#they're messed up in two very different ways

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

Okay, imma be real? I think this fandom gets way too upset over characterization differences between books (this'll be a long one just let me explain).

I see a lot of posts in the WOF fandom about how certain characters got ruined in the next books or how their characterizations were completely screwed over. A lot of posts also are like, "Oh, Tui messed up X character in this book so badly!" Or "All their personality has changed in this book, what happened to my favorite character?" and so on like that.

This kind of thing, ESPECIALLY after rereading the series recently, then coming back to the fandom, pisses me off to NO END for a couple of reasons.

1. Tui wasn't "ruining" your favorite characters personality in the next book, because the focus of the next book wasn't the character in question. The spotlight is on another character entirely, and trying to micromanage THAT many personalities to their truest form is INCREDIBLY difficult.

2. Plotting out character personalities is a GRUELING process, coming from someone who does a lot of writing. ESPECIALLY if it's original characters, because then you can't just pull from fandom or canon, you gotta do that shit yourself. And over the course of the canon, their personality is gonna change!

This brings me to my last point and probably the biggest reason:

3. EVERY BOOK IS FROM A DIFFERENT PERSPECTIVE.

This has been a STAPLE of the Wings of Fire books from the VERY BEGINNING. With every new book, we as readers are jumping from one dragon's mental space to the next, learning about their traits and quirks and how they perceive the world around them, every single time we pick up the next book in the series. It's what helps give us those deeper insights into the characters that yall get so angry about when they aren't immediately represented in the next book, when that dragon is no longer our spotlight.

Also, when we are learning about the other dragons before we jump to their perspectives, the character that we are reading about is already making assumptions and assigning traits that they think correlate with the character in question! We are seeing the world through their eyes and thoughts, so when we move to another perspective, that dragon is doing the exact same thing, even though now we know more about one of the other characters!

And then the fandom gets hissy when the first character gets relegated into the background and assigned some base personality traits, even though that's exactly what happened before.

Personally, I think the ones who suffer from this the MOST are Clay in Arc 1 and Moon in Arc 2. Clay, according to fans, gets boiled down to nothing but his love for food, even though we see in his, Sunny's, and Peril's perspectives that he's more than that. His behaviors also directly correlate to why he gets that kind of background trait (although that's a whole other rant), and every time I see someone saying that Clay got screwed over by characterization, I take psychic damage.

And Moon. God, yall, Moon gets it THE WORST FROM YOU. I've seen SO MANY POSTS about how she got boiled down to nothing but a love triangle piece in the later arcs, which is only partly true, but we also see from ALL OF THOSE PERSPECTIVES (Qibli and Winter specifically) that the traits they're assigning her are both different aspects of how her character worked in the first book and what two lovestruck, moons-blinded dumbasses are seeing and choosing to view her as.

Her book even SHOWS how much of a NIGHTMARE it would be to have every character be deep and know their inner thoughts at all times. Moon herself gets mentally and physically overwhelmed near CONSTANTLY during the majority of her book, and I'm not even technically factoring in Darkstalkers' influence.

All of that to say, Wings of Fire fandom, is to stop losing your SHIT over how your characters might seem flat or not like they were in their books. All of these perspectives are different, and if you motherfuckers actually took some time to reread the books while actively LOOKING for those hints of your silly guys being the same silly guys, just from another dragon's POV, then maybe yall wouldn't be so pissed off about characterization in the books nearly HALF as often.

I don't even care how much discourse this is gonna spark I just felt the incredible urge to tell yall to use those skills you learned in English class and chill the FUCK OUT on this topic.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk. Now go use your eyes :>

.

[theloveoffootball10]

sᴛɪᴄᴋᴡɪᴛᴜ - ᴛ ᴡ ᴇ ɴ ᴛ ʏ ɴ ɪ ɴ ᴇ

m a s t e r l i s t

ᴛ ᴡ ᴇ ɴ ᴛ ʏ ɴ ɪ ɴ ᴇ

Falling asleep and waking up with Lando are probably two of my favourite things in the world. The warmth of his body next to me. His arm lazily resting across my hip. His soft snores when he's not talking in his sleep. It all feels very normal. When we're in bed like this he's just Lando. He's not the formula one driver everyone loves to have an opinion about. He's just my Lando.

"You have that look on your face what you pull when you're thinking. What's on your mind?" Lando mumbles one eye half open.

"You. I just love when we're like this. It's just us and there's no expectations. I get to just enjoy being with you and no one needing your attention for anything else" I knew what I was getting into with Lando, I've never been oblivious to that but when so many people demand his attention for media or fans or whatever it may be on a daily basis I appreciate being able to have these moments alone.

"I know you aren't a morning person but it's nice to just relax and not have a reason to get out of bed. It's been amazing having you in Monaco, I didn't realise how much I needed it until you were stood in my apartment. It wasn't a hotel. It wasn't a motor home or drivers room. It's my home and that means more to me than anything else".

"Lando I'll be here as much as you want me to be here. I've loved being here with you as well. It just feels like it's meant to be. I would love to stay in bed with you but we have a busy day. I need to arrange everything for Liv and Max's gender reveal" after brainstormings for a few hours I came up with what I think is the perfect way for them to find out if their baby is a boy or girl. I have the envelope so I could technically look but I want to find out with them.

"I still can't believe they're having a baby its wild"

"I know! Who would have thought them meeting in Belgium would lead to this. I need to shower and get ready for today I'll be as quick as I can" walking into Lando's bathroom I lock the door knowing Lando is likely to follow me. Normally I'd happily share a shower with him but I am a woman on a mission today. I loosely curl my hair and apply my make up in the bathroom before opening the door to allow Lando in.

"Fuck me baby you look stunning" Lando looks genuinely surprised at my appearance and I have no idea why. I've done nothing different.

"Thanks babe. You seem surprised" I stand leaning against the door frame of the bathroom as Lando brushes his teeth.

"I'm not surprised, you always look stunning but there's just something about the way you look today" feeling Lando pick me up and throw me over his should I can't help but laugh as I'm thrown on the bed "I need you. You've given me a semi just looking as good as you do"

"Lando..." I can't even argue as I feel Lando's lips on mine. He's always affectionate but I don't know what has got into him today.

"Baby I just need to eat you out" who turned my boyfriend into a teenage boy? Feeling my legs spread and my underwear pulled to the side I don't stop Lando. I have a list as long as my arm to do today but I want this from Lando as much as he wants to give it.

"Please Lando, I need you" my words are all it takes to feel Lando's fingers tracing my slit and his tongue teasing my clit. He's holding me down with his spare hand leaving me a moaning mess on the bed underneath him.

"You two are so loud when you start" Liv says to me as we're stood in Lando's kitchen ready to leave and my cheeks heat up with embarrassment "it's a wonder that I'm the pregnant one not you"

"I'm so sorry. You didn't need to hear any of that" I would say it'll never happen again but I'm never going to be quiet when Lando is giving me multiple orgasms with his fingers and tongue alone.

"It's nice to see you so in love so I'm not going to complain just don't wake me up when you're so loud and we're good. Plus Lando had let us stay here so I can’t complain" Liv says with a laugh knowing I'm dying inside. We all know it happens but no one wants to hear anyone having sex.

"Are you okay driving? You know where we're going and I know you hate when I drive" I ask Lando as he joins us in the kitchen knowing how dramatic he is when I drive us anywhere.

"Yeah I'm driving. I don't think I'd survive a car journey in Monaco with you" rolling my eyes I hand Lando the keys to his Lamborghini Urus so we can all travel together.

"Okay drama queen. Liv are you both ready?" I ask picking my phone and bag up knowing we need to leave soon.

"Yeah we're both ready. I'm nervous to find out" Liv tells me as we walk to the car and I can only imagine how she feels.

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" I ask knowing everyone usually has a preference.

"I honestly don't think I'm bothered Lucía. I think I'll be happy with either but I know Max would love a boy but I think that's just a man thing isn't it? Did you look in the envelope?"

"Nope. I was tempted but then I changed my mind. I want to find out with you and Max" our conversation continues as Lando drives us through the streets of Monaco towards Monte Carlo golf club. I know Liv and Max are both confused as no one is dressed for golf and neither of the boys have their golf clubs.

"Are we playing golf mate? You could have said!" Max is gutted I can tell.

"Max he didn't know. I only told him when we left the apartment where we were going. He has no idea what I have planned" I can't let Max blame Lando for the lack of golf prep considering he didn't know. Today isn't about them playing a round of golf.

As Lando parks the car we pile out and into a golf cart. I may have had to pull the Alonso card and possibly the Lando card to pull this off but it's going to be worth it. The golf club have closed a section of the course for us that is out of everyone else's way. I want this to be about our friends, not people realising Lando is at the golf course.

"Why are you driving?" Lando asks expecting me to let him drive the golf cart "You're never allowed to drive when we're together"

"You drove here but now I'm the only one who knows where we need to be" I say with a shrug as I drive us around the course.

"This is almost criminal driving around the course and not playing a round of golf" Max complains as we pass every hole on the course.

"Max don't complain, you have no golf clubs with you. We're here for a purpose" I say pulling up to the quietest spot on the golf course where the team have absolutely nailed my vision in such a short space of time.

I didn't want anything too over the top but the small set up of a golf cart cut out, pink and blue balloons with a backdrop reading 'boy or girl with will our caddy be?' Is perfect. It's big enough for us to make a celebration but not too over the top when it's only the four of us here. The views behind us are incredible of the sea in the distance and the sun is shining.

"This is perfect! It looks so good! Lucía you've pulled this off to a point I didn't think you would! I was thinking just a balloon with confetti when I asked you to arrange something"

"Liv I've never done things by halves, I'm not about to start now" walking behind the back drop I grab the golf club that is now engraved with 'baby Fewtrell' handing it to Max "you have a few practice shots first then the golf ball printed with the baby footprints is the one that has coloured powder in it. I have my phone on the tripod recording, go ahead whenever you're both ready" leaving Max and Liv to have a few moments with each other I feel Lando wrap his arms around me from behind.

"You've done amazing to pull this off. It looks incredible, we're all lucky to have you in our lives you know that right?"

"I've only done what Liv would have done for me if it was the other way around. What do you think, boy or girl?" I turn my head to look at Lando as I'm stood in his arms. I know regardless he's going to be an amazing uncle. He's already amazing with Mila and Athena and they adore him.

"I think girl. I can see Max being a girl dad but I know he'd love a boy as well"

"I think boy but you know my thoughts on girls" I say with a laugh as we join Liv and Max who are ready for their moment.

"Go on mate it's your chance to shine" Lando tells Max as he lines up the ball. He takes a few practice swings away from the ball before getting into position with Liv by his side. As the golf club hits the 2 inch ball I scream with joy in Lando's arms as blue power explodes around us.

"No fucking way!" Max and Liv both shout as they embrace in a hug. Our best friends are having a baby boy!

"I'm so happy for you!" I say hugging Liv then Max once they pull away from each other.

"I wanted a boy so bad I didn't want to admit it. I almost convinced myself it was a girl so I wasn't disappointed if I ended up having a girl" Liv tells us as we take in the blue power spread across the green below us "honestly Lucía I'm so thankful you arranged this for us. It's been perfect. I can't wait to share the video with my mum"

“Her and Noah are going to be so happy” hugging Liv I try not to cry and ruin my makeup. I didn’t realise just how happy I could be for someone.

A few days later we’re in Austin and it’s media day. My time in Monaco has gone so quickly I almost don’t want to return to the UK after the race. Lando and I have fallen into a perfect routine together and call me insane but I could see myself living with him. I know I have to go home after this weekend as much as I don’t want to but right now I’m joining Lando for the interviews that are open to fans.

Standing at the back of the room I want to keep out of the way and let Lando’s fans get closer to the front but I still want to be here. I’m savouring every minute I have left with him and that means being by his side at all times except when he’s in the car. As the interviewer fires quick this or that questions at Lando one in particular catches my attention.

"Do you prefer blondes or brunettes?" The interviewer asks Lando oblivious to the fact I'm in the audience.

"Blondes" Lando says with a slight laugh barely able to get his words out before the crowd around me goes wild "my girlfriend is blonde and she's in the audience so I have to say blonde or she'll kill me" this is the first time Lando has said in public that he has a girlfriend which sends the audience into meltdown and I can't help but smile at him from my place at the back of the room. A few fans have realised I'm stood where I am and smile at me but my eyes are on the man at the front of the room. My man.

“And is it true your girlfriend is Fernando Alonso’s daughter?”

“Yeah it’s true, Lucía is Fernando’s daughter” I’m interested to see where this interview is going considering it’s taken a detour from rapid fire questions.

“How does he feel about you being in a relationship with his daughter?” Talk about digging for an exclusive! Lando already knows I’m happy for him to talk about me in public but I can tell by the look on his face he doesn’t want to give too much away. We’re both enjoying our relationship as it is and we don’t want anything to change.

“He’s happy for me. I think. He hasn’t pushed me off track yet which is a good thing I guess” Lando explains making the crowd in front of him laugh. He’s got them on a string. He could say anything and they’d believe him “I’ve known Fernando a long time and I’ve always looked up to him. Hopefully he knows by now I’m a good person and will always treat Lucía with the love and respect she deserves”

“You sound like the kind of guy every dad wants for their daughter”

“I have my flaws just ask Lucía she’ll give you a list” Lando says with a laugh as he winks at me. Never mind the audience being held on a string, the man has me hanging on his every word. As the interview wraps up Lando works his way around the room taking photos with the fans until he gets to me.

“I love you y’know”’ I say wrapping ay around Lando’s neck kissing him softly.

“I know and I love you”

landonorris

Like by esmelucia, mclaren and 785,993 others

landonorris LFG! Austin I’m coming for ya 🇺🇸

View all comments

esmelucia if anyone wondered what it's like to be on your knees for Lando its a similar view to this 🤤

↪️ landonorris seriously Lu 😅

↪️ esmelucia I'm so fucking horny

↪️ landonorris you're the only one

oscarpiastri I have a girlfriend and you two make me feel single

↪️ esmelucia sucks to be u

user93 Lando and Lucía quoting Sabrina Carpenter to each other is iconic!

↪️ user68 imagine the bed chem between them!

↪️ emselucia it's even better than in my head

↪️ user93 what an absolute queen!

• • •

This isn’t proof read and it’s shockingly bad but I’m sorry it’s taken forever for me to post. I’ve been so busy I haven’t had time to sit and write 🫣

[ace-s-fav-dp-posts]

Currently cooking up an AU heavily inspired by the magical girl concept.

And I am going ahead and making Danny a girl in this AU.

Her name is Danae, pronounced exactly the same as Danny.

Yes it's because I think Vlad hearing "Danny" and being convinced it's short for Danielle, is funny.

Mostly because I've also loved the AU that Maddie isn't short for Madeline but some other name, like Madison, since I was 14 myself.

I've just always thought it suited Vlad's character, and his more or less parasocial (remember they haven't seen each other since the Vlad's accident before the 20 year reunion happens, this is 100% parasocial) obsession with Maddie that her real name doesn't actually matter to him.

He loves her as an object, a prize to be one and then flaunted/hoarded as the mood strikes him.

We know this from the episode where Danny goes back in time to mess with Vlad's accident, and Vlad ends up married to Maddie.

Because unlike Maddie and Jack who're ecstatically happy and ridiculously in love with each other even after 20 years.

Maddie Masters is unhappy in her marriage and constantly lies to her husband, and Vlad is completely dismissive of Maddie's continued interest in ecto-science and pressured her into giving it up.

Personally I love it when the nickname actually comes from her middle name, and her first name is something completely different like Amelia.

But she's gone by Maddie for most of her life because Amalia and Alicia (her older sister) sound pretty similar, and both start with the same letter, and end with the same two letters. And she was sick of getting called Alicia by teachers who'd previously had Alicia as a student.

[Can you tell me and my older sister have very similar sounding names, that start with the same letter, and end with the same two letters. And I spent most of elementary school getting called her name by teachers.]

But enough about Vlad's misogyny and inability to view women as anything more than objects. Back to the AU I was originally talking about.

Magical girl Danae.

Who I can't decide if I want her magical girl alter ego to be Phantom. Considering in canon how Phantom operates is 100% based on superheroes, and not magical girls.

With all of Phantom's abilities being treated as superpowers and not magic, and the use of scientific gadgets to supplement where said superpowers don't suffice.

I'm honestly leaning towards Phantom being like part of all the names of those in the magical girl group.

Like with Sailor Moon all their magical girl names have Sailor in them, or with the Star Guardians they're all Star Guardian Blahblahblah.

So Danae's magical girl name is Phantom Infinity, but most people only know her as Phantom, until other magical girls going by Phantom start showing up.

[Phantom Infinity is in reference to both Danae's love of Space, and her status as a being of protection of both the Infinite Realms and her home dimension.]

Danae however is still 100% a halfa, and remains the only 'turned' halfa other than Vlad himself. The others who join the Phantoms, aren't half ghosts.

They're magical girls by way of more stereotypical magical girl methods. IE being given power by an exterior force in order to fight to protect peace.

Anyways, yes, Danae does eventually gain the ability to turn people into magical girls. If, they're ecto contaminated to a certain level, and the person's personal ecto doesn't conflict with what Danny does to turn them into a magical girl.

Said magical girl gains magical girl powers an a transformation, but they don't get ghost abilities. At least not most of them.

Like Sam becomes Phantom Arcadia (she successfully fought off Undergrowth's claim on her, but adding Danae's own claim to her keeps him from ever being able to try it again as long as Danae's claim remains in place), Valerie is Phantom Athene (she joins the Phantoms after she learns the truth about Cujo, and Axiom Labs, and ghosts in general, which allows for Danae to transform her into a magical girl. Which also keeps Valerie from being at the mercy of Technus again), Paulina is Phantom Wondrous, and Star is Phantom Songstress.

As Aracdia Sam obviously has powers over plants, but also has a soothing aura towards animals in general. She doesn't command them into battle, because she's not comfortable enough to even try something like that, but she does influence them into wanting to leave the area of the battle.

Her powers are best described as influence (possibly even outright control) over the natural world. Her colors are purple with green and black accents.

Athene (Valerie) still has access to all of the ghost hunting gear like blasters that the suit Technus infused with her body. It's infused with her body after all. However it's not as anti-hero tech-y as it used to be, instead reformed and reshaped by her new magical girl magic.

Her powers is best explained as weapon manifestation. Her colors are now shades of Orange with no red (Red was chosen by Vlad, not Valerie), with black and yellow accents.

Valerie is one of the team who can fly, due to her having a bio-suit before becoming a magical girl.

Wondrous (Paulina) had no real influence from a specific ecto-being before her transformation, so her powers are based entirely on her own personality.

This being attention manipulation, the ability to move and shift an opponents attention how she wants. Most easily being able to pull it towards herself, but can also push someone's attention away from her, even to the point she more or less disappears from their perception. Her colors are primarily pink with blue accents.

Songstress (Star) is much like Paulina in that her powers are rooted in no one else but her own personality. Her powers are (obviously) based around music.

When first starting out they thought the extent of it was being able to influence the emotions of her opponents (which is pretty powerful when fighting ghosts), but the more they experimented the more they found she can do. She can sing songs that have different effects based on intention. Songs that heal, songs that make people sleep. It's eventually discovered that singing a song with someone else in a duet or as a group will boost the other person's own powers.

Her colors are blue with pink and orange accents.

Infinity's (Danae) ghostly powers are mostly the same to canon Danny's powers with a few exceptions/tweaks.

Primarily being that instead of sending blasts of energy out of various body parts (hands, fingers, eyes) Infinity manifests a magical girl wand and uses that as a conduit by default.

Which essentially placebo's her brain into thinking she can't use her powers without her wand summoned, which does prevent most of the embarrassing accidents and power mishaps Danny has in canon. But also fully locks her out of using her powers without her wand before meeting Vlad and learning he's also a halfa.

The other being a power (obviously) unique to her in this AU, this being Appointer of Champion(s). The power to give someone else a portion of her own power/energy, with certain rules and restrictions applied to it.

Which actually within this AU calls her to gain the same power classification as Desiree, who's a Wish Granter. This being the Bargainer classification, ecto beings who use deals of varying types to gain power by way of spending power.

Anyways Tucker can't be made a magical boy because he's a reincarnate soul who's thousands of years old.

And Duul Aman isn't going to give up he's accumulated power he'll be able to access once he's back in the afterlife, all so his current mortal lifetime can coast on some infant's power.

Boy has to man up and learn sorcery the old fashion way he did the first time around. (So Says Duul Aman. Who'd love to angrily shake his scepter and tell all these upstart brats to get off his lawn.)

Jazz can't be made a magical girl because she's extremely liminal, and has been so longer than Danae's been alive. She has a personal ecto signature that's too potent and too established for Danae to turn her without possibly wrecking her health in the process. So she remains a sci-fi action girl who uses the Peeler.

Anyways if you couldn't tell this is also based around those AUs were Danny, and Tucker were friends with Paulina, Dash, and Star back in elementary school.

But they have a falling out, or rather Dash and Tucker have a falling out, and the girls are made to pick sides. Over an accident, which boils down to Tucker tripping during lunch and spilling his food on Dash. Making him have to go to the office to change his clothes, resulting in multiple people asking if he'd had an accident (peed his pants).

Originally Danae tried to do her best to play mediator, while Star just wanted everything to blow over because it's not a big deal, but Paulina sided with Dash.

And someone openly siding with him just made him get louder and more insistent that he's right in the situation (even though it was a dumb argument over an accident). Escalating into him intentionally dumping his tray on Tucker the following day, in order to "make things even".

Which Tucker didn't appreciate at all, and went as far as to declare him and Dash not friends any more. Because Dash did this on purpose, while Tucker did it on accident.

Danae, having known Tucker her whole life and being fiercely loyal, instantly sided with him.

Paulina was of the opinion that Dash dumping the food on Tucker made things fair because both boys ended up humiliated and having to go change. So she thinks Tucker ending their friendship over it is a complete over reaction.

While Star was of the opinion that Dash intentionally dumping his food on Tucker was going over the line, and he should have just let it go. But also that Tucker immediately ending his friendship with Dash over getting food dumped on him was too far.

Considering Tucker was telling Dash that people would forget about him having to change his clothes in a few days and how it didn't matter. But it did matter. It mattered to Dash. Who Tucker inadvertently humiliated and didn't really sincerely apologies to.

Star eventually ends up remaining friends with Dash and Paulina. Because Tucker tells Danae that because Star didn't side with them, she sided with Dash, and if Danae keeps being friends with Star he doesn't want to be friends with her anymore either.

[The kids are like 6-7 year olds when this happen, and it happens over the course of a single school week.

By the end of the school year, Tucker's completely forgotten he'd ever said anything like that to Danae. Mostly because he never would have actually followed through with it, he was just angry.

Danae is basically his sister, he's known her his whole life. He'd never be able to just end his friendship with her the way he could with Dash, Paulina, and Star, who he'd only started hanging out with that school year. Danae isn't blood, but she's as good as, as far as the Foley family is concerned.

Heck Tucker barely even remembers the three-ish months where he was friends with Paulina, Dash and Star. Most of what he remembers is the blow out fight that ended it, and in his mind, the three of them ending up as A-lister bullies in high school only makes sense to him.

If you can't tell being the reincarnation of an ancient pharaoh who was worshiped as a living god by his subjects, along with being a doted upon single child as his current reincarnation, has resulted in Tucker being a bit self-centered in general. He's not evil though, just deeply flawed.]

A situation that results in Dash, Paulina, and Star hating Tucker for a pretty long while. Star mostly lets it go, but remains bitter over it. While Paulina and Dash are never really able to let go of their anger. It's a massive part of why Dash bullies Tucker specifically so much, and why Tucker, and Danae by association, end up as social outcasts.

So Paulina and Star get brought in after her and Danae start repairing their friendship. Dash gets kind of locked out of the dynamic for a pretty long while, under the guise of it all being "girl stuff".

Star befriended Valerie back in Middle School, while Dash befriended Kwan, which is how Valerie and Kwan end up as part of the A listers. With Star and Valerie ending up best friends, and Dash and Kwan ending up as best friends.

Tucker never really rebuilds any kind of friendship with Paulina, Star, or Dash. They can eventually work together without constantly insulting each other, but it takes a while.

Tucker doesn't even remember being friends with them in the first place. Only clearly remembering how said relationship ended, and just assumes they were probably crappy friends considering how they act now. So he's completely disinterested in trying to build a friendship with them beyond the potential for popularity.

Dash finds Tucker the most irritating guy in the world. Considering that for the few months they were friends, he considered Tucker his best friend. When they originally had their blow out fight, Dash spent basically the rest of that school year convinced he and Tucker would patch things up and be friends again by the following school year.

That's half the reason why Dash held the grudge for so long. The other half being that he heard from Star that Tucker basically forced Danae to stop being their friend.

Anyways this post got way too out of hand, and I have to stop it now or I'll never be done with it.

[dilfismz]

For the birthday request thing (Also happy birthday! Hope it goes well ^-^)

Perhaps Art in heat? And it would be something he wouldn't have experienced before meeting reader so they're both confused by his desperation

Could funny and almost soft in one way but also could be completely opposite, up to you lmao

Blood Lust

Description: Art wasn’t typically the type to feel the carnal need for anything besides killing. However, when he first experiences his partner’s period he has a whole different kind of blood lust.

Warnings: period sex, blood, cunnalingus, Art himself is a warning, creampie, mentions of violence/death, unprotected sex.

A/n: I kinda took this in a different direction but it’s similar… hope you enjoy :)

Domesticity is a state of mind, you’ve learned to tell yourself. Some would define a domestic life as one spent with their partner, a plush freshly mown backyard, two golden retrievers, and breakfast in bed. It’s funny…you used to crave that but now your version of a romantic night is one where your partner hasn’t completely dirtied your white sheets with blood.

Art would often be out “working” until well past your self assigned bed time. He’d often sneak in, watch your slumbering form, and then finally dart under the covers. About 80% of the time he wouldn’t care to change out of his “work clothes”, causing you to wake up to quite the mess. You couldn’t complain, at least it wasn’t your blood staining the bed. At least…not always.

Alas, Art was a complicated man after all. You sometimes wonder if he was even a man at all. Scratch that, it was blatant he wasn’t but it’s all irrelevant anyway.

Sure, he’d engage in intimacy but it’s still something that is confusing and very much nonessential to him. He had his screwed up turn ons and you knew that. You accepted it. In fact, you even learned to relish in it. However, due to the stigma surrounding menstruation, you never thought Art wouldn’t mind your period.

It all makes sense really. Of course he would indulge in you more this time of the month. Art is a killer after all…and possibly a cannibal you often suspected. You didn’t like to think about that.

He wasn’t consistently around either. He’d come and go at his own leisure and you accepted this. That’s why he hadn’t experienced you on your period until well into your…“relationship”.

He strolls into your house as usual (you’d given him a key a while back), dropping his infamous trash bag by the door. Something about the ambiance of your home was different. Art’s heightened senses detect a tinge of iron in the air. One similar to the smell often brought on by the slaughter of various victims. Art’s curiosity peaks as the smell gets stronger the closer he gets to your room.

He stands in the doorway, head cocked as you sit in bed groaning. Although he lacks empathy something tells him it would be a good idea to check on you. He slowly walks to the side of your bed, bottom lip jutting out past the top, his version of “are you okay?”.

You notice the familiar black and white figure, wincing in embarrassment. He looks confused…were you really about to explain menstruation to a demon?

“Oh Art I’m not hurt or anything I’m just on my period.”

He cocks his head and quirks a brow, signaling for you to go on.

You scoff and roll over to your side, now facing him. “Once a month women she their uterine lining, causing them to bleed from their vagina. Unfortunately the process can also be painful and cause cramps, headaches, and other things”, you bluntly blurt out.

Art gets the gist of your mini lecture, slowly nodding his head. Truthfully, the only thing he cared to understand was that you were bleeding from the place he often found immense pleasure stuffing himself in. His signature crazed smile appears on his face.

You begin to connect the dots as your eyes are drawn to the large buldge in your lovers costume.

You blink up at him, a smile forming on your lips too. You’d never had period sex before, previous partners being afraid of the mess. It’s something you’ve always wanted to try and Art is more than happy to oblige.

Art has only eaten you out a handful of times, he enjoyed it but not as much as other sexual. activities. Hence the reason you’re so surprised when he pulls you to the edge of the bed and drops to his knees. Before you can even process the new position Art already has your pants and underwear off and across the room.

He tests the waters, sticking a gloved finger into your crimson hole. As he pulls it out, his eye rolls in ecstasy as the gooey red liquid stains his white digit. Art lunges forward, burying his face into your cunt, large nose nudging your clit.

Part of you wants to tell him to be gentle and explain that you're extra sensitive during this time. However, you know he won't listen anyway and remain silent, basking in the extra attention.

His tongue darts in and out of you, collecting every drop of liquid that he can. God forbid, he lets any crimson stream get out of his reach. He's rutting against the bed, his extremely hard cock straining against his white trousers.

Art's attention shifts to your clit and he sucks and bites the extra sensitive bud. Your back arches off the bed as Art shoves two gloved digits inside you. Your climax comes out of nowhere, making you scream in ecstasy as Art continues with no sign of stopping.

He laps up your sticky release, loving the taste of iron on his tongue. Determined to elicit another release from you, Art sucks harder on your abused clit, pumping his fingers even faster than before.

He draws his fingers out of you, gripping at your thighs, bloody fingers leaving red prints. Pulling you by the feet even closer, he stares down at you while pulling off his costume.

Without warning his girthy member is thrusted into you. As Art pumps in and out of you, all that can be heard is the wet sound of bodies slapping against one another.

Art typically enjoys watching your face contort while he fucks into you but today his attention is drawn elsewhere. He is completely focused on the sight of his cock, now red with blood pumping in and out of you.

Everything feels so much more intense now. Sex with Art is always so stimulating, never leaving you dissatisfied. Today is different. Today you’re ten times more satisfied than ever, and he’s only just begun. Although, judging by the state of him, Art won’t last long…which is probably good for you.

Each thrust feels like a spark igniting the fire within your belly. As the pace quickens and the squelching sounds become louder you can’t help but wrap your arms around Art. Nails digging into his back you draw blood, only encouraging the sadomasochist.

Something sick and twisted must have possessed you over the amount of time you’ve spent with Art. Seeing the mix of pain and pleasure (although mostly pleasure) cross your lovers features has you clenching around him. Your climax comes out of nowhere once again, taking the both of you by surprise.

With no warning, Art’s movements still, spilling his hot load inside of you. He pulls out, watching the gooey mixture slowly drip, collecting it with his gloved hands. He brings the pinkish mixture to your mouth and wordlessly beckons you to suck.

The iron-like tang meets your tongue and you moan, patting the bedding next to you.

“Art come lay down by me and I’ll let you clean me up later”, you declare.

Ya domesticity is a state of mind and this is the closest you’ll ever get with your clown lover…and you’re perfectly fine with that.

[thepuppeteer-andthetrashmob]

i wasn’t entirely sure what that free space meant so blank

Uh so I made a character bingo if anyone wants to try it (:

[fala-alfredo-pasta]

Just imagine the in-universe forums for who the winner of the "Nagitobowl" will be.

"It's SO obviously Komamiki. The two just have so much in common."

"Nagito's not into girls, lol."

"He has gone on the record in interviews as being pan!"

"Oh please. They put him in an awkward on-the-spot situation. All he said was he admires the hope in people, regardless of gender."

"Sounded pretty fucking pan to me, dude. And we all saw the look on his face when she fell over in that position..."

"Nah. Soumaeda all the way! Our boy REALLY likes to hang around him a lot."

"He's just excited to have guy pals for once. Anyway, Kazuichi isn't into dudes."

"Shark boy is in denial!"

"Seriously guys? This matter was settled ages ago. We all heard that cry he let out* when Chiaki died."

"Our boy can't stay stuck in the past."

"Fuck off. They'll be reunited one day. Komanami 4ever!"

"If there was any of the deceased classmates he had something going on with, it would have been Fuyuhiko. RIP Short King."

"I dunno. That day when Nekomaru cheered Nagito up by helping build up his strength in the gym was pretty wholesome."

"If you ask me, I think there was potential for something with Imposter. When the two opened up about their pasts to each other they really seemed to relate to each other."

"Come on! Sonagito all the way. Nagito still likes to confide with her an awful lot."

"They're just good friends, and it's pretty obvious she already has something going on with Gundham. Besides, rumors are going around that Nagito might be a long lost second-cousin."

"Pfft! That's tame by royal standards. And no reason they couldn't have some poly love going on."

"You're all wrong. Komazumi is endgame all the fucking way. There was clearly SOMETHING going on there in the last two trials. And she's the one beside him the most in post-game Nagito sightings."

"I still think that pining for the Reserve Course boy from before the game was cute."

"What, Hajime Hinata? There's not much to go off of from what little information survived the Tragedy. And if he survived, wouldn't he have come forward by now?"

"Hold the fucking phone, guys. A video just got uploaded showing Nagito confronting that one short Despair. The other Ultimate Lucky Student. There's some serious Foe Yay shit going on."

"Oh great, the Junkomaeda stan's found a new ship."

"No seriously. They're doing a literal fucking tango."

"...What?"

"The Despair planted bombs or some shit and threatened to detonate them if Nagito didn't dance with him."

"Link. Now."

*= See "Spider-Man's Blood-curdling Scream" on YouTube.

absolutely losing my shit just picturing makoto forcing asking nagito to dance like:

Makoto: "Dance with me Nagito or I'll seriously cry! Fr fr! Also I'll blow up this entire building full of people. But mostly I'll cry!!!"

Nagito reluctantly dipping Makoto: *for the sake of hope ಠ╭╮ಠ*

Makoto: *wow I didn't think he'd actually do it lmao*

[soulsxng]

One relationship that I should talk about while I'm thinking of this kind of thing, is Felesio and Jinnea's. Because it's one of my favorites, and because it's going to be important to any threads that happen with either of them.

They are each other's soulmates, though they didn't know this until some time after they were married. They tend to keep this fact to themselves though, so that it isn't exploited in some manner.

Despite that fact, and despite what they say/how they act in public, their love for each other isn't romantic in nature. They love and trust each other very much-- more than they likely ever could anyone else-- but it's strictly a platonic thing.

Why did they get married, then? Because it would look better to the people for there to be two Paragons than just one, pretty much. If something happens to one, the other is still around to keep things from completely falling apart.

The vast majority of people think that the two are romantically involved, however, to prevent anyone from trying to come between them. They don't want to deal with that, so they just act very couple-y to avoid it.

They are known to occasionally invite other people into their bed, though that's usually just one of them pretty much going "Mm. Horny.", and the other going "Alright cool, let's get you laid." lmao. Sometimes they'll sleep with the same person, though typically it's just one of them.

Extremely co-dependent with each other. Though they're capable of being apart for short periods of time, once it starts getting to be around a day that they haven't seen each other, they start getting weird. Very much a package deal-- can't have one without the other being involved in one way or another.

That also means that you really can't tell one something without the other hearing about it, too, because they talk to each other about everything.

What does "they start getting weird" entail? Felesio: Paranoid, Prone to violent rages. Distrusting and cynical. Jinnea: Anxious, Prone to verbal rages. Reckless and apathetic. All to slowly increasing extremes once they haven't seen each other/haven't spoken in a day or so.

Jinnie is more outwardly protective of Fele, but don't let that fool you. She's just generally more bold than he is. Fele is the type that will have a knife at your throat the second he thinks you even have a chance of being a threat to Jinnie.

[luveline]

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐞 —send me a shy!reader request for any character (with a plot) and I'll write a >1k drabble

sirius/james introducing shy!reader to remus. and shes just like quiet and in awe, but remus loves it.

luveline's 40k party ☆ tysm for requesting! remus x shy fem!reader

James is used to your personality after months of being your lecture neighbour, unperturbed by your quiet. "It's going to be fun," he promises, handing you a cold glass of cranberry vodka. "They're nice, okay? I won't let anyone irritate you." 

He's hosting a party and had the generosity to invite you round early. He's easing you in, so to speak. It took him two weeks of steady Hellos for you to work up the courage to say Hi back, another two weeks for small talk, a month before you felt comfortable speaking to him first. If you're that shy, a party is basically torture.

"It's not about irritating me," you say. 

"I know, I'm messing." James lists his head to the left. A second later, there's a knock at the door. "Aha. Wait here, shortcake, there's someone I want you to meet." 

"James," you say after him, wet from your glass leaking down to your sleeve, "what?" 

"I asked him to come early and say hello! He's quiet and handsome and you'll love him, just don't stare at his nose." 

What's wrong with his nose? you think, alarmed. 

James opens the door. Two new voices emerge, one scratchy and a little high, the other smoother. "I need to pee so bad," the scratchy one declares, followed by bounding footsteps up the stairs. 

"You alright?" the smoother asks.

You think there's patting, a hug, "I'm brilliant! You smell really nice, Remus, like a garden." 

"Lovely."

"In a good way! Come and meet my Y/N, you remember I told you about her nice gel pens?" 

James leads the smooth-voiced Remus into the living room. You hurriedly put down your drink and stand, wiping your wet hands in your shirt. You cringe at the darkening fabric but hide your grimace as they stop in front of you. 

"Remus, Y/N. Y/N, Remus," James introduces you both. 

Remus has a scar across his nose that seems cruelly cut. There's another beside it that starts in his upper lip, both of which end in his eyebrow. You know how self-conscious it feels to be looked at, so you manage to smile and offer your hand without too much of it. He's handsome with his scars, a nice nose with a ridge and brown eyes the colour of caramelised sugar.

"Hello," Remus says, shaking your hand. His is big enough to make yours feel small. 

"I invited her early because she's more fun than the rest of our lot," James says, throwing himself down on the sofa and kicking his legs out on the coffee table. 

Remus taps your elbow very gently as if to usher you to sit and sits down beside you, enough space to be casual but too little to stop the rampant nerves that blossom in your stomach. 

Remus asks about your life. What you're studying, where you're from, if James is being nice to you. While James is touchy in the rough older brother way, scrunching your shoulder and shaking you when you're not expecting it. Remus is touchy in a different way, you find, almost as if he doesn't know he's doing it. His shoe bumps your shoe, his hand falls down between his outer thigh and your own, his knuckles touching your jeans very lightly. He spins in his seat to talk to you. 

You don't notice other people arriving, nor the scratchy-voiced friends return. All you can do is look up at Remus with wide eyes. Your nerves meld to something warmer. 

"And what do you do?" you ask him. 

He smiles like you've wandered into a secret. "I'm trying to write a book." 

"He's being a bit much," Sirius says to James, the two now loitering in the doorway with matching beers. You and Remus chatter on, unaware of their running commentary.

"It's a very strong reaction. I knew she'd like him, but I didn't think she'd like him like that." James takes a sip of his drink. Remus asks you a quiet question. You duck your head, playing with your sleeves, and Remus, the bastard, ducks his head to follow your gaze, smiling at you all the while. 

James almost chokes, pointing his bottle toward you both as though Sirius isn't already looking. "He's eating it up. I forgot how flirty he is."

"She'll be nice to him, won't she?" Sirius asks, like it's a done deal. To be fair, Remus seems enthralled with you. 

"Definitely. She's very nice. Oh, look, that's sick, she's gonna pass out." James winces as Remus takes your arm into his hand. 

Remus wouldn't do anything cruel, but James wasn't joking when he told Remus that you were exceedingly, achingly shy. He's about to step in and rescue you, but you turn into Remus' touch and pull your leg up on the sofa to make yourself comfortable. Your voice is animated, if quieter than the average person's.

"Woah," James says, beaming.  

Remus flirts almost as a defence, like he wants to get the rejection over and done with so he can move on. You've yet to reject; you're looking up at him in moderate awe, your lips quirked into an easy smile. 

"Boo!" James calls, flicking his bottle cap at Remus, who brushes it away. "Took me three weeks to get a smile out of her," he mutters. "What a dick." 

[feyascorner]

Okay perhaps this sounds odd but imagine Astarion starts to disassociate while intimate with Tav and so he uses their established safe word, only to be bewildered when Tav actually listens to him and stops and asks if he’s okay and tries to comfort him because nobody has cared that much before 😢

OH GODS WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS TO ME (i love it) warning for suggestive content :)

For as long as Astarion's been genuinely intimate with you, for no other reasons but simply because of the affection the two of you hold for one another, he has always been in control.

It soothes him, in a way, to be on top. And as much as he enjoys watching you come undone beneath him, there's a more frustrating reason behind why he always feels the need to be the one to push you down onto whatever surface he deems decent enough at the time. From above you, he can see every little twitch in your body, every shift in your expression, and most of all, he can control what's happening, unlike his centuries spent as a seductive tool for Cazador's own needs.

He knows you're not like those fools. He knows you're different, and you're special to him. But the gnawing voice in the back of his head always forces him to pull you in, to hold you closer, to make love to you.

It's fucked up in so many ways.

"I want to make you feel as good as you make me feel."

But when you look up at him with those imploring, loving eyes, the voice seems to go quiet. He swallows the dryness of his throat, unable to think of anything but how wonderful your touch feels on his skin, and he thinks he could drown in this forever. He's putty in your hands, whether he wants to admit it or not.

"Well? Don't be a tease just standing there, darling."

In what feels like minutes, he's a mess. He's making sounds he shouldn't be making, fingertips digging into your hips as if they're the anchors keeping him from finishing too early. He breathes heavily into the crook of your neck, groaning when you caress the sharp tip of his ear between your fingers.

The only thing keeping him from spilling is the impending embarrassment he'd feel for doing so this early on in the night.

Then, everything stops.

"You're so beautiful," you whisper.

They're only words. They're not ones he's heard little of---in fact, he's heard it too much in the past two hundred years. In an instant, memories of the nights he spent under strangers, forced to shove his mind into its darkest corners just to get through their own pleasures, flood his consciousness. The sickening taste in his mouth afterward, and the need to rub his skin till it goes raw were not uncommon. It was routine. A sick part of his life that he'd rather forget.

You don't mean it the same way they did. They only said things like that because that's all they could say. They didn't know him as anything but the husk of a body he resided in. He knows you are saying the words to him. Not to his body but to the very person he is.

But the word comes spilling out his mouth, and immediately, you freeze.

You actually stopped.

Of course, you would. You're you.

"Are you okay? Did I do something?" you reach to cup either of his cheeks, and he stares at you as if you're a star that's fallen from the sky. He blinks, slowly.

"I don't know, I just---" he searches for words. "--you haven't done anything wrong, darling."

You wait for him to finish patiently. Gods, he doesn't deserve this. He doesn't deserve you.

"I only remembered something I'd rather not," he plasters a crooked grin on his face. "It's quite alright. We can continue now if I haven't ruined the mood."

You pull away from him, and he fears you'll leave.

Moments later, you return with a glass of water. Wordlessly, you hand it to him, and he only stares at it, confused beyond belief. Only once he notices the way you gesture to the glass does he drink it, and you finally climb back into bed, lying down beside him.

"Come here," you open your arm, motioning him to come closer.

"Darling, as much as I'm all for experimenting, that's a strange position to have sex in."

You smile, shaking your head. You don't explain any further, only continuing to hold out your arm.

Hesitant though curious, he slowly lies down beside you, his head just above your chest and slotted between the space below your chin. With gentle hands, you pull him closer and toss the blanket over both of your bodies.

It's warm. Strange, but warm.

"You don't have to wear a mask with me," you whisper.

His eyes grow wide, and his chest stills. He doesn't have many tears left after 239 years, but there's an unfamiliar squeeze in his chest that tells him if he were still 39 and alive, he might have. Astarion wraps his arms around your waist, burying his face into where he can hear the steady beating of your heart.

Later, when your eyes begin to droop, he mumbles.

"Tell me I'm beautiful again."

"You're beautiful," you say softly. "With or without your pretty face."

You might be imagining it, but you feel him smile against your skin.

[starcrossedmusings]

Pretty Hands

Pairing: best friend!Yunho x f!reader WC: 3.2k Warnings: eventual smut, reader has a thing for Yunho's hands (who doesn't??), swearing, fingering, choking, a little bit of degradation (he compares her to a whore literally once), PRAISE so much praise, Yunho talks reader through it (you're welcome), pov is kinda all over the place just let it be, Yunho is absolutely WHIPPED for reader teehee, probably some other things that I missed (let me know)

Summary: You and Yunho have been friends for years, and you tell each other everything. He suddenly takes a much more vested interest in your love life when you can't stop mentioning your newest interest.

A/N: This is entirely self indulgent and also I just wanted to get something full posted. The Phantom fic is turning out to be much longer than I originally anticipated (and so did this one once I started writing it). Let me know what you think♡

Stepping into Yunho's apartment had always felt like coming home, and today was no exception. You take your shoes off in the tiled entryway and pad your way through the main living area, calling out to him as you walk.

"Yun? I'm here!"

His muffled response flows down from the end of the hall, "Bedroom!"

You make your way through the back hallway and enter his room, finding him exactly where you thought he would be, focused in on his computer. There's a selection of empty drink cans and snack wrappers scattered around his desk, which tells you that whatever he's currently building on Minecraft has probably occupied the majority of his day so far. He pauses the game and turns his chair to face you.

"Whats up?"

"Got bored at home and my roommate isn't even trying to muffle her pornstar moans for her new boy toy."

Yunho barks out a laugh, "Does she seriously sound--"

"Just like it Yun I can't make this shit up. I'm starting to think maybe they're recording themselves in there."

Yunho wiggles his eyebrows as he stretches his arms up and over his head, leaning back in his chair. "Well, if I ever see your living room on Pornhub I'll be sure to let you know"

You crinkle your nose. "Ew. I do NOT need to know that."

"Whatever, don't act like you haven't been talking to me for weeks about how horny you are. If I have to hear about your vibrator dying one more time I'm gonna buy you a new one myself."

"You try getting unintentionally edged three nights in a row with a full charge, it's some bullshit Yun. Besides, I'm allowed to complain about my dry spell."

Yunho scoffs, tone playful and lighthearted. "Dry spell? It's been what? Two months?"

"It's been three thank you very much." You move to sit on his bed.

"Well some of us haven't had sex in much longer."

"Oh, please, that girl that San was messing around with was all over you at his birthday party last month, don't tell me you didn't take that opportunity."

Yunho raises his eyebrows in shock, leaning forward in his chair. "Wait, really?"

"Oh my GOD Yun you are so oblivious. Yes really. She was all giggly and twirling her hair and shit. That's like...girl flirting basics."

"I am not oblivious, I am actually quite observant. I could tell you things about yourself you don't even know. I just have my sights set on someone and that someone is not her."

You shoot him an incredulous look and snort out a laugh, leaning back to lay down completely on his bed, legs dangling off the edge. "Sure Yun, whatever makes you feel better."

You hear Yunho stand from his chair and feel his weight shift onto the mattress. He appears in your vision, a challenging playful sparkle in his eyes as he peers down at you. "Okay, fine. I can tell that you're trying out a new perfume, you just went shopping because your leggings are a different brand than you usually wear, and I know that you washed your hair last night because you're wearing it all the way down today."

You do your best to ignore the way your stomach summersaults at his attention to detail about you and your routines. You roll onto your side and prop your head up on your elbow, matching his challenging gaze. "Okay Sherlock Holmes. What kind of underwear am I wearing then?"

Yunho pauses to consider before responding "a thong, probably black." You grin triumphantly and lean in just a bit closer.

"Wrong. I'm not wearing any. You lose!" You stick your tongue out playfully at him and he swats your shoulder, falling back onto his mattress.

"You set me up!"

"Face it Yun, I'm just better than you."

"Yeah yeah, whatever" Yunho pouts, voice hightening slightly from surprise. He can feel a slight redness creeping up his ears and prays his hair has grown long enough to cover it. 'I'm not wearing any.' He clears his throat. "So why go commando? You finally planning to seduce your new conquest?"

"He is not a new conquest, he doesn't even know I like him."

"He will once he knows you aren't wearing any underwear for him" Yunho jokes, smiling cheekily. You smack at his chest.

"I didn't want to do laundry last night, asshole. Get your mind out of the gutter!"

"You're one to talk" he mutters under his breath.

You sit up fully and reach for one of the pillows at the top of his bed, slamming it down on his face. "Jeong Yunho I swear to god!" On your second swing, he manages to catch the pillow with one hand and pry it from your grasp, but not before giving you an entirely unhelpful image of his long fingers gripping the plush material.

"What?? All I ever hear you talk about lately is how tall and handsome this dude is and how much his hands make you drool."

"You sound jealous."

"I'm not jealous, I'm pissed that I have to hear all about him and don't even get to know what the dude's name is."

"I told you, I'm gatekeeping this time. You run your mouth too much."

"I do not!"

"Do too."

"Ugh FINE whatever," Yunho chucks the pillow back towards you and you dodge it, leaving both pillows on one side of the headboard, "You're so agitating."

"You know you love me Yun. But just for the attitude," You adjust both pillows and shuffle your way back until you're leaned against both of them, "no pillow for you for tonights doomscrolling session."

He huffs a laugh and scoots up to meet you, pulling out his phone and settling in against the headboard.

An hour later you get up to go to the bathroom, and when you get back Yunho has stolen both of his pillows. You frown and cross your arms. "Hey, asshole, those were mine!"

"Yeah?" He taunts playfully, "Well they were mine to begin with, and my back is killing me. So deal." You roll your eyes and cross back over to the bed, crawling over the side you've been sitting on and curling yourself into Yunho's side to rest your head against his chest. You feel him tense slightly underneath you before he moves one of his arms around your shoulders to let you lay more comfortably.

"There's no way in hell I'm sitting up against that cold ass metal frame you call a headboard." You mutter as you begin scrolling. Yunho's chuckle rumbles through his chest and tickles your cheek. You both sit in silence for a while, content to scroll on your phones. Eventually, you turn to look up at him from his chest.

"I meant to ask how your new project has been going. Whatever you were building when I came in looked pretty intense." You can see the faint tinge of red trail up his ears and neck--a telltale sign that whatever you caught him building makes him embarrassed. You sit up, propping your weight on your elbow and placing a hand on his chest to shove him slightly. "Ooooo now you have to tell me what it is!"

"It's embarrassing..."

"Tell me tell me tell me tell me--"

"Okay fine, fuck. I'll tell you if you promise not to laugh--"

"I won't I swear!"

"Pinky promise?" He holds his pinky out to you, and you raise a hand from his chest. Before you can lace your pinky in his, he pulls his hand up above his head. "I'm serious, Y/N, if you laugh I'll have no choice but to tickle you to death."

He's definitely not stalling because he has to come up with a reply, because he certainly hasn't been building a treehouse for you in what he hopes will one day be a shared server. Yunho thinks to himself that he would rather die than let you find out.

You scoff, "I won't laugh...and even if I did I'm not ticklish so your threat is a moot point."

Yunho drops his hand down onto the mattress. "Bullshit."

"It's not. I don't have a ticklish bone in my body."

"Liar."

You shake your head, and Yunho takes the opportunity to gently press the pads of his fingers into the sides of your ribs. The sensation hits you almost immediately, and you feel the tight feeling in your chest as he begins tickling you. You squeal and thrash around in his grasp, trying desperately to get away from his assault.

"Yun stop it--"

"Not until you admit you're a liar!" You begin to giggle and manage to roll away from him, but Yunho is quick to follow. He swings a long leg over your hips and pins you beneath him, a single large hand trapping both of your wrists above your head while the other dances across your ribs. "Admit it," He sings out.

"Okay! Okay fine I'm a liar!" You gasp out between laughter. Yunho beams down at you and immediately stops tickling your sides, leaving you panting underneath him--

Oh fuck...you're panting underneath him.

He can almost feel the shift in the air as he stares down at you. He knows he should move, just roll off of you and make up some bullshit lie about what he was building. You like someone else, and he clearly wasn't getting out of the friend zone any time soon. He's just making a fool of himself...and yet he just can't bring himself to stop memorizing the way you look splayed out beneath his hips. Eventually he forces himself to stop staring at the way your chest rises and falls or the sliver of your tummy that's poking out from underneath your shirt that's riding up. He locks eyes with you.

Your voice comes out softer than he's ever heard you speak before. "Hey Yun?"

"Yeah?"

"You know that mystery guy I've been telling you about? The one with the pretty hands?"

A twinge of annoyance flairs in his stomach and he can't help but grumble out his reply. "Yeah?"

"I'll give you a hint. He's got me pinned to the mattress right now."

Yunho feels his heart drop deep into the pit of his stomach.

"Like...like right now he does?"

You laugh lightly. "Yeah, right now, Yun."

Yunho swallows thickly as his head starts spinning. He leans down much slower than he would have liked to, giving you plenty of time to take it back--to laugh at him and tell him you got him good. He feels like his whole body lights ablaze when you close the final gap between your lips, and suddenly he is kissing you.

In almost any circumstance that you had seen Yunho kissing someone, he was always fast-paced--hot and heavy petting in the corner of a darkened bar, dares in drunken party circles--which is why you were floored at the reverence he was kissing you with now. His mouth was steady and intense against yours, his hands roaming slowly across the expanse of your torso like he was memorizing the feel of something priceless. You gently pull your hands from his grasp and tangle them in his hair, pulling him closer and matching his intensity with your fervor. You feel his hands make their way to the lower hem of your shirt, and your skin erupts in goosebumps as you feel his fingers ghost along the sliver of skin there. He breaks the kiss and you feel his breath fan across your face as he pants. His hands gently make their way to rest just under your shirt, not quite pushing the fabric up. He locks eyes with you.

"Is this okay?"

You chuckle gently. "Yes, Yun, you can touch me. I want you to touch me." You watch his eyes darken and his hands start running up your torso, pulling your shirt up with them.

"Where do you want me to touch you, baby?"

You exhale heavily and arch your back into his touch. "Anywhere...everywhere...I don't care."

Yunho smirks and feels his ego inflate. "You don't care? Hmm..." He starts planting kisses along your jaw and down the side of your neck. Slow. Teasing. "If I remember correctly, you seemed pretty keen about having my hands in some specific places baby. Can you refresh my memory?"

The low whine that escapes your throat nearly sends him spiraling. "You know where...don't make me say it."

He does know, but there's nothing he wants to hear more right now than to hear you say it. He brings one hand up to your chest, cupping one of your boobs and squeezing gently as he continues peppering your neck with kisses. "Was it here? Or..." His hand trails back down and grips your hip possessively, "Here, maybe?" He hears you huff and feels your hand wrap around his wrist. You try to tug it up, and he chuckles softly but allows you to move his hand. He nips your earlobe and asks lowly, "Where do you need my hands baby?" He feels his cock twitch in his sweats when you wrap his fingers around your throat, guiding him to squeeze the sides gently. Your hands run down his chest and drop to your sides as he squeezes a little harder. "Fuck, look at you. So pretty with my hand around your neck."

You whine and buck your hips up, desperately looking for friction. Yunho coos as he looks down at you, wanting to have the image burned into his memory. He adjusts his position so he's sat on one side of you and brings his free hand to your thighs, squeezing the flesh there and watching the way you spread your legs for him. "Pretty girl, I need you to use your words. Spreading your legs like a whore isn't gonna get you what you want." He revels in the way you throw your head back onto the mattress and close your eyes, frustration evident already on your face.

"Need your fingers, Yun. Please."

Holy shit, he could combust right then and there. He smiles and traces his hands along the inside of your clothed thighs. "Good girl. So polite for me." He hooks his fingers in the waistband of your leggings and pulls them down and off, leaving you bare from the waist down. "Sit up for me baby. I want you between my legs."

Yunho sits on the edge of the mattress and allows you time to sit up, moving to sit in between his thighs. He hooks your legs over his, leaving you spread and completely at his mercy. A shiver runs down your spine as the pads of his fingers run across your thighs and you gasp as they brush against your core. He presses kisses into your neck and chuckles, "You're already soaking wet, what's got you all bothered hmm? I've barely touched you..." Yunho hums and teases your entrance with this middle finger. He can feel you clenching. "Do you like my hands that much baby? All it takes is a little choking and you're putty for me." He pushes two fingers inside, pumping slowly and curling back to find your sweet spot. He feels pride flare through his chest at the noise you make, a mix between a whine and a moan that eggs him on.

Your toes curl as Yunho almost immediately finds your g-spot. The pace he sets is almost perfect, and when he begins rubbing tight circles on your clit your eyes roll back into your head. The pleasure is a building wave, and it's all you can do to keep yourself remotely still as he continues pumping his thick fingers in and out. "Oh my god, Yun, please don't stop!" You clench helplessly around his fingers and let your head roll back to rest on his shoulder.

"Awe baby I'm not gonna stop. Not until I see how pretty you look cumming all over me. Will you do that for me, sweetheart?" he coos, bringing his other hand back up to your throat and squeezing lightly. "Will you cum all over my fingers? I bet you want to right? Wanna come on my fingers while I squeeze this pretty neck of yours?"

You whine and preen at his words and arch your back. Your legs begin to shake as Yunho's circling on your clit quickens pace just slightly, the thrusts of his fingers audible from the squelching between your thighs. Your breath quickens.

"My pretty girl, you're such a mess for me, aren't you? Can you hear how wet you are? All soaked for me? I bet your hands don't feel as good as mine hmm?"

You shake your head no violently, whining as he continues to talk lowly into your ear. Your orgasm builds quickly, and at this point you have no faith in your ability to speak coherently.

"No, they don't do they? I want you to show me how good my hands feel baby. Let go for me, sweetheart."

Your breath catches in your throat as you tip over the edge, and the feeling of your release washes over you. Your whole body jolts in his grasp as he continues pumping his fingers. You feel him squeeze your throat gently, just enough pressure to remind you that he's got you.

"Atta girl, look at you! Doing so good for me." You whine and buck your hips, orgasm still riding through your body. Yunho nips at your neck lightly and slows his pumping to a stop as you continue to shake. "That's it baby, just grind on them for me." The final aftershock of your orgasm finishes, and you go limp in his arms, leaning all of your weight back into his chest and breathing heavily.

Yunho pulls his fingers out and admires the mess you made on them before popping them into his mouth. He's still rock hard, and the taste of you on his fingers makes him twitch again. He'll definitely need your help with that later. He uses the hand around your neck to brush a stray hair from out of your face. "How are you feeling?"

You huff out a breathless laugh and turn your face to nuzzle into his neck. "How do you think I feel? That was...wow."

He can't help the goofy smile that crosses his face. "Oh really? Tell me more, I'd like a full report." He jokes, pulling the two of you down to snuggle on his bed. He grabs a throw blanket from your side and pulls it over the two of you and nearly melts when you curl closer to him, burying your face into his chest.

"Give me a few minutes to recover and I'll show you exactly how I'm feeling right now." Yunho rubs a hand up and down your back.

"I look forward to that."

"And then afterwards you're going to show me what you've been building."

Yunho chuckles and kisses the top of your head. No way in hell.

[loganlermanstanaccount]

Hello! Could you please write a stubborn, jealous hc for Miguel o'hara? Thank you!!

I had the brainworms, so I hope this is what you were looking for! Thanks for the ask <3

Jealous!Miguel O'Hara Headcanons

(AO3 Mirror), Main Masterlist

pairing: jealous!Miguel O'Hara x reader

summary: stubborn HCs for jealous!Miguel O'Hara. 

a/n: this was meant to be a drabble and i basically wrote a full fic. i have zero self control lmfao

warnings: smut (fingering, f receiving oral, slight brat taming, etc) right at the very end, 18+ from then onwards, the rest is more pg-13

wc: 3.5k ish

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

Long story short: he's a stubborn little shit.

Pig-headed as fuck and it shows up in little things. 

Let's say you first met as coworkers, and you were a lab technician at Alchemax. 

Think: unstoppable force meets immovable object. He likes his labs just so, with very specific equipment in a very specific configuration. 

It drives you crazy, regularly having tiffs outside the labs; much to the chagrin of your coworkers. 

"Jesus." Your coworker mutters, wincing at the seemingly heated argument by the water cooler. 

"Ignore it, Maeve." Another coworker rolls their eyes, nudging Mave with a snort. "They're at it again . S'pose they'll tire each other out by the end of the day."

Not that they were wrong. But this time, it wasn't your fault: dealing with O'Hara's bullshit had really taken it's toll. He was insufferable, prone to nitpicking and just plain mean. You could hardly be blamed if you gave him some of your own choice words. 

"My notes were basically paint-by-fucking-numbers!  How could you mess up a simple distillation? When I specify precision glassware , you don't think that's fucking important?" 

"Your notes ," You draw air quotes pointedly at him. "-are illegible, you fucking cretin! Maybe if you didn't write like a goddamn pre-schooler-"

"- preschooler? Oh , fuck you!" 

"Get your nose out of that highschool Chem textbook, O'Hara, this is a fucking job."

"Yeah? Stop using it to wipe your ass and you might learn a thing or two."

"Oh , so that's what we're doing?" You laugh in his face, so angry your hand curls into tight fists. You get close, staring him down as you look upwards through your lashes. His own face is contorted into a grimace; bushy eyebrows furrowed into deep shadows around his eyes. You can feel his steady breathing before he speaks, low and rumbling. 

"I could do this all day, princesa. " 

You scoff, ignoring the way his words weaken your knees. The one time you asked for a break during a long lab and he won't stop calling you a spoilt princess. His laughter then stings in your ears now, the ghost of a smirk on his face as you storm off. Miguel O'Hara: smug bastard. He would be the death of you, you're sure. 

~~~

You spend many a late night with him, unwittingly, and find out he's more than a stubborn little shit. 

You find out he's funny, and shares the same anti-Alchemax tendencies you do: both preyed upon by the company immediately after graduation, young and naive. 

He's kind, even though he'd never admit it, often finishing up the lab notes and doing more than his fair share of work so you can go home at a reasonable time. 

You both still butt heads, but it turns into a tentative friendship - coffees in the morning hidden as blaise convenience, covering for each other at work, and defending the other when office gossip goes too far. 

That's why when he comes back to work after a week-long stint away - something about a blow up with the boss, an issue described as 'miscommunication, promptly smoothed over' by anyone official - you notice… something's different about him. 

You first noticed something was off when he walked in without a snide remark. You left a mug overnight at the counter, something that would usually draw a sarcastic comment at the least , but he gives you… nothing. Blank, glassy eyes as he opens up his workstation - clicking away at the keys without so much as a glance.

"O'Hara?" You call, but he doesn't even look up. You walk to his workstation and knock at the desk. He jumps. God, he looks worse for the wear. Heavy bags under his eyes and a bruise blossoming under his collar. 

"You okay?" 

He rubs his temples, eyes flitting up at you.  "Yeah, just…. just a long week, s'all." 

You put a hand on his shoulder, and you swear he leans into your touch. "We can reschedule, tonight. The calculations can wait, Miguel."

He gives you a weak smile, but a smile nevertheless. "S'okay. Need to make sure you don't fuck it up."

"Don't push your luck, O'Hara."

~~~

As you get closer, you notice just how stubborn he is to admit the growing tension between you two. 

Late nights at the lab turn into takeout at your place, morning coffee turns into a pleasant 20 minutes on the rooftop away from the hustle and bustle - just you and Miguel, talking and joking with a cup of shitty coffee in hand. 

Wholly, he seems more assertive at work, not as quick to roll over. 

It's hot, you have to admit; watching him fight with someone else other than you. 

You're at work drinks with the other technicians and engineers, nursing a watery beer when another colleague makes small talk with you at the bar.

You’ve never been that close to him, and the conversation is amicable enough, but you’re almost bowled over when you see Miguel, in the corner, staring straight at you with a stormy look.

You suppose it's a little pathetic, getting all dressed up for a casual drink. Lips shiny with gloss and gently powdered with makeup, you feel a little out of place. For all your talk at work, actually being here was another thing. Suddenly, your blouse is too tight and your skirt too short. With a manicured finger, you trace the lip of your glass filled with watery beer. You sigh. You don't want to admit it, but you were only here because of Miguel. He said he would come, and now you're sitting on a barstool counting the chips in your glass. 

It was probably for the best. You sink into the absentminded chatter of your colleagues around you, until there's a tap at your shoulder. 

"Is someone-" He clears his throat; a tall man dressed in a sharp suit nodding gracefully towards the empty chair. "-is this seat taken?" 

You shake your head, grateful for the company. He's handsome, sharp features curving into a wry grin as he calls for a drink. 

"...and something other than shitty beer for the pretty girl, too." It makes you laugh, light and lilting in the bustle of the bar. 

He stretches out his hand, and you take it. 

"Eddie Crouch. I work in marketing."

Eddie…. as in… head of the most profitable division of Alchemax? Your eyes widen involuntarily and you try to clamp down your immediate shock, somewhat unsuccessfully. He narrows his eyes as you tumble over your words. 

"Y-Yeah, same! I mean, not same , I just work in the l-labs and I thought it was just for us guys, working behind the curtain, y'know? Not that we're not thrilled to have you here, because we a-are." You spill out, wincing. "....Is this about the performance reviews? Because I know output was down this quarter but our projections are-"

"I'm not here to talk about work." He chuckles. You squint, not convinced. As if to alleviate your concerns, he loosens his tie and undoes his top buttons with a flourish. 

"Can I tell you a secret?" He leans in, and the air becomes thick with expensive perfume. He twirls the signet ring on his finger, a ring probably worth more than your monthly paycheck. 

"Your boss invited me," Discreetly, he stretches a finger at your boss; a man ruddy cheeked and red-faced with alcohol. "Guess he thought it would boost morale. He's a fucking idiot if he thinks having me, the one guy that could fire your entire department without recourse, exchange empty platitudes would boost morale. But, I digress. So here I am, dragging my feet to this bar, thinking I'm gonna get in, read the lines and get out. But then, " He pauses with dramatic effect. "I see the most beautiful person I've ever had the pleasure of laying my eyes on, just sitting by the bar. Like everyone isn't already falling over themselves to talk to you."

The irony is palpable. It's sickly sweet, and a line that wouldn't usually work on you. But usually, you weren't pining over a man so prickly and stubborn, you shouldn't have feelings for. Here you were, bright cocktail in front of you and a moderately attractive man by your side. He wasn't quite Miguel, but in the words of one of the greatest thinkers of the past age: country girls make do. 

And so you make lazy conversation with the man. So lost in a tipsy haze, you barely notice Miguel walk in; dark jacket on his shoulders and deliciously loose slacks. You're drawn to him, his eyes seemingly searching the room, and you sigh into your drink. Technically, he looks like shit: eyes dark-rimmed and sunken, a cut at his brow. You think he is gorgeous, eyes tracing the slope of his nose and plush lips. Like he can sense it, he glances over in your direction and you look away hastily. He's watching , you can feel its burn as you turn, pretending to listen to the man besides you. A little cruelly, you lean into him, not breaking eye contact and curling a hand around his arm to laugh at a stupid joke. Eddie laughs with you, oblivious, as you glance behind him. 

Miguel stands with a drink thrust into his hands, looking straight through him, eyes low and gazing at you. 

~~~

He insists on walking you home, a steady hand on the small of your back as you stumble through the streets of Nueva York.

You make light conversation, tipsy and giggly from the alcohol. Miguel seems a little more put together, but his chest still creaks with rumbling laughter.

He definitely walks on the side of the pavement nearest the street, because he thinks it keeps you safer. 

He walks you up the stairs and by the door of your apartment, like a gentleman. You watch him get nervous suddenly, and he hesitates, stubbornly digging in his heels and pausing you from opening the door and coming in. 

You don't want it to end, opting to take the walk up the stairs as opposed to the lift. It's one of your more questionable decisions as you stumble up the stairs, almost tripping over your own feet. Miguel is quick to catch you even though he was just as drunk. Arm around your waist, he leaves searing touches to your hip. You giggle despite yourself, and he can't help but smile at your clumsiness. 

"If you break your legs I won't carry you, princesa ." A lie and you both know it. He would carry you to the ends of the earth like a blushing bride, if you asked him. 

You both stagger to up the stairs and through the corridor until you reach your front door. You rummage around your bag for your keycard, it's contents click-clacking in the quiet of the hallway. Miguel watches, quieter than he was in the journey. If you looked up now, you would see something else behind his eyes - a storm of apprehension and tension. 

You find your keycard, and look up to find Miguel placing a careful palm on the door. He's surprisingly still, eyes on your lips as he steps closer. You look everywhere but to meet his eyes, tracing the curve of his collarbone, the slope of his exposed forearm, and the tempting juncture of his strong jaw. You watch it tense, as he brings a gentle hand to your chin. His thumb swipes over the fat of your lip. 

"Got somethin' right… there." He mumbles, before tucking his hand away. You can barely breathe. Without thinking you take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together like a gentle hug. You bring his hand to your waist, and he squeezes, ever so gently. Your hand drops and he moves his slowly, knuckles dragging along the smooth silk of your blouse, and then sending shivers when he reaches your bare neck. 

He has to bite down the plethora of things running through his head - his drunken brain threatening to spill all his thoughts. You are so beautiful and soft it makes him short-circuit, desperate to pull you close. Instead, you do: hand inching up his chest and laying to rest on his shoulders. 

He kisses you, finally ; a little messy and impossibly soft. Like his lips on yours would shatter you both. You deepen the kiss and wrap his arm tighter around you, angling your chin to drink up even more of you. You both come up for air, panting in the heat of one another. Miguel's eyes are full of lust and blown out. 

"Do…do you want to come in?" You whisper. 

Something catches in his throat and his expression changes, like he just woke up from a dream. Do you just want to sleep with him? He's not built for one night stands, can't do just sex, especially if it's you. No matter how much he wants to, he can't, he won't, "....I shouldn't."

The disappointment on your face is palpable. You want to ask why - after he kissed you like that - why doesn't he want you? Instead you nod dejectedly. He gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead, lingering, and a shaky smile. 

You open your door with a buzz, and slam it in his face. 

~~~

It takes Miguel some time to properly put a name to what you two have: not knowing if the kiss was a drunken mistake, animal attraction or something more. 

He's not a grand gestures kind of person, he believes in action rather than words. 

Which is why it takes so long for him to admit just how in love with you he is. 

He steals glances at you all the time at the office, and tries to anticipate  all your needs. 

When you stretch and yawn in the morning, he happens to pass by your favourite coffee place and happens to buy one too many cups of your go-to order. 

So imagine his shock when he arrives from his lunch break, churros and coffee in hand, and there's one of the top brass from the night at the bar perched on your desk - 2 polystyrene cupfuls of something half drunk on the desk. 

He's never been insecure, but he can't help but feel possessive, something tense and tight growing at the base of his stomach. 

"What was it you wanted to talk about?" You step into the equipment cupboard, Miguel close behind you. You rub your temples, anticipating an argument. "O'Hara, if this is about my calibration tests this morning, I swear to God -" 

"No, no , nothing like that." He's quick to say. "They were… okay." He strains. 

You raise an eyebrow. Okay? Since when did Miguel pass up an opportunity for a mindless fight? Your mind races with his actions of the past few days. He has been different since the night at the bar, a little nicer, sure, but nothing this out of the ordinary. 

"That guy you were talking to. I saw him at the bar, and now here. Who is he?" 

Your eyebrows shoot up. "You do not have the right to ask me th-" 

"Are you fucking him?" A pause, and you study his expression, deducing that he is completely fucking serious . 

"Are you insane? You definitely don't have the right to ask me that." You make for the door, and he steps in front of it, blocking it with his body. 

"I need to know. Tell me and then I'll leave you alone, I promise." His voice is low and thick with something. 

You step closer and he wraps his hands around your waist absentmindedly. The pressure feels good, and makes your brain fog up. 

He repeats himself, softer. "Are you fucking him?" 

You look at him for a moment, before shaking your head. His facial expression  is steady, just as unreadable. 

"Do you want to?" 

You hesitate, wanting to be cruel and say yes, just to see his reaction. Perceptive, he sees your hesitance and says something that almost knocks you over. 

"I could fuck you better than he ever could," He kneads your thigh now, lips close to the shell of your ear in the tight space of the cupboard. " Princesa , look at me." 

You look at him, almost whimpering and putty in his hands. He's like a siren and you are lost in the pull of his gaze. It may be the proximity, but you swear you see a tinge of red in his eyes, like deep pools of lust. 

"Will you let me fuck you?" He pulls you closer so the meat of his thigh presses against your clothed cunt. Your stretchy pencil skirt rides up suggestively, and you rock your clit against him, searching for sweet pressure. You nod. 

Miguel titters softly, a hand on your chin pulling your lips to his. You moan into his kiss, body aching. It's hot and heavy like the kiss outside your door, but he swirls his tongue around yours and expertly nips at your lower lip. He guides your hips to rock against his thigh, tensing to make sure it's corded muscle hits the right places. He wants to break you apart, leave you so cock-drunk, you wouldn't think of even glancing at another man. 

You separate and he dips a hand under your skirt. He pulls it up and places a big palm at your pussy, with a well timed slap. You bite into his neck with the pressure. You definitely don't expect it when he rips open your stockings like they were paper. 

"Fuck, Miguel." 

"It's okay, baby, I'll get you new ones." Your eyes roll back as he slips aside the gusset to run a finger through your lower lips. Shamelessly, he slips a finger in, then two, basking in the wet squelch of your heat. You claw at his forearm, as he curls them into that sweet spot. 

You press your forehead to his shoulder, chasing his fingers with your hips. His sharp eyes watch every movement, every stutter and start that his fingers pull from you. He's practical, a man of action, and he is desperate to show you how much he cares. 

"I've thought about you… about this." He hisses as you cover your mouth to dampen your moans. 

"Wanted you for so long, princesa. Want to know how you taste, what this beautiful pussy feels like. What you look like when you cum."

His wrist aches with the back and forth motion but his pace barely faulters. 

" M-Miguel …"

He applies pressure to your clit, and watches in awe as you spasm, nails digging into his forearm. 

" Oh, there it is. Right there, hmm? Does that feel good?" 

You nod frantically with a stifled sob. 

"Not quite, baby. Need to hear you say it. Or I won't let you cum."

"...fuuck you."

" Oh, you'd like that. Still not what I want to hear. Tell me how much you like it when I fuck you with my fingers."

"F-Feels good." You stutter. He stops, wrenching his hand out of your pussy to leave you clenching around nothing.You almost scream.

"You're being a brat, not my princesa , hmm? Only good girls get to cum."

" Miguel , please. I'll do anything." He guides you along his thigh, still lodged between your legs, and licks up your wetness on his other hand. "You m-make me feel so good. So good. And I want you so much it hurts, sometimes. I just want to cum, don't even need your cock. Fuck me with something , please." 

"Miguel? Not asshole? Or fucking idiot, this time?" 

"Please, Miguel ." Your pleas go straight to his cock. He throbs with need, cock rock hard under his slacks. 

He relents, not able to bear your dopey puppy-dog eyes for much longer. He slips three fingers in, without bothering to prep you. He hisses at the tightness of your heat, pounding into you and knuckle deep with his fingers. Shamelessly, you fuck yourself back on them, hips rolling over his thigh. He can't tear himself away from the sight, palming himself through tented trousers. 

You kiss and nip at his neck, as he whispers obscenities at you under his breath. 

"Can you cum for me, princesa? Cum f'me, and I'll take care of you, I promise."

You clamp down on his fingers and moan into a kiss as you ride out your orgasm. It's intense: leg-shaking and leaves you shuddering in the aftermath. You were rusty, sure, hadn't had sex with someone in a while. But Miguel made you cum so hard you saw stars, with only his fingers. Your chest heaves with the thought. 

You thought he would leave you, torn stockings and all, in the little cupboard. But he stays, to sink down to his knees and lap at your folds. You rest a hand on a shelf for purchase, head back in bliss. You cunt is still sensitive, throbbing at the orgasm he's just given you, as you licks you clean. He's taking care of you. You card your hands into his hair, tugging gently as he moans into your pussy. 

He gives your clit a gentle kiss, and swipes up a trailing tear that rolls down your inner thigh. You watch as he pops his fingers into your mouth, cleaning off the cum. Your cum. 

Miguel gives you a lazy grin in the bare bulb of the equipment closet. He seems completely unfazed by the fact his fingers were in you not a moment ago. 

"Are you free after work?" He asks, and it takes a moment for you to process. 

"Uhhh… s-sure. Probably?" 

"Let me take you for dinner, somewhere nice."

All you can do is nod, dumbly, ripped stockings still around your ankles. 

"And then I can fuck you properly, princesa." 

_

_

_

[dedalvs]

My brother and I absolutely cackled after that Aemond and Aegon Valyrian exchange!

I wanted to ask (and I'm terrible at conlangs, so forgive me) what grammar/syntax Aegon is stumbling over here and how to properly say what he intended to? Any why is he making thise mistakes (simply lacking the vocabulary, or rules of the language he hasn’t grasped)?

Let's take a look at it. This is what he said:

Nyke koston... Bēvilus... Sētegon bīlīvāzmi?

The subtitles say this:

"I can... Have to... Make a war?"

Prior to this Aemond is, essentially, showing off. He knows that Aegon has simply not put any time into studying Valyrian (or studying anything). At this stage, Valyrian is no longer spoken by the family on a day-to-day basis—especially as Alicent probably never learned it at all (or if she did, only in a few scattered lessons here and there; not to actually use). In order for either of the boys to gain any kind of fluency in the language, they have to study constantly and find ways to use it. There's simply no daily need for the language—and plenty of reasons not to use it, as very, very few people they'll encounter on a daily basis speak the language.

Now, if we were talking about two random people in Westeros, this wouldn't mean anything. But these are the children of Viserys Targaryen, himself a descendant of Aegon the Conqueror. They brought their family line and their culture with them to Westeros—and, of course, their language. If someone like Alicent Hightower doesn't speak High Valyrian it means nothing. If a Targaryen doesn't speak High Valyrian, though… See, they're supposed to be able to speak Valyrian. Failing to do so carries with it a sense of shame that isn't present for a random person who doesn't speak Valyrian. Aemond knows this. Aegon is annoying him, so he goes poking at that wound.

Aemond could have fed him a short line with an obvious answer to help Aegon out, but instead he threw a whole mess of Valyrian at him. The longer it goes on, the more lost Aegon gets, desperately trying to catch up and figure out what was just said and thereby missing what is being said at that instant. From the whole speech, Aegon probably only figured out that he was being asked a question, and it was something having to do with planning.

So, back to what he says. The beginning student of a language is quite adept at doing a single verb in a present tense sentence. In a discussion like this, though, you're typically saying things like "I think that" or "We should" or "I suggest" or "Perhaps we might", etc. All that stuff that we need to offer opinions, make suggestions, hedge, etc. Much more than simple narration.

Aegon is attempting to do this without a sufficient command of the language. He knows some vocabulary, he knows some grammar, but he simply did not put in the work to actually speak this language. Thus, he has to overcome a lot of Common Tongue (i.e. English) interference.

There are many differences between Valyrian and English, but the biggest one by far is the major word order. In English, the verbs come before the rest of the junk; in Valyrian, they come at the end. And this is how things get all messed up.

In English, you start the sentence saying things like "I think" or "We should" or "It seems". In Valyrian, those things come at the end. If you start with the Valyrian equivalent of "I think", you will quickly realize (presuming you know enough of the grammar) that you're sunk, because once you've said it, the sentence should be done. Thus you get Aegon's false starts.

Starting at the beginning, Aegon says Nyke koston, which is kind of like saying, "I could". But there's nowhere to go. This is how a sentence ends. For example, if he wanted to say, "I could fly to Harrenhal", he would say Harenhalot sōvegon koston—literally "To Harrenhal fly I could". If you're thinking English-ly, you're essentially thinking backwards, and if you simply translate what you're thinking, you'll immediately have nowhere to go. You'll have to take a pause and think about how to get started again. And that's exactly what happens here.

Now, leaving aside that Valyrian is a pro-drop language and starting it off with nyke "I" is unnecessary and makes you look like a beginner, koston isn't bad (I mean, if used sentence-finally). Once he realizes he can't start there, though, he loses confidence. It's those old High Valyrian lessons all over again, and some maester suggesting he hasn't studied. That self-doubt makes his facility with Valyrian worse. This means his chances of recovery are severely hampered.

But onward he presses, and he decides to say "We have to" or "I have to". Now, the problem here is in Valyrian that requires the verb bēvilagon. This verb isn't used in the usual way. Literally it means "to lie on". If you wanted to say "We must mobilize our dragons", you'd say Īlvī zaldrīzī mazannagon īlo bēvilza. That's literally "Our dragons to mobilize us it lies upon". The one who must do something is placed in the genitive and put directly before the verb. If you start with the verb, well, you missed your chance to say who it is that must be doing something—let alone what they must do. Another false start.

It's also worth noting that he says bēvilus as opposed to bēvilza. Let's ignore that it's the aorist and focus on the fact that it's the subjunctive (just like koston). You use the subjunctive with your main verb when you're hedging—when you're suggesting. Not when you're commanding. Kind of an odd thing to say "We must do this" with the subjunctive. Kind of like saying "Maybe we might considering having to do this".

At this point, his confidence has completely evaporated. Everybody's staring at him like he has no idea what he's talking about; Aemond's eating it up. He knows he's cooked. He's got to say something, though, so he says sētegon which isn't even conjugated. It means "to make" or "to create", which might make sense in English (e.g. "to make war"), but doesn't make sense in Valyrian (a bit like saying "to construct a war" or even "to bake a war") and then tries to pronounce vīlībāzmi "war" (wrong case/number, wrong order) and fails, saying bīlīvāzmi, which means nothing (also he wanted vīlībāzme. Vīlībāzmi is "wars").

Long story short, he doesn't present himself very well—and we didn't even talk about his general pronunciation or intonation. It's kind of a great big mess in only five words. A true disaster.

But if there were no expectation that he should be able to speak Valyrian, none of this would matter! If there were no shame associated with him specifically not being able to speak Valyrian no one would expect it of him, and this challenge would mean as little as someone challenging him to speak the Old Tongue or Asshai'i. It'd be meaningless.

In short, this small portion of this scene is about being a heritage speaker of a language. It's the exact nightmare scenario all heritage speakers fear: To be put on stage and made to perform despite being unequal to the task while simultaneously feeling that they should be equal to it.

It'd be so cool if it was okay to be kind of good with a language—if that level of mastery was acceptable. In the real world, anyway.

[3hks]

CORRECTLY Writing "Morally Gray" Characters

Want to write a hot, cool, and bad character but DON'T want he/she to come across as toxic, downright bad, or, god forbid, cringe? Well, I've got a couple of tips that may help you create exactly what you want!

1. Softness

Okay, yes we want this character to be tough and cool, but there also needs to be a certain softness, no matter how small, that comes with them. If there's someone that your character prioritizes or cares about, there has to be a point or two that it shows--a moment where they're soft only for the people that they care about. Why? Because this establishes the humanity in them. It shows the readers that your character IS human, not an emotionless monster.

2. Goals

Key to any good characters are their goals. The thing is, for this type of a character, their objectives can't be so random. They need a reason for their actions, and it needs to be valid. Usually, this is reasoned out by some kind of past epiphany, which is crucial because without it, your character doesn't have anything solid backing up their goals. We need to see where they're coming from.

Bad decisions, but for an understandable reason.

Establishing their morals is important for nearly the same reason.

Now, why is this important? Because it can pull readers to their side. As long as they understand the cause, they have a chance to follow your character's side, increasing their likeability!

3. Neutrality

Notice how this is a "morally gray" character, not a "completely evil" one. Why does this matter? Well, a trait people tend to overlook when writing these characters is the morally gray, or neutral, part. It's important to just occasionally show that your character is walking the fine line and in my opinion, a great way to achieve this is to have them help the protagonist out (instead of always fighting against them) one, or even two times!

4. Positive Characteristics

This is a very simple one, but make sure to depict a couple positive qualities (besides just being hot) of your character! Like my first point, it's pivotal to illustrate that they have some humanity, and this is an easy and great way!

Throw in a few good characteristics (I have a post with some examples of redeeming qualities for villains if you need some help), and let it show that they are still respectable!

5. Backstory

I believe that with certain characters that play certain roles in the story, explaining their backstory is a NEED for them; and this character type is no different! Introducing even a bit of their past can get the audience interested in your character. It also allows for better understanding of them and shows how they changed over time.

6. CONFIDENCE

Be confident in your skills when writing this character! To many, the idea of "cringeness" makes them second-guess how they should write. In reality, it's better to write it however you wish, because if you're confident in one moment and clearly less in another, the readers are able to sense any unexpected changes in things in your character's tones, expressions, and actions.

It's important to keep your character in, well, character. Still, there's going to be a few moments that break it, but it shouldn't be in any unnatural way.

If your character is flirty, then let them act flirty. If they mess around a lot, then let them mess around. Don't limit their actions or words just because you think some people might find it cringe!

Alright, that's it for me! What do you think? Are they valid or unreasonable?

Happy writing~

3hks <3

[justdiptych]

There's a scene in Fallout: New Vegas that I find really interesting in how it uses skill checks in dialogue. A merchant company, the Crimson Caravan, want to buy out one of their rivals, Cassidy Caravans, and they hire the player character to negotiate the deal. The player has likely already met the rival company's owner, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, by this point - in fact, it's entirely possible that she suggested they ask the Crimson Caravan for work in the first place.

Cass is propping up the bar at a truck stop on the border near the game's opening area. She's heard that her caravan has been destroyed in her absence - her employees killed and their wagons burned in an attack on the road - but she can't investigate because of a bureaucratic hold-up. The man in charge of the border post, Ranger Jackson, has halted all commercial traffic across the border because of dangers on the roads - wild animals, bandits, and enemy soldiers - that the authorities are struggling to get under control.

When the player brings the Crimson Caravan's offer to Cass, she refuses on principle. Her business may have effectively been destroyed, but she's too proud and too stubborn to sell her surname for any number of messes of pottage. Convincing her requires that the player employs one of either their Speech or Barter skills - there are two options for each, requiring either moderate or high investments of skill points. Skill and Barter are the game's two Charisma-based skills, and it's not uncommon for them to appear side-by-side like this, but here, they diverge in application.

The easier Speech option is simple - the player just reminds Cass that, if she sells the business, she won't be commercial traffic anymore, so she'll be able to get across the border. She's itching to get on the road again, so this convinces her. (She will ask the player to help Jackson clear the roads for the benefit of her fellow merchants, but this is a very simple quest that they likely already completed hours ago.)

The more challenging Speech check is to tell Cass that there's no way her business can survive, so it's her duty to do the merciful thing - shoot it in the head, bury it, and move on with her life. This, naturally, brings her close to socking the player in the jaw, but she sees the truth in it. She's been holding onto the forlorn hope that there might be something left to save, but she really has lost everything. This bypasses Jackson's quest - she just wants to walk out and not look back.

The Barter options approach things differently - from the Speech options, and from each other. The more challenging one involves making some sport of the offer, challenging Cass to a drinking contest. The player has to supply the booze, and they run the risk of getting embarrassingly drunk if their Endurance stat is too low, but, either way, this will impress Cass enough that she'll sign the contract.

The easier Barter option, though, is, I think, the most interesting. It requires the player to sweeten the deal with their own money - a not insubstantial amount of it, in fact. Cass is still hesitant, though, which allows the player to make a very interesting point. With the money from the Crimson Caravan plus the player's contribution, she'd have enough to restart her business - buy new animals and equipment, hire a new crew, start trading again.

Further, the player can point out that the Crimson Caravan are unlikely to continue using the 'Cassidy Caravans' name after buying it. They're only buying her out to try to monopolise local trade, after all. If they don't use the name, they'll forfeit their rights to it - meaning that Cass can, as she puts it, take their money, give them nothing, and go back to running her business as if the attack never happened.

Cass, naturally, accepts this offer, though she's staggered that the player is so willing to sell out their employers to help her like this. (The player needn't feel any moral misgivings about doing so. A little investigation reveals that the attack on Cass's business was actually engineered by the Crimson Caravan themselves, in collusion with a crime family, in a conspiracy to wipe out their competition.)

I think this entire interaction represents how well New Vegas uses skill checks. Barter, in RPGs, is often a very barebones skill. Its use is letting the player earn more and spend less - as part of an equation determining shop prices, or in dialogue options that boil down to asking for money. It's not uncommon for Speech to be the skill of the peaceful, benevolent diplomat, while Barter is for common mercenaries.

Here, though, the Barter options actually cost more than their Speech equivalents. The player ends up out of pocket for a sizable chunk of change or at least a lot of booze. Instead, the Barter skill represents the character's understanding of common business practices and relevant laws. It allows them to convince Cass to accept a deal by finding a loophole that benefits her more than if she refused.

The equivalent Speech options, meanwhile, are effectively free, but do involve making Cass feel that little bit worse. They emphasise what she's lost, how trapped she is by her circumstances, and convince her to give up and let the Crimson Caravan win. In the long run, this doesn't make a real difference - once she leaves the outpost, she and the player can discover the conspiracy and get their revenge either way - but I think the choice does let the player say something about their character.

Part of the brilliance of this game is how little details, like Cass being stuck at the outpost, tie into other details all across the story. Caravan traffic is halted, in part, because deathclaws have nested near the roads to the north. They've nested there because the local quarry has ceased operations - the noise caused by the digging and blasting had previously scared them off.

The quarry closed down because escaped convicts raided it and stole the workers' stash of mining explosives. The convicts escaped because the government was using them for forced labour on the railroads, and foolishly entrusted them with enough dynamite to stage an uprising, seize control of the prison, and turn it into a fortress and a base of operations for banditry.

Similarly, the threads of Cass's story spread outwards, ultimately affecting the entire future of New California. When she learns that the Crimson Caravan and their allies killed her friends, Cass is furious. She wants to march over there and beat the snot out of the people responsible. The player can convince her to instead settle things legally - get proof of their crimes, pass them on to Ranger Jackson, and hope the justice system gets revenge for her.

If Cass does things her way, the criminals pay with their lives, but their bosses end up better off for it. With their regional execs murdered, the trading companies can claim that the government isn't doing enough to protect them - so, they don't have to support the government's interests, either. They withdraw trade, demand special treatment, and end up making their shortfall everyone's problem.

If the legal option is pursued, though, the evidence becomes blackmail material. The government has the trading companies over a barrel, and that lets them pass stricter trade laws. Given the choice of accepting regulation or facing criminal investigation, the crooked execs choose to stay out of jail. Those responsible for the murders technically avoid justice, but their hopes of a monopoly are dashed - and their superiors are unlikely to be pleased with them having hurt long-term profits so badly.

Cass's story is political and economical all the way through. It's about the influence of wealth on government, and the fundamental injustices of the carceral system. It's about revenge, and reform, and how to hit people where it hurts - their bottom line. And it's about how, sometimes, skills in an RPG aren't about making numbers go up - they're about how a character understands the world around them, and how they can apply that understanding to help someone out of a jam, or help reshape the trade lines of a whole nation.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Violence, Kidnapping, Alastor eating bitches

Description: Alastor's X Wife!Reader who gets kidnapped and how he deals with that

Alastor's relationship with you is a strong one, the two of of you drawn to each other in an almost supernatural way

But you also trust each other's strengths and aren't prone to stepping in each other's fights

Regardless of how powerful you are

I got your pinkie fingers bby go kick his ass

Holds your shopping bags for you while you go kick ass

Unless of course you ask him to

He likes it when you fix his hair afterwards, preening like a giant rooster as you do

THE POINT IS-

It's not like Alastor spends all his time glued to your hip or sending you out with bodyguards

You can take a damn walk by yourself

You do have a target on back though, if not because of your own strength/actions, then because of your husband

So it's not unusual when someone tries to pick a fight with you

But when you're suddenly ambushed and kidnapped, against the fact that you fought hard to avoid it

Fucking holy weapons

That's new

Well I suppose you'll just have to wait for your husband to come and get you out of this mess

*spits out blood*

Not you bragging about how fucked your kidnappers are once Alastor gets there

He's already going to be mad that they kidnapped his wife, but the fact that they've now put hands on you??? Made you bleed???

Oh they're so fucked

So just sit back and look pretty while you wait for your boo to come and rescue you

And you do look pretty

Keep your damn hands off

Alastor knows something is up when you don't come home, knows that someone must've gotten to you

If the old geezer watched tv maybe he would've known a little sooner

Maybe he would've known that your little fight made the news

Tf was he gonna do?? Wait for it to show up in the papers??

BREAKING NEWS!! RADIO DEMON'S BABE WIFE GETS KIDNAPPED AFTER EPIC BATTLE!

But when Angel shows him that you've been kidnapped Alastor literally just-

Makes this face:

Oh he's getting his wife back

RIP Angel's phone 😭

He's visibly very calm about the whole thing though, which makes the others even more worried

"Well then! I suppose I'll have to get Y/N back myself, won't I? You all wait here, I won't be long now~"

Alastor does give them a chance to give you back before he comes and hunts them down

It's one of the most terrifying radio broadcasts people have listened to but this is his WIFE we're talking about

On the inside he is VERY ANGRY

Even if they do bring you back he still eats them

Fuck them he never promised them anything

They took and HURT HIS WIFE

If they don't bring you back then they're going to be subjected to slaughter like they've never known before being eaten

Not him using his massive demonic form to rip apart their safe house

Anyone who doesn't know Alastor like you do will think he's being surprisingly playful about it all

But as his wifers you know he's raging by the look in his eyes 👀 not merely playing with his food

Not wifey just sitting back and admiring Alastor while he works 💅✨️

Damn this is really doing it for me

Admires how elegantly you stretch and rub your wrists after your bindings are undone, so graceful even after taking a beating

"Thank you, Alastor~ Right on time as always~"

He begs to differ

"Anything for you, my dear."

Won't really look at you until you grab his chin and force him to, Alastor giving you a guilty smile

Le kiss

Leans in to touch foreheads with you, the two of relaxing in each other's arms amongst the carnage

Casually licks the blood off your face to ruin the moment before taking your arm

"Now let's get you home, my darling~"

Doesn't leave you alone for the rest of the night, trying to hide the fact that he's fretting over you

You want to take a bath and get cleaned up? He'll help you!

You want to lay down and rest after a stressful day? He's actually pretty tired too so you two should go to bed together

Will 100% broadcast their screaming souls as a warning to anyone else who wants to try that little stunt again

Falls asleep to it actually, one arm wrapped around you as he drifts off so that when he wakes up, he'll know you're right there with him

He doesn't think any less of you, he's been beat before too

Don't remind him

Will absolutely call himself your hero for like a week straight and land himself in the doghouse by the end of it

[traegorn]

Girl you can rant and rave all day but we all know for a fact you can't vote your way out of this mess so your "genuinely, what else can we do?" sounds like pure cucked defeatism. This downward spiral of American fascism has proven stable, so no, voting isn't going to stop it. The democrats will never be pushed left - as proven by blatant history. I know this is your cue to list a bunch of social services or civil rights concessions a la #bidenwins but the drip violence of homophobia and abortion restrictions under republicans does not come close to the bipartisan armed tyranny that murders people in broad daylight.

Voting isn't going to solve any of this, and no voting isn't going to "clear the way" or make it easier to resist. Democrats have proven over and over and over again they will use the full force of violence to stop anything that truly threatens them and the ONLY WAY to stop American fascism is to threaten them, to threaten the very foundations of the system itself.

You exert all this effort, have all this pained frustration, over the weakest political action you can take. You are not challenging fascism or tyranny or helping any of the people harmed under bipartisan violence. You ignore these people and focus on "harm reduction" for the few who do benefit from the pitiful social safety nets democrats eke out only to be undermined in the next four or eight years as republicans INEVITABLY take back power. Such is the case of a two party system, as history proves. You're staving off the inevitable by exerting all this energy into electoralism, and the people you "save" by electing democrats are inevitably hurt anyways when republicans INEVITABLY take back power - because that's what the system guarantees.

You exist in a cycle of abuse with the American government, a punishment-reward system under the 2 parties that keeps you afraid of punishment and too desperate for reward that you ignore how the hand that feeds you is also putting kids in cages and blowing up babies overseas. You, and everyone who thinks like you, will never be the ones to save anybody.

Idk I was pissed and now got all sad again after writing this. Just so you know my being sad at the state of your ideology isn't a representation of my passivity that people like you like to construe - I am painfully politically active. But it's just...sick. You're stuck in an abusive cult and now I just feel bad for you

I'm usually a lot nicer when I reply to folks, but you brought a certain energy that deserves a different response. I want to be clear to any passersby who I'd normally be polite to in this kind of conversation: This energy is reserved only for chucklefucks who bring this kind of shit to me. Please do not take this as a reflection as to how I'd treat people willing to engage honestly and civilly with me. This anon came to me unprovoked, so they're getting a rather unique response.

So here we go.

Oi, shit head. This was the stupidest thing I've read all day.

Democrats 100% have moved left in the last 40 years. Are we still recovering from when they got dragged right by Reagan in the 80s? Yes. But we've made headway getting things back on track. You claim a lot of stuff here, but don't cite a single example. Likely because you just repeat what someone else told you on TikTok that one time. You couldn't find your way through actual theory if it smacked you in the face with its dick. But you don't want me to actually justify it.

Because your own words told me you'd dismiss any evidence I provided:

I know this is your cue to list a bunch of social services or civil rights concessions a la #bidenwins but the drip violence of homophobia and abortion restrictions under republicans does not come close to the bipartisan armed tyranny that murders people in broad daylight.

Bitch, this shit is a sliding scale. Trump authorized more drone strikes than Obama did in eight years. Are they bad? Yes. But if you're telling me you want more murders, Trump's your guy. Guess what, living in America means dealing with the fact that you've been complicit in genocide this whole time. Look at the land you stand on -- it is soaked in blood. Look at the smart phone you're reading this on, it literally came out of a genocide.

You bathe in blood every day, fucking figure it out.

We do our best to minimize harm. And if you'd ACTUALLY read or watched anything I've said, your two half dead braincells would have noticed the part where I constantly say "voting is not the end of your activism." It's the fucking start.

Either Harris or Trump will be the next President. Trump will be worse. If you aren't doing everything you can to stop him, you're not a leftist, you're a grandstanding piece of shit who doesn't care about anything other than the smell of your own farts.

You want to fuck up the two parties? Great. Put in the fucking work -- because the Presidential election ain't it, shithead. Build a real movement from the ground up. Build community, build a party system, run local candidates. When's the last time your ass went to a city council meeting or a school board meeting? Do you even know when they're held where you live?

But let's face it, you couldn't coalition build if you tried because you're so far up your own ass you kiss your small intestine goodnight.

Daddy Revolution ain't coming, shithead. There's work to do, so get your head out of your ass and do it.

You want Trump to win? Netanyahu would kiss you on the lips for it. Fuck off.