#this boy is just so goddamn beautiful like a doll

[lordzuuko]

The most handsome reindeer :'D

[weebsinstash]

I'm not typically a fan of pregnancy au stuff for hazbin because it introduces a hell lotta new questions, but anyways, I DO find it absolutely entertaining thinking about a Reader who did the nasty with Alastor and had kind of a friends-with-benefits situation with him and he does his whole 7 year disappearing act without warning you or telling you anything at all (assumedly because he did not have a choice or opportunity) and he comes back, knocking on your front door, "say, doll! What's say we mosey on over to our old favorite jazz club to catch up on old times?"

and suddenly peeking out from behind your back is just the cutest little fawn with a head full of curls who is very clearly Alastor's son, clutching at your apron, "Mama, isn't he the man you listen to those old recordings of? He sounds the same"

Alastor feeling this, this WARMTH in his chest as you invite him inside your home and it's completely different from the last time he was there, filled with everything your son could need, his drawings and report cards from that nice school you break your back to afford stuck lovingly on the fridge and a hot home-cooked meal currently cooling on the stove as Alastor's invited for some food... if he feels comfortable. You and him discuss privately where your son can't hear as you get all weepy, "I'm sorry, but when you disappeared, I couldn't... ASK you what you would have wanted... I didn't want to have some kind of, of PROCEDURE and you hate me for it... and even from the very first scan, I loved him so much... he's my entire world... I couldn't even CONSIDER... getting rid of him. He's my beautiful smart baby boy and i would die for him"

Genuinely I think it would be real funny if Alastor is initially quite jealous actually for having to share you with a CHILD, but the more time he spends around the young boy, the more he realizes, oh, this is quite the upstanding young fellow! His mama raised him right and he likes to help around the house, likes to read lots of books, loves all kinds of music, helps his mother on all the crosswords and word searches and puzzle books, and he's smart enough to suss out pretty quickly, "sir are you my father"

and the second your son receives an answer, just, KICKING THE RADIO DEMON IN THE SHIN, "You're a horrible man!! You call yourself a gentleman but you left my mama to raise a baby all by herself!! You're terrible! Incorrigible! Disrespectful! Untoward!--" Your young son is breaking out the goddamn dictionary and synonyms on this man, "you lying, deceitful, devious, DEPLORABLE--"

And Alastor is watching this little kid threaten to beat his ass and not even caring that he's up against The Infamous Radio Demon, just shouting at Alastor until the young boy is absolutely changing colors in the face, getting SO SO upset for his mama that he's ready to FIGHT OVER IT, and Alastor is just, essentially, breaking out into laughter, "oh, so you ARE my son!! Aren't you a gutsy one!! Put JUST a little force behind that next one and it might actually sting a bit!" and pats the boy on the head. That settles it; he's accepted as Alastor's son like THAT

Of course, Alastor now caring for this boy does not come without its... complications. There might be some 'incidents' if you, for example, have other positive role models for your son, other men who are regularly coming around, making Alastor's new position as the boy's father and your not-quite-husband (yet) feel threatened and unstable and encouraging the Radio Demon to 'act out'. You're so happy to have Alastor back in your life that you don't even notice things are a little off until your son starts mentioning things like "Mama where did Mr Thomas go? He used to come by every Thursday to play chess but I don't remember seeing him for a while?" "Mama I know Benson has bullied me and pushed me down and stolen my things but I saw his mom crying outside the bookstore earlier saying he's gone missing and I think we should help look for him" "Mama I know Mr Alastor said we don't need her and he can teach me but I also like my old piano teacher. Could I have some lessons with her and some with Mr Alastor instead of just all of them with him? I miss Ms. Mason"

But like... you don't want to deny Alastor a relationship with his child after they both have already lost so much time and you don't want to deprive your son of his father without a good reason, so you stifle some of your suspicions. It's all for your son's sake, isn't it? And you can't help but, get a little selfish when Alastor insists on taking you and your boy out, going to see live bands, going to local events, taking your son to the county fair and you feeling tears in your eyes as, your boy finally gets to spend time with his father. It's like... it's like you're a real family... you've always wanted something like this, for him, for them, for yourself--

But... Alastor doesn't... see you THAT way, does he? He displays his emotions much differently than you, and there were even times in the past where Alastor himself drew the line in the sand that, oh yes you two were quite close friends, he has such a deep affection for you, but... romantically? Sorry, sweetheart, but no

... or so he thought. Now that he's back, he sees how deeply you love his son and sacrifice so much for him amd how much your son absolutely adores you and how, completely by yourself, without any of Alastor's help, you raised him into a fine young man that... the Radio Demon could see himself helping raise, a boy he can't help but feel a little pride in helping make and, can't help but feel a little sad he missed all sorts of important milestones for. And of course, of course of course of course, he missed YOU ever so much, and when Alastor looks up from his paper to see you at the stove, hair all out of place and your hands messy as you cook a meal for your son and his father, your little boy dutifully helping clean as you go, he can't help wish that THIS was how he spent his last 7 years.

Lucifer have mercy on anyone who tries to disrupt his new utopia of peace and tranquility. Could you even imagine, could you even fucking imagine you and Alastor are walking with your son and nearby TVs snap on and it's fucking Vox, showing your family on TV, talking shit to Alastor, using HORRIBLE language in front of your son--

And Alastor feels his love for you grow all the more as you use your own magic to surge through the television and begin strangling the newscaster right on the air, "DONT YOU DARE SHOW MY SON'S FACE ON TV YOU FUCKING--" and Alastor starts lovingly conversing with his son about how important it is to stand up for your family and your values as the pair of them watch you throw Vox around his recording studio in a frenzied rage, "You and your disgusting Vees always trying to peddle your worthless garbage to kids, you CREEPS!! BABIES DON'T NEED IPADS, RETINOL CREAMS, SKEEYEE DANCE ROUTINES, AND ATHLEISUREWEAR LEGGINGS THAT GO UP THEIR ASS, YOU CONSUMERIST IMMORAL SHELL OF A HUMAN BEING--"

Snapcut to you rejoining your family on the sidewalk with your hair a mess and visible blood on you while Vox is facedown on the floor in his broadcast unable to move before it cuts to a "technical difficulties, please stand by" screen. Alastor is oh so genuinely joyfully smiling, "Now who wants to go and get some waffles? I say we should celebrate any victory over our enemies with some tasty grub!!" and he takes you and your son's hands and is all but skipping down the sidewalk while his hated rival is bleeding out in his tower somewhere. Oh, Alastor will give the Television Demon his own revenge for daring to try and shame the lovely beautiful mother of his child and his beloved boy on that disgusting show. What kind of degenerate uses children for content, let alone threatens their safety? Alastor will be back for him later and do much, MUCH worse than you did.

For now, though? Alastor just wants to enjoy the sight of you and his son sitting in a booth with him while you all scarf down some hotcakes. A family of his very own, huh? How wonderful. If only his own mom were here to see it...

[councilofcastamere]

HOTLINE | GHOSTFACE X FEM!READER

a b r i d g e m e n t : ghostface has been stalking you for some time… but do you even care?

TW: masturbation, stalking, degradation in a sickeningly sweet tone (pet names), reader being absolutely whipped for ghost, oral (both receiving)

A/N: credits for the second picture belong to jadegpp on pinterest 💋

“Yeah, I’m telling ya, Stacy, the trip was bitchin’.” you rambled adorably through the brick cell, your vacant hand focused on painting your toe nails.

your hands were beautifully manicured, he noted, and before you could say another word to your friend over the phone, his aching member was already being freed from his trousers. it wasn’t often that a potential victim could get him this hard on the first day of stalking, but you were just too pretty.

your perfectly plump lips were rambling on, and he just wished he could slip his cock inside of those, holding your head in place. your pretty nails were shining due to the lamp at your nightstand.

“Yeah, no, I wouldn’t even do that for 10 dollars… what was Brody thinking?” you giggled, throwing your head back.

how he wished he could mark that beautiful neck, kiss it, suck it, squeeze it. his fingers gave the first tug at his throbbing cock, his eyes focused on your legs. your left foot was placed on your right knee, giving him a glimpse of your soaked panties.

“Come on, Stacy, Brady and Louis were definitely trying to cop a feel at me. It was pretty bodacious.” you grin, biting your lip.

oh? you’re getting off on two boys? his hands were pumping his cock even faster, watching you squeeze your thighs together.

“Yeah, I gotta go, call ya later,” you say in a high-pitched phone, quickly putting it back into place and finally sneaking your hand on your panties, rubbing over the fabric.

goosebumps started to grow on your skin, and your trembling hand rubbed the fabric into your throbbing pussy, soaking the cloth.

and as he watched from a window, he furiously stroked his aching cock, leaking every thrust as he got so far into it, he pushed his hips up into his hand.

fuck. his little doll was just too pretty. she deserved to be fucked hard and deep, like only a prince could fuck his princess. for that pretty face alone, she deserved his cock. his cock only belonged to her.

and as he watched you slip the panties to your knees, your perfect clit perfectly positioned on display, his claims were proven true.

your slender fingers made their way onto your clit, rubbing and daring. how adorable that your cheeks were already red, it made him wonder how you would react bouncing on his thick cock.

you bit your lip, your eyes focused on the locked door. your moans were muffled and your eyebrows furrowed. and just when his load shot onto his stomach, you decided to insert your fingers.

your beautiful fingers appeared and then disappeared into your pretty hole, repeating the notion. your thighs were quivering, and you tried to take it slow.

you pushed your hips to your fingers, and he could swear you were putting on a little show, by the way you were putting on an adorable face. his panting heaved and he was sitting there in the aftermath of his climax.

you stood up on shaky legs, and managed to position yourself at the round bed post that looked like a doorknob.

and fuck, if you hadn’t looked like an absolute beauty, you do now.

now he’s seeing you grinding against the bedpost, carefully rubbing your desperate pussy all over it, smearing your juices and rolling your hips. you let out quiet whines and kept riding the bedpost as if it were someone’s face.

you looked like a fucking doll. he couldn’t believe you were all dolled up in nail polish, make up and that goddamn skirt just to be fucked by a bedpost.

if it were up to him, you’d be tied up to that very same bedpost as he fucked deeply into you, feeling his cock protruding all the way into your belly. he’d roll his hips and let you feel every second of it, all while licking your tears away.

he couldn’t believe why you hadn’t gone to have a dorm at your campus. seeing how desperate you were, he was sure you'd let every college boy take you given the chance.

but no, instead you were fucking a goddamn bedpost, like a goddamn slut as your parents are busy doing whatever the fuck.

but before he had time to ponder, he spotted you nearing your orgasm and reached for his phone.

and lo and behold, just as you were about to burst, a ringing sound invaded your ears.

pretty tears of frustration graced your face as you so adorably punched your pillow. nonetheless, you pick up.

“hello?” you asked in a teary yet soft tone. god, he wanted to hear his name in that tone. to hear you praise his girth.

“hello, y/n…” a raspy voice came from the other line, and you couldn’t have looked more clueless.

your bottom lip was pouting, and your expression softened from frustration to confusion in a matter of mere seconds. he’d kill millions to bring you that same expression as you bounced on his cock, too confused for anything to make sense.

“who is this? and how do you know my name?” you asked, your pretty little heart beating out of your chest. you nervously resisted the urge to scream at him to answer quicker.

“So y/n is indeed your name…” he answered huskily, looking at you through narrowed eyes. he couldn’t help but let out a deep chuckle as you responded by chewing on your nails.

“now, don’t ruin that pretty red color,” he tsked playfully, basking in your expression of realisation. “such a pretty little thing, it would be a shame if something happened to you now, wouldn't it?"

“please, this isn’t funny,” you whine, quickly pulling down your skirt. “please tell me who you are!”

“you should see how scared you look right now, all by yourself in your cozy little room. It's quite the sight.” he interrupts, not bothering to answer your plea.

“please, why are you calling me?” you ask, tears in your eyes.

although you couldn’t see him, that didn’t stop him from mocking tapping on his chin a few times, smirking at your stupidity.

"why, because I wanted to talk to my favorite princess, of course!” he mockingly taunted. “it’s not everyday that I get to see you in such beautiful clothes. all dolled up and ready.”

“ready for what?” you asked softly, to which he let out only an incredulous laugh.

“baby, are you this stupid?” he laughs, his deep modulated voice booming. “how am I supposed to come over and fuck you senseless if you already don’t have any in your pretty little head?”

your breathing hitched, but you felt your pussy purring greedily.

“there she goes, already getting all wet and needy for a fucking voice on the phone,” he tsked, shaking his head. “does my pretty girl need something in her pussy?”

and there you go, abandoning all morals as you nod your dizzy head and calm yourself down. you haven’t spoken to your hook-up in three months and you absolutely need it. he knew you needed it. but do you know what’s happened to that little hook-up of yours?

“so, this is what you’re gonna do,” he starts bringing his lips closer to the voice modulator. “you’re going to open that window, and lie on your bed with your pretty legs spread. I need that pussy glistening for me, doll.”

you nod, desperately scrambling to open your window, and you eagerly spread it. you shiver slightly due to the cold air on your bare cunt.

and after 2 minutes, you ultimately see that infamous mask, staring right at you. his hands are gloved, something that turns you on.

his hands rubbed up and down your thighs, as if marinating a chicken. you looked up at him, and he tilted his head to the side.

“you’re making it hard for me not to fuck you into oblivion when you keep gazing up so sweetly at me.” he spoke, his voice higher than on the phone, but nonetheless deep.

“then do it.” you smiled, to which his gloved hand rubbed your cheek and he laughed.

“too fucking adorable,” he chuckled, and let you nuzzle your head against his hand like a little kitten. “but you wouldn’t be able to handle it. as if I’m like the little boys you hang with.”

“they’re my age!” you protest, to which he quickly placed his thumb past your lips.

“keep sucking, sweet slut,” he cooed, his unoccupied hand freeing his cock.

you kept sucking on the thumb, swirling your tongue around the fingertip and before you know it, it was being pulled out of your mouth with saliva connecting. and to your surprised, he guided the tip of his cock to your plump lips, rubbing against it.

“open up, sweetheart. m’gonna keep you real quiet. don’t want your parents to hear you getting fucked, do you?” he asked in fake sympathy, holding you by the throat.

you shook your head, and quickly opened up your lips, allowing your wetness enveloping his thick meat. it disappeared past your soft lips, and you found your mouth drooling from the edges, your spit tracing a vein on the underside.

“there we go…” he murmured sickeningly, moving your head and pushing his hips. “that’s my sweet girl.”

you whine at his praise, the pulsations felt by his cock. he let out a grunt and you bobbed your face, almost choking on it.

he smiled, brushing away the hair sticking to your sweaty forehead. your tongue was swirling around the base, and you feel your hair being pulled into a ponytail.

he tugged at the ponytail whenever he wanted another whine out of you, and you claw at his thighs, wanting so desperately to deep throat him.

“fuck, are you getting all worked up for me, baby?” he asks, thrusting into your mouth. “my pretty baby, my prettiest girl.”

you couldn’t do anything but nod as beautiful tears streamed down your cheeks. your eyes were red, and your lips swollen to perfection. his hands tangled through your hair, intentionally messing it up. his chest heaved as you kept sucking and your hands rubbed up and down his thighs.

and before you could make him cum, he pulled you off him by the hair and threw you to the bed.

you sat up by your elbows as he crawled over you, taking off his mask and having his nose brush against his.

his lips planted traces on your jaw, and you wrapped your legs around him pulling him closer to you.

“does my girl have no patience?” he asks, kissing down her face, to her neck. “I guess I can’t wait either. not while you taste so sweet.”

he flips over, and has you straddling him. he slightly pushes his hips up as if you were sitting on a horse from a merry-go-round. you smiled, gripping onto his shoulders.

“come on, my sweet, you know what you need to do,” he said, a smug smile on his lips. you took the hint and quickly lowered your pussy onto his face.

you wanted to lift yourself a bit, afraid to suffocate him, but he wouldn’t even use his tongue unless you fully sat on his face. you obliged, of course, your throbbing clit soothed by the feeling of his tongue connecting to your juices, eventually slurping it up.

“a-ah, n-need you…” you moaned, grinding against his face. his nose, combined with the sensation of his tongue made your thighs shake.

“need me to do what, baby? I’m already eating this sweet pussy up.” he cooed, before pushing you back down on him. “use your pretty little mouth.”

“f-fast…” you continued, grinding against his nose and face.

“oh, that’s it, baby?” he mockingly murmured, lifting you again from him, and you already missed the sensation. “is that all your pretty little lips could muster?”

you nodded, and before you could open your mouth again, he pushed you back down, his tongue penetrating your pussy. you moaned and moaned as he grunted, the vibrations of his voice felt by your pussy.

you gripped the headboard, rolling your hips as if you were riding a horse. if his eyes were open, he might have been able to see your perky breasts bouncing and occasionally rubbing against the headboard. his face was covered by your skirt and you looked like a college girl with her boyfriend.

“f-fuck, I’m going to…” you blabber, to which he speeds up his ministrations.

and just when you were about to burst your cum onto his beautiful face, he stopped. and the tears of frustration kept streaming down.

“oh, calm the fuck down, dollface,” he said, chuckling and rolling his eyes. “I’m giving you my dick, and then we’ll both cum, does that register in your dumb little head?”

[ja3hwa]

❝𝐇𝐲𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐝!𝐎𝐭𝟖 𝐖𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐓𝐨 𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝❞

【sʏɴᴏᴘsɪs】 : Hybrid!Ateez wants to breed their mate in order to start a family.

『ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ』 : 1.26k

-> ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: Smut, Suggestive, Fluff, Angst.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: Ateez Hybrid Members x Hybrid Bunny Readers

[ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs] : mention of a nest. Hints of car sex. Hints of bathroom sex. Seonghwa is a sucker for cockwarming. Yeosang just wants to see you full with his um...cum... Swearing. Sans reaction is a little bit more angsty. Woops. Accidental pregnancy. Getting pregnant out of spite. Some shitty talking about shitty family.

Note : I hope you enjoy this request. And also to the lovely darling that sent in the request, I hope it's okay that i made it more on the line of family rather than just a breeding kink. I was feeling sappy, ahaha.

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𝐇𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐣𝐨𝐨𝐧𝐠 - 𝐇𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐞

Hongjoong always knew he wanted kids the moment he became a leader. His dream was to be labelled a strong leader and have a powerful son or daughter to prove it. So when one of your heats came around, he was surprised and also glad it was during his mating season. And from what he was told when a bonded pair was going into heat at the same time, it meant perfect breeding time. And he was going to make the most of this situation. Pampering you, making you comfortable in your nest before using his strength to completely ruin you in the soft sheets over and over again until you were nice and full of his knot.

“You’re going to look so beautiful carrying around our foals, baby. Like the goddess you are.”

𝐒𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐰𝐚 - 𝐒𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐞

Hwa is another hybrid who grew up dreaming of the idea of having his own little ones running around. He had to have four since it was the perfect number, but he also wouldn’t be mad if he had more. His parents were also thrilled with the idea of having gran-babies, so after you and Seonghwa got married, he planned to make your honeymoon full of nothing but babymaking. The wasn’t a time when Seonghwa wasn’t dotting on you, romantic dinner ended up fucking in the car on the way to the hotel. Bath time resulted in water going everywhere as he trusted harsher into you. And when you were going to sleep he made sure to keep you laying on his cock. His words were;

 “if my cock stays inside you, none of my cum will leak out and it will give us more chance of you getting pregnant”

𝐘𝐞𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐠 - 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐫

Now, it wasn’t cause Yeosang wanted kids, but it was just the idea of you being pregnant that made him so goddamn hard. Cause little did you know, he had a big breeding kink, the idea of claiming you in more than one way made his heart skip, and his cock so hard it aches. He overheard you the other day about wanting kids and you weren't if it was even possible, your human friends had said it should work but maybe asking Yeosang for guidance, but you were worried he wouldn’t want kids. Oh boy, you were very wrong. He was going to make sure he pumped his kids into you if it was the last thing he could do. He had you crying out while holding onto his antler for support, his grunts filling the bedroom when he saw your fucked out expression.

“That's it Doll, feel my cock raw inside you. I’m gonna—fuck—breed you so well all you’ll feel is my cum dripping down your thighs. Take it, it’s yours.'

𝐘𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 - 𝐆𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐧 𝐑𝐞𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫

This tall, gentle giant actually never thought about kids. It was you that wanted them, and whatever his little bunny wants, will get. The fact that when you asked him, he was like ‘Okay what about now?’ and got straight to it, stripping you bare before fucking the life outta you. In the best way of course. His lips painted your skin and his knot was buried deep inside you, you would feel it when he placed your hand against your tummy. The more he fucked you, the more he realized, seeing you plump and pregnant would be the best thing he could ever witness. Just waddling around, carrying his child, glowing from motherhood, argh, he swore he never got harder until now.

‘I’m gonna fuck so many babies into you, darling. Keep you nice and plump. Fuck I’m gonna cum baby, let me pump my load into you. All of it for you.’ he was a rambling mess at that point.

𝐌𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐢 - 𝐆𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐞𝐚𝐫

This big beefy body was all over your the moment you agreed to have kids. He had been begging to feel you raw for the past month, and you kept declining the big bear because you feared about being a mother, or in this case, failing as one. But he reassured you that you would be the greatest mother, you were already so good at looking after his younger friends and him for that matter that he could bet his life on you being suited for motherhood. 

‘I can’t wait to meet our baby, I bet they will look just as beautiful as their mama.’

𝐒𝐚𝐧 - 𝐒𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐭

This mischievous feline loved kids and loved you. So, putting the two together was just a perfect idea in his mind. So when he started begging, you were reluctant at first. You were both still young, and the idea of children wasn’t something on your mind. You loved San, yes. But having kids with him was something you didn’t see at that current moment in your life. It wasn’t until you caught him literally crying on the phone to one of his friends. He was thinking he was the problem and you didn’t want kids because he was a different type of hybrid to you. But he couldn’t see far from the truth. In truth, you were scared. You had to step in and interrupt the call, not caring if his friend heard you. You immediately apologized to him and pleaded for him to stop crying. You repeated over and over that one day you would be happy to have kids with him, but for now, while you are both young, to live your lives.

‘I’m sorry Sannie. You are not the problem, and you never will be the problem.’

𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐅𝐨𝐱

So you both didn’t really care for the idea of having kids. If they happened one day, neither of you wouldn’t be mad. But what you didn’t expect was it to be by accident. When you missed the first two days of your period you at first didn’t think much of it, but day by day your worry worsened and now it had been 2 weeks late with you sitting on the floor of the bathroom with a positive pregnant test in your hand. Not including the three sitting on the counter, all positive as well. You were about to call Wooyoung telling him to get home quickly, but as if the gods were on your side that evening, you hear a click of the bedroom door handle.

He called out looking for you, and you told him you were in the bathroom. When he came inside, he immediately noticed the tests on the counter. A large gulp fell down his throat as he let out a half-assed chuckle while rubbing the back of his neck.

‘Uh…Woops’

𝐉𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐡𝐨 - 𝐏𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫

You and Jongho were already excepting your first baby the moment after your honeymoon. You both had planned from the fourth year of dating that you wanted to try and conceive a child on your honeymoon. But it was not just for the fact you both wanted a family, no. It was also to prove to your families that you were better off without them. They never accepted your mixed species relationship, and the idea of you two having a baby together honestly scared them. The idea of an abomination being created by the two of you made them sick. So, of course, Jongho was going to pump as many kids into you as he possibly could. Heck, maybe four or five if he was lucky. He wanted a family, he wanted one with you. So if that means making some, then so be it.

‘you look so beautiful carrying our cubs my darling. You are going to be the best mother ever.’

-♥︎

[onyx-syn]

How LA! Buggy and LA! Mihawk would react to you wearing Lingerie Headcanons

Warnings: Spicy, Lingerie, Flirting, and Talks of sex

*Don't steal my writings and claim it as your own*

*18+ Only*

A/N: Okay okay okay- I know I keep dragging on the fics I've been working on due to work but it will be posted soon🥺❤️

Buggy

🌹He never expects you to wear lingerie as he himself has never expected to be with someone, especially in a committed relationship. Yes he would make a flirtatious/outward comment to those he was attracted to, but for the same attention to be directed towards him was unexpected to say the least

🌹How he would get annoyed at being flirted with even with the slightest bit of a comment would make him into an annoyed flustered, claiming aloud he wasn't but that wouldn't stop the smile from appearing on his lips

🌹so imagine his absolute delight surprise when his creek eyes were greeted by an amazing sight of his partner wearing a lingerie set

🌹Buggy would have a devilish smile plastered across his cheeks, giggling in a euphoric sense as he saw you enter your twos room wearing such a lewd outfit

- "Well, well, well~" Buggy spoke, his voice low as his eyes set on you, the 'beauty of the ball' he would call you to others. Your body in a beautiful delicate fabric of clothing, clenched to your skin, showing off so much yet so little. Buggy's body laid comfortable on the bed of your bedroom, sitting straight up as he gestured you to walk over. Once you walked over to him, the man -feared by many across the East Blue Sea- would be on his knees in front of you.

His gloved hands grasping at the skin of your thighs, moving up and down slowly, pinching lightly. He would be staring up right at you, taking in all the glory and beauty of you standing like a god/goddess in his presence. He spoke, his red stained lips pressing onto your exposed skin of your thighs or hips, kissing them.

"You're so beautiful doll, looking like a true performer for the show. My show~" He stated, his heart racing at a million miles per hour, almost couldn't stand seeing you in such a state as it brought a sensational feeling to him he never knew he needed to see.

"Trying to get me a private show now huh?~" As he continued to speak, his hands reached further up your sides, grazing your hips, feeling how the switch from your delicate skin to the sheer fabric of clothing and how tight it was against your skin. It was a small change, but oh boy did it do something to him.

People were afraid of a man, seeing the act he would put off in an open setting. Whenever we would perform a show, he was seen as a 'freak of nature', a danger to society which made people across the seas to fear him. Not just as a man, but as a pirate.

But here, here it was different.

Here in the privates and comforts of his quarters, he could enjoy the quiet piece of time and admire the beauty that he has which was you. If people were to see him now, begging for the touch of his lover, begging for him to touch and grasp at the skin concealed away from him, begging to love and appreciate how stunning you appeared in the clothing, they wouldn't believe it.

His breathing hitched, gulping as he struggled to remained composed. "Goddamn this outfit you got is gonna be the death of me sweetcheeks~"

🌹After his first greeting with the idea and concept of you wearing lingerie, he was in love with it. He loved to see you beautiful skin tightly clenched to the piece of clothing. His eyes being memorized how how your skin would pudge over clothing with how tight it was to your body, especially in your hip to thigh regions. He loved the way your body was framed from down below, wanting nothing more but to grasp and grope that certain area of yours

🌹Whenever he would go on his raids and pillaging of towns, he would sneakily steal sets and all different kinds of pairs of lingerie he could find. He put them in a special case of beg to know which ones he would give to his 'freaks' and which ones he would give to his 'freakshow~' He would also purposely steal the ones he knows you would enjoy and feel the most comfortable wearing. Yes he was a cruel man that destroyed many towns, but he had deep care and love for what his beloved would wear in bed alright?

🌹He will have you perform little catwalks for him in your bedroom, putting on a little show for you two to witness as you would try on each pair of lingerie he stole for you, both of you critiquing each one. Buggy more so as in a sense of which ones would be the most easiest to rip off of you and fuck you, and which ones he wanted you to wear longer as you rode him

🌹He has so many favorites he loves to see you in its hard to pick. But if he had to choose, his favorite set of lingerie that he loved to see doused over you figure is babydolls with suspender belts, while yes, did conceal your body away in a flowly form, was still see through so he could see your bare skin. Watching you twirl around in the short dress of a lingerie, watching it flow in the wind, lifting up just enough for your hips and ass to be exposed to him brought an immense sense of joy to him you wouldn't believe, as well as how tight the belts clenched to your thighs and legs, he loved it all

Mihawk

🌹Mihawk, as well as Buggy, never expected or really saw himself to be in a relationship. With his line of work, he would much rather prefer having quick stands or dated than committing. Yet, here he was with you, and behind the 'act' he would put on -as you would call it- he truly loved you with everything his heart could give

🌹Sometimes it was difficult to truly know what his expression would be sometimes, most of the time he was serious or had somewhat of a nonchalant look to him

🌹but the moment you appeared with your body graced with the fabric and figure of a lingerie set into your bedroom together, his eyes were all on you

🌹At first, you couldn't tell what his expression exactly was, his face seamlessly being unaffected by it, yet his eyes told a different story. The golden orbs of his siren eyes were swirling in a bit of lust and hunger. A ravenish feeling of wanting to tear the article of clothing off your body and fuck you senselessly

-Mihawk's golden eyes stared as you walked into the bedroom, a piece of lewd fabric covering your once exposed skin off from him. A visible emotion of curiosity emitted from your aura, worried about what his reaction would be at your new article of clothing, seeing as he has said nothing or moved from his spot since you walked in, only staring.

As the moment between you two fell into a thick pit of silence in the air, you could see the look in Mihawk's eyes become more... Hungry. His eyes glaring deep into you, you could feel the emotion he was giving you, feeling as if his eyes were tearing off each inch of stitched fabric off of your body, seeing you fully exposed to him.

But, another side of him loved the way your body wore the lingerie, seeing as it clenched onto your body nicely for him to witness for his eyes only. He sat back against his seat in the corner of the room, near his desk, his finger tips were collapsed together in his lap before he raised one hand up, gesturing with one finger for you to come over to him. Now.

When you strutted over, noticing how Mihawk's eyes were glued to the way your hips swayed in the outfit. He made you stop right before him. Your eyes watched as he moved his weight in the chair, seeing the formation of a bulge in his trousers. He made no noise, however, keeping a contained composure as he ordered you to turn around for him with just a twirl of his finger.

You did so, slowly twirling around, showing off the lingerie in its full glory right in front of you. You stopped back into place as you started before, waiting for Mihawk to speak to you. Instead, he didn't say anything, his golden orbs looked you up and down slowly again. You feel back into another pit of silence until-

"Marvelous~" He spoke, underneath his breath but loud enough for you to hear.

He sat up from his chair, standing in front of you. His colossal hands trailing down the sides of your body, feeling the fabric and what skin was left exposed before he griped your one leg and moved it upwards against his hip/waist, his hand underneath your thigh gripping it tightly.

"Absolutely marvelous, my darling~"

🌹Mihawk is a classy, yet naughty man, underneath all the serious attitude he had put on for his work and life style. He adored the way your body would wear the lewd pieces of clothing, loving every second the way your body moved across the room just for him to watch and admire

🌹Mihawk was and still is a mysterious man, whenever he would be away on 'trips' or so you call them for the vice admiral, you would awaken to a box or two with special engravings with your name and patterns on them. When you opened them up, your eyes would be greeted with the sight of different sets and pairs of lingerie. You felt the heat and intensity rise from your neck to your cheeks once you realized these weren't just any ordinary lingerie either, they were quiet expensive

🌹He loved how much the lingerie would make your figure be more prominent, showing all your perfections cause in his mind you had no imperfections, everyone's body had their own flaws, but no matter what you were beautiful just the way you were. He wanted to see all your flaws, and seeing them in such a sinful piece of clothing sent excitement down to his groins. He would have you show off the new set of lingerie in all angels, front, back etc, by making you sit on his thighs/lap and show him yourself~

🌹Unlike Buggy, Mihawk actually does have a favorite. But His favorite article of lingerie of you to wear is basque/corset ones with the thin belts attached to the hip down to mid thigh drew him nuts. He was memorized with the way it constricted your body, along with the beautiful fabric markings it had along the sheer sides of it. He admire the conceal mystery, how some of your body was exposed through the shear fabric while the other half wasn't. Only gives him more of a reason to take it off of you and rail you, well, depends on the night, sometimes he would fuck you with it on

[brotherwtf]

I should be working but instead my every thought is consumed by these tragic little gay men! All seriousness though would really love some Gale riding John, John looking worshipfully up at him promising to give him whatever he needs, “everything, anything don’t stop baby” style… I just feel service top/topping from the bottom John in my SOUL. Of course Gale is an incoherent, pleasure chasing mess to match. I just want them desperate, messy, and deeply obsessed with each other. Please and thank you!

me every goddamn day I will never be free from their fuckery

and ANON??? THIS IS A BEAUTIFUL AND WONDERFUL PROMPT OMG IM FERAL IM BITING THINGS

----

"Fuck, FUCK, Gale you're so fucking pretty, God you're so fucking pretty," John whines and Gale knows he gone.

He pushes John down to the bed, hands on his shoulders as he grinds back onto his cock, squeezing his eyes shut as he moans open mouthed. From this position with John's hair fanned out on the bed, he looks even more pathetic than usual.

"Yeah? You like that baby? You like when I take control? Fuck, God John you feel so good," Gale groans, uses John's shoulders as leverage to push back onto his cock, looking back over his shoulder to see John desperately rutting his hips up into him, trying to get any sort of pleasure from him.

Gale can barely think, but the glazed over look of John's eyes proves that Johns not much better, hands messily finding Gale's ass to aid in pushing him back down, lube messy and loud from how messily John fucked into Gale's hole. It's so wet, so hot, so good, and Gale's loopy with it.

"Fuck, you're so good for me, you're so fucking good. All mine, huh? Your cocks all mine," Gale says, grinding down even harder, thighs clenching from the pressure.

John looks like a man in worship, mouth lolled open and eyes trained on Gale's, nodding desperately to the words, biting his lip as he moans at Gale's new speed. It's fast, fast and good, and Gale's going delirious with it.

"Yes, yes, all yours. Don't stop, baby, please don't stop," John begs and Gale hangs his head, moaning in tandem with John now.

Gale moans when John messily thrusts up, reaching even deeper than when Gale was only grinding. It's so good, it's so fucking good, and Gale's so close.

"I'm close, John, please, give it to me, give it to me John," Gale whimpers and John whines alongside him, hands moving up to grip his waist, fingertips spanning across his lower back.

"Anything, everything, doll, fuck I'm close too," John groans, throwing his head back to expose his neck.

Gale can't help himself from bending over, more collapsing than anything, and placing a wet kiss on John's neck, licking and sucking as John thrusts messily up into him. He moans continuously, hands gripping on John's shoulders as he shudders through his orgasm, come spilling between where their stomachs are pressed together.

John keeps fucking into him, though, something brutal and desperate and Gale can't help the embarrassing sounds that spill from his mouth, high pitched and pathetic as John just won't let up, won't stop fucking him. It's too much, it's almost too much.

John finally comes with a prolonged groan, hands gripping even tighter on Gale's waist until it's almost bruising, body tense and tight before he melts into the sheets, throwing his head back as he groans in pleasure.

"Good, huh? Sweet boy," Gale mutters, pushing a stray lock from John's forehead and pressing a gentle kiss to it, smiling when John still hasn't said anything snarky or stupid in return.

"God, Gale, I'm so fucking lucky to have you," John says and doesn't give Gale a chance to speak before he wraps his arms around Gales shoulders and pulls him in for a sweet kiss.

[cowgurrrl]

Tall Boy

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader

Author's note: I didn't go into writing this thinking I would write a little bit of spice so please be nice (poetry fr)

Summary: Fireworks, Uber Calls, Confessions, Oh My! [3.6k]

Warnings: consumption of alcohol, drunken shenanigans, Joel and Tommy being the only Texan men I would trust with my drinks, so much goddamn yearning, oh what's happening with Andie and Tommy??, Joel the Menace makes his return, smutty thoughts and actions (I've made them wait nine chapters they deserve to be a little horny. as a Treat.), getting caught, preparing you for Sleeping on the Blacktop

You don't get to cut loose very often as a teacher. You're almost always worried about lesson plans, grading, assignments, supplies, money (or lack thereof), politics, student's mental health, and a million other things that plague your mind when you try to sleep. Sure, you have a drink or two sometimes, but never anything close to like when you were in college and would end up back at your apartment at four in the morning just to get up three hours later for a lecture at eight. You weren't always going to be a high school teacher, and your past reflects that. And Andie has waited a long time to get a little bit of that spirit out of you again.

New Year's Eve starts easy enough with a nice dinner in downtown Austin with a glass of wine or two with the food. You and Andie got all dolled up in short, curve-hugging dresses and makeup and decided you would take yourselves out if nobody else was going to. "But we're not gonna get arrested like we did in high school, right?" You asked over dinner, but she just shrugged with a mischievous look in her eyes.

"We'll see where the night takes us." 

You bounced from bar to bar, sipping drinks and half-flirting with whoever approached, hoping for a free drink. Lucky for you, nobody is immune to Andie's charm. You lose track of how much you've had to drink once the room starts spinning pleasantly, and you can barely hear yourself over the loud music. You dance with beautiful strangers, sing along to the music, and even steal a cigarette from a willing accomplice outside. It feels good to act like your own age and not everybody's mom. 

By the time midnight rolls around for the Central Time Zone, you and Andie are drunk, leaning on each other and butchering the lyrics to Aud Lang Syne. "We should call an Uber!" Andie yells in your ear, and you nod. You stumble outside and squint at your phone, giggling at your fleeting thought.

"I've got a better idea than Uber."

You and Andie are sitting on the curb outside a gas station right off of Sixth Street, sharing a tall boy and following instructions to "stay put," when his truck pulls up next to you. Joel looks sleepy but not mad, while Tommy looks like he just walked up on a small miracle.

"I thought teachers weren't supposed to be fun!" He laughs as you hand Andie the beer and somehow get yourself to your feet.

"You, obviously, didn't have the right teachers." 

"I reckon so." He says as you dig your keys out of your purse to hand to Joel. He nods gratefully as Tommy helps Andie off the curb. They start talking about something, but you can't hear them over the way Joel's looking at you. Like he did at the gallery, his eyes linger on every piece of exposed skin he hadn't seen before. Something akin to worry clouds his vision, but you catch him looking at your legs and smack his chest. 

"Eyes up here, Mr. Miller," you call him out. "See somethin' you like?" You ask, and he chuckles at how southern you sound when you drink.

"You look very nice." He says, and you smile. For some reason, you step into him and rest your head on his shoulder. He's so warm, and you're tired and just drunk enough not to care about the rules. You feel him freeze for a moment before his hand comes up to your waist to help keep you upright. "Let's get you home, hm?" 

Andie refuses to leave Tommy's side now that they've gotten into an argument about the best musician of all time, and she decides to ride in your car with him while you climb into the truck with Joel. The second you're alone in the car with him, you just start laughing to yourself. Joel laughs a little, too, as he turns the ignition over. 

"What's so funny?" He asks, and you shake your head.

"Just you." You say, giggling a little more. 

"Me?" 

"Yeah, you."

"What about me?" 

"A few weeks ago, I thought I'd fucked you over, and now you're picking me up 'cause I got too drunk on New Year's Eve," it's not funny, but you laugh anyway. "You're a much better person than I am." You say. It's quiet in the truck as your words settle like dust on the dashboard. The only sound is the engine running and the distant sounds of fireworks popping in nearby neighborhoods. He takes a deep breath and rests a hand on your headrest to reach around in the backseat, producing his large jacket and pulling it over your body to protect you from the cold.

"I think you're a good person. Definitely a world better than me," he says as he puts the car in drive. "And, for what it's worth, you didn't fuck me over."

"No?" You ask, and he shakes his head, glancing at you as he pulls onto the road. 

"No." He says, and you hum. You pull his jacket closer to you and cling to the smell of pinewood, leather, and hints of his cologne. If they sold this smell in a candle, you would go into debt just to have it linger in every room. The thought presses on a bruise you forgot was there, and in your inebriated, vulnerable state, you can't stop yourself from staring at his profile as yellow streetlights and bursts of fireworks reflect across his face. 

You study him the way you've been dying to for months. Your eyes study how his eyebrows move with minute emotions and muscles. The way his big nose curves perfectly. The way his jaw clenches and unclenches when he's nervous or unsure what to say. You wish you had a piece of paper and a pencil to sketch his side profile as it comes into view between headlights. You don't believe in muses, but you believe in inspiration. Especially when you look at him.

"Thank you for comin' to get us. I know you'd rather be sleeping." You break the silence, and he nods. 

"I'd rather know you're safe than anythin' else," he says. "How much did you have to drink?"

"I don't know," you groan, absentmindedly rubbing at your face and no doubt smearing makeup. "People kept buying us drinks, and I'm so fucking broke, I'm not gonna say no to a free drink."

"People? What people?" He asks, his interest suddenly piqued. You shrug and put your feet up on the dash. He glances at them but doesn't shove them off. 

"I don't know. People. Men people." You say.

"Different men or the same guy?"

"Does it matter?"

"No," he says a little too quickly. "No, it doesn't matter. As long as you had fun." There's something off about his tone, but you can't place it. At least, not until he puts the final nail in his own coffin. "D'any of 'em try to get your number?" 

"Oh, my God!" You squeal excitedly as you sit up and put your feet back down. "Are you jealous?"

"No! Why would I be jealous? We're friends." 

"Yeah," you scoff. "'Friends.'" You say with intense finger quotes, and he furrows his brows as he looks at you. 

"Are we not friends?" 

"Joel, c'mon. I liked you from the second you walked into my classroom. We were never gonna be just friends." The confession comes loose before you can swallow it back down. It wiggles between you like a fish out of water, and you want to take it back. Not because it's not true but because you weren't ready to tell him. Things just got back to normal after the winter showcase. You're not ready to lose him again. 

"You're drunk," he says softly as if he's reminding himself more than anything. Maybe he thinks because you've been drinking, you don't mean it, but you do. You really, really do. It's too late to take it back, but you can try to bring levity back. You can try to backpedal a little. 

"You're drunk." You counter. He drives in silence for a few more miles, and the rumble of the car and the tequila weighing your mind down lull you to sleep— narrowly avoiding another hard conversation and worst-case scenarios.

You wake up on the first day of the new year hungover, sore, and in a bedroom you don't recognize. Bright sunshine bursts into the room and forces your eyes open in a squint. You almost jump up when you're greeted with a bottle of water and Tylenol on a nightstand that's not the white one on the right side of your bed. You sit up a little and look around at the cozy, if not a little cluttered, room.

The walls and the soft sheets are a nice, comforting blue. A few posters and pictures hang on the walls, and even a landscape painting hangs above the bed. Still, there's a little laundry strewn on the floor, and you recognize the closet full of flannel and button-up shirts next to you. You guess that's where your oversized, burnt orange Texas Longhorns shirt and black sweatpants came from. Snippets from the car ride and stumbling into the house fill your mind, and you groan in embarrassment. 

You remember Tommy calling Joel and telling him Andie got sick on the way to your apartment, and he didn't want to drop you off alone where something could go wrong. They offered to take you to their house, and in your drunk and stupid state, you said yes. You remember gentle hands holding your face as a cold, wet makeup wipe swiped across your skin, and thank God for that. Otherwise, you would feel worse than you already do. You remember hearing Andie and Tommy's voices outside the bedroom door, but you don't remember how you got into the room or the shirt. A light knock on the door pulls you out of your memories, and Joel walks in with a cup of coffee and a sympathetic smile.

"Good mornin', sunshine," he says, the right amount of mocking. "How're you feelin'?"

"Like I got hit by a truck." You say, and he laughs as he hands you the mug and sits on the bed. 

"I figured. I've got breakfast goin' downstairs. You need all the food you can get to soak up the alcohol." He says as you take a sip of the bitter coffee. You sigh into the cup at the (somehow) magical effects it has on your body, and he smiles. "That good, huh?"

"Yes, thank you," you say. "Thanks for everything. I know it probably wasn't fun trying to wrangle us last night."

"You weren't lyin' when you said how much trouble you and Andie got into together." He says. You think you could crawl into a hole and die at the embarrassing gaps in your memory.

"Oh, God. What happened?"

"Well, first of all, she wouldn't stop talkin' to you bout Tommy even though he was right there, but it was all good things. Then, you almost fell asleep on the couch after demanding’ Whataburger, and I had to carry you up the stairs. And then, Andie locked us in here and told us to figure our shit out."

"I'm gonna fucking kill her." 

"I'm pretty sure she almost fell asleep in the hallway waitin' us out. Tommy parked her in Sarah's room and slept on the floor in case she needed somethin'." He says. You knew the Miller men were kind and selfless, but this is a whole new level. You owe them a fruit basket or your kidney or something. You rub your temples and take another sip of coffee before taking two Tylenol. 

"And where did you sleep?" 

"You don't remember?" He asks, chuckling. At least he's not mad. If he was, you think you'd climb out the window and walk all the way home. "I tried to sleep on the floor, but every time I tried to lay down, you laid down next to me. You wouldn't even close your eyes unless I was next to you, so I built a little pillow wall and slept in bed." 

"Are you serious?" You ask, and he nods. You can vaguely recall getting into a hushed argument with him about kicking him out of his own bed and falling asleep against his chest, vindicated and content. You groan and bury your head in your hands. "Please tell me Ellie isn't here."

"She spent the night at Dina's house, none the wiser." He says. You almost say something about Ellie spending a lot of time with Dina recently, but keep your mouth shut. If something's going on, you doubt she wants her teacher to snitch on her to her dad.

"I'm so, so, so sorry, Joel."

"Don't be sorry. It was funny. I didn't know teachers partied so hard," he says, and you laugh a little. "Besides, it made me feel better knowin' you two were safe." You look up as he speaks and take a deep breath at how sweet he is. He smiles, and you scoot close enough to him to cuddle into his side. He welcomes you by tucking you under his arm and resting his head on yours. 

Your head is pounding, and your stomach is in knots, but the coffee and his presence help ground you. His hair is a little damp and smells like Ellie's shampoo. The thought of them sharing products makes you smile, and you rest a hand on his chest. Worn in, soft fabric cushioning your fingers as they rest over his heart. 

"Can we add this to our list of inappropriate secrets?" You ask quietly, and a puff of air leaves his nose in a laugh. He lifts his head from yours and looks down at you fondly. He doesn't look particularly well-rested, and you're sure that's your fault, but you also can't get over how beautiful he looks in the morning. His eyes are still heavy with sleep, his beard is a little unruly, and his shirt is crumpled, but the light streaming in makes his brown irises look amber and the grey in his hair silver. He's beautiful like this. He's beautiful all the time. 

"Course," he mumbles as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. His hand lingers on your jaw, fingers caressing your cheek, and your hand slides from his chest to his shoulder to keep him close. "D'you get a New Year's kiss, at least?" He asks. You purse your lips as you stretch your memory back.

"'M pretty sure I kissed Andie." 

"Nice." He says, too impressed, and you push at his shoulder. 

"What about you? You get a New Year's kiss?" You're walking the wrong side of the line, and you both know it. He smirks anyway.

"I was a little busy takin' care of these two drunks." 

"One time," you say. "I go out one time, and suddenly I'm a drunk." 

"That's all it takes." He shrugs, and you laugh.

"Apparently," you say. "Well, I'm sorry again. Didn't mean to ruin your chances of getting kissed." 

"Nah, you didn't."

"No?"

"No," he shakes his head as he leans in and kisses you, tilting your face up to him so he can control the angle. Two months. It's been two months since you last kissed Joel, and you can feel all sixty days of want in the searing kiss. He's not shy like he might've been in the past— waiting for you to make this first move— he's commanding and steals your breath out of your lungs when his tongue slides against yours. It's different, and so, so good. You wind your hand into his hair and lightly tug when his hands roam down your body and grab at your hips. You take the signal and throw a leg over his hips to straddle him, gasping when he presses into the small of your back and pushes you against him. 

Now, you're awake. Fuck the coffee.

You're dizzy when his mouth dips from your lips to your jaw, biting the sensitive skin there, and his hands wander below the fabric of your (his) shirt. His fingers are soft when they graze against your sides, skimming up your body until he squeezes your breasts. Both of you groan as you arch into his touch. He's barely touched you, and you're already soaked.

"Missed you." He whispers as his lips blaze a trail down your neck while his fingers lightly pinch your nipples. You grind your hips into his, desperately searching for friction, and he hisses like you hurt him. His hips canting up reassures you you didn't. "You gonna disappear on me again, sweetheart?" It doesn't come across as mean, but there's a new authority in his voice that you're not used to hearing. The dam isn't just broken. It's in fucking shambles at the bottom of the river. 

"'M not going anywhere." You breathe. "I promise." You think you mean it. You think you want to mean it. You think you're done caring about optics and what's "right." You want him, and based on the way the bulge in his sweatpants prods under you, he wants you too. He pulls away from your neck to kiss your lips again, wraps an arm around your back, and lays you on your back on the mattress. 

You tug at the back of his shirt and greedily let your hands roam over his chest and back when he throws it across the room. He's all broad shoulders and strong arms, and you can finally feel the muscles and warm skin you've thought about since way before that night in the bar. When his fingers trace patterns into your inner thighs, you moan into him and grip his forearm hard. "Joel, I need-"

"What? What d'you need, baby? Tell me." He asks, his fingers dancing closer and closer to where you want him. It'd be so easy for him to slip his hand under the waistband of your sweatpants and feel how desperate you are, but he hesitates. "C'mon, use your words."

"Fuck, I-" You start to say when the door creaks open.

"Joel, do you want— woah!" Tommy yells before you hear the door slam shut again and his feet rushing down the hallway, no doubt to tell Andie about what he just saw. Joel groans and buries his face in your neck, and it takes everything in you not to laugh. 

"I'm gonna fuckin' kill him." 

"I'll help you hide the body." 

"Finally!" Andie yells from downstairs, and this time, you do laugh. 

"They're never gonna let us hear the end of this, are they?" You ask. 

"Probably not," he says. He's unmoving over you, and you sigh as you kiss his cheek. He lets his body weight drop into you, and you play with his hair while he rests his head on your chest. His hands rest under your body and press you closer to him, smothering you together. His broad shoulders expand and contract with every breath, and you count them as you scratch his scalp. "I have to go get Ellie soon." He mumbles into your chest. 

"Then, we should probably go." You say. He groans and kisses your sternum before pushing onto his forearms. He kisses up your chest to your neck, forcing a shaky breath from you when he nibbles at your earlobe. 

"I want you in my bed all the time," he whispers in your ear, making you shiver. "Wearin' my clothes, makin' all those pretty sounds, not havin' to worry bout Tommy or anybody." His chest rumbles against yours as he speaks; all you can do is squirm under him. His fingers picking up their previous patterns don't help either. "Wanna feel you come over and over again. On my fingers. On my tongue. On my cock. Wanna make you feel so good." His middle finger rubs against your clothed pussy, and your nails dig into his shoulder as you try to suppress a surprised sound. You're so wet, you'd be surprised if he couldn't feel the damp spot on your underwear. "You gonna let me make you feel good, baby? Huh?" He bumps your nose with his, subtly asking for attention when all you can focus on are the lazy circles he's drawing over you. 

"Please." You whimper, but you're not sure what you're begging for.

"I know, I know," he murmurs. You know you can't get away with anything with Tommy and Andie waiting for you downstairs but you want him to make good on his promise. You want him. You have for so long it's burning you from the inside out. And yet, he pulls away from you with a smirk. "I'm gonna take all the time in the world with you next time." He says as he rolls off of you, and you're left lying there, shocked and flushed.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" You ask, sitting up, and he just shrugs as he pulls his shirt over his head. 

"I've gotta go get Ellie."

"Don't pull the Dad Card right now." You sound a little petulant, but honestly, you don't care. He worked you up to just walk away? This is cruel and unusual punishment. He presses his knee into the mattress and leans over you again, kissing you chastely.

"You'll have to get me back later." He says, and you sigh, shaking your head at the amused look in his eyes.

"I'm gonna make you wish you were dead."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

TAGLIST: @abbyhaslongshorts @kiwiharrykiwi @sumsworldz @myloveistoolittle @anavatazes @marantha @cosmoscoffeee @shyminnie07 @beezusvreeland @eddiemunsonsbedroom @harriedandharassed @doodlebob-mp3 @ignorethisplz2004 @buckyispunk @d1lf-loverrr @vee-bees-blog @moel-jiller @anoverwhelmingdin @casssiopeia

[hummingbee-o0o]

Armand Molloy's Vampirism Course for the Gifted

Apparently, Daniel is something of a vampiric prodigy.

He’s a very efficient and neat killer, sure, but that’s not it. It’s about The Gifts, or whatever. Well, one gift, for now, but Armand is so hopped up on it he’s going full Montessori on Daniel’s ass. He apparently wants to make up for being an absentee maker at the start there, and he’s determined to nurture Daniel’s talents.

It started a couple months ago, when Daniel casually set a shitty book on fire, and even he was surprised at how easily it came to him. Armand then said something weirdly erotic about his blood being inside Daniel, and the whole incident got them both so horny they repeatedly had sex about it for a week.

And now Armand is of the opinion that Daniel should try branching out into other gifts as well.

Except…

You know how some birds of prey will deliver a kill that’s still wriggling to their nest, so the young can learn to deal the killing blow? Yeah, that’s pretty much Armand’s teaching methodology.

Only it’s not about killing, because Daniel, disturbingly, never had problems in that department. No, this is much more complicated, and Daniel is kinda regretting watching that David Attenborough documentary with Armand last night, the one about the European golden eagles lifting entire-ass goats off cliffs, because he’s pretty sure that’s the bit that inspired Armand’s current teaching efforts.

There’s a cop standing in front of them, staring straight ahead with the creepy, vacant stare of an antique doll. They’re in the middle of an abandoned construction site, the kind that really ticks Daniel off, because the housing crisis is a real thing, but at least there’s nobody to see them; and if anybody comes along, well, Armand can do what he’s done to the cop.

Which brings Daniel back to his predicament.

“Come on, babe,” he tries. “Can’t we do it some other time? I’ll blow you if we go home right now.”

Armand laughs, beautiful like a goddamn midsummer night. “That’s a very tempting offer, beloved, but we both know you’ll do that anyway.”

Yeah, he’s got Daniel there.

“Try lifting one of his arms.”

“God, can’t we just drain him?”

“You just ate,” Armand reminds him, and that’s true, there’s even still some blood in the corner of Daniel’s mouth; he licks at it pensively, staring at the cop. “Go on.”

Thing is, Armand is really so fucking calculated. He’s orchestrated every detail here like the ultimate theatre kid he is: he knows that choosing a cop will remove any sympathy inhibitions Daniel may have otherwise had for a technically still-living subject, and he also knows the cop will trigger Daniel’s fight-or-flight responses, because you can take the boy out of the drug den, but you can’t take the junkie out of the old man.

The empty construction site, the open space and illusion of isolation, and the goddamn stretched-out t-shirt Armand is wearing, the one with a neckline that droops well past his collarbones, because he knows Daniel is weak with horniness when he puts that on.

(Look who’s bartering with desire now.)

“Fine,” Daniel finally breaks, as they both knew he would. “Fine. But don’t get disappointed if nothing happens.”

“You’re my Daniel. I could never be disappointed in you.”

Well, shit, and then he goes and says stuff like that. And he means it too, it’s right there in his eyes. Daniel doesn’t know what to do with him, other than love him.

-

(continue reading on AO3)

[monimccoythings]

Classy Turtle

Okay, here’s part 2. Second parts were never good but I was dying to make this one. Just the mental image of it. Been watching the critics reviews of this glorious movie and every single one I’ve read are just terrible reviews of movies the audience absolutely adored (it’s the freaking Super Mario Movie, it doesn’t have to be the new Godfather) And those people who want to cancel Bowser, the villain of the Mario saga, for acting like a villain and singing a villain song that slaps? Are they okay? Don’t they get the basic concepts of villainy?

Previous Parts: 1

Next Parts: 3,4,5

tags: @loveforfandomsstuff​ @harpy-space​

You kept coming back to the palace to visit whenever you had the time. You really enjoyed spending time with your new friends and learning more about the Mushroom Kingdom. It’s like everyday there was some new adventure!

You also met the famous fearless Toad who had accompanied Peach and Mario throughout their dangerous journey to the Kong Kingdom and were lucky enough to eat one of his even more famous meals. You weren’t sure you had tasted something so divine in your entire life, goddamn it, Toad, drop the secret recipe book.

But if there was also a not entirely malicious ulterior motive for your visits, it would probably be your endearing wittle piano playing turtle that on his free time commited war crimes. It’s not like you were obsessed (liar), you just found yourself completely enamoured by the concept of some tiny musical tot that spoke highly of himself in a high pitched voice.

You were no fool. You knew he was dangerous and that given the chance, he would commit all those atrocities again. But he was SO LITTLE AND CUTE NOW. You just have to be careful with your gushing. The least you wanted is to cause the literal Third World War over a turtle.

It became an habit of yours to bring some gifts for everyone of your friends whenever you came to visit, and that included him, be it a tiny chair from an old house, a Ken doll, that always ended with his head chewed off, some lettuce (or whatever this turtle ate)...

Presenting him your offerings always was a tricky task. Peach and the bros had kindly drawn a perimeter around his cage that was called the “no-no zone”. Anyone that dared to cross that line, would meet their untimely end at the hands of a flame with the burning power of some kid using an aerosol flamethrower. Maybe it was a bit dramatic but he nearly burnt part of your hair last time so better not risk it, as he was an amgery firey boi. Unfortunately for him, you had put your wicked mind to use and had developed a system that didn’t put your hair or any part of your body in danger of suffering third degree burns. You called it “The Salad Tongs Solution”.

You had decided to use them instead of sticking to the classic put them in while he sleeps. Next time you tried to put a blankie over him when he slept he got scared so badly he went inside his shell and started spinning against the walls of the cages like some deadly top toy. Never again. Poor baby needed his beauty sleep.

So today, you were bringing in a special gift. After some rumaging through your old toys, you found some old tuxedo from one onf your dolls, you didn’t remember which one. But hey, maybe he would like this one?

Welp, he didn’t. As much as Mario would have loved to see him in it, nope, this turtle had expensive tastes and apparently this old tuxedo wasn’t up to his standards. Awww, classy turtle. The high pitched voice just made his rant look like an angry smurf that swore like a sailor. It was so adorable, you were not even bothered he didn’t like it. “It’s okay sweet baby!” You cooed to him. 

Bowser was bewildered at your audacity, your nerve! How dare you not praise him like the feared warlord he is! This will not stand! He will get out, and when he gets out the world shall get a taste of his revenge! You will bow to him in reverence! You will- oh, there you go again, looking at him with that dopey smile and those adoring eyes. Disgusting. Embarrassing. He is NOT a cutie patootie, thank you very much. He is KING OF THE KOOPAS, the strongest and baddest there is! That’s why you should look at him adoringly! Not because he is burger shaped!

A couple of days later Luigi sent a message with a photo attached to the groupchat. Opening it was the best decision in your life: there he was, your little buddy dressed in the tuxedo with the most disgruntled face he could make and being held with the salad tongs. A warm feeling spread through your chest, and for the rest of the day a huge smile was plastered on your face. He was such a dapper little gentleman.

[themculibrary]

1940's Masterlist

a mother always knows (ao3) - readergirl1013 steve/bucky T, 16k

Summary: Winifred nods, a small knot of fear wending its way into her heart. He’s so…fixated on the Rogers boy. She swallows around the lump in her throat. Bucky is a good boy from an upstanding Christian family. He’s not like that. It isn’t possible - they’re raising him properly.

He’s just a confused little boy. He likes sports, and playing soldiers and cowboys with the other boys. He says all his prayers, memorized the Pater Noster, Ave Maria, and Gloria Patri, and he goes to catechism twice a week. And he’s bright, good with numbers like his father. He doesn’t try to play with his sisters’ dolls or dresses. He isn’t one of them. He can’t be.

Five times Winifred Barnes suspected her son was one of those sort, one time she knew for sure, and one more time.

a soldier and his fella (ao3) - Gbookworm1737 bucky/tony, peggy/steve M, 16k

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Bucky returns home to after nearly two years of separation from his darling fella Tony. Pleased to have his mate back in his arms and a roof over his head, Bucky is weary to discover that the remnants of war still lingers in his mind. What follows is a tumultuous few months in the harsh winters in Brooklyn and restless nights consisting of nightmares and conflict that pushes Tony and Bucky’s newfound relationship.

christmas eve (ao3) - NotEvenCloseToStraight bucky/tony, peggy/steve M, 10k

Summary: The night before he is shipped out overseas to the war, Alpha!Bucky and finds his soulmate in a night club downtown.

Omega!Tony knows the risks of falling in love with a soldier, but he gives Bucky his heart anyway, then kisses his mate goodbye the next morning with a promise to be waiting every Christmas Eve for Bucky to come home.

The war stretches long and after Bucky is hurt on a mission he returns home to the States not sure if his mate will even still want him.

But it’s Christmas Eve again and Tony has been waiting a long time for his soldier… and this year the Omega has another surprise.

Civilized Society (ao3) - kehinki steve/bucky T, 7k

Summary: Steve didn't want an alpha.

Demobilization (ao3) - 743ish steve/bucky E, 41k

Summary: When the Statue of Liberty slides into view, the whole ship roars. It’s deafening. Bucky throws his fist in the air and yells along with everyone else. His heart is in his throat. The Statue of goddamn Liberty. Bucky wants to climb up her robe and kiss her sour green face.

------

In 1945, Bucky comes home from the war.

Faith (ao3) - indiefic peggy/steve M, 7k (WIP)

Summary: Due to circumstances unknown, Peggy finds herself in a world where Schmidt never existed, Erskine was killed before the start of the war, and there was no Project Rebirth. She's convinced she's entered one of the rings of hell until she stumbles across someone with a familiar face.

His Girl (ao3) - Blondie2000 peggy/steve T, 2k

Summary: Set during Endgame. Steve chose to be with Peggy. How will she react to seeing Captain America back from the dead? And does she want to spend the rest of her life with him?

it don’t mean a thing (ao3) - Just_Bill bucky/tony M, 10k

Summary: Bucky didn’t expect much more than a good salary and a hot meal when working the Stark gala. What he found was the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. Unfortunately they live in a time where love between men is dangerous and forbidden, and the world is at war.

i was made to love you, darling (ao3) - MacksDramaticShenanigans steve/bucky G, 4k

Summary: The handprint is stark against Steve’s pale, almost translucent skin. It’s big, too, all five fingerprints wrapping around the entirety of his thin upper arm. Steve twists in front of the grimy mirror, holding his arm out at an awkward angle. He bites down on his lower lip and lifts a hand to carefully brush his long fingers over the black smudges.

His skin is buzzing, but it’s not from the marks. Nothing has happened with them since he woke up, there are no new colors dancing across his skin where they were, and he doesn’t expect there to be. Steve doesn’t know if he ever expects there to be, which is part of why he’s buzzing. Too much nervous energy coursing through his veins. He may have finally reached eighteen, but that doesn’t guarantee that he’ll ever actually find his soulmate. Or that he even has one.

Look to the Past to Find Your Future (ao3) - Stuckonstuckony (adoctoraday) bucky/steve/tony E, 46k

Summary: Tony takes a detour to the 40’s after defeating Thanos thinking it’ll just be a quick stop before returning to the future. And then he runs into Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes and everything changes.

Malfunctioning Time (ao3) - Kiragirl17 steve/tony, bucky/tony T, 245k

Summary: FemiTony. Time travel. Eventual Steve/Toni. With some Bucky/Toni thrown in there

Trying to forget that today was March 15 and trying to escape the long lecture from Rogers, Toni locks herself in her lab to work on a new project; however, she never expects her unfinished device to misfire and send her back to the sexist 1940's.

Now, completely alone with no resources whatsoever, Toni finds herself struggling to survive on her own, especially when she discovers she's being followed. Unsure of who it is and what they want, she struggles to keep them at bay. To make matters worse, she finds herself on Colonel Phillips' radar. However the worst of it, she has to deal with her Egoist Father, who doesn't get the picture and won't leave her the hell alone.

What a woman to do?

of all the gin joints (ao3) - dracusfyre bucky/tony T, 3k

Summary: Bucky feels like he’s crashing and burning while Steve is soaring like a goddamn all-American bald eagle or something. But as Steve walks off with Agent Carter and leaves Bucky to drink alone, a mysterious stranger decides he wants to kiss him and make it all better.

our beginning (ao3) - ohstars steve/bucky T, 167k

Summary: Set in the twentieth century, this is the story of Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. Before they became Captain America and the Winter Solider. Before the war. Before the world put all of its weight on their shoulders.

Just two kids trying to get by in the world, and falling in love along the way.

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes (ao3) - SmolderingFlame steve/bucky E, 90k

Summary: Steve Rogers is the most dangerous man in Brooklyn. Bucky Barnes is the son of an abusive drunk who needs to pay off a serious gambling debt. Just so happens Steve has a thing for pretty brunettes with feisty attitudes.

there's nothing left of you (ao3) - notallbees steve/bucky, peggy/steve, bucky/omc E, 22k

Summary: Bucky’s having a hard time reconciling Captain America with the friend he left behind in Brooklyn. It’s bad enough that every time he closes his eyes he sees the inside of a torture chamber. Now, every time he opens them again, he sees a stranger with Steve Rogers’ eyes and smile.

The Size of Perfection (ao3) - Phoenike steve/bucky E, 31k

Summary: The serum enhances Steve’s physical attributes to peak condition. All of them. Unfortunately, ‘enhanced’ doesn’t necessarily mean ‘optimal’ or ‘something that a fella wishes to show the girl of his dreams on their wedding night.’

Through The Open Window (ao3) - 74days steve/bucky E, 28k

Summary: Steve Rogers gave up on joining the army and worked for Stark Industries writing policy letters by hand. It's a dull job, right up until the office across the fire escape is given to an attractive stranger with one arm and no personal boundaries.

War, What is it Good For? (ao3) - Steggy peggy/steve N/R, 3k

Summary: Agent 13 was content. She fought, she worked, she planned. She participated in the war effort to drive the Germans out of Russia. She kept her emotions and impulses in check. Until a kid from Brooklyn made her start questioning herself.

we did not make ourselves (ao3) - M_Leigh steve/bucky G, 25k

Summary: It is like steel, the determination inside of you that tells you you will achieve this, that you will find him. Nothing will stop you. You are two sides of the same coin, you and he: he cannot escape you forever. Bucky runs. Steve follows.

Yes, Captain (ao3) - marlowe_tops steve/bucky E, 23k

Summary: Starts pre-Serum, in which Bucky takes seriously terrible care of himself because he’s trying to stifle the feelings he keeps having for Steve. Steve gets so pissed that he flat out orders Bucky into eating and sleeping and they both quickly realize Bucky loves being ordered around, but their new-forged domestic bliss is quickly damaged by the encroaching war.

[lena--beana]

Damn I can't believe Sam Deats read my journal and made Castlevania Nocturne specifically for me with everything I could have wanted from a Rondo/Symphony story but like

Oh my GOD??????????

Olrox getting main billing after being my favorite one-off villain with one (1) boss fight with no build-up and never reappearing, they were really like "yeah let's make him the hottest motherfucker in the world and make him even cooler while we're at it"

Richter and Maria's character designs are 😘👌 perfection! I loved how Maria had her classic hairdo with her nightgown too and watching Richter put the bandana on for the first time with goddamn "Divine Bloodlines" playing like????

And Richter doing the Grand Cross??? And his flame whip????? The 1000 blades technique against the marquis?????? Maria using so many of her animal friends and caring so much about each of them sweet child oh my goodness

Not to mention the way I screamed louder for Juste than Alucard bc let's be real baby vampire boy was always going to come back but I had NO faith that they would even look at my boy JB and especially Maxim?? Even in passing I'm so touched holy shit. And I see that red coat on the foot of his bed, I know my angry grandpa's coming back 👀👀

But speaking of Alucard I adore this redesign, the little cravat telling me they're at least trying to give him his Symphony look instead of the t-shirt in the last show is a nice touch but that porcelain doll look is killer and I'm all here for it 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Also everything about Annette oh my lord?? Giving her anything besides just being a damsel in distress like before but everything about her backstory had me on the edge of my seat and I LOVED watching her trap the plantation owner in a cage before the end

Loved getting to see Countess Bathory since we're never getting a Bloodlines anime, the succubus who took me way too long to realize she wasn't just a unique vampire like I had every clue thrown in my face from the fit to the nails and she even admitted to haunting men's dreams and I didn't figure it out til the second she grew wings 😭 glad Alucard still got to finish her off but I'm sad we probably won't get that scene with Lisa again (which probably wouldn't happen since Drac isn't back anyway so there wouldn't be much point)

Can I just talk about Olrox some more bc like??? This guy had NOTHING before the show, he was a fuckin Nosferatu reference and now they gave him all this history, they kept all of his abilities and the dragon transformation?? Plus the beautiful purple and gold suit and those piercing green eyes I love one (1) man and its this fucker I need WAY more of him next time around 👀👀👀👀👀

And yes absolutely I'm excited for next time, we're picking up right where Rondo starts, Father Abbott as a stand-in for Shaft and Tera immediately being turned, the city about to burn like? Are we gonna see Death again?? Do we get to watch Richter fight the Behemoth next season? Is Abbott going to totally lose his mind and bring back Dracula to stop Bathory? Since Alucard is here from the start and not after a time skip do we get to see the Inverted Castle? We already got so much that I would have called a million to one chance but anything's possible now we are SO back baybeeeee

[romanarose]

Marc calling you a dumbass as he fingers you to a babbling incomprehensible mess. Says your little brain is empty 🥲

Written in the Olive Garden dry storage just for you

Marc Spector X reader

Sexy Dentist

*****************

The man was getting on your last goddamn nerve.

Marc Spector was finger fucking into you at a rapid pace, harsh and steady, making you practically see stars. You try to say something, tell him how good he feels or how hot he looks as he bares over you, sweaty and strong and self assured. Marc wasn’t the most confident men you knew, but when it came to this? Marc knew he knew what he was doing, any words you tried to say came out as moans and little ‘uh, uh, uh’s to the pace of his fingers.

“What the matter baby? Can’t form words? Pretty baby too fucked out to speak?”

He knew damn well you couldn’t properly reply.

“I asked you a question”

You tried you best “m-mar-uh mmmph” it didn’t work.

Wicked grin on his face, Marc sat up beside you, still knuckles deep in your pussy “Why even try talking at this point, clearly there’s nothing going on in there” he taps your head and you can’t help moan at his degradation

“Ohhh, your pussy liked that, felt you clench down hard. Do you just need your mouth busy? Is that it?” Without waiting for a reply he shoves three finger in your mouth, and groans as you start sucking with closed eyes “is that? Little fuck toy wants to feel useful? Wants to be a good toy and get all used up?”

You attempted a little “mhm” around his fingers, drool dribbling down your mouth

“My good little whore likes all her holes filled?”

You make an attempt again, not getting far, but he pulls his sloppy fingers out of your mouth and slaps you, putting his fingers back in before you can reply “I asked you a question, say it, saying your my whore”

You were close, and his words were only bringing you closer, so you tried again “I-ur-oo-il-or” was all you were able to get out

“Good little fuck doll, so good for me, letting me use her up, dumb little toy with nothing going on in her pretty little head except my fingers and cock?”

You came all around him, liquids all over your mouth and pussy.

*5 minutes later*

Marc is cleaning off your face, frowning, you reach up for him “what’s wrong baby boy?”

He pauses before answering “you know I think you’re smart, right? And I don’t think you’re my sex toy. I love you, and I value you”

You’re heart melted for your sweet man “I know, baby, it’s just dirty talk, I love you”

Visibly relaxing, Marc bunched up the wash clothe, and tossed it toward the bathroom before laying down next you to you, interlacing his fingers with yours. “My pretty girl”

You kiss his cheek “and you’re my sexy dentist”

He was greatly confused.

You clarify “the way you ask me questions with your fingers in my mouth”

His beautiful face splitting into a grin, Marc pulled you into his arms, giggling as he called you a brat, and you spent the next few minuets rolling around on the bed trying to escape his arms with targeted tickles.

**********

On mobile and I can’t type for shit and my phone is wild with auto correct so forgive me

Tagging a few

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @kittyofalltrades @jake-g-lockley

[eye-candy-film-enjoyer]

My favorites of 2023

I wanted to make little wrap up of 2023, so here are my favorite movies and performances from 2023

Top Five Favorite movies

#5 The Hunger Games: The Ballad Of Songbirds and Snake - dir. Francis Lawrence

I am a YA/dystopian boy through and through. I thought this was a very faithful adaptation and very visually stunning. The performances were all great and I just really liked it. However, I had my problems with the book itself and I felt the movie didn't do a great job truly villainizing Snow (I found him too likable until like the end of the film) All in all though a fun watch.

#4 Saltburn- Dir. Emerald Fennell

If there's one thing I'm gonna do on this account, It's support a boy's wrongs. This movie has so many visual details and story details, it truly blows my mind. The soundtrack? Banger after banger. I'd never heard Murder on The Dance Floor before this movie but now I want to dance around a mansion to it. The cast? I mean just look at them. I do think occasionally this movie occasionally felt like it was just being shocking for shocking's sake and I got a little tired of it.

#3 Spiderman: Across The Spider-Verse- Dir. Kemp Powers, Justin K. Thompson, and Joaquim Dos Santos

I love art. There's no other way to say it. I am in love with creativity. The amount of details that are in this movie are so utterly mind blowing that every time I read about a new one, I feel like I have to rewatch this movie. The first Spider-verse film is an absolute masterpiece and this movie was not about to disappoint it. From the voice performances to the bleeding-water color, to animating on every other frame, this movie just had me floored. I hope it wins an Oscar for best animated feature or I'm throwing shit. I do want the second part before I fully judge the story but so far I think this is one of the best superhero stories in a while

#2 Barbie- Dir Greta Gerwig

I have never cried harder to a Nikki Minaj song. But actually, this movie made me fall in love with the simple act of being alive. It's a movie about a doll and yet its about enjoying life and growing up and how everything's so messy and it's so beautiful and we're so beautiful and I just. I get it. I get why Barbie wanted to be a human. We are all so fascinating. The ending montage alone is enough to make anyone with a heart cry. I hope that one day everyone is as in love with the world around them as this movie made me.

#1 Asteroid City- Dir. Wes Anderson

If you don't know the I'm Wes Anderson's number 1 fan, I'm doing something wrong. Truth be told, I didn't get this movie at first. I left the theater knowing that there was some deeper meaning but...what? So I thought about it for two weeks and then it hit me. There is no clear answer. There's no clear answer because the actors can't find a clear answer. There's no clear answer because the in-universe playwright didn't write one and maybe Anderson himself didn't write one. The movie has clear themes of grief and love and identity but at the end of the day what you choose to make of it is all up to you. There's also a lot to be said about how the play is existential and about uncertainty in the future and I think that's another reason I liked Asteroid City. I'm always so worried about the future. It terrifies me. But what can I do. And with that I once again realized that Wes Anderson was truly genius, and I don't think I'll ever see a film quite like Asteroid City again.

Favorite performances from each film

#5 Rachel Zegler as Lucy Gray Baird

I never got the hatred for Rachel Zegler. She was absolutely phenomenal in the 2021 West Side Story and she ate up Lucy Gray Baird. I just felt through the screen that Rachel understood her role so well. She played Lucy to all her vulnerability and strength and goddamn I am in love with her voice!! The old therebefore gave me absolute chills.

#4 Allison Oliver as Venetia Catton

being complete honest she's who I wanted to be in like middle school. Allison Oliver managed to play her as both such a free spirit and then to haunted on such the drop of the dime. From her subtle emotions to her snapping at Oliver in the bathtub she had me eating out of the palm of her hand. She would've loved Tumblr.

#3 Shameik Moore as Miles Morales

He had me laughing, crying, cheering and getting goosebumps the whole time. The absolute power Shameik Moore gives Miles is truly what tie the whole movie together. I feel like his performance often gets overshadowed for some of the bigger names in the cast and I truly find that shame. He gives Miles such a powerful and realistic portrayal that I admire it so deeply. From "Nah, I'mma do my own thing." to his conversations with Gwen to arguments with his parents, Shameik Moore makes Miles feel like a teenager who's trying to figure out who he is and a superhero saving a multiverse from collapsing

#2 Margot Robbie as Barbie

I'm fucking sick of only hearing Ryan Goslings name mentioned when we talk about the BARBIE movie! It is Margot's movie!! SHE ATE THAT SHIT UP!! She managed to so subtly bring in the changes of barbie being only a doll to being a real person. She provides so much of the movies comedy too. Her laying down crying had me wheezing not gonna lie. But she also shows us that how strong Barbie is and how she's so multi-faceted.She is truly someone little girls should see and be inspired by. Margot truly brought Barbie to life in all the ways that the audience and the script needed. She had me laughing, crying and smiling so goddamn wide the whole film. Here's to you, Margot.

#1 Jason Schwartzman as Augie Steenback/Jones Hall

It was the year of Schwartzman and nowhere was the proved more than in Asteroid City. Here we see, Jason Schwartzman playing and actor playing a single dad war photographer. Schwartzman manages to play all these layers so well, letting them blend together through on intense common factor: grief. Jones' grief bleeds into Augie in such a fascinating way that you might not even realize at first. It's so subtle and yet, it complete makes the performance. When we see Jones on his own a few times, though Jason Schwartzman manages to make him feel like a completely different man than Augie. The entire scene from Jones walking offstage to us being returned to 'Asteroid City' is truly some of my favorite acting of the year. Even through subtle expressions, we can truly see everything that Jones is experiencing. It's just such a sight to watch and it blows me away.

Some honorable film and performance mentions

Oppenheimer- Dir Christopher Nolan. Good film but a little too long if you ask me. Sorry!

Fav performance- Emily Blunt as Kitty Oppenheimer. She might not have been in a lot of the film but she stuck with me

Renfeild- Dir Chris McKay. Sorry I like fun camp! sue me!

Fav performance- Nic Cage as Dracula. I'm sorry Nic Cage is just so goddamn funny

Poison- Dir. Wes Anderson. Maybe the real snake was the Benedict Cumberbatch we met along the way.

Fav performance- Dev Patel as Woods. Wes please cast Dev Patel in a longer on of your films he ate this up.

Five Nights at Freddy's- Dir. Emma Tammi. I wanted to like it more but it felt like 3 different films until the last 20 minuets

fav performance- Matthew Lilard as William Afton. I want Stu Macher back after this.

The Swan- Dir. Wes Anderson. (Last time I mention Wes in this post I swear.) Hey Wesley! Quick question! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?? Thank youuuu!

Fav performance- Rupert Friend as Narrator/Peter Watson. Yeah he was the only guy speaking and he carried! The one moment where he breaks the stoic delivery and truly pleads for them to not kill the swan? Wow.

Gaurdians of The Galaxy Vol 3- Dir James Gunn. I have never cried over cgi this hard in my life!

Bradley Cooper as Rocket. Just hearing him scream sob almost had me open mouth sobbing in public.

Scream 6- Dir. Matt Bettinelli-olpin, Tyler Gillet. Starting to get real pissed at radiosilence.

fav performance- Jasmin Savoy-Brown as Mindy Meeks-Martin. She's so funny, I love her.

If y'all want I also have a favorite tv shows of 2023 post

[imsparky2002]

Barbie in the Nutcracker: First Thoughts

The following is my thoughts while watching this for the first time.

Credits look awful. Still, it’s 2001 and this is the first installment so I’ll give it a pass.

Only know the basic Nutcracker song and theme but nice that it uses an orchestra

Barbie herself doesn’t look too bad but her little sis… yikes.

Kinda weird to see these dolls moving like mocap performers.

Heh! Barbie’s voice actor has the same name as her little sister.

Kelly very clearly sounds like an adult woman trying to do a kiddish voice.

Lipsyncing is odd, looks more like generic flapping.

Surprisingly decent snow effects.

I’m assuming Clara’s parents are either dead or abandoned them. Or they could also just be on vacation.

Is it wrong that I find Grandpa cute? Gives off a very distinguished vibe. Especially that voice.

They call gingerbread houses “christmas boxes”? That’s… interesting.

Kinda wish they gave Clara a different voice from Barbie, or at the very least a different hairstyle.

The lighting is actually pretty good! Nice warm hues, makes me feel like I’m at a cozy inn.

Her little brother looks like the kids who played Fortnite and would tease me in high school. Of course his name is fuckin’ Tommy.

This CGI is reminding me of early PS2 cutscenes.

Aunt Drosselmayer’s got that 90’s Leo DiCaprio/Hugh Grant parting in her hair. Bleh.

Why is Clara the only blonde in the family?

Ooh! We’ve got some family drama between Auntie and Grandpa. This is getting juicy.

Elizabeth is giving me confident bisexual vibes with the voice and manner of movement. Bet you that’s why Grandpa doesn’t trust her.

Looking at the wiki I just found out that Trixie’s VA voices the Aunt, Starlight’s VA is Barbie and Cadence’s VA is one of the kids! Must be a Canadian production.

I will never not find the word “nutcracker” to be hilarious.

Clara, why tf are you fighting over a toy with your lil brother? You’re like… 17? 18? I dunno but it’s way too old.

Seriously they gave Tommy the most punchable face ever. Not that I’d ever punch a kid but I can see why other kids his age would deck him.

Magic shenanigans are ensuing.

I like the medeival look of the rats. The CGI actually fits them well.

Clara wakes up to see an anthropomorphic warrior rat right next to her eating something and is just like “goddamn it, git ya varmint!” I love it.

Oh, she thinks she’s dreaming. That makes sense to why she’s so calm.

Hmm… I feel like the Rat King should look a bit more evil, and larger as well. Still, TIM CURRY! I’m gonna LOVE this.

Woah! We’re getting a fight scene! A swordfighting scene to be exact!

Oooh the Rat King’s magic and can shapeshift his weapon. That’s metal AF.

Tim Curry putting everything into his performance as usual.

I’m kinda surprised we’re already getting a Nutcracker-Rat King battle. I’d have thought they’d save that sorta thing until the third act.

Did they really have to change it to Sugarplum Princess? Fairy just sounds more powerful.

Wow! This snowy cave is beautiful! Something out of a classic painting.

EWWW THESE LIL SNOW FAIRIES LOOK DISGUSTING!

Did this nutfucker not realize that an icy fortress would have ice for the walls?

The fairies doing ballet looks weird because they have nothing to stand on.

Please don’t tell me the small fairy is staying, I hate her.

Dance is currently reminding me of Fantasia.

“The fairies probably went off to make a blizzard somewhere”. The way he said that nonchalantly had me cackling.

The effect of Clara’s footsteps turning into flowers is beautiful.

Pimm sounds like he’s an absolute troll online. Also gives me Psychicpebbles vibes (though I know it’s not him).

Wow the Rat King is a straight up genocider.

Why do all the kids look like Kelly?

OH DEAR GOD THAT LITTLE BOY LOOKS HORRIFYING.

Wait Prince Eric? Are they legally allowed to call him that? We all know how much Disney loves copyrights.

Man these kids are little shits and their outfits are gagworthy.

Major Mint definitely got a big personality, and the voice actor does a good job with it.

Ok Mint is hilarious and is so far the best part of the movie.

Nice to see some Asian rep with Captain Candy.

Wow, Rat King turns his failed employees into stone. Dark!

The zoom in on the Rat King as he says “that’s it?” made me giggle.

Thomas Astruc looked at the Rock Golem and got his first idea for an akuma.

Wait how the hell does Clara know that the Nutcracker is Prince Eric? I mean I already assumed because of the plot of the original ballet, but how does she know?!

The bridge scene gives me the willies, since I’m afraid of heights.

Wow this flower fairy is the only kid-looking character that has a decent design.

Didn’t expect a song to be interrupted by an enemy.

Lol, the Major’s monocle falls off as he sees the giant.

Glad to see the fairies serve a purpose other than dancing. Kick that giant’s ass!

Captain Candy’s a better man than Mint, as he actually makes sure that he gets saved.

Once again, the island is beautiful! Reminds me of Oz with the colored roads.

Ooh clever! At first I thought the castle’s backdrop looked really fake but I just factored it was because it’s 2001 CGI. But it was actually a trap!

Nice we see a test of Clara’s character that she passed.

The invisble hand touching Clara’s hand is actually making me feel kinda teary-eyed internally.

The Rat King definitely has a Napoleon complex.

Loving the character arc for Nutcracker with his final duel.

Ah! So now the Rat King is growing. Fits for the climax.

Huh… Prince Eric looks more like Jimmy Pesto than a prince.

Lol Major Mint realizes he’s been shittalking the prince.

Huh, so Clara’s the princess? I guess it sorta makes sense since it’s her dream.

For those princes out there who are hated by the public, all ya gotta do is fight a giant mouse.

Mint and Candy got the moves! Best dancers of the entire movie.

The final dance between Eric and Clara is absolutely gorgeous.

The villain was taken down by a snowball… I love it.

God Kelly Sheridan and Kirby Morrow really put everything into the scene where Clara disappears.

Lol Kelly’s Canana accent shows up when she says “It’s not a story”.

“What’s all this foolishness about mice kings and bats, Clara? Enough of your womenly hysteria! Time for a lobotomy!” Grandpa, basically.

Actually now that he’s in a suit, Eric looks a lot hotter.

I’m surprised Barbie’s little sister had the attention span to listen to a 1 hour story.

I'll be making a full review of the film soon. Let me know thoughts in the comments and reblogs. @artzychic27 @msweebyness

[noteveryoneis]

i built a home (for you; for me) aka Avatrice as Hogwarts teachers part 4/?

Literally crying as I post this chapter because I feel like you guys' expectations of me are waaaay too high and that you guys don't know that I'm actually a wild raccoon living in a dumpster and that you really have to lower your expectations because this is just a silly little fic that I write in my goddamn Wattpad drafts because this is the only app I know how to use to organise my shit Anyways. LOWER YOUR EXPECTATIONS I AINT NO SHAKESPEAR (SHEAKSPER? SKEASPAR? SLEEP I NEED SLEEP)

Beatrice doesn't understand why the spells to heal injuries don't soothe the pain too. Or maybe there are spells that do both, but neither Bernard nor her know them. Or maybe Bernard does, but decided not to use them on her.

She thought he was being kind — her big brother, her Bernard, the boy that stole her favourite doll after Father confiscated all of her toys when she was seven and snuck it back to her, putting a finger to his lips and telling her to hide it —, as he unlocked the door to her room during the afternoon, quietly making his way over to where Beatrice was hiding behind her chest of drawers, making her raise her head to look at him. He almost looked mad for a second, when he examined her swollen eye and the blooming bruises on her cheek. She can't remember why Father had gotten mad in the first place, perhaps she hadn't been fast enough to stop herself from letting out a witty comment, perhaps she had been looking at the burned holes in the family tapestry for too long, perhaps she had asked for her wand back.

Does it matter in the end?

Bernard healed her, making the bruises disappear and leaving her as good as new, to the outside eye, at least. For a single short second, she thought he was back to his senses, back to her, that he was going to tell her to hang on until he could find a way to get her away from here, away from them. But then her Mother had called, telling her she needed to get dressed for the soiree, and Beatrice had realised she had been the one to send him here. 

And so here Beatrice is, wearing a dress even more ridiculous than last time, shivering in the cold air of the ballroom. She looks like someone's dead great aunt, just as she had whispered when her mother had had the amiability to ask her for her thoughts. Her mother had gripped her wrist, burying her nails in her flesh, and hissed in her ear: 'Behave. Do not disgrace this family again. You already know the consequences.', but she could have sworn she heard Bernard chuckle. 

Beatrice is simply trying to survive through the night, one day at a time. One hour, one minute, one second. One breath after the other. 

"Hi," a voice says, and Beatrice has to stop herself from jumping as she turns around, finding Chanel in a beautiful golden yellow dress, her smile fading away as she looks at her. "Mercy Lewis, what happened to you?"

"What?" Beatrice bites back. 

No vulnerability. No kindness, no pity. Young's only inspired respect and fear. That was the law.

"You look... Like you're about to die, honey. Are you okay?"

Beatrice hates how kind Chanel is, how her voice just wraps her up in a warm embrace, and how weak she is to it. She hates that she's not strong enough to repair the broken window that is starting to let people into her family's empty house. 

"I'm fine," she dismisses with a wave of her hand, like it's nothing, like she's not having trouble being alive. "I am," she insists when Chanel raises an eyebrow.

She wonders if Chanel can see through Bernard's spells — It's impossible, but people are not supposed to be able to levitate without their wands either.

Randall is charming an old witch in the background, pretending to listen to her talk about her lineage as Zori is stuffing food into her pockets, sending a look that says 'I dare you' to Beatrice when she catches her watching. 

"Okay, well, Ava asked me to talk to you."

Beatrice whips her head back towards Chanel, pretending not to notice the girl's smirk, as if she knows something. 

"What do you mean?"

"She's... Well she's gonna do something weird and kinda scary and she's afraid you might bolt so I'm supposed to stop you from running away," Chanel says, bringing her flute of champagne to her lips. 

Fear swirls in Beatrice's stomach, her heart missing a beat in her chest. That information only makes her want to make a run for it, because what could Ava do that would scare her that much?

"Is she going to drop from the ceiling?" She asks breathlessly.

Chanel snorts out a laugh.

"I wish."

There is a movement in the room and Beatrice's attention drops from Chanel's smile to the staircase that conveniently stops right at the beginning of the ballroom. 

For a few seconds, Beatrice forgets to breathe.

Ava is wearing a little red dress that shows as much tan skin as it can without being indecent, vulgar, but Ava makes it perfect, angelic. Holy, almost. She is beautiful, incredibly so, with her wild brown hair down her back, her red lips eased into a pout, her doe eyes sparkling under the lights of the chandelier. 

If Ava had been born a god, Beatrice would have become a nun right away.

She slowly goes down the staircase, her hand into JC's elbow as he leads her down, his white shirt buttoned almost all the way up. Professor Vincent meets her at the end, presenting his hand to her and Ava takes it graciously, with her most angelic smile plastered on her face. Beatrice knows it's fake. Ava's smile is big and sunny and warm, and she's seen that smile so many time before — on her mother's face, on her brother's face, on the reflection of her cup of tea as her father read a journal with the name of a new dark wizard (Adriel) written all over it, on her own reflection in the window of the living room as one of her uncles tried to convince her she was only good for marriage — she practically learned every curve of it. 

"Ladies and gentlemen, the New Areala," Professor Vincent says, quietly, but somehow everyone hears and whispers swirl around the room as Ava smiles.

Beatrice has to stop herself from letting out a snort at the way one of Ava's eyebrows rises, JC tightening his grip on her hand like he's afraid she'll jump at Professor Vincent's throat.

"As you all have heard, Miss Silva here has shown prowess of magic for years now. She is one of the brightest witches of our academy, if not the most gifted, dare I say."

"You're too kind, Professor Vincent," Ava says, and her voice is perfectly controlled, malleable, sending shivers into Beatrice's spine.

JC looks away, looking like he is trying really hard not to laugh, and Ava pinches his elbow without even looking away from the crowd.

"There is a bright future ahead of Miss Silva," Professor Vincent continues, "And ahead of the whole wizarding world, if I dare say so myself. I truly believe that she will guide us towards a brighter future, just like many other talented witches and wizards have done before."

Somehow, Beatrice feels something akin to worry as she hears those words echo in the ballroom. Because there is something dangerous to this type of speech, something that the world has seen before and will keep seeing again and again until the end of time. 

"Indeed," Professor Vincent announces, "Miss Silva comes from a long lineage of powerful witches that fought against the Dark Forces and she is, as some have guessed it, the descendant of Areala who will take up the family torch and end the fight of Good against Evil magic."

Beatrice hates how much his words sound carefully chosen, how this all seems like a well-practised show that is completely unlike Ava. But Ava doesn't know or she chooses to ignore it, instead staying immobile as Professor Vincent turns towards her, nodding. She pouts, frowning and fretting like a child that doesn't want to do something. Professor Vincent whispers something to her, and she rolls her eyes but starts walking towards the empty circle in the middle of the room. 

Chanel gestures for Beatrice to take a step back, but Beatrice doesn't, clutching the fabric of her dress as whispers swirl around the room. 

Ava takes off her heels, looking at Professor Vincent straight in the eyes — she will do what he asks, but under her own conditions —, and shoves them into JC's hands, making him almost stumble backwards, and Beatrice cannot stop the chuckle that makes its way past her lips. 

Ava walks barefoot to the middle of the room, and Beatrice can hear a few scandalised scowls at her indecency, but Ava doesn't seem to care, throwing her hair back, smoothing her skirt. 

She stands with both feet settled into the ground, her elbows at her side, her hands outstretched in front of her, palm to the sky, as if ready to receive a deity's blessing. Her gaze searches the crowd, finds Beatrice's.

Ava doesn't smile, Ava doesn't throw a joke at her. Ava opens her mouth slightly, and mutters a word that Beatrice cannot even read.

Every candle in the room dies suddenly as they plunged into darkness, a few screams of surprise echoing in the room. Beatrice clutches her dress in panic, trying to find something, anything, to hang onto, but light finds her before she does.

When Beatrice thought of Ava as the sun, she didn't think she would actually see her become one. And yet here Ava is, tanned skin producing a golden glow so strong the whole room is suddenly lit up, and Beatrice finds Chanel standing next to her, an unimpressed pout on her face as she claps lightly with the rest of the crowd. 

Ava doesn't stop here. Her eyes are closed, but Beatrice sees her mouth a word, quiet against the rumours of the ballroom. All of the light leaves her body and shoots out of her chest, in between her outstretched hands. 

Beatrice expects — and dreads — a Thestral, but it's a child made out of light that runs straight in front of Ava, before disappearing in a puff of sparks that fall like snow to the ground. 

"Necromancy?" Beatrice breathes out, not even registering the words before they come out of her mouth.

"Worse," Chanel whispers next to her. 

With one hand still in front of her, Ava gestures around, and this time the windows break all around them, glass falling from the ceiling as the crowd screams. Beatrice raises a hand to protect herself, to no need: all the shards of glass have stopped over their heads, still as they recover from their surprise as best they can. 

Ava is still standing in the middle of the room, eyes closed, but her breathing is faster, erratic and hoarse. Beatrice expects her to change the glass into something, anything — sand, rain —, but it's snow that lands softly into her hair, and she can't help but shiver at the memory of the Dementors — and Ava's hand in hers. 

Transfiguration.

As she looks up she realises that Ava is doing much more than that. The sun rises from where it had fallen, making its way backward into the sky until it falls again, and night envelops them before it starts again, faster and faster and faster.

Time magic.

Ava holds the sun in the sky for a moment, not even seeming to hear the exclamations of admiration, then releases it and it starts turning and turning again, rising and falling until it stops, back where it was.

Snow rises from their shoulders and out of their eyelashes, transforming back into shards of glasses that gather together to form a mosaic of broken glass. With a wave of Ava's hand, all of the cracks assemble and all is left are the windows and the glass ceiling just as they were. 

Beatrice hears shouts and turns back to Ava, only to see figures of light make their way through the crowd to stand behind her, one after the other, in a long line of luminescent women. Ava seems to have lost every ounce of control she once had, her hands trembling in front of her as she shakes like a leaf.

The women take a step forward, merging into her, and Ava gasps as she stumbles forwards, opening her eyelids and the warm brown of her eyes is gone, replaced by a blinding light that is gone the next minute when she blinks.

Candles light up once again around them, and Ava straightens up, her hair hiding her face. She turns around, ignoring the gaping mouths and hesitant claps of the crowd, walks back to JC and rips her shoes from his hands, whispering something to Professor Vincent before making her way back up the stairs without a single look behind her. 

A hand brushes against Beatrice's arms, and Chanel is raising an eyebrow.

"Breathe, Young."

Beatrice inhales a gulp of air through her open mouth, stuttering as she tries to regain composure.

Around them, wizards and witches are whispering to each other, some of them going as far as yelling, and Beatrice feels fear resuming its grip on her.

"What the Hell was that?" She grits out.

Chanel shrugs.

"Vincent needs people's support after the latest murders, Ava is just out of Castelobruxo, people still think she's a kid that wants the attention on her. And well... We can't fight when we don't have any weapons."

"Murders? What murders?"

Chanel looks at her up and down like she's never seen her in her life, and Beatrice crosses her arms over her chest in defence.

"Do you live in a cave?"

"Something like that," Beatrice mutters, thinking about the newspapers her father doesn't allow her to read and that she keeps trying to steal before he burns them. 

"Eight wizards and witches dead somewhere in Mexico. They didn't even have time to draw out their wands. Women. Children," Chanel grits out. "With the sentence 'Praise Adriel' written on their forearms. The fucker is signing his crimes now."

Beatrice wants to ask why Aurors aren't doing anything, why the MACUSA or the British Ministry of Magic isn't doing anything, or even why Ava has anything to do with this, but her parents are approaching, and she shuts her mouth. She thinks about running for a short second, about shaking Chanel by the shoulders and screaming that this is not normal, but she can't. 

She stays frozen and her Mother and Father make their way to her, and only when she realises that JC is standing next to them does she allow herself to breathe.

"The New Areala is requesting your presence, Beatrice," her father says, poison in his voice and curiosity in his eyes, and Beatrice looks at them all with wide eyes.

"Me? Av— Miss Silva wants to see me?"

Melanie has always told her that she was a bad actress, Beatrice thinks that she's been pretending since she was seven. 

"Yes," JC says, interrupting her mother before she can even begin to speak, and Beatrice wants to laugh at that. "Just you," he adds, not quite looking at her parents but clearly talking to them.

"Alright, show me the way," Beatrice says, throwing her skirt over her forearm to walk faster.

"Beatrice," her mother hisses more than she says. "Don't be ridiculous. You need a chaperone."

And oh right, etiquette. Unmarried women are not allowed to be left alone in the presence of a man, blah blah blah. Beatrice fights the urge to roll her eyes, instead extending her arm towards Chanel, looking at her mother straight in the eyes as she says:

"Shall we?"

Chanel gladly takes the extended arm, and her mother gapes at her as they walk past her, but what can she say? Explaining why Beatrice cannot be left alone with a girl either would be defeating the whole purpose as to why she needs surveillance.

"Damn," Chanel chuckles as she guides her up the stairs and into a hallway. "Didn't know you had it in you."

Beatrice simply hums as an answer, too focused on the fact that Ava directly asked for her instead of finding a way to sneak her away. It was important.

Chanel stops in front of the door, and Beatrice sends her a questioning look.

"You're not going in with me?"

"Like JC said, she only wants you. Knock first, though," she says, turning her back to the door.

And so Beatrice does, knocking and waiting for a muffled 'Come in' to enter the room.

From what she understands, this place are some sort of MACUSA issued headquarters where Ava managed to drag her friends in with her, and even though there is a ballroom, Beatrice didn't expect Ava's room to be so big — 'Not everyone has chandelier hanging in their living room, Young,' Melanie had told her once. 

Sure, it is modestly simple, and it's spacious and full of light but somehow it doesn't seem like Ava. Ava is messy, Ava is sunny and lovely and this room has too much space, it is empty. There is just a bed way too big for her in the centre and a couple of chairs but everything is too impersonal and it reminds Beatrice too much of her own bedroom. 

Ava is sprawled on the ground, the little red dress thrown in a heap next to the door. She is only wearing a t-shirt and sleep shorts, cradling a bottle of Firewhisky against her chest like it's a baby, and Beatrice instinctively starts folding the dress, trying really hard not to think about the fact that it is still warm under her fingers.

"English!" Ava squeals, before erupting into a feat of giggles.

"Ava," Beatrice greets back, putting the folded dress on a chair. "You asked for me?"

"Yeah," Ava slurs, wriggling from where she's seated. "All the others are meeean!"

She pouts, pressing a kiss to the bottle and Beatrice raises an eyebrow.

"Are you drunk?"

"Nah."

"Are you lying?"

At this, Ava seems to hesitate for a long second, and Beatrice raises an eyebrow.

"Yes," Ava whispers finally, like a disobedient child.

Beatrice doesn't know if she should cry or laugh.

"So!" Ava yells. "Whaddaya think?"

"Think of what?"

"The show! The magic and the — whoomp shee! — pizzazz!"

"Well, it sure was something," Beatrice says carefully. 

"Ha! You don't think it was good," Ava says sadly, bringing the neck of the bottle to her lips.

Something is lying on the ground next to her, and Beatrice has seen many of those things before without figuring out what they are — they look like headbands with strange devices for the ears and cords connected to them.

"I think," Beatrice says, kneeling in front of her, "that you didn't do it because you wanted to, and that takes the beauty of it."

Ava nearly chokes on her mouthful, wiping her lips with the back of her hand. 

"See? You see soooo many things and it's not fair!"

"How much have you had?" Beatrice asks, eyeing the bottle suspiciously.

"Not enough," Ava says, raising the bottle to her lips, but Beatrice grabs it before she can take a sip.

"Ava."

"English! Come on, you're no fun."

"I know."

"You don't know shit, English," Ava suddenly laughs, and Beatrice sets the bottle on the chest of drawers next to them. "Nobody does! Nobody knows anything or well, they don't care."

Beatrice kneels back next to her, awkwardly arranging her dress around her.

"Then why don't you tell me?"

Ava seems to really think about it for a second, perhaps she is wondering if Zori was right in her assumptions. 

"I have to stop him."

"Who?"

"Adriel. He's a bad guy, a grade-A asshole, a dick. He needs to be stopped, and I'm just here, parading in my little dress, making a show of my powers so that those fuckers will help me stop him. Meanwhile he's killing people in the street."

She's playing with the cords of the things Beatrice doesn't know the name of, and Beatrice can only look from where she's seated at a reasonable distance.

"It's not your fault, Ava."

And Ava laughs, even though it's not funny, and Beatrice waits for an explanation that never comes.

"Alright," she sighs. "Let's get you into your bed."

"Nu-uh, gotta put that away first," Ava says, handing her the thing, like she doesn't trust herself to get up without falling back.

Beatrice fiddles with the headband, the little transparent box at the end of the cords.

"What is that?"

"'S a walkman. My mom. You put music in there," she explains vaguely, gesturing to the transparent box. "Top drawer, into the pink sock. You put it in there with the other tapes."

And so Beatrice does, opening the drawer and trying not to think about the facts that this is probably Ava's most cherished possession and yet she is hiding it, and that she trusts Beatrice to put it back in its hiding spot.

She shakes the thoughts away as she closes the drawer and walks back to Ava.

"Alright. Let's get you to bed."

Ava makes grabby hands at her as Beatrice bends down to put her arms around her waist, lifting her against her.

"Whooo you're strong!" Ava sings-songs as she leads her across the room to the bed. 

Beatrice fails not to smile as she puts her into the bed, trying to move Ava to put the blanket over her. But Ava keeps trying to touch her face, giggling to herself.

"Ava, stop."

"But you're so pretty. It's not fair!"

"What is not fair, Ava?" Beatrice asks, trying to distract her long enough to grab the sheets.

"That you're so pretty and you're so kind and you say good things to me and it makes me want to kiss you."

Beatrice's heart stops in her chest, her body freezes in its spot, and for a second she is back in the darkness, back in the cold and the fear and Death. She wants to scream, she wants to cry, she wants to open the window and jump into the void and she wonders if she has ever felt that terrified in her life — she knows she has, but somehow, in the moment, it all seems insignificant compared to the deep and freezing fear that sets itself into her bones.

She grabs Ava by the shoulders, eyes wide with panic.

"Ava. Ava, you can't say that. You can't say those things."

But Ava just hums as an answer, her head lulling to the side --- she is already asleep.

"Ava?" Beatrice shakes her, but she doesn't react. "Ava, you can't say that. They'll kill you. They'll kill you, Ava. You can't go to the mausoleum," she chokes out, before being silenced by her own sobs. 

She cradles Ava into her arms, begging for her to stop without knowing if her pleas are answered anywhere in the universe, like they never have been. When she feels the mirror cracking, she puts Ava back against the pillows, covering her with the blanket and stands on wobbly legs as she staggers to the door.

Chanel's face on the other side is closed and stern, her jaw is clenched, and Beatrice covers the door with her own body, ready to be brave, ready to be bold, if it means she can save Ava. 

"Listen here, Young," Chanel says. "I get that we don't agree on everything, and frankly I don't know what Ava sees in you, but I won't sit there and listen as you say shit like that."

Oh. Oh, no.

"This is the 21st century, and maybe it's time that your family starts living in the real world, because that is some bullshit," Chanel spits out. "If you can't deal with the fact that the girl likes chicks, you better start moving away before I do it for you."

"It's not like that," Beatrice mutters out, before she can stop herself.

"Then what is it?"

Beatrice makes a mistake right there and then, standing in the lit up corridor in front of a girl she barely knows: she looks to the side, to the voice and the laughter they can hear from the ballroom. It only lasts a second, but it's enough; when she looks back at Chanel, the girl knows.

All of her anger melts away, her eyes turning sad and sorry.

"Oh God, no," she says and Beatrice breaks.

For a quarter of a second, she lets the mirror shatter and ducks her head as tears spill out, like blood from an open wound. Chanel wraps her arms around her, Beatrice grips the golden fabric of her dress like an anchor.

"It's gonna be okay, honey," Chanel whispers, but Beatrice knows it's a lie.

"Beatrice!"

Bernard rounds up the corner and Beatrice steps away from the girl just as quickly, building the mirror back to its original self. She is Beatrice Young. She is cold and she is sharp and she will be the perfect daughter, even if she has to die in the process.

Thankfully, Bernard doesn't seem to have seen anything, but he looks suspiciously at Chanel's absolutely destroyed face.

A part of Beatrice wants to punch some sense into her. If she doesn't get a grip of herself, her brother will know.

"Come, we're leaving," Bernard says, and Beatrice nods, stepping into his shadow as she follows him.

She turns back towards Chanel to send her daggers through her eyes, and the girl shakes her head.

She won't tell anyone.

Neither will Beatrice.

[ambrosewriter]

Baptism of Betrayal

After Ayumi kills Naomi in the basement, she begins to realize the fate she has locked herself into.

This is an extension of Wrong End 2 ★4 of Chapter 5 in BloodCovered: Repeated Fear. !!This fic does not follow the ending faithfully, rather it is my interpretation of it.

I killed her.

Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.Ikilledher.

Euphoria coursed through my veins. 

I finally bested her. It took long enough for me to finally do it. Her blood stained my hand and the sleeve of my uniform a beautiful shade of red. The most beautiful I’d ever seen up until now. Who cares if it is the same color as Suzumoto’s, who is splattered against a wall? I welcome this new spider lily accessory; I’ll be able to wash it off soon anyway. My uniform might need a little bit more elbow grease, but that’s okay; so does my skirt.

“I’ll be taking this! Hehe.” I took the paper doll scrap from Nakashima’s hand. Somehow, rigor mortis has already set in, further pushing the narrative that time is moving differently here in this space. Her knuckles made an eerie clicking sound as I grabbed the piece of paper.

Now all that is left is to find Mochida. He must be hurt by the loss of his sister, poor girl. Maybe if she didn’t meddle in our business back in the classroom, she wouldn’t have been in this situation to begin with.

Rounding the corner, I found him sooner than I anticipated. “Mochida-kun!!” I called out to him, but no response. “Hey, come on! Let’s get out of here!”

He didn’t say a thing, never even made an effort to look up to me. Walking closer to him, I saw the thick, black mist surrounding him. The only thing falling out of his mouth at this point is “Yuka… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry….”

Satoshi Mochida is gone. There is no life in his eyes. No will to live. No hope like I saw moments before.

“No… the darkening. Not you too,” 

This curse has claimed another friend. Kishinuma is the second, as he is likely still standing by that incinerator in a more sorry state than Mochida. The boys are gone. Nakashima and Mochida found Yuka dead further in the basement. Nakashima is...

Nakashima… She’s… I…

“No… No. No. No. NOOOOO!!!”

I am the last person still alive. Everyone else is gone. The paper doll scrap I killed someone over is now useless. Without someone else to do the charm with, I have no way to get out.

The realization hit me hard. My knees began to give out. I backed away from Mochida to the middle of the intersection. One way made me face the unnecessary murder I had just committed, and the other made me face the reality of my permanent entrapment. I walked towards Nakashima. She lays on the dirt ground, bruised and bloody from where I pummeled her. I took a closer look.

The bitch is smiling at me. Even in death, she has a goddamn smirk on her face. Once again, she proves that I will never get what I want.

I ran away from the scene of my crime. I can’t take looking at either of them anymore. It felt like I was inhaling ice shards as I ran. The taste and smell of metal hit the back of my throat as I breathed. Anything is welcome to distract me from this hell I’ve put myself into.

Running past all the podiums and displays full of severed heads from countless victims who have been sent here, I made it to the basement door.

“Let me out!” I began banging my fists on the door, “Let me out! Let me out!” 

The door won’t give. It will never give. The warding charms on the other side are keeping it closed, and there is nothing I can do to open it. Whatever blood was still wet or malleable on my hand splattered onto the door. I pounded and pounded with the false hope that the hallway on the other side would show itself.

“Let me out, please!” I slid down the door and fell onto my knees. Tears began to fall down my face. My cries are only heard by the deaf ears of corpses. 

“Mom!”

“Nee-chan!” 

…

“Kishinuma!” 

How pathetic do I have to be to call out to Kishinuma, of all people? At this point, I am no different than Mochida, who is letting words stumble out of his mouth.

This school has bested me, finally cracked me. I am merely a human girl who cannot do anything other than whine, bitch, and complain. All of this is because of me. I was the one who found the charm; I was the one who suggested doing it. I cut out the paper doll so merrily, I made it a big deal with Suzumoto leaving.

My vision began to darken. Maybe it was the basement lights finally giving out, or I haven’t been breathing properly down here. Of course I wasn’t; the air here is thick, and I’ve been crying and wailing. It began to darken deeper. I raised my hand to look at the blood. It’s darker now, having dried up for the most part, with parts on the side of my hand peeking through from where it made contact with the door. 

Oh… I get it now. I’m succumbing to the darkening. It’s a fitting end for someone like me. I turned to rest my back against the door. The lightbulb’s glow grew dimmer as the hallway appeared to grow in length. That darkness at the very end looked as if it were crawling toward me. It reminds me of the weird stains on the floor when Yuki came to give Kishinuma and I her thanks.

Kishinuma… 

I never thanked him for coming back. He wouldn’t be able to hear me, but the gesture, I’m sure, would have been felt. I never apologized for being vile to him, either. Berating him back in our classroom was uncalled for. He was only trying to help make this situation better. Even after I said what I did, he still came in to help me. I’m not worthy of his love or admiration.

The darkness crawled closer.

Nakashima…

I should have just left her alone. If I did, we could have both left. I could have snagged Mochida’s scrap from his pocket. I shouldn’t have let my jealousy and anger get the best of me, or we could both be home.

Red eyes began to pop out from the darkness. They have no pupils, irises, or sclera; they’re just a flat red. The same eyes I saw back in 2-9. I felt all of them analyzing me. They felt familiar, almost like they were my friends berating me. 

Not long after the eyes, the voices began to speak up.

“How could you do this?” 

“Why did you kill me?”

“Why did you kill us?”

“It hurts so much.”

“Do you know what you did to us?”

Shut up. Shut up. Shut up!

“Don’t you think I feel guilty?! I didn’t want any of this!”

I took my newfound energy and sprang up to my feet. I ran back in, past the eyes, pushing out the voices. The hands were making desperate attempts to grab me, but failed.

How does one escape their own head? That’s all it is, my own mind working against me.

Wait.

My own head?

Running back past the trophies, around the maze, I find myself back at Nakashima’s corpse. She was still wearing that smirk on her face, like she knew what she was doing to me.

I let out a guttural scream and threw myself at her. I began clawing at her throat.

“Let’s shut you up, huh? HUH? Do you think you can get away with messing with me?! Last time I checked, I was the one who bested you! Who gave you the right to fuck with me?”

My hands found their way from her throat to her mouth. I dug my fingernails in and tore whatever skin off. It was in my way. I pushed past her teeth and dug my nails into her tongue.

“Do you know why those kids didn’t talk? It’s because Sachiko cut their tongues out! Haha, yes! So, if it worked for her, it should work for me too! Aha ha ha ha ha!”

My cheeks are stinging, but I don’t care. The euphoria I felt moments ago has come back with a vengeance.  

I continued to claw at Nakashima’s face until she was unrecognizable. Ripping her tongue out of her mouth caused blood to spray onto my face. If her mother saw her, I’m sure she would cry hysterically.

“Aha ha ha ha ha. Do you still feel confident now? The only reason why anyone would bother looking at you is because of your tits! That’s the only thing anyone would care about anyway!”

I stood up to admire my handiwork from afar. Blood dripped from my fingertips, the sound echoing through the empty halls. Laughter roared out of me. There was no stopping it. Naomi Nakashima was wounded beyond recognition to anyone but me. Only other unfortunate souls sent here will ever learn her name from her I.D.. 

Now everything on me is covered in red. The blood drying gave me a weird sticky sensation, but only on small patches of my skin. It was irritating. I want to wash it off, but this building has no working water.

I began to wipe off as much as possible, but all the fabric was stained after a while.

“Ghh… I need to get this off. But where… where?”

Aimlessly walking around, I found myself back at the body pool. It smells of death in here, so much so that anyone would vomit just by standing in the doorframe, but it doesn’t bother me at all. In fact, I walked in merrily to the edge of the pool and stuck my hands in.

“Weird, I thought it’d be cooler.”

The mixture of blood, viscera and rotten meat was oddly warm. Inviting, almost. Too inviting.

“Going further shouldn’t hurt, right?”

I sunk my arms up to my elbows. Then to my shoulders. Soon, I found myself fully submerged. I already nearly drowned once; a second time wouldn’t hurt. 

I put my head under and swallowed as much as I could. It tasted horrendous, but I couldn’t stop. Eventually, I began sinking further into the pool.

Why was I doing this?

Wait.

Why was I doing this?

Snapping out of whatever idiotic mindset I was in, I made vain attempts to reach the surface. None of them succeeded. I must lay in the baptismal font of my sins, as it is my punishment.

Slowly but surely, my memory from the past hour or so came back piece by piece. How could I have desecrated Nakashima like that? Even the first time around, I didn’t want to. What a pitiful person I am.

My vision began to darken again, but this time for good. Indeed, this is a fitting end for a betrayer like me.

a/n: thank you so much for reading <3 this is my first fic that i've published ! i do plan on making more Wrong End Extensions, so stay tuned :) i do have a ao3 under the same name (ambrose_writer) so feel free to show support on both sites :)