his joke. "Yeah, I could tell, baby. Fuck, when are you coming over and splitting me in half already?"

"God, I wish I could," he replies in a strained voice. “Also, it’s really - hot when y- you call me that.”

"Yeah? And how do you like it, baby? You wanna fuck me on my back, so you can keep watching me as you play with me? Or you wanna be the one to lay there and take it while I bounce on your dick? Or d- do you wanna just - bend me over and - fuck me senseless, huh?" As you finally give into temptation, sliding your hand beneath your panties and finally giving your clit the attention it's been craving for far too long, your breath hitches and your voice gets weaker.

“Oh, god, I… All of it, god, please, I don’t care, just want you,” he groans through the phone.

“I want you too, baby, you sound so good,” you croon sultrily, rubbing yourself in faster, tighter circles. “Are you close, hm? Gonna cum for me? I wanna hear you get off so bad.”

“Wanna - wanna get off for yo- with you, want you, please,” he whines.

“Mmm, tell me one more time, baby. What are you thinking of now?” You ask as you sink a finger inside of you. “Thinking of fucking me, yet?”

“Mm - mm-hm,” Keys whimpers. “You - You on top of me, talking like that and - and riding me, treating my cock so good.”

“I’d treat you so good, baby," you groan, adding another finger. "And you'd fill me up, wouldn't you? Fuck me - oh, right there," you whine as you curl your fingers to hit just the right spot. "Oh god, Keys, need you inside me."

Something about you saying his name short-circuits his brain. You just about hear his strained string of moans and profanities through the phone, picturing in your head how that sweet face of his must look - eyes glassing over, lips slightly parted, chest heaving. Maybe you’d fuck him with his glasses on. Maybe they’d be clouded over, knocked askew on his face as you bounced up and down on his dick. “Did you just come for me, baby?” you coo, your shoulders tensing and toes curling as you feel your own release building.

"Mm-hm, yeah, made - made a real mess of myself, shit," he half-laughs with exhaustion.

“That’s my good boy,” you smile dazedly, your core convulsing around your fingers. "Want me to cum for you, too?"

"Oh, shit, you haven- where are my - God, fuck, yes, let me hear you s… Say my name," his voice shakes with the effort he's trying to exude confidence into his tone, betrayed by the immediate, "please," that rolls off his tongue.

Closing your eyes, imagining that look on his face again, pressing your phone flush against your ear as if it pulls him closer to you, you finally leg out an, "Oh, god, Keys!" before finally feeling yourself gush down your fingers, past your hand, even. Breathing heavily, you pant, "Shit, baby, I think you made me squirt."

"Is that a good thing?" he asks meekly.

"Very. You doing good, now?"

"Very!" He repeats back to you, breathlessly, making you laugh. "Sorry I was so… Pathetic, I guess. God," his voice muffles as though he's rubbing his face while he talks. "But it did sound like you were into it a little," he points out with a lilt in his voice.

You grin, "I sure did, but if you wanted to do it again, but more… Confidently, I'd be more than happy to do that again. If you wanted."

"I've never really done… Any of that before, like, at all," he starts, and you interrupt him with a laugh.

"Yeah, no shit, Mr Subway!"

"Ah, like I said, that's not entirely untrue," he laughs awkwardly. "But I've especially never done anything with a total stranger, much less someone I helped through work, um, they can't - you wo- please, don't -"

"You mean this isn't standard practice for Free City customer support?" You tease sarcastically, before adding in a serious tone, "I won't tell a soul. Besides, I like having you as my dirty little secret."

He chuckles, "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah. Maybe the next time you're feeling up to it, we can video call."

"N-Next time?!"

You hurriedly add, "If you wanted, you sounded like you did, if this is the first and last, that's totally -"

"No! I mean, yeah! I mean… If that's… Cool," he stammers.

You smile, "It's very cool. Just gotta be a little more confident. Isn't there something you do when you need that extra boost? Like, surely in the game you gotta be a little more self-assured around trolls and hackers and shit, right?"

He groans, "I was hoping you wouldn't ask about that."

Grinning wickedly, you poke further. "Well, now I have to know. Who are you in the game? Have I ever seen you?"

"I… I play a cop," he admits, sounding as though he'd rather the ground swallowed him whole. "It's usually me and my buddy, and he's - he's a rabbit."

You light up. "Shut the fuck up, you're Dirty Stripper Cop?!"

"Oh god, the players call me that, too?! It's bad enough that Mouser does," he groans in despair.

"No, this is perfect. You just let me know when you’re ready to bring… Dirty Stripper Cop to our little talks, and I’ll be waiting,” you bite back a laugh as you repeat his character’s nickname in the hopes that he’ll still take your offer seriously.

A moment of silence exists between the two of you before he pipes up, “...And what if I still want to talk to you, without… All of this? I mean, if that’s all you want, then I guess, but… I dunno, you still seem really cool, and you made me laugh today, even at work when it felt weird in my cheeks to start smiling. But if this is all you want with -”

The rest of his words get drowned out as you move your phone away from its position to look at your dating app notifications. Keys has apparently not been your only option tonight. And you’ve never been one to commit. But something tells you that this was the best offer you’re getting. And the next one will be. As will the one after that, and that’s not even set in stone, yet. But you’re hoping to guarantee it.

As you return your headset to your ear, he’s still rambling. You cut him off with a simple, “Keys.” He shuts up quickly, and you continue, “I - I meant it. I wanna talk to you again. Maybe more than just this, I dunno, I’m bad at this sorta stuff. But… You’re cute. In more ways than one. And if you wanna keep talking, I’ll try. But that’s all I can promise.”

“That’s enough for me! I’ll, um, I’ll text you in the morning, then? Or is that too soon?”

“I honestly wish I could tell you,” you admit sadly. You hope it gets through to him that your reservations aren’t on his part.

Thankfully for you, he doesn’t seem so keen to give up. “Alright! Well, I suppose I got some cleaning up to do before I get some shut-eye. Um, so I’ll talk to you, tomorrow… At some point. Um, goodnight!”

“Goodnight, baby.”

[anonzentimes]

LONG ASS ASK INKOMING ZEN so its super cold in brazil today so typing is a little hard and there might be weird typos fkshdkjd but

when i was like 14 i had online friends that were also 14 and were into danganronpa but all they talked abt was the flaws of the series and how much they hated the more problematic aspects of it, it was a constant wave of gender discourse and sexuality discourse and nagito is a bad portrayal of mental illnesses and miu iruma is too sexual and this character is bad cause of xyz and that character is bad because of this and that and honestly whatever the fuck else you can argue about this series about, whenever i mentioned that danganronpa seemed fun and id like to get into it my friends would tell me that its not worth it, that the series is fucking horrid that i should run the other way and be glad i never entered the hellhole that is being a danganronpa fan

so thanks to this and like constant fucking weird shit coming out of the hell hole that is the fucking dr fandom on Twitter for like, four whole years I straight up didn't touch the series. a series that I was so fully aware that I would love btw, because i was always into gorey art and i found the art of dr so pretty and the characters had such intresting designs and the pink blood was so cool and i love the killing game genre and the mystery solving aspect, of danganronpa seemed so cool, i did not go near this series with a fucking 10-ft Pole

until literally maybe some months ago at 18 years old a streamer I like said on stream something like "oh yeah danganronpa is fucking awesome im so glad i played it" and I was like fuck it, this guy has high standards, if he likes it it cant be that bad. and so I downloaded trigger happy havoc and i was so pleasantly surprised by it, sure case 2 is a case that exists but like other than that i immediately fell in love with this franchise, i loved almost everything about the game, then i started sdr2 and nagito took over every single part of my brain within 0.2 seconds of gameplay AND DR2 IS SO PEAK JUST IN GENERAL udg was super fucking fun i love touko and komarus relationship and the warriors of hope so much, dr3 was awsome even if i didnt really care for future arc despair hope and 2.5 were awasome the end of drv3 hit me like a truck and it genuenly took me a couple hours to understand that my beloved class 77b wasnt just retconned out of existence and currently im trying to kill executive dysfunction and procrastination and read dr0 and again want to replay dr2 cause my hyperfixated ass would rather play the game when she should be alseep to know what happens next than play it when she isn't too tired to understand whats happening lmao

and after i was done with the series i sat down and thought about how i let 14 year olds on the internet who im not even friends with anymore keep me away from something that now i hold so dear and close to my heart, and i wonder how many people who would love danganronpa will never give the series a chance because not only does the wider interner find it cringe but the fandom constantly tell potential new fans to stay away and act like its the worst midea ever written, the way some people are unable to enjoy what they love without guilt is so sad because not only does it affect them but also others

and this is super personal but i wonder how danganronpa would have impacted me if i got into it back when i found out about it at 14, how much different having danganronpa to hang on to would have made my life when i was burning out at school because i was trying to survive neurodivergency hell with undiagnosed autism and possible adhd

dangabronpa is awsome i love it so so much

YOU JUST MADE ME FEEL SO UNBELIEVABLY YOUNG OH MY GOD. I HEARD ABOUT DANGANRONPA WHEN I WAS 11 I'M PRETTY SURE AHHHH HAHA!!! Overall I think this raises a good lesson that we should trust our guts and from our own opinions on media. Look into things you're curious about, learn if it's worth it yourself, and come to your own conclusions! I feel bad for those who never get to understand Nagito Komaeda, let alone know he exists. This franchise has some negatives but the positives outweigh the issues entirely to me and I wish people gave it more of a chance. dangabronpa is awsome INDEED lmfao.

[schizotypalpd-culture-is]

stpd culttyre is AHHHH IGOOT SOMME SUPPER GOOD CRUYSTALLS WITHH MUUCH IMPORTANCVE !!

igot roose rrquartzs annd iths syjbol is lovve and healiing wihich i rreallt need rightf now annd solme puurple sgemstonne which sooudl wrtely hjelp ne wuth myy calmness annd spirtitauligy iwhich iis grreat cauude help with myy oanic attacks could be grreat !! manifesting no dailly panic att kks !! andd heklpkh me rekinndle my rellationshipp wigh spirityualigy coulld ne awesome !! hoppefullh goves me wannted kin fgeaturs annd a better rellationshioo with ny clown goods !! :oD

allso sorry foor thoing likke thiis this iss juust hhow i actyially typoe i just tried amaskkikg ikr befoore buy correcgtubg all spelling aerroos byt the stppd makes me thinkk/exporess my thougtts eweirlldy annd my hands arge usuallyt qyuite shacvkt annd all over the polace !! also goorww upp nit beihf abhoe to type well stopry !! please donnt tagg ass thyping quiik !!

-‼️‼️

.

[lu3ky777]

I gotta another NTR asks but with Either a Futa Hiyoko or genderbent Hiyoko. Either way she's tired of hajime stealing all of Mahiru's time away from her, who cares if they're dating she was Hiyoko's first looks like she just needs to assert dominance in front of hajime by stealing Mahiru away from him

(Warning, NTR obviously so be advised.)

Genderbent Hiyoko wasn't going to just take this massive insult to the face lying down. Mahiru had clear duties to Hiyoko, help him dress every morning and shower him with praises for his dances (Among other things). But Hajime? She left her duties for God damn Hajime??? He was 50X the man Hajime was and in Hiyokos mind they both needed to be punished. So Hiyoko invited Mahiru to his room and she had better not refuse…

 She did come fortunately~ Hiyoko was waiting for her naked, which caught Mahiru off guard… Especially as she stared at his enormous cock, making her drool~ No- she shouldn't think about that, about how Hiyoko could force her onto her knees and shove that cock down her throat~ Wait- why isn't he dressing himself? I-is this not a mistake- 

Hiyoko had reached Mahiru, closing the door behind her. Hiyoko spoke clearly as he grabbed her ass and groped it with one hand “Onto your knees~” Mahiru had to~ She had to get onto her knees and suck on his balls~ obediently sucking and kissing them as she was obsessed by the pure MASS of it. Hiyoko let her suck for a few minutes before forcing her off “I haven't told you what to do yet!” He groped her breasts with one hand as she shoved the tip against her mouth “Beg for me~” Mahiru stuttered wildly as she tried to speak “Pl-please H-Hiyoko~ Shove that cock in me!!!” 

Hiyoko fucked Mahiru's throat like a fucktoy, thrusting in and out at fast speeds. Choking sounds coming from Mahiru as Hiyoko indulged himself in his revenge, speaking of he needs to invite Hajime over~ “Hey Mahiru, invite that cuck of a bf you have over here~ he needs to know that I'm the boss around here, especially if you~” Mahiru brought out her phone, but due to her mind being melted from the pleasure it took her awhile to finish the text. There were a couple of typos but she didn't care, after all Hiyoko just came a huge load down her throat.

Hajime walked to Hiyoko's door confused, Mahiru wanted to meet him here but he couldn't imagine why. But that became clear to him as he opened the door, he saw what he couldn't unsee. Hiyoko was fucking a naked Mahiru in a mating press, they both were facing him and Mahiru was moaning loudly in a lewd voice that Hajime hadn't heard from her before. Hiyoko was thrusting at extreme speeds with his- fucking enormous cock, Hiyoko smiled evily at Hajime “I'm teaching you a lesson Hajime~ Mahiru is mine~” Hajime was hard at this point as he tried to back away. “Don't you dare try to fucking leave!!! I thought I explained this to you, are you fucking deaf?” Hajime stopped moving, he felt too intimidated by Hiyoko even though realistically he was no threat. 

Hiyoko had fucked Mahiru in front of Hajime for an hour straight before cumming deep into her pussy, then he got up still hard and walked over to Hajime “Strip Hajime” Hajime did so obediently, showing off his tiny cock which Hiyoko laughed at “Tiny Hajime~ can't believe she picked that over this~” He shoved Hajime onto his knees, forcing him to stare down his cock. Then he stepped on him until he bowed down to him, he cackled at him. Mahiru had limped over to him, Hiyoko kissed her deeply while groping her freckled plump ass.

 He spanked it hard, still with one foot on Hajime. Hiyoko then brought Mahiru in front of him, both her feet on Hajimes back as he began to fuck her ass hard. “AHHHH~ HIYOKO~~~” Hiyoko spanked her “What did I tell you to call me?” She kept moaning “MASTER~~~” Hiyoko fucked her ass like it was a replaceable pillow, he moaned out as he loved her ass. Hajime had came already, despite the situation he was quite aroused. 

Hiyoko fucked her extremely hard, he thrusted at speeds unimaginable. He continued this ruthlessly fucking for hours as Hajime eventually fell unconscious. Hiyoko came in her ass, then he backed away smiling wide “Mahiru, you'll make a great harem girl~” Mahiru giggled as she walked over to him “Thanks~ I'll always be here for you~” Hiyoko made out with her as they weren't yet done with fucking that night, both had forgotten about Hajime.

[youaintnothinbuta]

AHHHH!!!

I was the anon who requested the race x reader and it was so good! if you wouldn’t mind making a part two, I wouldn’t be opposed… ❤️

So happy you liked it!!! Thank you sm for requesting, means the world to me <3

Summary: you and race meet for the second time, what could be considered your first date (and share your first kiss)

Pairing: fem!reader x Racetrack Higgins

Word count: 950

Warnings: none. Fluff. Probs typos/grammatical errors.

Request something here !

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You found yourself waiting outside the bakery, your tummy churning with anticipation after you lied to Spot about where you were going, just because you didn’t want him on your back (or Race’s for that matter).

The afternoon sun warmed your skin as you stood with your back leant against the window of the bakery, fiddling with the edge of your skirt. You began to wonder if he’d even show up at all, trying to hide your uncertainty from passer-by’s who might think you’re lost. Just as you were about to give up hope, a familiar voice broke through your thoughts.

“Well, fancy findin' you here,” Race's voice came from the opposite way you were looking, accompanied by a playful grin.

You straightened up, your heart racing a bit faster than before, and a warm smile spread across your face as you met Race's gaze. You were seeing him in broad daylight for the first time, up close, too. He was even more pretty than you thought.

“What’sa matter, cat got your tongue?”

You averted your gaze to the ground for a second, smiling, before looking back up at him. “No, you just are pretty.”

He paused for a moment. Pretty? Not the manliest compliment he’d ever received, yet, perhaps one of his favourites.

“Pretty, huh? I reckon that's a first. Did you get me flowers too?”

“Last time I compliment you, asshole,” you laughed, “We heading to Prospect or what?”

“Sure.” Race smiled, pulling a cigar out his pocket and popping it in his mouth.

As the pair of you walked towards Prospect Park, you joined a large group of people, all waiting to cross a busy road. Race, not giving it even a second of thought, instinctively took your hand in his, keeping you close to him as you crossed the road. Butterflies fluttered around in your tummy as he did so. As you wandered into the park, well away from the large mass of people and crowded streets, neither one of you wanted to let go. Just for a moment though, his grasp loosened, his fingers releasing yours, as your palms had gotten slightly sweaty.

You both found a quiet spot under a tree, sitting down on the grass. The nature surrounding you muffled the distant city hum, making for quite the relaxing scene.

“Spot know you’re with me?” Race asked, pulling at the grass in front of him.

“Nah. If I told him he’d insist on chaperoning.”

“Sneakin’ around to see me, huh?” Race teased, his cheeky grin plastered across his face.

“So are you!” You smiled, his charm yet again making your cheeks flush pink.

Race chuckled, leaning into you. Before you knew it, before you could even slightly process what seemed to be happening in both slow motion and double time, he pressed his lips to yours, gently kissing you. You smiled against his lips briefly, as he broke the kiss.

“Can't argue with that.” He smiled as he pulled away from you. The world seemed to stand still for a moment, your heart racing as you took in what had just transpired. Your lips tingled from the touch of his, a warmth spreading through you as his eyes stayed fixed on you.

The sun was now setting, he leant back, laying down on the grass. You joined him. He reached his arm around your body, encouraging you to lay on his chest. You did so, scooting over so your head was resting on his shoulder. Race's steady heartbeat beneath you provided a calming rhythm. His fingers drew soothing patterns on your tummy and side, and you let yourself relax completely against him.

Eventually, as the sun was just about to dip below the horizon, Race's voice broke the silence. “We should probably start gettin’ you back.”

You lifted your head slightly, looking at him with a mix of reluctance and understanding. “Yeah, I guess.”

He sat up, extending a hand to help you up. The two of you stood and brushed the grass off your clothes, a smile passing between you that spoke volumes. As you both began to walk back, your fingers intertwined once more. The sun had nearly set, casting a warm and hazy glow over the city streets as you made your way home.

As you walked side by side, Race pulled a new cigar from his pocket and placed it between his lips, his ever-present grin never fading. He then reached into his pocket and handed you a piece of candy with a wink. You looked down at it in your hand and raised an eyebrow in question.

“Where’d you get this?” you asked.

“About 20 feet back there,” Race replied with a casual shrug.

Realisation dawned on you, and you shot him a disapproving look. “Race!”

He met your gaze with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Get used to it, sweetheart.”

You sighed, shaking your head, but you couldn't hide a hint of amusement. You opened up the candy wrapper, undoubtedly stolen from a vendor's stall along the way.

“Here’s good, Race,” you stopped him walking any further, “I don’t want Spot to see us.”

“Okay,” he chuckled, pulling you into a hug, “goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight, Race. Get back safe.” you whispered, feeling a flutter in your chest as his arms wrapped around you. His scent enveloped you as you nestled into his embrace.

“I will. See you soon.” He kissed your cheek. And with that, he turned and walked away, the sound of his footsteps gradually fading. You watched him go until he disappeared around the corner, a soft smile tugging at your lips, before walking the couple more streets to where you knew Spot would be.