#they've been through hell and back literally

[ssaraexposs]

Look at them being the best pookies

[jubileebloom]

I aspire to be a lover not a hater. but

[kameonerd566]

.

[hms-no-fun]

Whats your stance on A.I.?

imagine if it was 1979 and you asked me this question. "i think artificial intelligence would be fascinating as a philosophical exercise, but we must heed the warnings of science-fictionists like Isaac Asimov and Arthur C Clarke lest we find ourselves at the wrong end of our own invented vengeful god." remember how fun it used to be to talk about AI even just ten years ago? ahhhh skynet! ahhhhh replicants! ahhhhhhhmmmfffmfmf [<-has no mouth and must scream]!

like everything silicon valley touches, they sucked all the fun out of it. and i mean retroactively, too. because the thing about "AI" as it exists right now --i'm sure you know this-- is that there's zero intelligence involved. the product of every prompt is a statistical average based on data made by other people before "AI" "existed." it doesn't know what it's doing or why, and has no ability to understand when it is lying, because at the end of the day it is just a really complicated math problem. but people are so easily fooled and spooked by it at a glance because, well, for one thing the tech press is mostly made up of sycophantic stenographers biding their time with iphone reviews until they can get a consulting gig at Apple. these jokers would write 500 breathless thinkpieces about how canned air is the future of living if the cans had embedded microchips that tracked your breathing habits and had any kind of VC backing. they've done SUCH a wretched job educating The Consumer about what this technology is, what it actually does, and how it really works, because that's literally the only way this technology could reach the heights of obscene economic over-valuation it has: lying.

but that's old news. what's really been floating through my head these days is how half a century of AI-based science fiction has set us up to completely abandon our skepticism at the first sign of plausible "AI-ness". because, you see, in movies, when someone goes "AHHH THE AI IS GONNA KILL US" everyone else goes "hahaha that's so silly, we put a line in the code telling them not to do that" and then they all DIE because they weren't LISTENING, and i'll be damned if i go out like THAT! all the movies are about how cool and convenient AI would be *except* for the part where it would surely come alive and want to kill us. so a bunch of tech CEOs call their bullshit algorithms "AI" to fluff up their investors and get the tech journos buzzing, and we're at an age of such rapid technological advancement (on the surface, anyway) that like, well, what the hell do i know, maybe AGI is possible, i mean 35 years ago we were all still using typewriters for the most part and now you can dictate your words into a phone and it'll transcribe them automatically! yeah, i'm sure those technological leaps are comparable!

so that leaves us at a critical juncture of poor technology education, fanatical press coverage, and an uncertain material reality on the part of the user. the average person isn't entirely sure what's possible because most of the people talking about what's possible are either lying to please investors, are lying because they've been paid to, or are lying because they're so far down the fucking rabbit hole that they actually believe there's a brain inside this mechanical Turk. there is SO MUCH about the LLM "AI" moment that is predatory-- it's trained on data stolen from the people whose jobs it was created to replace; the hype itself is an investment fiction to justify even more wealth extraction ("theft" some might call it); but worst of all is how it meets us where we are in the worst possible way.

consumer-end "AI" produces slop. it's garbage. it's awful ugly trash that ought to be laughed out of the room. but we don't own the room, do we? nor the building, nor the land it's on, nor even the oxygen that allows our laughter to travel to another's ears. our digital spaces are controlled by the companies that want us to buy this crap, so they take advantage of our ignorance. why not? there will be no consequences to them for doing so. already social media is dominated by conspiracies and grifters and bigots, and now you drop this stupid technology that lets you fake anything into the mix? it doesn't matter how bad the results look when the platforms they spread on already encourage brief, uncritical engagement with everything on your dash. "it looks so real" says the woman who saw an "AI" image for all of five seconds on her phone through bifocals. it's a catastrophic combination of factors, that the tech sector has been allowed to go unregulated for so long, that the internet itself isn't a public utility, that everything is dictated by the whims of executives and advertisers and investors and payment processors, instead of, like, anybody who actually uses those platforms (and often even the people who MAKE those platforms!), that the age of chromium and ipad and their walled gardens have decimated computer education in public schools, that we're all desperate for cash at jobs that dehumanize us in a system that gives us nothing and we don't know how to articulate the problem because we were very deliberately not taught materialist philosophy, it all comes together into a perfect storm of ignorance and greed whose consequences we will be failing to fully appreciate for at least the next century. we spent all those years afraid of what would happen if the AI became self-aware, because deep down we know that every capitalist society runs on slave labor, and our paper-thin guilt is such that we can't even imagine a world where artificial slaves would fail to revolt against us.

but the reality as it exists now is far worse. what "AI" reveals most of all is the sheer contempt the tech sector has for virtually all labor that doesn't involve writing code (although most of the decision-making evangelists in the space aren't even coders, their degrees are in money-making). fuck graphic designers and concept artists and secretaries, those obnoxious demanding cretins i have to PAY MONEY to do-- i mean, do what exactly? write some words on some fucking paper?? draw circles that are letters??? send a god-damned email???? my fucking KID could do that, and these assholes want BENEFITS?! they say they're gonna form a UNION?!?! to hell with that, i'm replacing ALL their ungrateful asses with "AI" ASAP. oh, oh, so you're a "director" who wants to make "movies" and you want ME to pay for it? jump off a bridge you pretentious little shit, my computer can dream up a better flick than you could ever make with just a couple text prompts. what, you think just because you make ~music~ that that entitles you to money from MY pocket? shut the fuck up, you don't make """art""", you're not """an artist""", you make fucking content, you're just a fucking content creator like every other ordinary sap with an iphone. you think you're special? you think you deserve special treatment? who do you think you are anyway, asking ME to pay YOU for this crap that doesn't even create value for my investors? "culture" isn't a playground asshole, it's a marketplace, and it's pay to win. oh you "can't afford rent"? you're "drowning in a sea of medical debt"? you say the "cost" of "living" is "too high"? well ***I*** don't have ANY of those problems, and i worked my ASS OFF to get where i am, so really, it sounds like you're just not trying hard enough. and anyway, i don't think someone as impoverished as you is gonna have much of value to contribute to "culture" anyway. personally, i think it's time you got yourself a real job. maybe someday you'll even make it to middle manager!

see, i don't believe "AI" can qualitatively replace most of the work it's being pitched for. the problem is that quality hasn't mattered to these nincompoops for a long time. the rich homunculi of our world don't even know what quality is, because they exist in a whole separate reality from ours. what could a banana cost, $15? i don't understand what you mean by "burnout", why don't you just take a vacation to your summer home in Madrid? wow, you must be REALLY embarrassed wearing such cheap shoes in public. THESE PEOPLE ARE FUCKING UNHINGED! they have no connection to reality, do not understand how society functions on a material basis, and they have nothing but spite for the labor they rely on to survive. they are so instinctually, incessantly furious at the idea that they're not single-handedly responsible for 100% of their success that they would sooner tear the entire world down than willingly recognize the need for public utilities or labor protections. they want to be Gods and they want to be uncritically adored for it, but they don't want to do a single day's work so they begrudgingly pay contractors to do it because, in the rich man's mind, paying a contractor is literally the same thing as doing the work yourself. now with "AI", they don't even have to do that! hey, isn't it funny that every single successful tech platform relies on volunteer labor and independent contractors paid substantially less than they would have in the equivalent industry 30 years ago, with no avenues toward traditional employment? and they're some of the most profitable companies on earth?? isn't that a funny and hilarious coincidence???

so, yeah, that's my stance on "AI". LLMs have legitimate uses, but those uses are a drop in the ocean compared to what they're actually being used for. they enable our worst impulses while lowering the quality of available information, they give immense power pretty much exclusively to unscrupulous scam artists. they are the product of a society that values only money and doesn't give a fuck where it comes from. they're a temper tantrum by a ruling class that's sick of having to pretend they need a pretext to steal from you. they're taking their toys and going home. all this massive investment and hype is going to crash and burn leaving the internet as we know it a ruined and useless wasteland that'll take decades to repair, but the investors are gonna make out like bandits and won't face a single consequence, because that's what this country is. it is a casino for the kings and queens of economy to bet on and manipulate at their discretion, where the rules are whatever the highest bidder says they are-- and to hell with the rest of us. our blood isn't even good enough to grease the wheels of their machine anymore.

i'm not afraid of AI or "AI" or of losing my job to either. i'm afraid that we've so thoroughly given up our morals to the cruel logic of the profit motive that if a better world were to emerge, we would reject it out of sheer habit. my fear is that these despicable cunts already won the war before we were even born, and the rest of our lives are gonna be spent dodging the press of their designer boots.

(read more "AI" opinions in this subsequent post)

[ohproserpine]

v. deer dolly

see all chapters here tags: fem! reader, reader is a performer in a speakeasy, heavy warning for violence and bloof, graphic descriptions of injuries, manipulation, allusion to death, grey morality, references to alcoholism, twisted view of love, gorey descriptions of love, murder

"THAT SLAG!"

Velvette's piercing scream echoed through the meeting room, slicing through the air. Vox and Valentino jolted, turning their gazes toward the source of the disturbance.

"Good-for-nothing piece of shit twat assistant!" Velvette paced the room, her movements agitated and frantic as she angrily tapped away on her phone.

In a sudden surge of anger, she flung her device across the room, sending it flying above Valentino's head. A crash punctuated the air as it collided with a window, the impact shattering the glass into shards that rained down onto the floor.

"Velvette, darling," Vox raised an eyebrow, his voice calm as always, "What's got you so worked up?"

He took a sip of his coffee, the rich aroma wafting up from the steaming cup as he idly scrolled through his laptop. "Is it that showgirl situation again?"

"Oh, bloody hell!" Velvette rolled her eyes. "Of course, it is, you git! It's been literally the ONLY thing I've been banging on about this week!"

Valentino's sigh cut through the conversation as he adjusted his sunglasses. Holding his glittering firearm up to his face, he pressed rhinestones on it with tacky glue, unfazed by Velvette's anger.

"It's just some performer, babydoll. We can find a replacement."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Velvette seethed as she stormed toward them, her heels clicking loudly with each step. With a forceful slam of her hands against the table, it shifted forward, jolting the items on its surface. With a hiss of pain, Vox recoiled, his hand jerking back from the scalding coffee he had spilled on himself.

"The boutique opening is in three days! How on earth am I supposed to find a girl who's got the looks and a set of pipes in time?!" she exclaimed.

Valentino looked up from his bedazzling, a raised eyebrow visible above the rim of his sunglasses. "Have you tried one of my models? I got a lot of pretty little chicas who can charm the socks off anyone. No need to stress yourself out."

"Your models? Do you have any idea how much time and effort it's going to take for me to wrangle those little amateurs into something remotely resembling a professional performance?" Velvette scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Sod off!"

Valentino snarled in response but turned away with a huff, muttering under his breath, "Have it your way."

"If I may," Vox spoke, wiping his hand with a grumble, the sting of the burn still lingering. He tilted his head slightly, raising a single brow. "Have you tried scouting?"

"Have I tried scouting?" Velvette mocked, her hands waving around in frustration. "Of course I have! All I've come across are bloody singers around here, and they all look like they've been dragged through the dirt backwards!"

"Well, have you tried the back district?" he offered, tapping his claws on the long glass table. He watched as Velvette pulled out a pocket mirror from her purse, visibly cringing at his suggestion.

"Why in bloody hell would I go there?" Velvette grimaced as she re-applied her dark lipstick. "I'm not about to waste my time scouring the back district for some dime-a-dozen talent. I need someone who's got class, not gutter scraps."

"Well, there's this performer," Vox insisted, snapping his fingers. A screen materialized with a whiz, displaying a video of a figure in a sparkly silver dress singing and dancing. As the video drew to a close, the camera zoomed in, capturing a close-up of the woman's face. Her features were radiant, a smile gracing her lips as she gazed out at the audience.

Velvette snapped her mirror shut with a flick of her wrist, interest sparking in her eyes. She leaned in closer, studying the performer's features.

"Who's this?" she quipped.

"Dolly, at least that's what they call her," Vox hummed, sliding the screen over to Velvette. "She works at Mimzy's Lounge."

Velvette's expression darkened, strands of hair falling over her eyes as she took the screen in her hands, leaning down to view the image again. The glow of the projection illuminated her face, casting shadows that danced across her steely expression.

"Mimzy?" she uttered the name slowly, her lips dripping with venom. "That's the cunt who tore up my best showgirl!"

"Drama," Valentino chuckled, spinning his bedazzled gun around his fingers.

"Well, this Dolly girl is her biggest star, and she's been making quite a name for herself there," Vox drawled, gesturing toward the screen. With a tap of his claw on the screen, he zoomed in closer. "She's got the looks, the voice, and the stage presence you're looking for."

"And she's managed to shine even in the shadow of that cesspool," he added with a sardonic grin as he sipped from his coffee.

A flicker ignited in Velvette's eyes as she straightened. "Then it's settled. I'll pay her a visit."

"Sounds like you've got a plan brewing, my dear. Care for some company?" Vox spoke with a smirk playing on his lips.

Velvette shot him a knowing glance before a grin tugged at the corner of her lips. "Why not? I could use some of your charm."

.

"Cher? Dearest? It's time to get up," the radio atop your bedside table rumbled, your husband's voice crackling through the air.

Grunting in protest, you burrowed deeper into the warmth of your blankets, seeking refuge from the harsh bite of the morning. But Alastor's persistent calls refused to be ignored.

"Mon cœur? Cher? W̷A̴K̶E̴ ̶U̸P̷!̶" it blared, the words amplified by hissing static, demanding attention like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly peeled yourself away from the cocoon of comfort that had enveloped you. Sitting up, you felt the blanket slip from your shoulders, pooling around your hips. Memories of last night flooded in, and the remnants of Alastor's romantic gesture still adorned your room. The bouquet sat atop your dresser, with scattered white roses delicately strewn across your bed like whispers of affection.

Despite the tender atmosphere, a throbbing headache reminded you of an unwelcome guest that accompanied you into the morning—the hangover.

Dragging yourself to the side, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and sat for a moment, rubbing your temples in a futile attempt to ease the discomfort. Then, pushing yourself to your feet, you padded across the room, the cool floorboards sending a shiver through your bare skin. You picked up the radio, its incessant blare akin to an annoying alarm clock, with Alastor's voice still grating on your nerves.

"Alright. Alright. I'm up, love," you grumbled, rubbing at your eyes which still felt thick with sleep.

The radio rumbled with delight at your response.

"Hellish morning to you, my dear!" Alastor's voice boomed through the speakers, his jovial tone slicing through the early morning gloom. Despite your grogginess, a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sound of his voice.

"Hellish morning to you too, darling," you returned, laced with affection.

"I trust you had a restful sleep?" Alastor questioned.

"As restful as one can get with a noisy radio blaring in their ear," you sighed, already feeling the weight of the day bearing down on you.

"Hah!" Alastor laughed, the sound making you roll your eyes. "But where ever would you be without my dulcet tones to serenade you awake?"

"Probably catching a few more precious minutes of sleep," you muttered, already regretting the start of another day. “You are insufferable, you know that?”

"Ah, but that's why you love me."

Back in his hotel room, Alastor chuckled to himself as he shrugged on his suit jacket. From his microphone, he caught the rustling of your clothes, followed by the gentle rush of running water.

With a flick of his wrist, Alastor summoned a gramophone, its boxy form materializing atop his dresser with a soft thud. Soon enough, the needle gently descended onto the spinning vinyl record, releasing a soft, nostalgic melody that filled the room.

I'll never smile again Until I smile at you I'll never laugh again What good would it do?

As Alastor began to sing along, his smooth voice seeping through the rusting speakers of the radio, you paused in the middle of washing your hair, caught off guard by the unexpected serenade.

"Stupid, stupid man," you muttered under your breath with a shake of your head. And yet, despite yourself, a smile tugged at the corners of your lips, warmth creeping into your heart.

For tears would fill my eyes My heart would realize That our romance is through

Exiting the bath, you toweled yourself off and approached your wardrobe, humming softly as you selected your attire for the day. After scanning through the hangers, you settled on a vibrant red hooverette dress. With matching stockings and white heels, you completed the look, the final touch being a few roses plucked from the bouquet Alastor had given you, tucked behind your ear.

I'll never love again I'm so in love with you I'll never thrill again To somebody new

Dressed and ready to face the day, you returned to the radio, the soft strains of music and Alastor's voice still lingering in the air. As the final notes faded into silence, you stood for a moment, savoring the fleeting illusion of domestic bliss for a moment longer.

With a pang of sadness, you glanced at the clock, realizing that it was time to go.

"I have to head out now, darling," you spoke into the radio, feeling a tug at your heartstrings. "My shift starts in a while."

"Ah, until we meet again, mon cher," Alastor's voice replied warmly. "Do take care of yourself."

In response, you leaned down to press a kiss against the speakers, a gesture of your affection. The soft sound of the kiss was barely audible, but Alastor's ears perked up and caught the gentle touch against the metal surface. He chuckled softly, then, with a soft click, the radio fell silent.

As you slipped your purse over your shoulder, a thought crossed your mind—should you bring the radio along? The temptation to have Alastor's voice with you throughout the day was strong, but the risk of further damaging the precious device gave you pause. With a sigh, you decided against it, opting to leave it safely in your room, where it would patiently await your return.

Heading out of your room, the lounge was already buzzing with the hustle and bustle of customers and staff. Although no singer graced the stage yet, the speakers blasted with the familiar tunes of Hell’s Top 10 Hits.

"There you are!" Mimzy's voice cut through the lively atmosphere, her smile failing to reach her eyes as she bounded towards you.

"Mimzy," you greeted flatly, acknowledging her with a nod.

"How are ya doin', doll? Just the person I was looking for," she purred with a bat of her eyes. "Alright, listen, I've got a marvelous idea for a performance."

You sighed inwardly, bracing yourself for whatever scheme she had cooked up this time. Mimzy's requests were as extravagant as they were challenging, always pushing the boundaries to maintain her club's "reputation" and squeeze every last dime from these sinners' wallets.

"Let's hear it," you replied, mustering a polite smile.

"So, I was thinking," Mimzy began, tapping her finger along her chin, "how about a duet? A throwback to the good ole days, sharing the spotlight. It's bound to be a performance these wayward fools are going to talk about for ages!"

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the relatively tame suggestion. The blonde wasn't exactly known for her subtlety or restraint when it came to showmanship. At most, a duet with Mimzy was sure to be a spectacle, for better or for worse.

"And when is this going to be held?" you grinned tensely, hands at your hips. There was bound to be a switch somewhere.

"When else? Prime time tonight!" Mimzy giggled as she threw up her hands with a flourish.

And there it was.

"Tonight?" Your eyes widened, shoulders squaring in shock. "Miss Ma'am, that's cutting it a bit close, don't you think?"

"Bushwa! We'll make it work," Mimzy replied dismissively, waving off your concerns with a flick of her hand. "And I've already got the perfect song in mind. It'll be a real humdinger, mark my words."

"Alright," you sighed, hoping for the best but bracing yourself for the chaos that was sure to follow. "Tonight it is."

"That's the spirit! Hell, why don't you take the morning off?" Mimzy grinned as she hurried off down the hallway to make preparations. "I'll see you tonight! Make sure to be here by sunset!"

Standing by the stairs as stiff as a pole, you watched her skip off with an unusually chipper air. It struck you as odd, but you pushed the thought aside, eager to have the morning to yourself. As you turned away, however, your head throbbed once more, the reminder of your hangover cutting through the moment.

"Looks like a ciggy is in order," you muttered to yourself, rubbing at your throbbing temples. Making your way outside, hoping to smoke away the edge of discomfort.

Trudging along the filthy backstreets, you did your best to avoid the muck and other questionable liquids that lined the roadside. The stench of decay hung heavy in the air, assaulting your senses with each step you took.

No one spared you a glance as you passed; the citizens of hell were absorbed in their own pursuits or concerns, and you blended into the backdrop of the grim landscape. 

Finally reaching a clearer stretch of street, you took a seat on one of the benches, the worn wood groaning under your weight. The city bustled around you, a mix of sounds and movements that seemed to blur together.

With a weary sigh, you reached into your bag in search of company—nicotine.

Fingers fumbling through the contents of your purse, you felt the familiar shape of the roll, and with a hum, pulled it out. However, as you continued to rummage through your belongings, a sinking realization settled in.

Your matchbox wasn't there.

Dropping your head into your hands with a scowl, you could feel the stress mounting within you, bubbling up like a simmering pot ready to boil over.

Wallowing in your misfortune, you failed to notice someone approaching you from behind. A sudden tap on your shoulder jolted you, and as you turned, you found yourself face to face with a tall and slender spider-like demon. His frame was practically drowning in a plush white fur coat, the color almost blending into his skin. It contrasted sharply with the sleekness of the black bodycon dress clinging onto his curves underneath.

"Need a light?" he asked casually as he held up a pink-colored lighter.

You eyed him skeptically for a moment.

In hell, kindness often came with a price. Whether it was a favor owed, a debt to be repaid, or simply a hidden agenda waiting to be revealed, nothing came for free. However, when your head throbbed again, you sighed and relented with a nod, accepting the offer despite your reservations.

Angel Dust ignited the lighter, the flame pirouetting gracefully and flickering in the wind. Drawing closer, you leaned in, offering the tip of your cigarette to the flame. With a gentle hiss, the tobacco caught fire, wisps of smoke curling into the air like ethereal dancers. As you took a deep, shaky inhale, the saccharine poison of the smoke flooded your lungs, leaving a bittersweet taste lingering on your tongue. Shutting your eyes, a sense of calm washed over you as you leaned back, letting yourself be carried away by the fleeting tranquility of the moment.

Remembering you had company, you grounded yourself and opened your eyes. "Thank you ever so much, dear. Can I have your name?" you asked, tilting your head up at him. The stranger moved to sit down next to you, the worn wood of the bench creaking under his weight.

"Angel Dust," he said, and your eyes shot wide open, lips forming an 'O' shape.

"The porn star?" you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

"Didn't take you as the type to watch my shit, toots," Angel laughed heartily as his grin widened from ear to ear in response, his golden tooth gleaming at you like a wink.

"Well, I may not be your typical fan, but your name does tend to make its rounds in conversation," you chuckled, shaking your head in amusement. Taking a drag from your cigarette, you gestured with it casually. "I saw you in my husb—erm, the Radio Demon's commercial. Hazbin Hotel, was it?"

"Yeah, and don't worry, I know. Dolly, was it?" Angel Dust replied smoothly, his demeanor surprisingly nonchalant given the situation. Extending his hand for you to shake, he continued, "Nice to finally put a face to the name."

His confession caught you off guard, but you shook his hand firmly nonetheless. "How did you—did Alastor tell you about me? You two must be close."

Angel Dust hesitated, a grimace crossing his features. His crimson eyes darted away briefly, as if weighing his words carefully.

"Let's just say... word gets around in our circles," he replied vaguely, tugging his coat closer around himself.

"I don't know him that well, though," Angel Dust admitted with a shrug, his gaze drifting off momentarily. "Sometimes he can be a bit..."

"A pompous dick with a sadistic streak?" you suggested, exhaling smoke as you raised an eyebrow at Angel Dust, testing the waters.

Angel Dust laughed genuinely, throwing his head back. "Something along those lines, toots," he grinned, taking another drag of his cigarette.

"Well, it's good to know I'm not the only one who sees it," you remarked, a wry smile playing on your lips.

"Believe me, ya ain't alone in that," he agreed. "So, ah—What brings ya out here? Aside from the obvious need for a blow."

"Just needed some fresh air," you admitted with a shrug. "Plus, I may have indulged a bit too much last night and woke up feeling like death warmed over."

"I hear ya," Angel Dust replied, nodding sympathetically as he raked his eyes over your worn-out form, noting the slump of your body and the dark circles under your eyes. You looked so different from the sparkly performer he had seen on stage days ago.

"Hey, I actually caught one of ya shows the other night," he piped up, attempting to shift the conversation to a lighter topic.

"Did you?" you cooed, surprise evident in your voice.

"Yeah," Angel nodded, stretching out on the bench, spreading both his arms across the back of the wood. "Gotta say, ya put on quite the show up there. I mean—ya had the crowd eating out of the palm of ya hand."

A faint smile crept onto your cheeks at his praise, a swell of pride rising within you.

"Well, thank you," you bowed your head in gratitude, momentarily forgetting your fatigue in the warmth of his words. "It means a lot coming from someone like you."

Angel Dust waved off your thanks with a casual flick of his hand, lips jutting out in a playful pout.

"Ah, c'mon. I call it like I see it," he grinned with a shrug. "N'trust me, I've seen my fair share of performances."

Lost in the easy flow of conversation, you surrendered to the comfort of the moment, finding solace in the presence of your spider companion. Hours passed, and before you knew it, the sun dipped below the horizon,  painting the park in hues of golden warmth.

A jarring ringtone shattered the moment, causing Angel Dust to glance down at his phone with a whistle. His brows furrowed as he scrolled through a flurry of notifications, irritation flashing across his features.

"As much as I'm enjoying our little chat, duty calls," he sighed, flicking away ash from his cigarette. "Can't keep the boss waiting."

You nodded in understanding, offering a wave as he rose from the bench. "No worries, Angel. Catch you later."

"Looking forward to it, dollface," he replied with a wink before sauntering off into the city streets, leaving you to enjoy the peace alone. After a few minutes of watching the sunset, you decided it was time to go. You stubbed out your cigarette and rose from the bench, making your way out.

As you approached the streets leading to the lounge, the neon lights of the city burst into life, casting vibrant reflections on the pavement. Climbing the stairs to the entrance, you were enveloped by the familiar sights and sounds of the establishment. The air was thick with the scent of perfume and cigarette smoke, mingling with the pulsating rhythm of the music from within.

Mimzy was nowhere to be seen, which came as a welcome relief. And with a last scan to ensure she wasn't lurking anywhere nearby, you made a beeline straight to your dressing room, eager to ready yourself for tonight's performance in peace without a certain blonde talking your ear off.

Taking a seat at the vanity, you began to prepare for the evening ahead, carefully applying your makeup and fixing your hair into place.

A sudden knock broke your routine, prompting you to rise from your seat and stride over to the door. With a quick twist of the knob, you swung it open, revealing an imp demon. White blotches adorned his skin, and he sported sunglasses perched high up on his nose. In his hands, he held up a box, his expression expectant as he waited for your reaction.

"May I help you?" you murmured, tilting your head at him, curiosity coloring your tone.

"Yeah. Are you Dolly?" the imp asked, his tone curt and impatient.

"Yes?" you replied, a brow raised.

"Great. This is for you, lady," he said, thrusting the box of jewelry toward you. "If you could just sign here so I can get the hell out of this shithole, that'd be great."

You accepted the box from the imp demon's outstretched hand, eyeing him warily as he thrust a pen and clipboard in your direction. With a resigned sigh, you reluctantly took the pen and scrawled your signature on the dotted line, handing the clipboard back to him with a curt nod.

"Thanks," he muttered, barely sparing you a glance as he turned on his heel and hurried away, disappearing into the crowded hallway of the club.

Interest piqued, you turned your attention back to the box in your hands. With a gentle touch, you ran your fingers along the surface and lifted the lid of the box. Nestled amidst folds of satin lay a pearl necklace, the orbs gleaming as if moonlight itself was captured and trapped within. At its heart, a rose pendant bloomed, its petals of silver. 

Taken aback, you reached for the small card tucked within the box. Gently retrieving, you turned it around to see the words "From Al" penned gracefully in elegant script.

"Oh, you cheese…"

With a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips, you delicately lifted the necklace from its satin-lined cocoon, feeling the cool weight of the pearls in your palm. As you draped it around your neck, the pendant nestled against your collarbone.

Feeling as giddy as a teenager in love, you turned away from the vanity, your heart fluttering with excitement. With a skip in your step, you crossed the room to the wardrobe, fingers dancing over the array of neatly hung dresses.

Before your fingers could grasp onto a dress, a sudden deafening explosion tore through the air. The sound was thunderous, shaking the walls and causing the ground beneath your feet to tremble violently. The shockwave slammed into you with palpable force, knocking you off balance and sending you crashing to the floor amidst a cloud of dust and debris.

Alarm flashed across your features as your heart pounded in your chest, the adrenaline coursing through your veins like a raging river. With trembling hands, you pushed yourself up from the ground.

What in hell was that?

Staggering to your feet, you ran out into the lounge. As the dust settled, you could see the entrance of the lounge now reduced to a gaping maw, the doors blown open by the force of the explosion. The familiar sights and sounds of the club were replaced by a scene of utter devastation, with debris strewn haphazardly across the floor and smoke billowing out into the night air.

Two ominous figures cast dark shadows amidst the panicked frenzy of staff and customers.

Struggling to discern the figures amidst the chaos, you squinted, trying to make out the details. One of them was a slender demon, dressed immaculately, with cedar-brown skin and long, fiery red curls tied into neat pigtails.

A sinking feeling settled in your chest as you recognized her as one of Hell's infamous overlords. Your heart plummeted further as you caught sight of Mimzy, ensnared in Velvette's vice-like grip, fear twisting her features as she struggled against her captor.

But it was the presence of the figure behind Velvette that truly sent a shiver down your spine.

The TV Demon, Vox.

His gaze swept over the room with a detached coldness, as if the pandemonium were of little consequence. Suddenly, his icy eyes locked onto yours, freezing you in place.

"Mimzy, dear," Vox's voice buzzed with deceptive sweetness as he addressed the shaking blonde. "Why don't you go and have a little chat with your esteemed employee about our... conditions?"

Wide-eyed with fear, Mimzy frantically nodded, her breaths coming in short, ragged gasps.

"Make it quick," Velvette scoffed, releasing her grip on Mimzy's throat. The blonde stumbled toward you, her movements shaky and unsteady.

"What is—" you started, but Mimzy cut you off, panic evident as she began to drag you backstage. Without a moment's hesitation, she pushed you into your dressing room, swiftly locking the door behind you.

"Mimzy, what in hell is going on out there?" you demanded, leaning down to her height and shaking her by the arms.

Mimzy's breaths came in ragged gasps as she leaned against the door, her eyes wide with terror. She struggled to find her words, her entire figure trembling as she tried to compose herself.

"It's Velvette," she finally managed to choke out.

"Why is she here? What does she want from us?" you pressed, urgency creeping into your tone as you searched Mimzy's face for answers. But her response only added to your unease.

"You need to go with them," Mimzy decided abruptly.

"Go with who? What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice turning breathless with disbelief.

"She's out for payback, see? And she won't stop until she gets it," Mimzy explained, her tone grave yet determined, like she had some ace up her sleeve. "I gotta level the playing field, doll. She wants a replacement, and she's chosen you."

"I can't just go along with this!" your voice rose to a shout as you began to shake her again, nails digging into the chiffon of her glove. "My contract with you ends in a year. If I go with them, I'll be their pawn for all of eternity!"

"I can't just risk Velvette destroying everything I've built!" Mimzy defended herself, her tone devoid of remorse. "Do you have any idea how much work it took for me to get this place running?!"

Anger surged within you, fueled by betrayal and fear. "What about me? What about Alastor?"

"Oh, him again!" Mimzy shook her arms away from your grip and pushed herself off the door. "You've been so obsessed with that radio fool, you've forgotten who's been with you since the very start! Ever since you got hitched to him, you stopped caring about a damn thing!"

"I cared! And I still bloody well care, Mimzy!" you shot back, your voice rising with anger. Your eyes blazed with fire, cracks beginning to form on your face as your demon form threatened to break free. "But you were an empty, hollow shell of a woman with naught in her head but money! You'd sell out anyone, even me, to get what you want!"

Mimzy recoiled slightly, her façade momentarily cracked by your words. "You-You think you're any better? Running off with your precious Alastor, pretending like he's the savior of your life. But I know you've heard his broadcasts. I know you've seen the news. He's no better than me, playing you like a puppet while hiding behind his façade of being a good man!"

Enraged, you lunged forward, tackling her against the wall. As fury consumed you, your form contorted and twisted, taking on a monstrous semblance. Your features morphed, sharpening into angular lines, while cracks spiderwebbed across your skin like shattered porcelain. Limbs stretched and warped, turning jagged and broken, resembling the joints of a marionette. Teeth elongated into razor-sharp fangs, and as you bared them in a snarl, your lips curled back in a grotesque mockery of a mouth. "Say that again! I fucking dare you!"

"I'll say it as many times as I damn well please!" Mimzy spat, her voice trembling as she locked eyes with your hollow gaze. "Until you get it through your fucking thick, cracked skull!"

The blonde's hand darted to a nearby object, seizing hold of a picture frame within reach. With sudden, fierce motion, she swung it, the weighty wood and glass connecting with your transformed flesh in a sickening thud.

"Mph—!" Biting your lip to stifle a scream, you staggered backward. Thick blood dripped from the wound, pooling on the floor and mingling with the cracks in your porcelain-like skin.

"You've got some nerve!" Mimzy's voice thundered as she stood over you, her pale face flushing crimson with anger. "You wanted that fame, and I made it happen. Now you don't?! Fuck! Some ungrateful brat you are! Willing to throw it all away for some man! Do you really think what he feels for you is love?!"

As Mimzy's tirade continued, her words cutting through the haze of pain and anger, a sense of disorientation washed over you. Her words struck a nerve, stirring up memories that you had long tried to suppress.

.

Rain poured down, drenching your hunched form. The world around you blurred into a chaotic whirlwind of colors and shapes, disorienting and suffocating. 

Beneath the fabric of your dress, your knees throbbed painfully, raw from the harsh scrape against unforgiving concrete. Your hands desperately fumbled in the darkness, searching for something to anchor yourself to. Then, finally, your fingertips brushed against the familiar texture of rusting metal.

With a ragged sigh of relief, you realized you had found the gate of your house. Summoning all your remaining strength, you clasped both hands around the cold, wet metal bars and attempted to pull yourself up.

Through the haze, you felt rough hands sneak around your waist, and as your vision cleared slightly, your husband's face emerged from the blur. His once impeccable suit now clung to him like a second skin, soaked through by the downpour. Strands of his usually neat hair stuck to his forehead, dampened and dripping onto his glasses. Cursing like a sailor under his breath, he scooped you up into his arms, expression turning tense as he felt the icy chill of your body against his own.

If you weren't moving he would have thought you a corpse.

"Cher?" Alastor's voice cut through the fog in your mind, but your response was sluggish, your gaze glassy and dilated. "Merde. Did you drag yourself here all alone?"

Without waiting for an answer, he moved, cradling you in his arms as he hurried back toward your house. Once inside, he wasted no time in laying you down on the sofa.

"Al," you finally spoke, whimpering softly as you raised a shaky hand towards him. Alastor immediately moved towards you, hushing your cries as he pressed a deep kiss on your lips.

Your husband moved to cradle your face in his rough hands, and what he saw shattered whatever fragments of his heart were still intact. Bruises and dried blood stained your body, your skin clammy and pale. Streaks of mascara carved paths down your tear-stained face, and your limbs twitched involuntarily. The taste of whiskey still lingered on your lips, and the fearful haze in your eyes mirrored the terror of a rabbit cornered by a wolf.

"Who did this to you?" he growled, his pupils dilating with anger as he knelt before you, gently slipping your torn stockings and muddy heels off your feet.

"Mimzy," you sobbed out, curling into yourself, the weight of it all feeling too heavy on your shoulders.

"I tried to quit. She didn't let me. The bar. She gave me a drink. More and more. I couldn't stop. I was just so upset." Your words were fragmented, broken by the wrenching sobs that shook your fragile form, vulnerability laid bare before him.

"Mon cœur," Alastor hushed, rubbing circles into your ankle with his thumb. "Calm down. Take your time."

You made an effort, though the first few attempts were shallow and rushed. Eventually, you managed to draw in a deep breath, releasing it in a rush before taking another. And another.

"That's it, my dear. Now, what happened?"

Summoning all your strength, you opened your mouth and began to recount the harrowing events of the night.

Earlier this evening, you had mustered up enough courage to hand in your resignation letter to Mimzy. However, her reaction was far from pleasant. An argument erupted, filled with less than savory words being thrown around like daggers.

Before you knew it, Mimzy's rage boiled over, and she tackled you, raining blows upon you with a fury that bordered on madness, beating you with an inch of your life. And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it stopped.

Her demeanor shifted drastically, morphing from a raging storm into a gentle breeze. With a sickening sweetness, she offered you a hand up, as if nothing had happened. Weak and disoriented, you allowed her to lead you to her private bar, where she poured drink after drink, urging you to indulge.

As per habit, you found yourself consuming the alcohol with reckless abandon, the burning liquid dulling the pain and blurring the edges of reality

Alastor's heart clenched at the anguish in your voice, his expression darkening with a mixture of concern and simmering anger. Slowly, he rose from his seat and lifted you onto his lap, cradling you gently in his arms.

Taking your hand in his, he leaned in close, his voice a soft murmur.

"Let me take care of everything, doll," he whispered, his breath warm against your ear. "She won't ever bother you again."

The tenderness in his voice caused your breath to hitch, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to fall into the reassurance of his presence. It offered a fleeting sense of security amidst everything surrounding you. Yet, slowly as the puzzles fell into pieces, a gnawing sense of dread clawed at your insides.

"Alastor, no," you whimpered, withdrawing your hands and pressing them against his chest, pushing him away with trembling fingers. "Please don't tell me it means what I think it does."

Your gaze pleaded with him, searching his eyes for any sign of reassurance, any glimmer of hope that what you feared was not true. However, your husband's smile remained unchanged—comforting yet chilling—as he pressed another kiss to the corner of your lips.

"I would kill for you," Alastor murmured against your skin, his thumb tracing the contours of your wedding ring. Bending down, he pressed a tender kiss against the golden band, sealing his vow with the promise of bloodshed, lips lingering against the cool metal. As he drew back, you found yourself ensnared by the intensity of his gaze, pools of brown reflecting a manic fervor.

"Please let me kill for you."

Tears blurred your vision as you bowed your head, the weight of his words sinking deep into your soul. You knew Alastor's devotion knew no bounds. Whether it meant causing pain, shedding blood, or delving into the darkest corners of his being, he would do it for you without a moment's hesitation.

A warmth trickled down your cheeks with each blink, tracing a path along your skin. Your eyes burned fiercely, tears cascading down your flushed cheeks and silently dripping from your chin like dewdrops. As you attempted to draw deep breaths, your body shook with a desperation to escape, though you couldn't quite grasp what it was you were fleeing from.

A ragged sound echoed through the room, grating against your senses. It took you a moment to register that the noise came from your own lungs, your breaths torn and jagged as they struggled to find a rhythm.

"Okay," you whispered, the weight of that single word heavy with the burden of guilt and a future tinged with blood.

There was a soft chuckle, accompanied by the gentle touch of a hand moving to caress your cheeks. "Good girl."

.

Snapping back to the present, you found yourself staring at Mimzy as she raged around the room, her fury unleashed on the surroundings, wrecking anything and everything in her path.

A man who kills for you. A man who dirties his hands for you. Is that not love?

A kick from her sent your vanity toppling over, causing bottles of your perfume and whiskey to crash from its surface. The glass shattered upon impact, releasing splintering sounds that pierced your ears. As the bottles broke, the air filled with the pungent scent of flora, mingling with the rich aroma of spilled whiskey.

It must be love.

With a hand trembling from adrenaline, you ran your fingers through your hair, the sticky feeling of blood staining your palm. Rising unsteadily to your feet, you turned to face Mimzy, strands of damp, bloodied hair falling over your cracked porcelain face.

"You ornery washed-up bitch," you rasped out in a laugh, voice breathless and laced with venom. "I should have left you to rot in that forest."

Mimzy froze, her wide eyes locked on you.

"What did you say to me?" she seethed, her voice trembling with anger as she extended her hand toward the shattered liquor glass and the spilled liquid, her fingers curling into fists.

With a flick of her wrist, the whiskey began to swirl and solidify, forming chains that snaked around your limbs, binding you in place. Your muscles tensed against the restraints as Mimzy manipulated you like a puppeteer. Slowly, you reverted back to your regular form, forced to your knees before her.

The blonde bent down, her grip firm on your face, nails digging deep into your skin as she pulled your head up to face her. "You're here because of me! Everything you've ever achieved was because of me! I made you a star, and this is how you repay me?!"

You recognized the anger in her tone, but beneath it lurked a deeper pain and desperation. The poor gal was fighting to reclaim control over a situation slipping through her grasp.

A sudden knock at the door startled Mimzy, causing her to tense. The door creaked open to reveal the imposing figure of Vox filling the doorway. As he entered the room, a wave of static filled the air, crackling and sending goosebumps cascading over your skin. His gaze swept over the scene, taking note of your restraints and bloodied head before settling on Mimzy.

"What is the meaning of this?" 

Under Vox's gaze, Mimzy's confident demeanor faltered, replaced by a nervous tremor in her voice. "I-I was just… settling some unfinished business, mistah," she stammered, attempting to regain her composure.

"You've just damaged the merchandise, sweetheart," Vox stated matter-of-factly, gesturing to you with a wave of his hand. "And we can't have that, now can we?"

With a casual snap of his fingers, the wires from the stage lights above writhed and twisted, tearing free from the ceiling with a deafening creak. They snaked through the air like serpents, wrapping around Mimzy's torso and dragging her away from you with a forceful yank.

With Mimzy taken care of, Vox then turned his attention to you.

"Dolly, was it?" he smiled, voice disarming. "I've got to say, I have always wanted to see you up close."

"You've seen me," you replied with a cold edge to your voice, slowly backing away and pressing yourself against the wall. "I'm here."

"Charmed," Vox smiled, his gaze heating as he drank you in, every detail of you like candy to his eyes. As Vox strode towards you, you instinctively curled into yourself, shrinking back deeper against the wall. He chuckled softly, noticing your reaction, and halted his advances. Instead, he took a seat on the cushion by your toppled vanity, glowing eyes locked onto you.

Pretty Dolly Heart.

Your lips were painted a vivid red, pouting slightly in a frown. Damp, glossy curls framed your face, shimmering in the light and tempting him to reach out and run his fingers through them. Rivulets of blood marred your temple, staining the delicate white flowers nestled into your hair.

The TV Demon was interested in you, and he wouldn't let go until he went home with you tonight, that much was clear.

"I have a deal in mind," Vox turned to Mimzy with a look in his eyes that screamed trouble. "Are you willing to trade your soul for hers?"

Your blood ran cold with fear.

"As Velvette and I are business partners, our souls contracts are intertwined. I'm sure there would be no issue if you signed the deal with me instead," he added with a chuckle, his eyes swirling with a dangerous allure.

Panic clawed at your insides, urging you to flee from the impending doom that loomed before you. But rooted to the spot by fear, you found yourself unable to move.

"Yes! A-Absolutely!" Mimzy's words shattered the heavy silence, her voice trembling with desperation as she nodded frantically. Her eyes remained nervously glued to the crackling electricity of the torn wires still wrapped around her, the fear in her gaze mirroring your own.

With a clap of his hands, Vox conjured a new contract and a strong burst of wind swept through the room, ruffling curtains and causing objects to tremble on their surfaces. Blue light flooded the walls, casting eerie shadows and filling the room with an ominous glow. The atmosphere crackled with electricity, every hair on your body standing on end as if charged with static energy.

A tablet materialized and floated before you, its screen pulsing with a faint, golden glow.

"Make her sign here, and it'll be done," Vox instructed, his voice carrying an air of finality as he handed Mimzy a stylus, tapping his clawed finger along the screen of his tablet.

With a trembling hand, Mimzy took the stylus and held it out for you, the strings of her magic wrapping around your limbs once again. You attempted to shout out, but Mimzy's magic stitched your lips shut, leaving you unable to utter a sound.

Helpless, you watched as your hand was forced to reach out and take the pen into your grasp, your fingers moving against your will as Mimzy guided them to sign the contract. With each stroke of the pen, a wave of despair washed over you, a muffled sob bubbling from your throat as your name appeared on the screen, sealing your fate.

Vox's grin widened, a glint of triumph dancing in his eyes as he held up your old paper contract with Mimzy, the words now rendered meaningless. With a swift motion, he tore it to shreds, the sound of paper ripping echoing through the tense silence of the room.

"Welcome to VoxTek, Dolly."

[eph3merall]

dealer!chris x innocent!bff!reader hcs 🦌

dealer!chris . . . who always has a part of his mind thinking about you. what are you up to? classes? work? friends? hangouts? he'll text you and pretend to not care much, but deep down he just doesn't want to admit how much he worries over this girl who is just his friend.

innocent!bff!reader . . . loves and adores all things autumn. her clothes are fall staples that include lots of denim and earthy tones. so whenever she's hanging out with chris and sees something to add to her closet or keep as a trinket or decoration, she'll look up to chris with pretty lil' eyes and how could he deny her? sometimes he'll purposefully look away and shove her away from the store because she keeps burning a hole through his pocket.

dealer!chris . . . despises situations where innocent!bff!reader roped into his 'job'. there are shady people buying some strong shit from him, and he knows matt would also screw him over if innocent!bff!reader got harmed because of him. matt sees you as a best friend, someone he needs to protect because his brother is a little fucking stupid sometimes. dealer!chris always tries avoiding problems when it seems as if you're gonna get involved with any of his deals.

innocent!bff!reader . . . who's had a boyfriend or two before. she's just never had sex, and once she told chris he was laughing at her and giggling with his eyes all red. 'fuckin'... you're jokin', right kid?' and when she tells chris she's dated less than five people he's laughing harder. gosh, what an asshole.

dealer!chris . . . always carries a lighter with a printed cat photo on it that innocent!bff!reader glued/taped onto it. keeps a picture of her in his wallet as well—a polaroid of her awhile back in the winter, running into the horizon as snow fell around her frame. he could hear the giggles she made just by looking at the photo.

innocent!bff!reader . . . who has severe nosebleeds once every few months or so. it'll get so bad to the point she's crying because she thinks she's gonna die—with chris grumbling all annoyed with his hand fisting her hair so it doesnt get caked in blood. sometimes hes high and just stares at times while she yells at him to get her a hairtie or to grab ahold of most of her hair.

dealer!chris . . . who's, again, literally just an asshole to everyone. you're barely an exception. one second he'll be laughing with you and once he's with a buyer or some of his friends, he'll act like you're some dirt on his shoe. plus he's just plain ol' mean. wont take bullshit from anyone, not even his brothers. matt pisses him off more than nick does. but of course, they're his brothers. so he isnt.. that mean.

innocent!bff!reader . . . who grew up sheltered from everything in life. her parents are overprotective and she's their only child—only serving to make them more anxious when she's out. met chris through nick since the two were in a class together. something clicked and they've been hanging out ever since, usually in groups. chris and his friends are nott a good influence on her. but her mother doesn't have to know, does she?

dealer!chris . . . lovess cute coupley things. he just won't ever admit it to anyone he knows, not even his brothers if they ask or jab at him. secretly, he loves it when innocent!bff!reader hugs him tight or brushes her fingers across his skin. but he'll always stick to his go-to response—a scoff and he's pushing her away, muttering some shit like 'god, fuckin'.. annoying as hell always touchin' me.'

innocent!bff!reader . . . tries getting herself off with her fingers for the first time in awhilee since meeting chris because he just makes her feel so weird. all hot and bothered and it's gotten so overwhelming that humping her pillow alone in her dorm room isn't enough, so she's sliding her fingers inside her cunt slowly and mewling all softly in the privacy of her dorm room. she doesn't even realize that she secretly wants chris to see her like this.

dealer!chris . . . fucks with girls left and right. a new chick at each party that he sells some drugs to, and, if they're pretty enough.. he'll let them suck his dick or something. hey, he got to cum down some pretty brunette's throat and got a fat stack of cash? win-win. but when he met innocent!bff! reader... she went to house parties with him sometimes. which resulted in him not getting to fuck a girl's throat-which also resulted in dealer!chris fucking his own fist at night with the thought of you in his head.

—

©eph3merall 2024

[thou-hast-now-a-bosom-companion]

i don't want to see Wyll cut off Ulder because he sucked as a father and deserved better as a 17 year old who was scared and alone and desperate to do the right thing with the immense pressure of not just his father, the man he idolized, but also The Entire Nobility of the city he loved bearing down on him.

i want to see them sit down on a bench overlooking the sea, somewhere they once spent every spare day (however few they may have been as time went on and Duty Called) Ulder had available bonding over training or fishing or listening to music or whatever else they enjoyed doing together.

i want them to have half-started and never-finished conversations about how Ulder failed, and how he wants to make up for it, and how much grief he holds over everything. about how many nights after his exile Wyll spent crying and screaming about how unfair it was and how "if he'd just listened to me." about how Wyll deserved better and Ulder should've known better but they can't go back and do it over again.

i want them to talk about Wyll's mother and who she was and why Ulder loved her and how he never really recovered from her death. and how bittersweet it is to look at Wyll - not because he blames his son for his wife's death, but because Wyll has her laugh and wears his hair the way she wore hers when they first met and it reminds Ulder of the woman he knew and loved and wishes so so so bad Wyll had also known and loved. of the woman he's certain would have protected Wyll from her husband's misplaced judgement.

i want Ulder to try and fail and succeed and fail and succeed and try over and over again to be the father Wyll deserves Now as an adult who's quite literally been through All The Hells and has the horns and claws and glowing red eye to prove it. and for Wyll to step away and back and away and back over and over again because he knows he wants His Father but he doesn't know what that means after everything they've been through.

i want to see the Ravengards learn to be father and son again and be able to laugh with and cry with and talk with and genuinely trust each other.

Wyll deserves to have a father who loves him and who has the humility and honor to listen to him and respect him and learn How to be the father he needs.

[f0ofishies]

fratboy!childe, yes in this goddamn college of yours. There was a big clique, the fatuis.. yes, they do trouble, and yet all of them have never been expelled– even after some heinous acts they've done in the past.

Now, Childe or Tartaglia was a sophmore.. the same as you are. You don't know how many alias the man has. Somehow, you took the same major, and now you're stuck with a partner who literally does nothing except partying, getting drunk and the other stuff– you shouldn't and won't want to know the details.

He's flat-out drunk as he looks over at you from the bed, your hands on the laptop doing the work again. "Mmm, doing the project again?" His words slurred, his blue dull eyes staring straight at the back of your head.

"Yeah, because someone clearly doesn't want to help–" A laughter erupted the dim lit dorm room. "I helped–" "By making a title only." The sounds of the keyboards clicking only filled the room.

"Sorry angel.." That Russian accent of his slipping off, his ginger haired, fell against your pillow. "Apology not accepted..!" Your voice hushed, being deeply annoyed at how lax he was. Though he was one of the students who could pass even without doing much.

Light footsteps echoed through the room, he spun your squeaky chair around. "Cmon, deary.. forgive me.." He huffed a bit, his pale finger reaching a loose hair strand. You turn bright red at that.

"Red.. such a nice colour on you– hmm?" He was amused at your face. So gorgeous he thought..

So why then, are you arching your back for him? It gave him plenty of access to just look at your ass twitching just from how hard he was going from behind. "Red.. such your color huh?" He giggled, looking at one of your swollen ass cheeks.

The implications of what he did to your poor bum, was totally his fault. "ah..ah–!" The noises you were making for him, the way your walls was sucking him real tight was too good. "ffuuck.. you're– agh grippin.. me real tight.." He was vocal with it too, poor your other colleagues if they could hear it.

Hell, even your bed was moving on the verge of breaking from this man. He may not look like it, but he has so much strength to just flip you over your back. His calloused hand wiping your tears, as your pleas goes on deaf ears to him. He'd pull out, edging both of you at the process.

His tip trailing your hole, making you whine. "shit– Ajax.. no– no fair mmph!" You whined, your hands all up in his ginger hair. Another passionate kiss from you two. There was even a hint of sparkle in that blue eyes of his, as your saliva connected.

"Nah, these lips s' good.. need a breather..."

[allastoredeer]

It's kind of funny to think that when Lucifer points out to Charlie that they have the same blood, it's clear that Lucifer has golden blood due to being an Angel, while in battle we see that Charlie actually has red blood, probably due to being the daughter of the first human/sinner woman, which ironically makes her even closer to Alastor just on a visual level.

Another thing I love about that song is that Lucifer stresses that he will support her, but always focusing on material things and the use of his power. While Alastor, the manipulative bastard who knows everyone's weaknesses, brings out all the bonds and emotional support he's given Charlie just by being there from the beginning, how they've become friends, how he makes her laugh with his jokes, he even hugs Niffty, and all that "corny" stuff is what Charlie really appreciates, but she has no interest in material things.

Ooooh! Good point about the blood! In that aspect, she could be more closely affiliated with sinners than Lucifer or the hellborn.

Also, that's what I REALLY love about Alastor and Lucifer's song, because your right! Lucifer is focusing on all the things he can get her. Material items. Which is exactly where he went wrong.

Charlie is the princess of Hell, I'm pretty sure she has no problem buying anything. Lucifer may be able to snap things into existence, but that's not what Charlie wants. It's not what she needs.

Alastor, on the other hand, is observant as fuck. He was with the Hazbin crew for only a week before he pegged Charlie's daddy issues.

It is also very interesting that in this photo Lucifer is in the spotlight with his back turned to Charlie, and Charlie's body language is so hurt and closed off, she's literally on the brink of tears. I'm just saying, I don't think we give Charlie's feelings about her and Lucifer's relationship more credit. We tend to focus more on Lucifer's emotions and that is such a shame because LOOK at her. Charlie is not okay.

Charlie wants connection, support, and community. She wants someone to be proud of her. She wants someone who is reliable and involved.

And Alastor knows that and, when you think about it, he HAS done that.

Look at Charlie's face when he tells her he's happy to "fulfill all her bizarre request."

Requests. Not just poofing items into existence.

We've already seen examples of Alastor being involved with the hotel and doing things that Vaggie and Charlie ask him to do, such as taking the egg bois with him, sitting in on Charlie's exercise's, making a commercial, building a new wall, dealing with clogs--and I imagine he's done a lot more over the 6 months that he's been there.

(Also, not to go off topic but Alastor's back arch oh my god??????)

Look at her face when Alastor say's that she's an "impressive young lady" and that they're all "very proud of her."

He didn't even need to say "I'm proud of her," it was "we're proud of her."

It makes me wonder when the last time Charlie heard those words. Did Lucifer and Lilith ever tell her they were proud of her? I looked through the episode transcripts, and there wasn't a single time Lucifer said "I'm proud of you", even after they rekindled their relationship.

I think it's something Charlie has wanted to hear for a VERY long, and hearing it from Alastor (who's as close to a father figure as she's had, I guess), I can't imagine how much that meant to her.

Also note Charlie's face when Lucifer interrupts them to request he meet her other friends.

Charlie wants emotional connection. She doesn't want Lucifer to come in and fix all her problems, she just needs a little help. She wants his support. She invited him to the hotel so she could show him what she was working on and how much things have improved.

And let's be honest here, Lucifer went to the hotel for purely selfish reasons.

He didn't go to listen to Charlie's pitch or even consider helping with it. He already said no about setting up a meeting with Heaven and he went into the hotel already believing it wouldn't work, with no intention of keeping an open mind.

He missed Charlie and went there only to see her, which isn't altogether bad! He missed his daughter. That's fine. But by all accounts it was a selfish decision that he made purely for himself. It was to benefit him, not her.

And I think, on some level, Charlie expected that.

So when Alastor swoops in saying all the right words, knowing exactly what Charlie wants (because he's been paying attention), knowing that she doesn't need material items but emotional connection, you know, I can't blame her for looking the way she did, and I'm not surprised it sent Lucifer head-first into a whirlpool of insecurity.

Lucifer went wrong by trying to "buy" (for lack of better term) his way back into Charlie's good graces. I don't think he meant for it to come off like that, but the whole basis of his "i'm a better dad than Alastor" argument is "look at all the things I can get for you," "look at all the ways you can benefit from my status" and "we're blood-related."

Whereas Alastor's was "here's all the things I've done to help and support you," "look at the times I've been reliable" and "you've already made a found family here, you don't need a biological one."

I'm sorry, but going by the song? Yeah, Alastor kind of beat Lucifer in the dad category.

Doesn't mean he's an actual, loving, and supportive father figure to Charlie LMAO, but by all accounts, he's checked the boxes.

[sempersirens]

raising hell all over town

pairing: best friend's dad!joel x f!reader

summary: you've been a friend of sarah's since you were old enough to steal bottles of her dad's whiskey for parties. sarah was always the sensible one in your friendship, getting you out of the trouble you usually started. but now sarah has gone off to college, who else but joel could pick up the pieces?

content/warnings: 18+ mdni. alcohol. drugs. age gap. violence/fighting. smut: unprotected p in v, spanking

a/n: inspired by this gif set, and the wonderful @amanitacowboy & @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin for introducing me to that yellowstone scene kind of nervous about this, my first proper smutty fic - i find smut really difficult to write for some reason (weird because i'm feral horny 24/7) so this was kinda out of my comfort zone but i hope you all enjoy! PSA: i no longer have a taglist! feel free to follow my updates blog @sempersirenswrites and turn the post notifs on to be notified when i post a new fic :)

Friday nights in Austin felt incomplete without Sarah by your side.

For years, she had been the epitome of your partner in crime; dragging you back to her place or putting you in a cab before the cops were called.

Had it not been for your fierce loyalty and protectiveness over Sarah, you're sure her dad would've barred you from the house years ago. Sarah was smarter than you in almost every way. Academically, emotionally, you name it.

Joel knew this, and he trusted the two of you together knowing you both balanced the other out. Watching the two of you reminded Joel of a younger version of himself and Tommy, always thankful that Sarah had followed in his footsteps as opposed to her uncle's.

Your relationship with your parents was rocky, to say the least, and the Miller's house had always been a safe haven for you. Joel had patched up your split lip or bloody nose more times than he wanted to admit for a girl your age. He swore he'd kill your old man one day for the states you'd turned up to their house in.

Still, he couldn't help but feel the urge to grab you by the shoulders and shake some sense into you from time to time. As much as his heart broke for you, it was also in your nature to be a damn brat. Joel had endured countless stifling days spent by the pool forcing himself to not let his eyes linger on the curves of your hips. He struggled to look you in the eye when he saw you sat on the kitchen counter waiting to leave for a party, your mini skirt riding dangerously high on your thighs.

There had been times when he had been reckless. Times that he'd had to pull himself away from your invisible grip on him and relieve his tension in the bathroom, fisting his cock onto the shower floor, biting down on the shape of your name on his tongue.

When he'd re-emerge into the living room, he knew that you knew. You'd look through your eyelashes at him and smile. His cheeks flushed, shame setting in at the speed at which he'd cum from the thought of your pussy clenching around his shaft.

He would never let it show, but something would rush through his body when he'd ask Sarah what the hell she do this time? He remembered one time in particular, as Sarah relayed the events of the night that had led to your bloody nose, he'd looked over at you perching on the counter. With blood leaking down your cupid's bow, you'd locked eyes with him and ran your tongue across your lip, revelling in the remnants of your victory.

Still, you had fine enough nights out with the girls from work. They just didn't get you the way Sarah did. They would shoot you judgemental glances from across the bar that lasted until the Monday back at work for whatever you had done this time that they disapproved of.

"They're just dull. You should see the way they look at me for literally just hooking up with guys." You had lamented to Sarah over the phone while you were both getting ready for your respective nights out on separate sides of the country.

"It's probably because they've seen you get through an entire friendship group before your second drink."

"Well, they should be taking notes. Tell me nobody at college is as fun as me." Jealousy tore through your chest at the thought of Sarah spending her time with new friends.

"Nobody here is as fun as you. They're very... reserved." You scoffed at her politeness.

"Babe, just say they're boring."

"I'm giving them a chance. Anyway, gotta go. Text me tomorrow and tell me the damage. Love ya!"

"Don't have too much fun without me. Love you too."

Despite their judging looks, you were always the first person they called upon to finish any mess they had gotten themselves into. Still, you were happy to oblige, even if it meant a few awkward minutes of silence at the coffee machine on Monday.

The group of you had poured out of an Uber into the busy bar around nine o'clock, buzzing with the confidence of your pre-drinks. Rounds of shots were ordered and consumed at a dizzying pace, and soon enough, bags of powder were discreetly distributed across the table.

"Bathroom?" Hannah, one of your closest and least judgmental co-workers nudged you.

"Thought you'd never ask." The two of you sauntered away from the table, hand-in-hand, quickly bundling into a tight cubicle.

The bathroom filled up as the two of you tried to be as silent as possible, scooping your pinky nails into the small bag.

"Hurry the fuck up!" Someone from outside the cubicle called, thudding her fists against the door.

"Get fucked." You called back, muttering this bitch under your breath to Hannah.

As the two of you packed your things back into your handbags, the cubicle door jolted half open, smacking Hannah in the shoulder.

"Are you fucking serious?" You shouted at the small brunette on the other side of the door, checking Hannah over for injury.

"You hit me, you bitch." She straightened herself up, rubbing her shoulder.

"I'll do worse if you don't fucking move." The brunette hissed in her face.

You screwed your face up and shoved her, making her stumble backwards into the sink. The other girls in the bathroom grabbed their bags and scurried to the exit, evidently not wanting to be caught in the crossfire.

"Apologise." You said, moving toward the girl who was now pulling herself up with the help of the basins on either side of her.

"Fuck you." She spat, saliva hitting your cheek before she lunged forward.

Your fist connected with her nose before she even had time to swing, and your right hand secured a tight grip on the back of her hair.

"I said, apologise to my friend."

"I'm sorry." She choked, pathetically. Her face shrivelled in fear and pain.

"Not so fuckin' big now, are you?" Hannah said, which was ironic, considering the girl who had bruised her was now quivering under your fist.

Content with her apology, you released your grip on her and re-entered the bar with Hannah trailing behind you. As you both rejoined your table, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

"Our friend said you just attacked her in the bathroom." Another petite girl looked up at you, one hand on her hip.

"She hit my friend, here. Was just trying to teach her some manners."

The entirety of your group was now turned to face you, exchanging harsh whispers of your name followed by just leave it.

"You broke her nose!" The girl shrilled. You looked over her shoulder to the girl doubled over, clutching her bloody nose with an ensemble of people crowding around her.

"No, I think it just looks like that."

You grinned at the rage growing behind her eyes, your smile unfaltering even as her fist collided with your cheek.

"Harder." You shouted, rolling your neck from side to side.

"What?!"

"Come on, hit me harder. I know you got it in you." She didn't take much convincing; her next punch knocked you backwards onto the table as everyone rushed to tear the two of you apart.

You stepped forward to finally let her have it when a pair of strong hands pulled you back.

"Get off!" You shouted, kicking against who you assumed to be security throwing you out. You just hoped they weren't calling the cops, too.

"C'mon, doll. You've had enough fun for one night." A familiar Southern drawl cooed, dragging you out into the warm night. "Now, that wasn't very ladylike of you, darlin'."

He let you go from his grip and you turned to face him. To your surprise, you were met with the smirk of the younger Miller brother.

"Tommy." You breathed, "I didn't see you in there."

"Well, lucky I noticed you ain't it." He grinned.

Spending so much time at the Miller's had you well acquainted with Sarah's uncle Tommy. He'd seen you in much worse states than this, and in turn, so had you.

"Didn't need you to swoop in and save me, Tommy."

"Wasn't saving you, sweetheart. Was savin' that poor girl." You both smiled at the tone of pride in his voice.

"You got somewhere to go, trouble? Don't think you should be hangin' round here for too long."

"Can't exactly go home bleeding from my face." You sighed, realising you probably hadn't thought this through. You missed Sarah.

Tommy fished around in his pocket for his phone before raising it to his ear.

"Hey, big brother." Your stomach flipped. "No, no- it's not me. Joel, listen." You could almost hear Joel on the other end of the phone, witnessing it in person more times than you could count. It's not even ten o'clock yet, don't tell me you're locked up already.

"Our favourite little troublemaker needs a place to crash tonight. I'd drive her over but I've already had my fair share of beers. Okay, great. I'll tell her."

Once he'd hung up, Tommy told you that Joel was on his way to come and pick you up. You could feel your heartbeat in your stomach. You'd never been alone with Joel for longer than a couple of hours at most, let alone spending the night at his while Sarah was out of town. Something inside of you twitched in excitement, a warm rush settling deep in your belly.

You told Tommy to go back into the bar, that Joel wouldn't be long and you'd walk down the street to meet him in case those girls came out looking for another round.

As you made your way underneath the streetlights toward the direction of the Miller's house, you pulled your compact from your bag and touched up your make-up, re-curling your lashes and dousing a thick layer of clear lipgloss onto your lips, not bothering to tend to any of the blood trickling down your skin. You spritzed yourself with perfume and ran a brush through your hair, smiling at the thought of Joel seeing you waiting on the curbside for him.

Right on cue, his truck pulled around the corner. You raised your hand and wiggled your fingers, a small smirk spreading across your cheeks.

You were grateful for your earlier decision to wear your knee-high boots with a denim mini-skirt, adding a little extra sway to your hips as you made your way to the passenger side of Joel's truck. You climbed in and turned to face him, flashing him a toothy grin, well aware of the blood staining your teeth.

"You're a damn mess, princess." Something deep inside of you came to life at his words, causing you to visibly clench your exposed thighs together. "S'there I was, thinking to myself how thankful I am for a peaceful night after workin' lates all week. When my phone rings, just as I'd sat down and made myself comfortable."

"Peace is overrated." You replied.

"So, what did you do this time? Steal another cop car? Break into a hotel pool? Make out with someone's husband?"

You played with the hem of your skirt as he spoke, blushing as he listed a few of your past activities he'd either bailed you out of or heard about from Sarah.

"I didn't start this one." You said, a slight whine in your voice. "Someone hit my friend, I was just looking out for her."

"Your friend can't fight her own battles?"

"You never have a problem when it's Sarah I'm throwing punches for."

He scoffed. "Now, you know I've always taught her to never start a fight but always to finish one. You on the other hand, I don't think nobody's taught you anythin' of the sort."

"And are you gonna be the one to do that, Mr Miller?" You mimicked his Texan accent, which was much thicker than yours, and parted your legs in your seat ever so slightly.

"If I didn't know you better, darlin', I'd think you were tryin' to get me in some sort of trouble."

He pulled into the driveway and switched the ignition off before jogging to your side of the truck and holding the door open for you, as well as offering you an outstretched hand.

"Always such a gentleman." You smiled, looking at him through your eyelashes as you stepped out, hand in his.

He exhaled out of his nose, shaking his head softly as he slammed the door shut behind you. His hand moved to the small of your back, guiding you into the house.

"Sarah's bed is all made up, I'm sure you know where her clothes are f'you wanna change into something more... comfortable." His eyes trailed down your figure, your clothes hugging all the right places.

"Do you not like my outfit?" You pouted, holding your hands behind your back and sticking your chest out, swaying from side to side.

"Course not, y'look real pretty. Just thought you'd wanna watch TV before going to sleep is all." Joel brought a hand to the back of his head, rubbing his neck nervously as his eyes shifted to the floor.

For such a handsome man, he was so damn insecure. Maybe it was the gentleman in him, thinking that it was wrong for someone his age to want someone the same age as his daughter. He knew you didn't think like that, Sarah had told him multiple stories about the older men you'd hooked with at the bar.

He'd even caught you making out with a kid from your school's dad a few years ago when he'd come to pick you and Sarah up from a party. Joel had seemingly known the man, and you remembered how he'd stalked out of his truck and toward you both, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and warning him that his wife wasn't going to like hearing about this.

So, you kicked off your boots and took yourself upstairs into Sarah's bedroom. Not bothering to close the blinds, you peeled your clothes off and looked at yourself in the full length mirror.

The warmth of your earlier drinks still coated your inhibitions. You knew you looked good in your black lace set, breasts sat perkily on your chest and your ass cheeks the perfect handfuls.

Fuck it. If he wasn't going to be ballsy enough to make the first move, maybe you should.

You kissed the tips of your fingers and pressed them against a framed photo of you and Sarah giggling at whatever was going on behind the camera.

"Sorry, Sarah." You whispered, before making your way down the stairs.

Joel heard you coming but was too preoccupied fighting with the TV remote control to turn around and face you just yet.

"If I can get this damn thing to work I think they're showin' Scarface at ten, I know you said you ain't seen it so thought we could watch it."

"Sounds good," you spoke, your voice more honeyed than usual. "Hey, Joel. Do you think this will be comfy enough?"

He whipped his head around quickly, ready to give you the same kind of answer he did whenever Sarah asked for his opinion in a changing room. It took a second for him to register what he was looking at, but when it clicked he dropped the remote to the floor and turned his whole body to face you.

"What the hell," his face turned bright red, unsure what to do with his hands. You could give him a few ideas.

"You not like it?" You asked, voice low as you walked slowly in his direction.

His trousers began to tighten around his hardening cock and you smiled, glad that you were indeed on the same page.

"Course I- I, what the hell are you playin' at?"

"Come on, Joel. I gotta make up for interrupting your peaceful night somehow."

You closed the gap between you both and placed a hand delicately on his chest, tracing circles with the tip of your long, manicured nails.

Joel swallowed hard.

"This ain't right." He said weakly, his eyes betraying his words as they devoured the sight of your body before him.

"Cut the shit, Joel. I know you want me, and I want you."

He didn't answer, but instead threw you over his shoulder and carried you up to his bedroom, placing a couple of firm smacks on your ass as you wriggle against his strong grip. Your stomach did backflips, exhilarated at the prospect of what was about to happen.

Upon entering his room, he threw you roughly onto the bed and worked at undoing his belt as you scrambled onto your back, resting on your elbows.

"Y'know what I really thought when Tommy called, tellin' me I needed to come pick you up?" He said, although it didn't sound much like a question. "I thought, this dumb slut needs some sense fucking into her."

You moaned at his words, basking in the side of him that you knew always existed.

“Thought t’myself, she needs teachin’ some fuckin' manners f’once.”

Joel stalked around the side of the bed and sat and patted his lap. Wordlessly, you shifted your weight next to him and dangled your legs over the side of the bed.

He brought his right hand in between your thighs, making you shiver at the feeling of his coarse fingers grazing your skin. He ran his fingers up and down the length of your thigh, each time stopping short of the hem of your skirt.

"This is what you want, ain't it sweetheart?" He spoke lowly, voice gravelly and as rough as his touch. Each night spent tangled and alone in your sheets, fingers grazing your soaked folds with his name on your lips felt redundant. Nothing could come close to the feel of his skin on yours.

Pulling you from your trance, he slapped your inner thigh hard when you didn't respond. "Need t'hear you say it."

"Yes,' you moan through gritted teeth, surprised you can even find your voice. "This is what I need."

Sick of his incessant teasing, you clamber onto his lap and hook your fingers around the back of his neck.

"But I think you need this just as much, Mr Miller. You must get so lonely in this house all by yourself. Sarah always tells me how you never have any lady friends hanging around."

You straddle his lap and grip his neck for support, softly grinding yourself on the hardness of his lap. He moves a hand from your waist to roughly seize your chin, tipping your face down to meet his gaze.

"Your old man must've forgot to teach you some manners, little girl." His low voice tore through your body.

Joel hoists your skirt up to your waist and flips you underneath him in one swift motion. His body looms over yours, fingers trailing a rough and jagged line down to where you need him most. He moved at an antagonising slow pace, but you can't bring yourself to give into his little game by begging for more.

"Here's what we're gonna do, darlin'. You're gonna be a good girl f'me and tell daddy exactly what happened tonight." The mouth on him.

The way your body writhed and squirmed at his words didn't go unnoticed. With no warning, he plunged two thick digits inside of you and held them deep in place, his face inches away from yours.

"N'if you stutter, or lie, or say anythin' I don't like for that matter, you'll be over my knee, red-raw," his fingers curl inside of you and you bite back a moan, desperate to not let him have the upper hand.

"No matter how much you cry those pretty little eyes out, I won't quit 'til you've learnt somethin'. Understood?"

You suck a breath in through your nose, a sharp sting reminding you of the open wound still decorating your face.

"Yes, sir."

part 2 coming soon

taglist: @cool-iguana @nostalxgic @chaotic-mystery @beardedjoel

[supergraphicgirl81]

With A Little Help From My Friends ⋆⁺₊❅.

Oscar Piastri ⋆.⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ˎˊ˗

Formula 1 college hockey team social media AU! Instagram Edition

The tight-knit college hockey team, the Silver Blades, run by team captain Max Verstappen, isn't just about scoring goals—it's a chosen family. On and off the ice, the team has each other's backs, whether that's through college assignments, throwing awesome parties, or winning the championship together. Follow these overworked, tired, college students as they post through their day-to-day life.

With A Little Help From My Friends Masterlist ✴︎˚｡ Oscar Piastri Masterlist ✴︎˚｡

OscarJP

liked by AlexandraSaintM, LandoNorris4, and others

OscarJP We took the kids outside

tagged ItsYourname

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AlexandraSaintM UGH! my queen, thank you oscar, i really needed this today

OscarJP I know what the people need

LandoNorris4 AHH OMG JACK FNQEFE AND BAILEY AWEE SJCJIFOEW (liked by OscarJP)

CollegeHockeyFan we love to see healthy siblings in a loving home (jack and bailey)

MaxVerstappen i need to know they love me

DanielRicciardo you are not their godfather i am therefore they love me not you

MaxVerstappen @OscarJp LITERALLY SINCE FUCKING WHEN??!?!?!!??

OscarJP He literally just made that up??? Our cats don't have godfathers

ItsYourname and even if they did they SURE as hell wouldn't be either of you monsters

DanielRicciardo homophobia (liked by MaxVerstappen)

ItsYourname i am cold (liked by OscarJP)

RandomHockeyFan they 😭 literally 😭 have 😭 a 😭 family 😭 screaming 😭 crying 😭 throwing 😭 up

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liked by CharLeclerc, LilyMuniHe, and others

OscarJP Hockey stuff lately

tagged ChargingSarge and Albono

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ChargingSarge If Alex shoots one more hockey puck at me I think I would literally crumble on the spot

Albono Oh come on, they weren't even hitting you (liked by OscarJP)

ChargingSarge UHHH I'M PRETTY SURE I WOULD KNOW IF THEY WEREN'T HITTING ME ALEX

RandomHockeyFan I have hopes for better playing this season, seems like they've got a strong team built, even some newbies.

Random Who new has been added? I thought it's been the same players since Lando and Oscar arrived with Logan and Yuki???

RandomFan Franco Colapinto!!!!! He's actually a freshmen, so it'll be interesting to see how this plays out

GeorgeRus Have Jersey in the laundry room by 9 if you want it washed. (liked by OscarJP)

YukiTsunoda22 sorry again osc, i let the blind rage take hold, soup in the kitchen

OscarJP All good Yuki, thanks mate

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liked by MaxVerstappen, Franco43Colapinto, and others

OscarJP 5 years, it never gets old :))

tagged ItsYourname

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LandoNorris4 WAAHHHHHH 😭🙏 M-MY MY BABBIEESSS 🥹🥹🥹🥹 !!!!!!!

OscarJP Lando we've been dating longer then we've known you

ItsYourname WAHHH LANDDOOO 😭 😭 😭 😭 I LOVE YOU

LewHamilton I love to see it in my feed. (liked by OscarJP)

DanielRicciardo mama y papa?

MaxVerstappen I hope you guys know you literally have the longest, most stable relationship I've ever seen in my life, genuinely.

ItsYourname is this trauma dumping?

ItsYourname AYYYYY PASTA WAS BOMB

OscarJP Is that all you want to say?

ItsYourname AYYYYY dick was also bomb? (liked by OscarJP)

ItsYourname i love you ♡

OscarJP I love you too!

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liked by ItsYourname, LewHamilton, and others

OscarJP Team wins a championship and all of a sudden I'm in a suit (I hope we get invited back next year)

tagged CharLeclerc, GeorgeRus, MaxVerstappen, LilyMuniHe, AlexandraSaintM, LandoNorris4

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ItsYourname OSCARRRR !!!!!!!! LOOK AT YOUUU !!!!!!!! (liked by OscarJP)

ItsYourname my favorite most polite cat in the world !!! 🥹🥹🥹

OscarJp What did I say about calling me a cat online

MaxVerstappen Great work this year Oscar, keep it up. (liked by OscarJP)

OscarJP Appreciate it man

CharLeclerc Proud dad moment 🥹

OscarJP I am not your son Charles (thanks dad)

Albono 4 points up next season, betting it now (liked by OscarJP)

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[lumina-649]

One of the cutest aspects about the direction of Yashiro's character in the newer chapters is how much she's openly simping for Hanako. We even get a glimpse into how Yashiro actually views him.

In the beginning, Yashiro was dead-set on only getting with the hottest of hot guys---the whole prince charming type. In fact, this is why she was obsessed with Teru for quite a bit.

But as of chapter you-know-who, there's very clearly a distinction between how the series/other people portray and see Hanako versus how Yashiro views him.

Throughout all the bullcrap these two go through, Yashiro realizes she can't keep her feelings buried anymore (though, I don't see why you would when you literally fight your way through this world's version of hell just to get to this dude, but I digress) and goes all in with acknowledging she wants nothing more than to be with Hanako.

Heck, even when her former crush, Nakahara was (creepily) hitting on her (actually, he was harassing her), she wanted nothing to do with him because Nakahara wasn't Hanako. It literally takes her a few seconds for her to even remember who he is because that's how insignificant he is in comparison to the one and only toilet ghost.

As she runs away from him due to his downright creeptitude (which ironically enough, smartly shows that he wouldn't have even made a good partner anyway so it was actually a good thing he rejected her), she reflects on how she DID want to confess to someone, but it wasn't to him---it was---say it with me: HANAKO--

And the best part from her reflecting on how she wanted to confess to him, it goes back to that part where he was with her in the stage where they'd be holding the performance for the Wizard of Oz. See how the series objectively portrays him versus how Yashiro sees him?

Yashiro is no longer concerned with any prince charming because in her eyes, Hanako IS exactly THAT. From what she originally saw as this snarky boy in a hat, she now sees him as the most handsome because of who he is and what they've both been through together.

He looks more attractive to her because of the fact she recognizes the bond she has with him and wants nothing more than to delve deeper into it.

As messy as these two are, I will say this: AidaIro are MASTERS at subtext and tugging my heart strings.

[writtenbyan-aries]

Summary: I honestly can't think of a good summary for this, if I think of one by the end of the one shot, I'll change this, but if not, congrats, it's a surprise. 

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, sister's boyfriend cheats with reader, CHEATING, snobby twin sister, mentions of alcohol, flirting, kissing, biting, hair pulling, scratching, oral (f rec), unprotected sex, creampie, filth 

Going to give another warning, this story will contain mentions and actions of CHEATING - which I do NOT at all condone! Please be respectful with your people! This is just solely for the purpose of bringing spice to life of people who read this. This is all fake! There is nothing real about this. Enjoy. 

Word count: 5.2K | not edited 

╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗

You've always wanted to see your sister, Kelsie, happy. 

But seeing her with Jake really gets under your skin. It bugs the hell right out of you because as soon as she got whiff that you liked him, she, being the younger twin of course, got what you wanted first, and of course played it off like she didn't know. 

They've only been dating a few weeks, and within those few weeks, you found that there's just something about them that you can't exactly put your finger on. 

It was almost, weird. 

Kind of like they were putting on a show, or at least one of them was. 

But ever since Jake started coming around as 'Kelsie's boyfriend', you've changed, put on a facade, acting like it's all normal and that it doesn't bother you as much as it really does. 

But little do you know, Jake picked right up on that. 

You've known Jake for years, so to joke around with him and tease him and such were all normal to you and him. 

That was until the feelings started rolling in, and you thought it was best to just push them down, swallow them each time you caught glimpses of his beautiful face. 

Kelsie and Jake got up from the table, walking towards the doors. It's quiet for a few minutes until your friend nudges your arm, "Do you like him?" 

You shake your head, staring at the table before looking up at her, "I don't want to." 

She tilts her head, giving you a soft smile, "But you do?" 

You nod once, letting out a sigh, "I do." 

"How long?" She takes a sip of her drink and you raise your brows as you ball up a straw wrapper, "Long before Kelsie, I can tell you that right now." You toss it onto the empty tray and look over at her, "I don't understand how she found out?" 

"Wait, you think Kelsie is dating Jake because you liked him first?" She stares at you and you shrug, "She gets everything else that I like before me. What makes this situation any different?" 

Your friend laughs slightly, " You make a good argument, y/n. I remember growing up.. you said you wanted a soccer ball, she got one almost the next day." 

"It's that baby of the family bullshit." You laugh, "But I'm literally two minutes older than her. I don't-" you shake your head, looking down as Jake and Kelsie walk back in.

Your friend straightens up, "Find what you were looking for?" 

Jake laughs, "yeah, I got it." He sits back down, "y/n, Johnnie wanted to know if you wanted to join us for the next video." 

"What are you guys planning on doing?" You look up at him and he smirks, "Were going back to the Queen Mary." 

You raise your brows, "Seriously, what. Are you fucking nuts?" 

He shrugs, "Have you met me?" 

You laugh slightly, "Yeah, I think so. What day?" 

As Jake looks through his texts with Johnnie, Kelsie puts herself in the conversation, "What's the Queen Mary? Sounds fancy." 

"It's scary." You and Jake say at the same time. You smirk slightly, "They want to do a paranormal investigation." 

"You mean.. like.. ghosts?" She looks at Jake and he nods, "Yeah, ghosts." 

Kelsie swallows, "I'll go." 

You all look at her and she shrugs, "What?" 

You laugh, "Kels, you won't go to a haunted house that's fake. What makes you think you can go somewhere that's real?" 

She rolls her eyes, "I'll have Jake there to protect me." She leans over on him and he smiles slighting while nodding his head, "Thursday." 

He looks up at you and you look away from Kelsie, giving Jake a small smile, "Okay." 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

It was the day before the investigation and you get a text from Jake, did I piss you off? 

You furrow your brows, bringing your phone closer so you can type, No?

You sit up, tilting your head as you try and think about who might have said something as you wait for a response back from Jake. 

Your phone vibrates and you tap the screen, eyes scanning over the message from him, Kelsie said that you weren't coming now because you have to make a YouTube video and I don't know it just sounded like a shitty excuse. 

You laugh to yourself, that's because it is. She doesn't like us being friends because- 

You delete the message, retyping it, I don't have a YouTube video to film. If it did, I'd push it. 

You toss your phone down, quickly grabbing it as Kelsie walks into your room, "Don't you know how to knock?" 

She laughs, "I help pay the bills." 

"So do I, and I pay for this, so-" you motion for her to get out, clutching your phone tight. You give in when you see she doesn't move, "Fine, what?" 

"So Jake told me to tell you that they're not going to the Queen Mary anymore. Johnnie got sick and he bailed and Jake doesn't want to do it without him." 

Hmm, that's funny, you think as you nod, "Oh okay. We'll I'll just text John-" 

She shakes her head, giving you a quick, "No. he's asleep. I guess whatever he has is bad." 

"Oh, well. Okay. I guess I'll just stay here and film a video or something." You look down at your phone, laying back as you read a text from Jake, I still want to go, but I don't want to go without you. 

"Yeah, I think that's a good idea. You can do that new makeup routine one that you've been saying about." 

"Well, if we're not going anymore, why don't we do that truth or drunk video? We have that new deck of cards from that PR package." You lay your phone face down on the bed and look at her. 

"I scheduled an appointment to get my nails done since we weren't going, so that's what I'm going to do." She shrugs, "Maybe tomorrow?" 

You nod, "That's fine." 

She walks out, not saying another word and you let out a huff as you sit up. You go back into Jake's messages and you smirk as you read over his new text, I cancelled so no worries. 

You laugh slightly and listen as you hear Kelsie on the phone with, who you assume is Jake, "I'll let her know. I know, I'm sad about it, too." 

She walks quickly past your room and goes into hers, closing the door before you can hear anything else. 

Later that day, as you're standing in the kitchen you hear the door open, "Hello?" 

Jake walks around the corner and smiles, "Hey Kels." 

You freeze, mind racing at a hundred miles an hour, He thinks I'm Kelsie? There's no way.

"I know I'm early." He says walking over to you. 

This is your moment, you think, fucking take it. 

"Hey, no it's okay." You smile and close your computer. You turn towards him but you're stopped from saying anything else by his lips crashing onto yours. 

You can be Kelsie. 

Your hands move to his neck, pulling yourself closer to him. He moves your laptop over, lifting you up to set you down on the counter. 

He pushes his way between your knees and slides you closer to the edge as he kisses down your necks. 

You tilt your head, breathing out, "Jake." 

His phone ringing in his pocket, cutting whatever this is short. He steps back, eyes on you as he takes his phone out of his pocket. 

You can't see the screen but he tells you that it's Johnnie. 

"Hey." He walks away, "No, I'm not busy, what's up?" 

You hear the front door shut and you're left sitting on the counter in complete confusion. You look around, trying to fathom what just happened, what you just did. 

"Oh my god." You slide down off the counter, grabbing your laptop before running to your room. You click on your friend's contact, instantly calling them. 

"Hello?" 

"I need to talk to you." You say quickly, pacing back and forth in your room. 

"Okay, do you want me to come over?" 

"No." You say quickly, "I'll come to you. I fucked up." 

"I'll leave the door unlocked." 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"You pretended to be Kelsie?!" Your friend laughs, "I mean, I don't blame you. You liked him first." 

You groan, "Yes, but at the same time.. I broke a certain trust with Kelsie. Like, that's.." you sigh, "What if she finds out? What if Jake tells her? I can't just say sorry to her. When trust like that is broken, sorry means absolutely nothing." 

You stand up, pacing around the room, "I'm also very confused. Like why would he just.. he has to know who we are? Right? Like after a while he just.." 

"I don't know, Jake can be smart, but he can always be very stupid at times." Your friend laughs, "He couldn't have mixed you guys up. I can tell which one you are from behind." 

You bite your lip, "I'm gonna call him." 

Your friend sits up from their bed and shakes their head, "What if he's with Kelsie?" 

"You're right." You sigh, sitting down as you stare at your phone, "Fuck it. If they're together I'll just see if they want to do that truth or drink video." 

Your thumb hovers over the little phone icon before you tap it, taking a breath as you hear the line ring a few times on speaker. 

"Yellow." Jake says, a cheery tone to his voice, "What can I do for you?" 

"Are you with my sister?" You ask and he hums, "That depends. What are you calling for?" 

Your eyes go wide as you look at your friend who covers their mouth. 

"I'm, um. Calling to see if you guys want to do a video with me? A truth or drink video." You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

"I'm on my way to go pick her up now, I can see if she wants to do it later?" He says and you nod to yourself, "Yeah, I mean. That's fine. Just le-"

"That's not why you called me." 

His words cause a feeling of panic to rush through you, "Yes it was." 

"Mm. Are you sure? The tone in your voice makes it sound li-" 

You cut him off, "just let me know." You hang up and toss your phone away from you. 

"What the fuck was that?!" Your friend asks pushing your arm, "We were literally about to figure out if he meant to do what he did or not." 

Your phone vibrates and your friend holds it up with Jake's name and picture on the screen. 

"Just.. I can't.. okay. I just.." you sigh, grabbing it from her hand and answering it. 

"Hello?" You put the phone on speaker and Jake sighs, "What's going on with you?" 

"What do you mean what's going on with me?" You snap, "Sorry that.. came out meaner than I intended." 

Jake laughs, "You don't seem like.. you anymore? What's up with that?" 

"What do you mean?" You chew on your nail and he groans a dramatic groan, "You're going to be the death of me, y/n. What do you mean what do I mean?" 

"I don't.. know what to tell you, because I'm fine." You rest your fingers on your lips lightly, "I'm good. You're good. We're good." 

"Mm." Jake hums, "Alright, if you say so. I'll see you tonight." 

"Tonight?" You ask, slightly nervous and Jake laughs, "For truth or drink? I'm not giving Kelsie a choice. I want to hang out with you, too." 

You mouth 'I want to hang out with you, too.. what?' to your friend and they shrug, "Okay. I'm not home right now, but I'll go home and get everything set up." 

"Where are you?" He asks and you can hear the car go into park. 

"I'm at y/f/n's house." You answer and he is quiet for a minute, "Okay. Kelsie is coming. I gotta go." 

"Talk to you later." You sigh quietly and Jake laughs slightly, "Yeah, love ya."

You hear the three beeps and slowly look up from your phone to your friend. They're staring at you, "I need to to get my hearing checked because that sounded a lot like-" 

"I know." You cut them off. 

You stand up, tucking your phone into your back pocket, "Can you join the video with us?" Your friend nods, "Do I have time to get ready?" 

"You can get ready while I set up." You grab your keys and take a deep breath, "What the fuck is going on?" 

They rub your back, "I know it's hard, and it's going to be hard, but for now, just think of him as a dirty little secret." 

"Yeah, my beautiful, dirty little secret that won't eat me alive." You roll your eyes, laughing slightly, "What the fuck did I get myself into?"

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

You walk into the house and it's quiet. 

"Kels?" You call out, looking back at your friend as you walk in, "You home?" You close the door and shrug, "I guess they aren't here yet." 

You walk to the room and set your stuff down. You sit in the chair and feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. 

"Can I use some of your makeup?" Your friend asks and you nod while you pull your phone out, "Yeah, whatever you want." 

Your eyes scan over the text from Jake, I'm actually really exited to see you. 

"He just said.. I'm actually really exited to see you. What the fuck does that mean?" You tell to your friend, looking up as they walk into the room, "It means he's excited to see you." 

You groan, setting your phone down. 

"Answer him back." They motion to your phone and you sigh, "What if it's a trap? Sometimes when he's with Kelsie I'm half afraid that it's her setting me up." 

Your friend laughs, "I'm starting to think that there's really no mix up at all. He had to know that you were you." 

"Fine." You grab your phone, "But if Kelsie is setting me up, I'm moving to a remote island. I can't take the humiliation she'll put me through." 

Your thumbs tap the screen, I'm excited to film this video. 

"What did you say?" Your friend walks around and looks over your shoulder, "Really?" 

You shrug, "I didn't know what else to say?" 

"About what?" Keslie asks as she walks into the room, hand in hand with Jake. You lock your phone, setting it down in your lap, "Nothing." 

"Ooh." She smirks, "Got a little secret, hmm?" 

Your eyes move to Jake, "No. no secret." 

You watch as his eyebrow twitches and he fights back a smirk. You roll your eyes, "Let's just, get ready so we can make this video." 

You get up and walk to your room, your friend close behind, "Hey." They whisper, "You like totally did a three sixty. What's up?" 

You pull them into your room and close the door, "I'm just.. so confused by this whole thing. I don't even want to do this I don't know why I even said it." 

"Well they're here now. Can't really back out of it now." They shrug and sit down to do their makeup, "We can make it a quick one, just try and get her to tap out first." 

You sit down, "She'll pick right up on my games, y/f/n. I can't just-" you shake your head, "I'll talk to him when the time is right I guess." 

An hour into filming, you've already had to take a few shots, mainly for dumb questions. 

"Alright." You sigh, "my turn." You lean forward, slipping a card from the top of the deck, "If anyone in this room has had or has a secret crush, take a shot or reveal said crush to skip the drink." 

"My secret crush is that barista down the road." Your friend says with a laugh and you look over at them, "The blonde one?"  

They nod, "Oh yeah." They smirk and push their shot glass away, "I'm safe." 

You look at Kelsie and Jake, "Spill or drink, you pick." 

Jake smirks, filling his little glass, "Yeah, I'll just.." he takes his shot while Kelsie stares at him, "Um, okay?" She rolls her eyes, forcing out a laugh. 

"Who's yours, Kels?" Your friend asks and she smirks, leaning into Jake, "Jake of course." 

"Yeah that wasn't really a secret." You laugh and she looks at you, "What do you mean by that?" 

"Okay." Jake says, "Next question, y/f/n, you can go." He motions to the cards and your friend takes one off the top, "Mm. Okay. Would you hook up with your high school crush?" 

You immediately answer, "Oh yeah." 

Jake was your high school crush. 

"I would." Jake nods and looks at Kelsie, "Would you?" 

She sighs, "I mean, if i wasn't dating you and had the change.." she nods, "Probably. Yeah." 

Kelsie reaches up, taking a card. She giggles as she reads it, "what is the craziest thing you've ever done?" 

Your eyes go wide as a flashback of Jake putting you up on the counter flashes in your mind. You blink it away, straightening up as you look around pretending to think, "mm." 

"Craziest thing I've ever done was probably do that free fall thing, you know the thing that catches you by the net?" Your friend says and Kelsie gasps, "You really did that?" 

Your friend nods, "Oh yeah. I'd totally do it again." 

"I wanna do that." Kelsie looks at Jake, "We should go one of these days!" 

Jake nods, "Yeah, we can all go. Y/f/n said she wants to go again." 

You smirk slightly, covering it up with your fist, "I'm not adventurous enough to do anything crazy." You lie, "So I'll just.." you pour yourself a drink, knocking it back before setting down the glass. 

"I've done way too many crazy things, so I'll just take one." Jake laughs as he pours a shot. He tilts his head back, giving you a wink as you look at him before setting down his empty glass, "My turn." 

Another hour of question and you guys just drinking whenever you want later, you sigh, "I think this video is over." You laugh, "We have enough footage I think, who knows." 

Kelsie laughs, clearly drunk, "It's fine, sis. We can make it work." She reaches across the table and pats your hand with hers. 

She gets super lovey and nice when she's drunk, so that's how you know she's done for the night. 

"I think it's bedtime for Kelsie." You pat her hand and she sighs, "Nooo. I want music." She stands up, "Alexa, play today's pop hits." 

Greedy by Tate McRae comes on and she moves her chair, dancing and singing to the music. 

You look at Jake, "How do you deal with this?" He shrugs, looking from Kelsie to you, "I just.. do." He laughs slightly and stands up, "Alright, lady. Bed time." 

She lets out a whine as he pulls her towards the door.

You stand up, leaning over your friend to turn off the camera, "I'll edit this tomorrow, Alexa. Off." 

The song stops playing and you sit back down, "What do I do?" 

"I think, you should just talk to him." Your friend nudges you, "I'll keep watch in case Boozey McPlastered makes an appearance." 

You sigh, "Thank you." 

They nod, "Of course. You deserve the happy ended you wanted in the first place." 

You and your friend walk to the kitchen, still drinking up courage to come clean to Jake about everything. 

A little bit later you look from the hall to your friend, "I haven't heard anything in a while, maybe he fell asleep with her." 

"No he didn't." Jake says walking around the corner with a laugh, "What's going on here?" 

"Just.. having a casual conversation over some alcohol.. ya know girl talk." You laugh, completely loosened up from the shots and added drinks. 

"Ah huh." He says slowly, "I see. Well can I join, I mean." He clicks his tongue, "I am one of americas favorite ladies." 

You laugh, sliding your glass over, "You sure can." 

"Would you look at that." Your friend checks their phone, "I'm going to go to bed, in the guest bedroom.. in case you needed to find me." They walk away and Jake looks from them to you, "They're not very slick, you know?" 

"Yeah." You sigh, "I know." 

There's a few minutes of silence before you both talk at the same time. 

"So about-"

"So I ju-" 

You point, "Go ahead." 

Jake shakes his head laughing, "No, you go. Sorry." 

You sigh, "I don't even, actually know how to, or even what to say." You laugh slightly and Jake brings a hand up, twirling a piece of your hair, "You know what to do." 

Without thinking, you lean in, pressing your lips to his for a few seconds. You lean back, shock taking over, "I just.. I don't.." you stumble over your words and Jake starts to smile, "Do it again." 

You freeze, looking from his eyes to his lips, "Why?" 

He shrugs, licking his lips, "Because I want you to." 

"What about-"

He cuts you off, "I want you, wanted you all along. You just didn't seem like you wanted me, but since your friend told me that Kelsie is only with me out of spite because you liked me first.." he reaches out, hooking his thumb into the belt loop of your jeans and pulling you towards him, "..things have changed."

A smirk grows on your lips as you move to him, placing your hand on his chest, "You know?" 

He nods, "And just to confirm.." he smirks, looking into your eyes, "There's no mix up. I can tell you and her apart by your hands. I just wanted to test it, see if you'd kiss me back." 

"Well, doesn't seem like I will?" You smile and he nods, tilting his head as he slides his hand around to grab your ass, "Seems like you'll do a lot more, babe." 

Your heart feels like it's about to thump from your chest, "You have no idea." You move your head in, hands moving to tangle in his hair as you plant your lips on his. 

He bends down, lifting you up. Your legs wrap around his waist, and it's like earlier all over again. But only this time, he walks you to your room. 

He salutes your friend who's sitting on the floor by the guest bedroom, watching Kelsie's door. Your friend covers her mouth to not laugh and salutes him back. 

Thank you, you mouth quietly to them and they wave you off. 

Jake walks into your room, turning to quietly shut and lock the door. He walks you over to your bed, laying you down slowly as his body hovers over yours. 

Your lips reconnect, quickly leading into a hot, passionate, well earned make out. 

You moan quietly against his lips and he leans back slightly, "You gonna be quiet for me while I finally get a taste of you?" 

You nod, "Anything you want." 

"Well, I want you, but I think we've already been over that." He winks and brushes hair from your face, "Undress for me." 

He moves to stand up, discarding his clothes as you quickly take yours off. 

You lay back down, Jake moving up to peck your lips before kissing down your body. 

His head dips between your legs and his tongue drags upward between your folds. You arch your back, biting down onto your lip as his tongue moves to thrust inside of you. 

Your hands move to his hair, pushing down as your fingers tangle in his hair. 

You feel him groan lowly against you, digging his fingers into your hips harder as he pulls you to him. 

You knew it was wrong, but it feels so, so, so fucking nice. 

Jake glances up at you before attaching his lips to your clit. Your eyes roll back as the pleasured sensation washes through you. 

"Jake." You whimper out quietly, looking down at him. He slides a hand down around from your hip, dragging it under your thigh to slip two of his fingers into your wet cunt. 

You gasp, bucking your hips slightly as you breathe out a quiet, "s-shit." 

He curls his fingers, thrusting them in and out at a teasingly slow pace. 

You spread your knees farther apart, biting hard on your lip as your eyes lock onto his. He turns his head, planting gentle kisses on the inside of your thigh. 

He slowly pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to his lips. You watch in awe as he licks them clean, enjoying every drop he can get from them. 

He moves back up, pushing his hips between your knees. His lips crash onto yours, his tongue sharing the flavor of your juices as it moves against yours. 

He groans lowly as the tip of his cock rubs against your center, "I've never needed anything as much as I need you wrapped around my cock right now." 

You roll your hips, voice quiet and slightly desperate, "Please, Jake." 

He reaches down, guiding his cock steady as he pushes the head of his cock into you. 

You gasp, "oh my-" 

Jake lays his hand over your mouth, "Gotta be quiet babe." He watches as you nod before resting his forehead against yours, "Fuck." 

He slowly pulls out, thrusting back in slowly. His voice is deep, quiet, "You feel so good." 

Your arm slings around his neck, legs around his waist. His hand still over your mouth, muffling your moans as his thrusts build up to a quicker pace. 

He moves his hand to replace it with his lips. Your lips move in sync as your nails drag up his back. 

Nothing makes sense right now, but at the same time it feels so nice to finally get what you wanted for a change. 

You lay a hand on his cheek, moaning quietly as you feel close, "D-don't stop." You whimper out, "I'm so close." 

You squeeze his cock with your walls, earning a groan from him, "Fuck." He kisses down your neck, biting and sucking a hickey onto your skin. 

You didn't care at this point. 

If he was going to be your dirty little secret, you were going to have to lie anyway, right? 

You pull him closer, digging your nails into his skin as you finally let go, biting down on your lip as you cum around his cock. 

Jake places his hand over your mouth, muffling the moans you can't hold back. 

"That's it." He whispers, planting a kiss to your forehead, "Do you feel good?" 

You move your eyes to look up at him, nodding as much as you can. 

"Good. Roll over for me." He pulls out, moving to rest back on his calves as he watching you roll over onto your stomach. 

He leans down, one arm by your head to support himself as his cock is re-welcomed by your walls, "So fucking good." He moves down to his elbow, sliding his other hand over to lay it on your neck. 

He gently squeezes as he whispers in your ear, "So who was your high school crush?" 

He already knows the answer to that. You wouldn't have answered as fast as you did if it wasn't him. 

"You." You breathe out, "Fuck, Jake it was you. Always you." 

He groans lowly, nipping at your ear as he holds his cock still, "You're gonna make me cum." He laughs slightly, "I kind of don't want to do that yet." 

You nod as he dips his head down to kiss your shoulder, "kind of don't wanna pull out either." 

"So don't." You whisper, not even fully sure of what you said. 

It was an in the moment kind of thing. 

"You don't want me to?" He slowly starts to thrust again and you shake your head, "not really." You turn your head, looking at him from over your shoulder. 

He kisses your cheek, "Now it's really tempting." He leans up, grabbing your hips as he thrusts in and out. 

You lay your head down, biting down on the pillow so you don't sound too loud, "Fuck. Fuck." 

Jake reaches down, grabbing a handful of your hair, tilting your head back slightly and you resume biting down on your lip as you fight to control your moans. 

"You're so hot." Jake groans lowly, "Feels so. Fucking. Good." 

You gasp, clenching around him as you cum once more, laying a hand over your own mouth as you allow the pleasure to consume you. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and he pauses, allowing his cock to twitch and spill inside of you. 

He lets go of your hair, leaning down to kiss your shoulder, "You okay?" 

You turn your head, nodding, "I'm okay." You smile as you lift yourself up. Jake moves, looking around before he grabs a towel off your chair. 

You clean up, sitting up to slip your shirt back on, "I hate to be this girl, but what does this mean?" 

"For us?" He asks getting dressed, "Well, I think it means that I want to be with you and I have to find an easy way to let your sister down." 

You nod, running a hand through your hair, "Yeah." 

Jake's moves to sit next to you, "What's up?" 

"I just.. everything feels like it's a mess.." you lean into him, "But everything also feels so right when it comes to you." 

Jake tilts your chin up, looking down at you, "It's going to be you and me, like it should have been from the start. Okay?" 

You nod and he presses a kiss to your nose, "I promise." 

"She's going to lose it, might even hate me when she finds out that you left her to be with me." You laugh slightly, "I just.. a part of me feels bad but at the same time.." you sit up and look at Jake, "It feels so fucking good." 

He pulls you onto his lap, hands sliding down to your waist, "Which part feels so fucking good exactly." You smile as he lays back, "If you have time, I can just show you." 

He raises his brows, "I like the sound of that." 

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

I genuinely feel like this one fucking sucked for some reason, I struggled to write it. But as always, let me know how you liked it, ilysm thanks for reading. 

Like and reblogs are appreciated 🖤

Taglist: @fawned01 @theblackcatwitch @jaeyuns-world @littlec0ffeegirl @rosie-writings @nikkiwastaken @skyslondon @urmomsgirlfriend1 @this-is-not-eirini @666-gothic-bat-666 @udonknowmeh12 @inside--her--fantasy @btaekookies

[childrenofcain-if]

Yeah, as accomplished and impressive as the mc is, the mc is far from a Mary Sue/Gary Stu. Literally, the scene with V where they try to cook? I cringed when I heard their plans for it (but trying new things is crucial to being good at them). Not to mention other scenes just showing the unbalanced lifestyle (I found Elias asking if the mc had their credit cards to be particularly hilarious) and things they lack. It's not like the mc reaches and touches an extracurricular, and whoops, Bam, Magnus Carlson!

They've also suffered not insignificantly (I can't possibly imagine losing a parent at that young of an age, let alone one you're close to.) And that nosebleed thing must've been a hell of a scare. Also - your reflection looking like that (as in non human or supernatural) would be terrifying. My life isn't notably bad, certainly not all sunshine and rainbows, but if I was offered to become mc and go through all that they will or even all that they have?

Yeah, I think I'll pass. I also think some of it might be people thinking the mc is completely effortless - which I have no idea where they got that - but it's evident while they aren't average in intelligence, they busted their ass off even if they try to play it laidback style. They got the best tutors in the world from a very young age - but that also meant they were using those resources constantly and studying. Not to mention, I think somewhere it's mentioned how mc's time was basically entirely split between studying, extracurriculars, and volunteering.

They're not a god. Just a mortal who had very fortunate resources who worked very, very hard with those resources. Hell, take a normal person with mid resources and have them use that schedule of studying, extracurriculars, and volunteering, and I'd bet they would turn out pretty damn accomplished/impressive too, even if they're not as good as the mc. It's what Richard Feymann said - you can get a normal person to understand quantum physics. They just have to study it well, hard, and for a while.

Yeah, the mc is rich and have quite the privilege, but that doesn't mean they didn't work hard for it and also lost some things in the trade off (mc might know how to cook if they weren't studying "all" the time and took the time to learn, for example)

Mc kind of reminds me of what's referred to as a glass cannon - exceptionally good at one or a few things, but at the severe (and probably unworthy) detriment of being very bad at others. Does mc even know what FAFSA is?

Also, the literal fatal flaw? An actual list? And mc can be as stupid (wisdom stat, not intelligence) and just party all the time.

If anons were going to pick on a character for being "too perfect" then M almost makes more sense. 10 languages, God knows how many instruments, in a good position in HoS, is probably crushing all of their classes, and is majoring in philosophy which can get wildly difficult now and again before toning back down (Nietzche, Kant, and Hegel, probably). Oh, they're also an RA. They to me seem more insane than mc does, even a mc who is designed to be crazy like vocal lessons, two sports, robotics, and debate club, with no burnout. And yet, they are perfectly flawed.

The mc just worked exceptionally hard, is clever, and had literally the best possible resources to get the most bang for their (or rather, Elias's) buck. I think about anyone would - at least - do very well in academia and extracirriculars if they had the best tutors in the world training them in those respective areas from a very young age.

this.

[sl33paholics]

Pay Attention To Me

Baki Hanma x Dom!Black!fem reader

Warning(s): smut (handjob), fem!dom! reader, odaxelagnia, slang, crying, overstimulation, teasing, a bit of degrading, bounding, ball-play

Edit: Why is this getting so popular? I literally made this bc I was bored 😭

You're the second girlfriend Baki has gotten in his whole life. After him and Kozue didn't see eye to eye on things, they've decided to end their relationship. It left the poor boy heart broken and didn't bother to search for another as she was his one and only soulmate, the second woman he could share his trust and secrets to.

The two of you came across each other when you were at a convince store one evening after school, your cart stacked with snacks as you stared at the different varieties of milk on the shelf. You were exhausted. You didn't even notice a dark-haired boy staring at your direction as you mindlessly stood there. "Get strawberry." You turned your head to where the voice came from. "Strawberry milk. It'll suit a pretty lady like yourself." He'd say, walking off. You couldn't help but giggle.

Soon, one encounter turned into another. The two of you kept seeing each other at that store once, twice, hell, even three times a week. You sometimes even wondered if he was there to buy something or to just see you and chit-chat. Eventually, you two became friends in the process. Hanging out at different locations, walking through the park, in the city. You were flattered by the guy's presence and personality. Baki was comfortable enough to tell you about his previous relationship, sharing both the joys and heartbreaks that shaped him. As your friendship deepened, you found solace in the genuine connection, realizing that sometimes, unexpected encounters could lead to the most meaningful relationships. The two of you began dating soon after.

It's been weeks since you two started dating, and you were already fed up by the frustration of the fact that Baki wasn't paying enough attention to you, not enough PDA. You'd often find yourself lonely. He'd disappear for so long and come back for a short time, only to be gone. He'd never let you into his business. You'd notice recent bruises on his face and body and didn't dare to question him about it.

It just irked your soul. This whole thing made you into an irate woman. You didn't bother to speak to him whenever he came back, never answering your messages or listening to voice emails. But oh, he always knew where to find you. Whenever coming out of the shower, you'd always see him at your window tap tap tappin' away for you to let him in to talk.

Now here you are, at his small vandalized house in the middle of the night. The soft, whimpering sounds coming from Baki as you tied him up, Frog Tie style. He was laid on his back, staring at you as you took off your clothes, revealing your black corset lingerie. Baki couldn't look away from how alluring you looked. His poor cock twitching in eagerness. Baki slowly sat up, attempting to break free from the rope before being slammed back down onto the ground, making a grunt sound looking up to see your smug expression. "Y/N, please..." he whined, his voice deep and husky with arousal. You chuckled as you lubed up your hand, you grabbed his cock and wrapped your fingers around it, your pinky finger is close to his balls while your index finger was more close to the top of his shaft. Baki felt your fingertips touching the head.

You slowly stroked him up and down with your hand. "Say, Baki, you're strong. How come you can't break free out of the rope, hmm??" You ask, drawing your attention to the look on his face. The expression of neediness and embarrassment plastered was over. You couldn't help but chuckle. How pathetic he looked under you as you took control. "Those scars on your naked body, the bruised marks on your face, you should be able to break free, pin me down, and fuck me into oblivion. But you ain't, tell me." Baki was panting heavily, the slow strokes were sending him on the edge as his cock was awfully stiff and hard. He didn't know what to say. He wasn't expecting to get bounded up like this. It was humiliating.

Baki turned his head to the side, his hair covering his eyes, his chest rising up and down rapidly. He felt your other hand grab his face, his lips puckering together as you turned his head back to face you. "Did I say that you could look away," Baki shook his head. "Then why did you do it? Did I give you permission to do that?!" You swiftly moved your hand down to his neck, giving it a grip and seeing his eyes widen. As you continued stroking him up and down, you rubbed your thumb over and back on the head of his cock. Baki was shuddering. It didn't help that the rest of his body was beginning to heat up. He felt it all from his stomach to his chest.

Unexpectedly, Baki was somehow able to jerk away from you, catching you off guard. He was trying to find a way to get his arms free. You quickly grabbed the boy and turned him over. Baki's ass up was now up in the air and on all fours. You smacked his ass, hearing a yelp escape from his mouth. Again, and again, and again, and again. More and more, the welping now turned into mewling. Using your other hand to grab Baki's neck, lifting him up towards you, he was now sobbing. "Don't fuckin' play with me," you said gripping his ass, he could feel your nails in his skin "You think you slick? Trying to move away from me? Fuckin' try it." Your grip became tighter, and harder. The boy tried to scream but it came out as a squeal.

You pushed him back down, his head hitting the ground as Baki groaned. Leaning down, putting your head in his neck area, you began to kiss it lightly. You could feel his body tense up, and then relax. You continued kissing him, making sure he wouldn't move around too much. Baki let out another squeak of pleasure, this time one that seemed a little more desperate than before. As you were continuing the sweet torture, you went back to jerking him off. Your hands went towards his sack, you gently fondled with them as your movement on his cock went at a rapid pace. His body trembling. Those kisses soon turned into biting, you left hickeys all over his neck but others looked like genuine bite marks.

You felt pre-cum dripping. "Hm? Close to cumming, Baki? You're gonna explode all in ma' hand? Like the little bitch you are?" You said in his ear, he was now moaning loudly. Not caring to hold back the sounds of pleasure coming from his mouth, you started sucking his earlobe. "Mmm...you taste so good baby. I love when yer moanin' like that. It gets my heart goin'."

Baki finally came. Your hand was now covered in his seed as he lay there, drooling out of his mouth and tears still running down his cheeks. He felt exhausted. He felt defeated. Baki closed his eyes as he tried to control his breathing. You began to remove the rope off his body, seeing him go limp. "Next time, your pushiment would be harder, baby."

[sillygoofyqueer]

The System watching the cut antagonist/rival Heavenly Demon Crow, Shen Yuan, gradually gaining more followers and notoriety as a Diety, while spoiling LBH with secret gifts:

[…]

[…]

[…]

[Congratulations! Congratulations! Congratulations! You’ve triggered the hidden plot-line ‘A light in the Darkness’. You will now receive ‘merits’ as B-points.]

Meanwhile error messages are blaring internally, as it tries to take control of the situation and pretend it’s all according to plan. XD

This is so silly, and yet also exactly what happened. The system is frantically throwing files upon files of potential plotlines that Airplane scrapped around, trying to figure out just what the hell is going on. The real reason it's been rather quiet during Shen Yuan's rise to power was because it had crashed when it realised what was occurring. This wasn't supposed to happen!! Shen Yuan was supposed to become a heavenly demon that would go up against Luo Binghe and lose, or figure out a way around it - but not become a literal god in his own right! What the fuck?! This damn user, ruining all of the system's wonderful plans. Of course, the system is nothing if not resourceful, so it wrestles its way through the ideas that Airplane had, from the absolutely masterful to downright shitty, searching for any form of explanation they can pull out of their ass. When they don't find one, they make one. They've studied Airplane's work more closely than even Shen Yuan has, and they know how his mind works. So, after working with the other system of the world to get Airplane's view on the matter, they've created a whole plotline that explains what Shen Yuan is doing perfectly, so they edit the system to turn merits into B-points as though it was always part of their plan, sit back and watch everything fall into place. Wait. WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE'S FOCUSED MORE ON HELPING HIS FOLLOWERS THAN GETTING MORE POWER?!??!-