#this is low effort vibes only stuff
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necrotic-nephilim · 26 days ago
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JayTim
“So, like… Do you want to fuck me up or do you want to fuck me?”
“Can’t it be both?”
you're SO real for this. this is absolutely them. have like. a VERY short ficlet, this is only 1.3k but i loved the thought so. enjoy anyway <3
Tim still hadn't figured Jason Todd out.
For every time he thought he understood Jason, the rug was yanked out from under Tim's feet by Jason upping the ante. One day he was fighting Tim for no reason at all, the next he was crashing Tim's patrol just to talk. Which was Jason's way of saying he would beg for Tim's attention until they inevitably came to blows again.
And this time, as Jason pinned Tim against a rough brick wall and held him a solid foot above the ground to force Tim to look Jason in the eyes, Tim had no idea which end of the spectrum he was going to get.
"So like..." Tim groaned, trying to breathe in. He was pretty sure the slam against the wall was enough to bruise his ribs. His face was already bloody from the previous fight Jason crashed and he had to blink to keep blood out of his eyes. Maybe it was the blood loss, maybe it was his ever-thinning patience running out, but Tim had the brazen idea to say the question that always sat in the back of his head. "Do you want to fuck me up or do you want to fuck me?"
The question was a joke. Mostly, at least. Something to throw Jason off his balance and it worked wonders. Jason wasn't wearing his helmet, giving Tim the glorious view of Jason's expression shifting as he leaned back, eyes going wide and jaw falling slack. The feral smirk Jason always wore around Tim was gone, replaced by surprised, parted lips.
Tim waffled back and forth on if he actually believed Jason wanted to fuck him. It'd been a crude joke from Stephanie the first time when Tim ranted to her about yet another run-in with Jason. He hadn't taken it seriously at the time.
But the longer the question sat in Tim's psyche, the more he really wondered.
It was the closest he had to a reasonable explanation for any of this. Though, expecting reasonable explanations for anything Jason did might've been Tim's first mistake.
Jason managed to regain his composure by sucking in a breath through his teeth. His eyes narrowed and he leaned in as close as he could get to Tim's face without them physically touching. Just when Tim was completely positive Jason was going to rip Tim's jugular out with his teeth for the implication, Jason smirked again.
"Can't it be both?" He whispered, voice dropping an octave.
Tim swallowed.
Great corner he'd backed himself into with that one.
What response was he expecting out of Jason for either answer?
"I don't think that's how love stories work," Tim found his voice, even if it barely sounded like his own, breaking on a few words. "Courting comes with roses, I think. Not punches."
That answer just seemed to stroke the fire in Jason's eyes. His smirk grew into a deadly grin. "Didn't know you were a romantic. Do you want roses, Drake?" Jason tilted his head, then shrugged. "I can do roses. Can't promise I'll pull the punches, though. Call it a compromise."
Did Tim want roses?
Or, better question: did he want Jason?
That was something Tim had been dancing around since he seriously considered the possibility of Jason wanting him. Tim shut it down every time he thought about it. He didn't like where his mind wandered.
The mental images he dreamed up would probably make Bruce go into early retirement.
But Tim's heart was beating too fast, now. And his answers were too slow. His only protection was that Jason couldn't see Tim's eyes under his mask. He couldn't see how Tim's gaze kept drifting down ti Jason's lips.
"More of an orchids guy," Tim artfully dodged the real question.
Or maybe, he answered it in his own indirect way.
"Orchids, then." Jason nodded in a way that made Tim wonder if he'd accidentally just shook hands with the devil. "They'll be red just for you, Red Robin." He put force into the way he said Tim's name, looking him up and down. "You look cute in my suit, by the way. But I think you'd get your point across better if you just wrote 'property of Red Hood' on your forehead."
"That is not why I'm Red Robin and you know it-"
Jason cut Tim off by abruptly dropping him, then punching Tim hard in the gut. Tim groaned and doubled over, accidentally resting his head on Jason's shoulder. Before Tim could pull away from the compromising position, Jason grabbed Tim's shoulder and held him there, going in for another punch, this time to Tim's ribs.
It knocked the wind out of Tim's lungs. He gritted his teeth and ignored the groan that broke free from his throat.
"Told you I was keeping the punches," Jason said with utter nonchalance. "If you ask me, fucking you up and fucking you can be the same thing. You're just not thinking big enough."
Tim bit back a swear. "Think I'm a masochist or something?"
Jason dared to laugh. "I know it." He grabbed Tim's jaw with the same hand that was just punching Tim and tilted it up. He leaned down and for a second Tim froze. Instead of a proper kiss though, Jason just brushed his lips against Tim's cheek.
Tim tried to ignore the feeling in his chest that was disturbingly close to disappointment.
"See you around, Red," Jason hummed. Then he let TIm go. "Here's a gift for the road." A short shive was slammed into Tim's hip. Dangerously close to Tim's crotch. As close as Jason could've gotten without cutting Tim's dick off, even.
Tim swore. He grabbed the hilt of the blade and pulled it out. The wound was so shallow he wasn't even sure if it would need stitches. His suit was thick enough to have protected him from the brunt of it. Blood was still trickling out of the wound and sharp pain danced through his veins, reminding him exactly what he'd gotten himself into.
When he looked up, Jason was gone.
The feeling in his chest was definitely disappointment. Tim sighed and slipped Jason's shiv into his belt. He could think about this later.
When Tim got home hours later, he was sore and tired. He went through the motions of stripping his armor, showering, and tending his wounds so robotically that he barely noticed his surroundings. Tim was seconds from faceplanting his bed before he froze.
In the center of Tim's ivory sheets, right on display, was a bundle of red orchids.
Or more appropriately, once-white orchids that were now dripping with crimson shades that had already stained Tim's bedding beyond repair.
When Tim carefully picked the orchids up, they were still with a liquid he knew far too well.
Blood.
A note was tied to the flowers and Tim stared at the sloppy scroll.
hard to find orchids this time of year so I had to improvise. can't say i'm not courting you now. and don't worry, it's not mine. -J
The blood not being Jason's just made Tim more worried about whose it was. Someone who was probably long dead now.
Tim's stomach should've churned over that. He should throw the orchids away. He should get a sample of the blood for a DNA test.
Instead of any of those things, Tim found himself smiling. He carefully carried the orchids over to his kitchen. To preserve them, he put the flowers in his freezer while he thought about how he would handle Jason's inevitable next confrontation. Somehow, Tim found himself humming a love song he didn't know the lyrics to.
If TIm had gotten himself into this game, he wasn't going to let Jason be the only one playing it.
He had punches to throw too.
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heyhihellosworld · 1 year ago
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𝐒𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐫
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Charles Leclerc x reader
Word count: 2.8k
Summary: Your Charles supporter in every high and low, always there to celebrate and help him in every way possible
Warnings: Fluff, Smut (almost only smut), a little angst
Notes: First time I publish any work for Charleees and this became just smut basically. I didn't really have any plot, just started with the smut so it became a little weird but anyway. I still struggle writing smut so this is not great but I feel like it's getting better every time at least
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"That was really... impressive" you smiled sarcastically, catching his annoyed face getting even more so as his eyes rolled. "Can you just not" he sighed, stopping in front of you and wiping his face off the sweat with the towel he'd received after quali.
"What, I'm just speaking facts"
Charles didn't answer that, he just narrowed his eyes before drinking big sips from his water bottle. "Seriously" you hummed, wanting to push his buttons even though you knew it wasn't the smartest seeing as he was already annoyed.
"It is impressive, crashing two days in a row. Wow, I'm just so excited to see what you will do tomorrow. Maybe crash?"
Charles let out a grunt, staring at you really unimpressed by your attitude as you gave him your famous smirk. That smirk that he hated and loved at the same time because even if it could get on his nerves in situations like these, that smirk was also the thing he loved about you.
"You know just what to say to cheer a man up huh" he spoke monotony, not even looking at you as he whipped up his phone "Oh I do" you tilled, looking at him with a teasing expression but he only shook his head.
"You know, Carlos' girlfriend hugs him or comforts him when he fails" He spoke lowly, almost accusingly as he gathered his stuff.
"Lucky Carlos" you hummed, smiling at your boyfriend who finally let out a chuckle. The frown on his beautiful face melting off and relaxing
You moved to him, erasing the meter of space between you as you wrapped your arms around his neck.
"You know I support you and I will listen to your rant all evening so I gotta have some fun as well. You know I love you and think you are the best driver in the world" you tutted, pecking his lips as he smiled "That sounded so sincere darling" he hummed making you laugh, kissing him again "It was"
Race weekends were a thrill. You loved them and hated them at the same time. Being at the grid was a vibe in itself, something hard to describe but being so close to the action also meant close to the danger. You loved racing but you hated the risks and seeing your boyfriend in the action left you with a never-ending anxiety. But you knew it was his dream so you had no choice but to support him and swallow your worries.
Ferrari was his dream but also his curse. The never-ending struggles and the pressure he put on himself made him overworked and twitchy but you also knew he loved all aspects of racing and he truly believed he could achieve great things with the team. You didn't doubt it but the road there was long and it took effort, not only from Charles and the team but for you too.
The day in honor Charles started at pole but there wasn't much denying that he had had a tough weekend so far, pole in both qualifying but also in the wall two times which of course took a lot of confidence.
The race was boring to say the least, nothing happening and Red bull being far top left little to no excitement in the top two. The real fight was between Charles and Alonso, Charles managing all the way to the podium.
You bubbled with joy as you watched him celebrate on the podium, spraying Champagne and laughing before he came down again. A large smile and Champaign covering his already sweaty face.
"You did it" you grinned, hugging him tightly as he entered the garage again. "I did, not the wall today eh" he grinned smugly, kissing you passionately before you pushed him off not wanting to be too much in the public eye.
-
You celebrated with the rest of the grid in a club that evening, not wanting to let Charles miss out on the fun just because you were there even if the Monegasque had been more tempted to stay in the hotel-room.
Charles was glued to your side the whole evening, kissing your shoulders, grabbing your ass whenever you were out of sight and always finding an excuse to touch you. Not that you were complaining but he was touchier than usual.
"What's with you today Char? Go out and party" Pierre joked, shoving his friend in the shoulder as he sat on a small couch-group with you and a couple of others. "No no, don't feel like it" Charles dismissed. "What's with him?" Pierre asked directed to you but Charles answered anyway, eyes rolling at his friend "It's nothing with me" he chuckled, shaking his head at the Frenchman who didn't let up
"He is just a bit needy" you smiled, grinning at Charles who glared at you whilst Pierre laughed out loud, raising his hands in surrender "Don't let me stand in your way mate" he chuckled, backing away winking at both of you.
"For real?" Charles sighed unimpressed, looking at you with tired eyes as you couldn't contain your laughter. "But it's true, isn't it Char?" you hummed, teasingly tracing your fingertips up over his thigh, smirking at the way his breath hitched when your fingers danced over his bulge.
"Maybe" he murmured, shoving your hand away with a warning glare.
"It's nothing wrong with it baby" you grinned, mocking him with your expression.
"Shush you" he muttered, shoving you away from him whilst you laughed.
It didn't take long for Charles to run out of patience, especially not since you seemed to find a way to tease him in every way possible so when you arrived at the hotel it didn't surprise you when he immediately attacked you with kisses, eyes asking you to help him out.
-
"Aww" you mocked, a pout on your lips as you jerked him off faster "you're so needy baby" you hummed. Every time your hand went to his tip your thumb slid over his tip making him release the most amazing sounds.
He looked so beautiful when he was like this. All needy and vulnerable for you. His eyes were hooded, lips parted and his brow furrowed in concentration. A thin layer of sweat covered his body as he tried to let you do your thing despite his itching muscles and need to touch you.
He was close, you could clearly tell by the way his things tensed and bucked into your hand. "Y/n, baby, please" he gasped out, only making you speed up your movements. When your other hand made its way to gently touch his balls he was gone.
He threw his head back, eyes rolling as he stuttered out moans, quickly coming undone. The thought about stopping crossed your mind but the look on his face, begging you to not, made you finish him off.
Your lips hushed the sounds coming from his lips loud enough to be heard to the rooms around you and you knew he would be teased to death the next day if they heard him.
"Yes Charlie, that's it, come for me" you whispered, his eyes closing as he came over his stomach, body trembling as he breathed hard trying to catch his breath.
He stayed in the same position for a while, trying to stabilize his breath as you observed him. Sometimes you couldn't believe that out of all the people on this earth he chose you to be with, looking at him like this made you feel like he was something extreme. So beautiful you couldn't even describe it, lips parted, eyes hooded and skin shimmering in the late evening-light.
Soon enough he started to move, breaking you out of your little bubble. He got up on his knees, wraling the small way it was to where you were sitting crossed legged just right beside him before he gently pushed you down on the soft mattress. The playful grin he had on his face made you giggle as you fell on your back, inviting him to get on top of you.
"Stop laughing" he pouted, seemingly offended but the smile he couldn't hide betrayed him. "Sorry sorry" you smiled, patting his shoulder reassuringly as he hovered over you.
His smile mirrored yours, his dreamy eyes smiling too. "Wanna take care of you too" he murmured, his breath fanning your ear.'making you shiver. "Do whatever you want" you softly hummed back, gently running your fingers through his soft hair.
The way his eyes fell shut at the sensation and his neck craned into your touch made it clear that you were the one in charge tonight, he wanted you to take charge and he'd happily obey.
You let him be for a second, his lips kissing over your shoulder and neck as his fingers teasingly traced your panties. Fingers dipping into the waistband before disappearing to gently caress the soft skin on your tummy. When you let out a grunt of annoyance he immediately threw a glance at you, smirking as he got the memo.
You couldn't help but to let out a moan as his fingers finally dipped down into your panties. His slick fingers spread your wetness around before gently playing small precise circles on your clit. He loved watching your face whenever he was touching you, relishing in pride that he made you feel that way, that he could make you cum and become fuzzy for him.
His fingers found your entrance, slowly flicking into you making your mouth fall open. Your body wriggle around, trying to get away from his skillful fingers as it felt too good. His thumb connecting to your clit made the dam break as you pushed his hand away. Challenging him with your look as he whined, wanting to make you cum.
He immediately fell quiet when he saw your look, your hand wrapping delicately around his throat as you kissed over his jaw. "What was that huh?" you hummed, feeding on the sound he let past his lips. "Nothing" he hummed quickly, eyes fleeting over you as a wicked smirk crawled over your face. You loved this power-balance you had. Having Charles dominate you was always bound to be thrilling but you also loved being the one in charge. Having him following your demands was a rare type of power, of course built on complete trust. But you also loved how you sometimes didn't need to have any power, you could just be you, together.
Today was your chance to take the reins though, feeling like it had been a while since you did last since Charles had gone through a period of wanting control, which you didn't mind at all but it did feel great to take charge now.
Your fingers tightened slightly around his throat, not hard enough to choke him for real, just to mark your dominance.
"Thought so" you smirked, flipping him around so you were on top. You gave him a cheeky smile as your mouth trailed a path of kisses down his chest and over his navel, kissing over his abs and v-line as he breathed hard. Your mouth graced over his rock-hard dick but you ignored it for the time being, wanting to tease him slightly.
"Y/n please" he pleaded, hips rutting to get close to your mouth but you just chuckled, pressing his hips down on the sheet as you licked over his abs. "What is it baby?" you hummed in a mocking tone, innocent eyes blinking up at him as you licked up his chest before hanging your face close to his.
"What do you want, Charlie?" you hummed again, breathing over his face because you knew it drove him crazy, along with calling him Charlie that you knew turned him on when in this situation. "Want you to touch me, fuck me, please" he hurried out, his hands gripping onto your hips hard.
"Aww are you needy again" you teased, kissing over his cheek as he tried to calm down his shallow breathing. "Please y/n" he whined, trying to position you over his dick with his hands but you only tutted at him "No no" you chuckled, slapping his hands away.
He looked so fragile and vulnerable in the way he laid there, trying to obey your wishes whilst fighting to not break. His eyes were glossy, body twitchy and lips swollen from biting at them. You took pity on him as he wriggled, uncomfortably hard and face contorting.
"Aw baby, look at you" you mocked, wrapping your fingers around his dick softly which made him gasp out a moan, eyes squeezing together.
"Fuck, I hate when you are bratty like this" Charles moaned out, making you chuckle at him, smirking cheekily. "You do?" you teased, jerking him off slightly quicker, relishing in the sharp breath he breathed in before letting his head fall back into the pillows
"I really do, but I love it too" he murmured, biting his lip so hard it would draw blood "Oh I know you do Charlie, the submissive part of you love to be under my mercy. But the dominant part wants to punish me, doesn't it?"
"It really does" he gritted out as your thumb rubbed over his sensitive tip "Oh but I know you love this so much right now Char, just laying here and taking what I give you, letting me control you" your voice was thick, seductive and sweet as sugar as he nodded "I do love it"
You chuckled again, slowly stroking him before stopping completely not wanting him to cum like this.
You kissed his lips sweetly, his lips melting into yours as you lined him up with you, slowly rubbing his dick over your wetness. When you started to sink down on him he broke the kiss, gasping in symphony with you as you sank down all the way, taking him to the hilt.
"Fuck baby" he moaned, blinking quickly as you stroke his cheek, breathing heavily into his neck, your hips moving in circles, letting yourself get used to him.
After a few seconds of kissing and snogging you sat up so you straddled him for real, your hands planted firmly on his strong chest as you started to move more firmly on him.
His hands on your hips simply stayed still, you not letting him control your movements as you quickened your pace before slowing down, rolling your hips to create the best pattern for both of your pleasure.
Both of your moans bounced around in the hotel-room. No longer being able to think long enough to cover either of your mouths as the sounds got stronger and louder the longer you rode him.
"Fuck fuck y/n, I'm close, please" he blabbered, blinking up at you with the most pleasure struck look you'd ever seen on him. "It's okay baby" you hummed, going faster over him, slamming your hips down on his every time he bottomed out inside of you.
"A-are you close?" he asked softly. You nodded, stilling your hips for a moment as you took a grip on his hand, leading it to your pussy and firmly placing his fingers on your clit. Charles didn't need more instructions than that as you started moving again, rubbing firm precise circles over your clit in the way he knew drove you crazy, and tonight was no different.
It got harder to move smoothly as you felt your orgasm approaching quickly, your head dropping as your moans became louder. Your eyes found his, asking him to help you and he understood, meeting your thrusts with his own making him feel even bigger and reach even deeper inside of you. You angled your hip, trying to hit the perfect spot and when you did find it, it didn't take long for your eyes to roll as your orgasm flooded over you, taking Charles with you as he moaned out loud, not caring anymore.
It took a few minutes for you both to calm down and regain your normal breath. You lead him to the shower, taking turns in gently washing each-other to get rid of the sticky feeling of sex.
You wrapped yourself in his arms, peppering his face with kisses as he chuckled, wrapping you tightly to his chest. "Love you amor" he whispered, his characteristic smile playing on his lips. "Love you to Char" you hummed, stroking beads of hair out of his tired face "Love you even if you drive in to the wall" you smiled, catching his eyes roll before chuckling in defeat "as long as you don't hurt yourself of course" you added, kissing his nose sweetly.
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cheriladycl01 · 5 days ago
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Kinktober 31/10/2024 The Grid - Halloween Party
Plot: Halloween Party Couple Costumes
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MAX VERSTAPPEN:
You both went to the party as the characters from Kill Bill, it was one of Max's favorite films and you were excited to dress up as the Bride. Originally you were going to go for the full latex outfit but because Max had a few parties in the same night you'd both be travelling between you had to do a bit of makeshift work.
"You look hot" he says looking over you as you unzip the bright yellow top you had on, just to show off a little more cleavage for him.
"Yeah?" you ask pulling the katana up and holding it in positions being goofy as he took some pictures of you.
"And i think dying your hair blonde ... good shout" he grins running his hands through your freshly dyed blonde locks just so you could pull of this Halloween costume without a wig.
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LANDO NORRIS:
You wanted to be funny and go as Gru and Vector ... but no McLaren thought it was too 'silly' and wasn't a 'good image' for Lando as a now championship contender.
So you guys decided as you were only going to a small Quadrant Haloween party that you guys would go lowkey and just try and use as much stuff as you could from home.
Naturally you were both at home when he had the idea of both going as the game characters from Subway Surfers, out of all the games both you and Lando played you didn't expect to go as mobile game characters, something from Valorant or even Tarkov but no here you were with a red beanie, hitched up red underwear under low rise jeans and an empty aerosol can.
"Cant believe you convinced me into this" you shake your head, knowing all the girls there would be going as either really hot people or would be very funny like you'd intended ... but at least you were with Lando and you guys both couldn't escape the costume police you knew would be at the party.
"You love me babe now come on lets go jump some trains"
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OSCAR PIASTRI:
When Oscar had met you when he first came to England you made of point of forcing him to binge your comfort show, Peaky Blinders with you which led to this years Halloween costume for the both of you.
While Oscar was the gentleman and got his outfit as show accurate as possible you took the hot slant on it despite having a shirt, waistcoat and jacket covering up the majority of your upper body leaving your legs to do all the hot girl work.
"We look good" Oscar smiled looking at you guys in the long full length mirror in your apartment as you guys were about to leave.
"You're right we do" you smile reaching up to kiss his cheek forgetting the bright red lipstick that was covering your lips.
"AH AH. Let them dry first" he says putting his finger on one showing the stain.
When you got to Logan's party you were met with such a different vibe. You and Oscar had decided to stay in America for Halloween which was a good choice as they were crazy for any kind of holiday celebration.
"Will anyone here know who we are?" you ask wondering if you're costume was too niche.
"Lets hope they don't, quick and easy conversations so we don't look rude and unimpressed" he kisses the side of you head, knowing how introverted you both are/
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CARLOS SAINZ:
Of course you had to go as young Morticia and Gomez Addams. It was something you knew for a fact Carlos would look incredible in and you had the perfect features to pull of Morticia.
You guys were attending a Halloween Party that actually had a lot of the drivers at, it was in a club that had invited you all as a brand deal with F1 and you guys all didn't really have an excuse not to go.
You guys got an uber, which is a strange experience when you have a boyfriend who drives for a living.
So many of the other wags were there and a costume competition had been held which you and Carlos had ended up winning, you think Lando most defiantly forged the votes but you couldn't deny that you and Carlos looked like you both put the most amount off effort in.
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CHARLES LECLERC:
Charles didn't ever really understand the hype for spooky season, enjoying other more family oriented holidays more such as Christmas or even birthdays.
But when you said that your sister was hosting a small party (that of course ended up being not so small at all) that she was dying for you to make an appearance at you had to go despite the late notice.
So there you guys were two days before ironing patches to blue and red tops you'd brought from the most accessible shops in Monaco and because you were bringing Charles and you wanted to match but with the lack of time options were thin.
So of course doing a really bad attempt at Sally and Lightening McQueen was the option Charles decided on and everyone at the party found you guys so funny especially once they realised who Charles was as a famous racing driver.
To say despite the 5 minute crafts outfit you guys put together you were everyone's choice of conversation both at the party and after.
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YUKI TSUNODA:
Chef Linguine, absolutely not Chef Tsunoda and you as his Remi. It meant you got to dress up as a sexy mouse while Yuki could live his dreams of being a chef, dressing up in the whole outfit that you were surprised to see he just had in his closest already.
"You look like a cute mouse" he smiles looking over the white corset and sort grey skirt you'd opted for.
"Do i make a good Remi?" you ask sweetly and he nods.
"I still don't get why you didn't go as Collette" he sighs, thinking it would be odd for him to kiss you tonight when this was your outfit.
"Because canonically Collette is a better chef than Linguine because actually Linguine cannot cook without the rats help ... so I'm still not sure why i went as the rat. Maybe i should have gone as Chef Skinner" you groan now overthinking the whole costume.
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FRANCO COLAPINTO:
Franco's nickname for you was 'princesa' so of course you going as one of the Disney Princesses made sense however when he said you guys should do Flynn Ryder and Rapunzel you almost lost your shit.
You were going to suggest the little mermaid as you'd love to see him in Prince Eric's soft pirate outfit but the Flynn outfit was just as exciting and you of course looked great in purple and could use your naturally blonde hair.
"Are you ready my Princesa?" he asks from the bottom of the stairs. You were expecting to turn round the corner with a soft graceful smile to see HIM awestruck at your costume.
Unfortunately god had other plans and it was you who was gobsmacked at your incredibly sexy boyfriend.
"Fuckkkkk Francoooo. Lets skip the party" you say running down the stairs to grip onto his arm.
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FERNANDO ALONSO:
As an older couple on the grid who still loved a party and having fun you and Fernando decided old school was the best way forward. And for Fernando seeing you in sexy leather pants and a tight black top he was all but happy to keep pulling you away for sneaky kisses once you'd got to the club.
Nando was normally very ... sexually driven but this outfit of yours had turned him into some kind of beast and you were not complaining.
Especially when you guys got home that night.
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ESTEBAN OCON:
Being the Marvel nerd that he was he'd asked if he could do Deadpool and you do Wolverine, which you did want to at first but when you couldn't find the right hairstyle and decided the outfit just didn't look good this year it fell through to be picked up another year.
Which is where his next idea came in, you'd both decided to go as Spiderman's he'd worn some grey joggers with him as the suit was pretty tight on him and he didn't want anything to come out in the media however you took the Spiderman look the whole way and for the whole night Estaban had to stay close to you warding off all the other guys who were watching you with what he explained to you as 'fuck me' eyes.
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Taglist:
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nicromancytarot · 9 months ago
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WHAT DOES YOUR PERSON WANT TO DO TO YOU? 18+ themes.
This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.
I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I don’t change for these readings and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I got but I pull like 20-30 cards each reading and that just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.
PICK A CARD READING
I asked my spirit guides what the person you’re thinking about would do to you if they could, this was crazy so pick a picture to find out!
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Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3
PILE 1
Bro’s fantasising, I put my music on shuffle and got this one song which triggered a memory of when I had a crush on this girl and sat in the car staring out of the window creating scenarios about her to the song lmao, so I feel as though your person may be on the same wavelength as me.
My entire body hurt during this reading, I was having full body channeling which was crazy for me, but as soon as I wrote down that my back and stomach were killing me, the pain went away, so your person may want to metaphorically break your back and possibly even get you pregnant, I was also randomly sweating like crazy so it’s gonna be steamy when they get to have you, I feel like you guys will be going for multiple rounds until both of you are absolutely exhausted and can’t take anymore.
Not going to lie, I see this being someone from the past? #Fuckexes. (Not literally.)
Firstly they may stalk your social media or keep tabs on you, I notice someone gasping at the others breasts if you have those, if they have breast than I’m pretty sure you love them, this is the type of conversation when someone can’t stop looking at the others breasts and is barely paying attention to the conversation.
They wanna watch you play with yourself, they may even want you to send them a video of you touching yourself.
For some of you I can see that they like butt-play, and they like having from behind cus they really enjoy your butt and shoulders, they may like to leave kisses or hickeys on the back of your shoulders. They may also only really see you in a room full of people romantically, but I do get senses that this person may have or might cheat if you were or get into a relationship.
PILE 2
They wanna wine and dine you prior to having sex with you, and I think that they also want to learn what you’re into and have a long winded conversation about both of your boundaries. They also really enjoy your breasts, or you enjoy theirs, I can see that either of you may want to leave a lot of kisses or hickeys there; maybe even for other people to see if you or they enjoy wearing low cut shirts and dresses.
They seem very gentle and worry about your pleasure more than their own, they do want to do some type of butt stuff with you. (What is it with the butt stuff today?) They want to eat the booty or go the full way with it.
At the end they want you to reward their hard efforts with some good ole’ head.
PILE 3
They want to offer a relationship before having sex with you, I do get the vibe that this could be a future spouse who picks you up after heartbreak as we have both the 4 of wands and the 3 of swords. This is the tile of sex that has you forgetting about all the bad things in your life and in the world.
There’s only one card in the spread where she’s not covering her stomach and it’s while she’s watching him count his money so you may only think about getting pregnant after you know they have enough money to sustain you and the baby (they do, they live a life of luxury.) Or you may show them that you have enough money before they think of allowing you to get them pregnant.
They want to take you from behind, finally we have a pile that doesn’t refer to butt-play (amen.) They’re pretty masculine so they would want to take over all of the masculine roles.
You may find them sneaking a glance at your breasts when you first meet.
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kissmetwicekissmedeadly · 18 days ago
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MO'S FANFIC BEAUTYFYING MASTERCLASS!👩‍🏫
So it seems like you guys like how I do my banners and layouts on @xxsycamore ! I wanted to share a few tips about making similar ones, along with some of my observations on their importance! Be warned, some of the screenshots I'll use to illustrate my point will be of my smut fics! This post is intended for the ikemen series community. While the tips could be found useful for other fandoms as well, it's important to note that it's only this fandom that I've taken into account and because of that my observations could be unreliable if you chose to follow my advice outside of the fandom!
The importance
First of all, a good layout is a subjective term. Second, a "good" layout is not guaranteed to boost your fic's popularity. Not all of us are able to put the time and effort into fancy banners and dividers, but the good news is, you don't really need them! You should always strive to do only as much as you can without straining yourself. Here you can see a minimal effort fic layout vs one that took 30~ minutes to put together, both posted around the same time, both having a similar reception when it comes to notes! Keep in mind that a layout is just one of the many factors to take into account for your fic's popularity status, and you shouldn't obsess with it either way.
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2. The minimum: Banner + Title
Not everyone checks out every single post on their dash while they scroll! I follow around 1100 people and while not all of them are active, it's easy to miss a post that could as well have been the best thing I'd see that day. Your brain recognizes what a typical fanfiction post looks like - a rectangular picture with a title above/underneath, followed by text. As long as you scroll past a post with a similar construction and you're interested, you might want to scroll back and check it out.
3. Banners
The information that you get from a banner is typically about the character(s) featured in the fic. Using the example above, you'll see that a simple cropped picture of the character gets the job done! (an in-game sprite at that, not a fancy card photo)
If you decide to use a card, you can browse google for a good one of your character(s). I try to select a card that depicts something similar to what's happening in my fic, either the action or the "vibes" (daytime or nighttime, outside or indoors, canon or modern, etc.), but sometimes it's better to choose the one that will look good instead of the one that's more fitting.
Finding cards of good quality is also challenging, and I'd advise you to avoid blurry/low-quality banners even if those would be best fitting.
Stick to the rectangular horizontal format if possible. I like square banners sometimes, but it's better when you can see the whole layout at once!
4. Editing the banners & photo coloring
If you decide you want to go out all, you'll need a photo editing app or a program. I use one called Snow which is mainly for selfies but gets the job done. It has many filters to choose from, but inputting text there could be a hassle sometimes. Another one I use is Pixlr. Yeah, I couldn't let it go ever since the days it was just a website...it's been about 10 years but I still rely on it (now as an app) for some stuff, like cropping down images with very big height to width ratio (like thin strips for dividers). In very rare instances I use my (paid) art program, Clip Studio Paint. I know that many people use Canva for their banners but I can't get used to it, I guess it's not my thing, haha. That's why you should see what works for you. I prefer a certain amount of limitation, like having filters to choose from, simply because I don't want to think too much about it and to be able to spend too much time on it (I'm a perfectionist)...
Maybe you just want to give your picture some nice coloring, nothing too much, just a slight change of tone that it's noticeable but not in a screaming way. There are still some things to avoid, mainly old-looking filters. I'm talking about the ones that were mainstream on Instagram during the last decade, the pinkish sepia one for instance. Ones that have too high exposure value and make the bright parts practically glow are not a good look either, same for the too dark ones. Making the character unrecognizable is also not good, and some filters can do that, especially in the case where they have fair hair and the filter makes it appear as another color. Again, those examples are bad only in my own opinion and could look good in certain circumstances or if it's a desired look!
Here's the collage for the banner used for my fic Nine Nights (MDNI) before the filter (first picture), a variation I did but scrapped (second pic) and the one I went with in the end (third pic). While the bottom pic is in contrast with what I said about making characters unrecognizable, here I rely on the fact that it's enough that it's obvious this will feature all of the Crown members just by looking at the bunch of them. I liked how the colors pop up, almost as if each one gets assigned a theme color (interestingly I didn't pick the cards for that purpose), and it's just a pretty coloring in my opinion as a whole. I achieved this by tweaking the RGB values from the "Curves" tool in Snow.
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Another cool thing to do with your banner is adding transparent elements in it, like how I did with this one (see it from the link below, it's not depicted here on the pics). The thing is, this could be very energy-consuming, you'll need an app/program that can do that as not all of them work with transparent images, and in the end, it could be just barely noticeable. But it can be fun from time to time.
5. Titles
A title is the other main element of your fic's layout and it should stand out. If you hate coming up with titles (understandable...) you can just put a "(character) x reader fluff", for instance. If you look at the example in point 1, I simply used the character's name in place of a title! It doesn't have to be a stressful aspect of putting your fic out there. As a side note, you can try centering your title simply by putting some spaces at the front, but leaving it aligned to the right could be a stylistic choice.
6. Colored text
This one is very optional but good if you want to fancy it up. Tumblr already gives you a bunch of colors to pick from and you can make use of them if they fit the style of your fic, but they're very limited. Luckily we can use just any color we want. (This only works on the fonts tumblr supports! The ones you can choose from when you highlight a text) Unfortunately, the way to do this will make you work with the HTML editor which you can access at the top right corner of your post editing screen (from desktop, click the settings, scroll down to Post editor) and things might seem pretty scary if this is your first time looking there. It's not too hard! You need to use a site that takes your desired piece of text, lets you select colors, and then gives you a code that once pasted in the HTML editor will make it colored when switching back to the Rich text editor. Here's the one I use because it also allows me to blend colors. At the bottom right of the page, I put the text in the first box, select the colors, and upon clicking Run it gives me the code in the bottom box. I use colored text for my title, and sometimes for my information tags.
7. Information tags
This is how I refer to the part of your layout dedicated to showing the pairings, genre, content warnings and wordcount of your fic. This is all optional even to add in the first place. I personally don't bother too much with beautifying that part, but a good tip is using some kind of symbol to separate these pieces of information if they're all in the same paragraph (I use big dots), or to place in front of them if they're in different rows (like bullet points). This gives a lot of creative freedom for text art, you should explore it if that's your thing!
8. Fonts & font size
You can experiment with Tumblr's fonts, or you can look for more fonts online - here's a handy site. It's good to find one that is legible enough. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞. Again, be warned, those fonts that are outside of tumblr's post editor cannot be colored (as far as I'm aware of)
You can spell your title in all caps if you deem that's a good look for your fic.
Play around with bolds and italics instead of making everything a different font.
The "Biggest" font option here on the editor is not the best one to use as it's simply too big. Big title fonts should be avoided if your title doesn't fit in a single row.
Having different font sizes for different things in your layout can be eye-catching! Besides the obvious upscaling of the title, you can also upscale your information tags. Using small text is also nice and prevents your post from getting too long, but this should only be done for the part of the fic that is not the fic itself. Small text could be harsh on the eyes if it's in big quantities.
9. Dividers
Dividers are another crucial part of a fancy layout! They divide different parts of your layout, like the information tags and the fic's body. There are tons of styles to choose from. Some people like to use dividers that spell out something, like a "minors DNI" warning, a "support your creatives" reminder, the name of the character featured in the fic... You can make your own set of dividers for repeated use. I like to use very thin lines which I color differently according to the fic's theme colors. I also find dividers online, mostly here on tumblr, as there are tons of them if you look them up. It's important to use dividers which are marked free to use, or to otherwise credit their creators.
10. Additional tips
Use gifs. Everything that moves is eye-catching. But don't go overboard with it - one or two moving objects on your layout is plenty. They shouldn't be put too close to the fic's body too, as people might find it distracting. Avoid flashing and glitching gifs, or if you use those and you deem it necessary, tag the post with an epilepsy warning. You can make your banners into gifs by putting a moving filter on them, making it into a video, and turning the video into a gif (the site I use for this is called ezgif and it has plenty of other options for working with gifs and videos), and you can also make or find gif dividers.
Banner themes are nice, but they don't always look good. I'm talking about making a series of banners (like for a bunch of fics made for the same creative challenge) look the same, with the same coloring and filters. I used to make all my banners purple to follow my blog's tumblr theme but I realized not everyone looks good in purple...
Try adding a synopsis for your fic! I know, this is worse than coming up with a title, but we love flipping the book over to look at the synopsis before jumping into it. Keep it very short and try beautifying it with symbols or fancy quotation marks.
Use the "intended" font from the tumblr post editor to make your information tags or synopsis stand out and shrink the overall length of the post!
Put the body of your fic under a "read more" (the last option when you hit a new row in the post editor). This is very important, especially if you're writing smut - you wouldn't want to make people scroll through all of that if they're not in the mood for it. Putting your whole fic on the dash doesn't make it more likely for people to stop and read it, or at least that's just how I see it.
Use emojis! Emojis stand out!
Take inspiration from other people. Get out of your bubble and look at how other fandoms do it, but obviously don't steal.
11. Final thoughts
Making this post felt weird to me! I was motivated by my mutuals complimenting my layouts but also because some of them said "they can't do that" and I wanted to show them it's easy. I also wanted to show them it's not that important and that they shouldn't stress over it at all! At the end of the day it's your fic that matters, not how pretty you can make it work. But instead of simplifying it, I ended up with this massive post of 11 parts, and now it looks scarily big. It's not, okay! I went too much into detail at times, and I want to stress once again that it's all optional anyway. I, personally, don't follow all of this advice. I don't go through the 10 steps of constructing my layout every time I'm about to post a fic. I typically post my fics just before going to bed, and 99% of the time I need it to happen ASAP because it's that late in the night. It's a way to beat my perfectionism, really, and I find it to work for me. I also already have these steps tested and memorized so it all happens quickly and mechanically for me. Making the layout is extremely fun for me and this is my sole driving force for putting in the effort. At the same time, I remind myself not to go overboard because it's stupid to focus on it more than on the fic itself. I love ao3 because everything looks equal on there, but I also love tumblr because I can unleash my creativity in one additional way.
In the process of making this post, I started to wonder if it seems like I'm making this out to be way more important and difficult than it really is, and I want to assure you that this is not my intention at all!
My only hope is that this proves to be helpful for whoever feels like they can use some of the information above. If it leads to just 1 additional note to those criminally underrated fics I see, then I'd be beyond happy!
Have fun posting your fics :)
56 notes · View notes
silverzoomies · 1 year ago
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Great Pumpkin
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peter maximoff x reader smut
warnings: shameless smut, smut, kissing, porn with plot, halloween, drunk sex, halloween party, porn with feelings, use of the speech quirk "yer"
word count: 7,878
a/n: meant to finish this one before halloween. whoops !! at least november is the spook before christmas !! or halloween 2, electric boogaloo !!
some notes about this one: i wanna apologize for the needless plot. i know it's unnecessary, but i got a little carried away. if anything feels awkward, out of place, or weird? that's my bad. sorry. i was havin' too much fun writing the less smutty stuff. some other notes - think of this as an au, i guess. where erik is hiding out at xavier's for...reasons? idfk. sitcom logic. everyone's living together !! but there's tension !!
tag list: @dewberryobssesed @violetharmonscupcake @kaismanwich @jellyluvr @icannot3 @taintandviolent @ahoyladiesz @scene-and-dandylover @quickandsilvers @luttic @billielourdslays
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All Hallows Eve.
Prior to the X-Family’s spooktacular bash, Hank whipped up a little something special. Using his Einstein brain - or wizard sorcery. Peter couldn’t be too sure - the beastly scientist conjured a powerful inebriant. He heard Peter joke one too many times about his inability to get drunk. Since the speedster’s body filtered through substances at break-neck speed. Leaving not a second’s worth of intoxication time.
No exaggeration there. Peter once tried chugging his mom’s entire stash of liquor, along with a bottle of Purple Toad wine. Some really fruity stuff. Such a mass of booze only left a burn in his throat, along with an onslaught of nausea. All of which lasted 0.2 seconds.
Hank wanted to do Peter a favor for all his hard work lately. And now, he could finally participate in what he missed out on. After all these years. As long as he didn’t use the substance for any nefarious purposes. Per Hank’s request. Whatever that meant. Not like Peter planned on playing pranks at this year’s party. C’mon…really? He’s a teacher, for Geddy’s sake! He's gotta set a good example.
Spoiler alert: he had planned on it. Keyword being had.
Until the inebriation actually kicked in. For the first time in his unconventional life, a warm buzz pooled through Peter’s bloodstream. One of the major side effects? Debuffs to superspeed. Which proved an otherworldly experience. If not a little uncomfortable. Still worth it, for a one-night-only lesson in drunkenness.
Peering lazily into his red solo cup, Peter blinked. His eyes followed swirls of neon cyan. Luminous in its irradiated glow. He couldn’t comprehend the science behind Hank’s glowstick booze. But he knew it filtered through his body at a much slower rate than other substances. The drink felt syrupy on his tongue, and tasted like - coincidentally enough - candy corn. Its effects proved weaker than Peter expected. 
Given his cells operated so incomprehensibly fast, Peter didn’t find this too surprising. So, what? He’d never get frat party wasted. Oh well. Peter came to accept that fact about himself forever ago. Still, fluorescent booze made him mellow enough to slow down a lot. Peter could totally vibe with mellow. No complaints there. Mellow’s copacetic. He definitely owed Beastie for his magic potion of slow-mo. Peter oscillated between a nice, tipsy balance. Muddled enough to let loose and enjoy himself. But conscious enough to avoid making any ultra stupid decisions.
Or, he thought so, anyway.
Hobbling around the mansion, Peter pushed through crowds of partygoers. All dressed in their spookiest, sexiest, or most low-effort costumes. Twinkles of orange and violet lights kept the mansion somewhat lit. With spoOoOoOoOoky decorations scattered amongst the school. A perfectly campy atmosphere for Halloween. Oh. And those decorations? All Peter’s doing. Of course, it’s no surprise the professor deemed him prime event decorator. He took mere microseconds to spice up an entire plot of land. Throwing forth all his effort, Peter dressed the building in balls-to-the-walls, haunting decor. 
Fake spiders with prickly fur lay strewn about in random places. Ghosts made of old, torn sheets swayed in the breeze. Skeletons hanged by the dozens. Streamers of orange and faded black dangled from the ceilings and doorways. String lights lined the mansion’s trim. Outside on the grounds, Peter even garnished the grass with inflatable Snoopys.
During his decorative escapades, he cracked jokes to the kids. Peter asked, “You guys think the Great Pumpkin’ll show up?”
They squealed with laughter, stomping their little feet. Candy buckets in hand, the kids yelled, “Mr. Maximoff, the Great Pumpkin’s not real!!”
In the midst of rearranging another Snoopy, he gasped, “WHAT?! He is too real!! Better not let him hear you say that!” 
A haunted trail veered off into the woods surrounding the mansion. It led to an old barn, stocked full of hay and populated with jack-o-lanterns. All carved by the mutant kiddos themselves. Another set of glittering lights decorated the barn, creating an autumn glow. A pair of giant speakers - Peter paid for them, mind you - roared Halloween tunes over the entire property.
Cool stuff. Talk about a hell of a set-up. Peter couldn’t help but be proud of himself. Such a slew of decorations might put even Scrooge Mcduck himself in holiday spirits.
Wait. No. What? Scrooge Mcduck? Wasn’t he more of a Christmas thing? Fuck. Peter might be more mixed up than he thought. He gazed absentmindedly into his red solo cup again. Blinking slowly, he wondered…what the hell did Hank put in this disco concoction anyway?
Whatever. By the end of the night, Peter hoped the kids got a kick out of his hard work. Not that he broke a sweat putting it all together or anything. But he wanted to live up to his awesome teacher reputation. The highest of honors, really. No way he’d let anyone else trump him on that front.
Then again… Peter nibbled his lip, grinning to himself like a huge doofus. He took another long swig of his drink. Candy corn sweetness tickled his taste buds.
Okay. So, he might’ve had someone else in mind while he decorated. Somebody he desperately wanted to impress. A lot. Or, just a little bit, actually. Like, on a microscopic level. Maybe.
That somebody? You. Except, not really. No way.
Pffffttt…he definitely didn’t do it for you. C’mon! Why would he? Think of the kids! Those precious, lil demon spawn! They practically worshiped him. They’re what it’s all about, right? Riiiight.
Peter’s holiday decorations tempted any passing trick-or-treaters to drop by. And the professor prepared quite the spectacle of treats for them too. King sized, candy bars and all. Hank and Raven - showing off their mutant glory without an ounce of shame - passed the candy out to children. 
Human children.
Magneto - still unaware he had a son sprinting around the mansion on any given day - dubbed the gesture hopeless naivety. Or something along those lines. Inviting humans to join in on a night of mutant fun? Totally bogus. Which…yeah. From Erik’s perspective? Fair enough.
“You think they’ll learn to accept you through meaningless, holiday gestures?” Erik griped, arms crossed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Raven merely rolled her eyes. She made a comment about the inherent innocence of children. Erik didn’t appear to care. He groused some more after that. But Peter didn’t hear much of it. Nor did he imagine he even wanted to. At least, not tonight. Maybe once Peter sobered up a bit, he wouldn’t mind lending an ear. If his father ever felt the need to open up about his woeful turmoil.
But Erik disappeared upstairs. Out of sight. Still in hiding, all alone. Poor dude.
Unlike his misguided papa, Peter didn’t mind human inclusion so much. One: because he considered himself a pretty open minded guy. Easy to say, since he didn’t harbor anything remotely comparable to his father’s trauma. 
And two, on a less serious note: Human girls. They gravitated towards Peter like moths to a flame.
Throughout the mansion, the theme to Killer Klowns from Outer Space rang. Conversations buzzed around Peter like radio static. Candy corn booze made it impossible for him to comprehend them. Some partygoers played wallflower. Idling by snack tables, feasting on as much junk food as their stomachs could handle. It took every ounce of restraint Peter had, not to raid those tables himself.
Peter’s Terminator costume wasn’t much of a costume at all, really. It left most of the ladies confused. He didn’t recognize half the costumed cuties who pulled him in for dances. But they sure as hell recognized him. When another pretty girl pressed herself against him - tits bouncing, and bare thighs rubbing his pants - she’d ask the dreaded words, “What’re youuuu supposed to be?” Twirling her hair and giving Peter fluttery bedroom eyes.
Peter gave the same responses every time. Covered head to toe in black clothing, wearing a pair of sunglasses; he raised a prop shotgun from his back, responding with his best Arnold impression.
“I’ll be back.” Right on the money, Peter thought in his buzzed haze. Totally accurate. One to one.
If the girlies didn’t get the reference? So be it. Peter ultimately felt like a massive dork. But he got some sexually charged groovin’ out of it. A bit of groping here or there. He didn’t mind taking the L, if it meant grabbing some ass in the process.
But as the party clamored on, Peter knew he wanted only one thing.
To find you. Just to hang out, catch up, and have an innocent time. No other reason. Seriously. Honest. Why else would he wanna find you? To mess around a little bit? Nahhh. Why would he wanna fool around with you? And risk a long term friendship? He couldn't have that.
Not when you carried enough patience to put up with his day-to-day bullshit. Always listening to his senseless ramblings. Even if he spoke too fast for you to keep up.
During his lunch breaks on school days, Peter usually spent time with you. The two of you talked in the kitchen, or chillaxed in the lounge. Those chats? The highlight of his day. As corny as it seemed. He just couldn’t resist you and your kindly wiles. The wiles of his colleague. His…very pretty colleague. His…very pretty… platonic colleague.
Someone please end his misery now.
Peter wandered aimlessly. He danced his heart out and chatted up some more cute gals. Soon enough, he found you. Leaned over a set of snack tables, you picked through sugary sweet treats. Peter noticed the way you swayed in place. A little heavy footed like him, eh? He snickered to himself, sneaking up behind you. 
Lacking any filter or restraint, Peter blatantly gawked at your ass. A fitted, white gown draped your body. Flowing in an angelic fashion, it harmonized with your every curve. Even tipsy, Peter recognized your costume the microsecond he saw it. Princess Leia. Star Wars. Episode IV. Very sexy. Beyond sexy, even.
A flirtatious whistle caught you by surprise. You whirled around with a doe eyed look on your face. A kind of gaze that made his brain turn to mush. As if the alcohol hadn’t already. You licked the frosting off a funky colored cupcake, as Peter’s gaze flitted down your body. His eyes followed the smooth creases of your gown. A tasteful peek of your thigh kept his attention locked. Until the perky tease of your nipples captivated him instead.
Awesome. Amazing. 11/10. Best night ever.
“Ohmygosh!” You laughed, reaching out to touch Peter’s chest for whatever reason. Not that he minded one bit, “Peeeter, I’m sooooo sorry! I’m a little tipsy right now! It’s really unprofessional!”
Scarlet bloomed in his cheeks, burning hot enough to make him dizzier. Peter ogled you like the last Twinkie on the planet. A dollop of frosting caught the plush of your lip. You swirled it away with your tongue. Drawing in a hitched breath, Peter blinked.
Focus. He needed to focus on anything else. Not the parts of you he wanted to be on, inside of, and all other configurations of carnality.
“And?? You wanna hear somethin’ cray-crayyy?” Peter asked, lamely slurring his words. He raised his red solo cup, waving it in a clumsy motion, “So am I, princess! I’m totally hammered. And I looooove it!” He threw his head back, belting a loud, “WHOOOOO!!” Feeling more like a free spirit than he had in years.
Moving closer, you couldn't control your laughs. You shushed Peter, keeping your hand on his chest. Patting you on the shoulder, Peter chuckled. He feigned offense, but his sizeable hand lingered on you. A thumb grazed the soft cloth of your dress. For a beat, he wondered what you looked like under it.
“Whyyyy?? Why should I keep it down, huh?? It’s a party, baby! Everybody’s yellin’!” He shrugged. Peter smirked, throwing his head back again. He shouted another, “WHOOOOO!!”
A crowd of partygoers kept their eyes on the two of you. Their gazes lingering for a little longer than necessary. You snickered again. So tipsy, you could hardly get a word in through your giggling.
“You really are drunk, oh my gosh. You’re crazy, Peter! I can’t even-” Dropping your head into his chest, you erupted in woozy huffs of laughter. Great. He loved the closeness, “Peter, sorry, I’m sooooooo-”
“Mind-blowingly hot?” Peter lazily blinked, “Because yer-...you-ohhhh, man. You look really hot. Like-” He made a meaningless gesture with his hands, shaking his head, “Like, WOW! Have you seen yourself? Someone tell ‘Ro to make it rain. ‘Cuz yer on fiiiiiiire!” He joked. Cheesy and lame, but too smashed to even care.
You scoffed, cheeks set ablaze, “Oh, please! Give me a break! Mister Terminator casanova over here. Are you trying to butter me up like you did all those other ladies?” Playfully, you pushed off his chest. Peter mourned the loss of your touch, “I saw you! Getting all handsy out there!” You said, your tone lighthearted. Still accusatory.
Somehow, you recognized his costume. That caught him a little off guard. Peter’s heart did some kinda funny, fluttery thing. Jumpy, warm, and beating beating beating in his chest. But…nah. Couldn’t be because of you. Could it? Maybe the booze did it. Yeah. Irradiated Beast hooch must’ve give him palpitations. He’d tell Hank about this side effect later.
Peter arched a silver brow, “Oh, yeah? Mmmhm. Sounds like yer just jealous. ‘Cuz the ladies find my inner Schwarzenegger, action hero totally irresistible.” Bullshit. Most of them thought he dressed as Neo from the Matrix. Wrong action movie. Peter kept talking out his ass, “I bet it drives you up a wall to see ‘em all over me like that.”
“Oh, you think? Suuure. Like Leia would ever have the hots for some dollar store Terminator.” You teased affectionately, “Likely story, Quickie.” Fuck. Quickie. He loved when you called him that. You deceived your own protests, pressing your body against Peter's.
Your nails dug into his shirt as you palmed his chest. So…you wanted to play this little game now, huh? Alright. Fine. Peter bickered back and forth with you for an indiscernible amount of time. Standing in a corner by the snack tables, away from the noisy, party bustle. Unbalanced and wobbly, Peter leaned in. Keeping you both pressed together in a way too intimate for wandering eyes.
He almost spilled his neon concoction on your dress. Exchanging giggles again, Peter lingered even closer. His lips on the cusp of reaching out for yours. But in a clouded moment of self awareness, he stopped himself short.
“D-Do you…uhhhh-” He swallowed dryly. His nerves buzzed all through his body, “Y’wanna…get outta here? Maybe go do somethin’ reallllyyyy dumb? Like-uh…maybe make a mistake you’ll regret in the morning?” Peter suggested, wiggling his brows.
You gave him another lidded look, igniting a blistering fire deep in his bones. With your body still pressed to his - bodacious and oh-so-tempting - you brought a hand up. A beat of silence passed, as you moved his sunglasses up over his hair. Silver strands fell loose. You gazed into his puppy dog eyes directly. 
“And what makes you think I’d regret it?” You asked, your voice smooth and somewhat slurred. Oh...were you being real with him right now?
Your fingers traced flirty circles over his chest. Scorching flames in Peter’s heart burned warmth through his veins. Heat gathered in his groin. Peter’s eyes widened to a planetary degree. Clutching his solo cup a little too tight, he brushed your ass with his other hand. By accident. He only intended to pull you closer. You held his intoxicated gaze. 
Peter let his lips ghost yours again, without any direct connection.
“See, that’s-uhhh…hah…that’s just the booze talkin’.” He whispered with a soft chuckle. Steadily, he pulled himself from you, “Wanna know what it’s tellin’ me?” Peter gave you another lazy grin, nibbling his lip, “Youuuuuu and meee…” He sluggishly said. He dragged you along with him. Stumbling backwards, “...should-uh…gooooo have some…adult fun, yeah? A little romp in the hay?”
Did you know he meant that verbatim? Probably not.
Moments later, Peter clumsily navigated through the party. He made a beeline for the entrance hall, holding your hand the entire way. Floundering with every step, he traversed the crowded halls. Through each doorway the two of you passed, fluttering streamers dangled above. Soft tissue brushed across your face, tickling your nose.
The streamers proved more unkind to Peter. Staggering through the last doorway, he became tangled in them. Peter tried to shake the tissue off, twisting around and flailing his arms. He cursed aloud, making a spectacle of his embarrassing predicament. Caught in a web of orange and black, he looked like a Halloween decoration all his own. The streamers wrapped around his body and arms, even covering his head.
“MOTHER FU-” He cursed, jerking the tissue down with a rough tug. Peter tripped forward in the process. But he caught himself just in time. Compensating for his humiliation, he laughed, “I’m okay! I’m okay! Allllll good, guys. I’m good. Totally good! Meant to do that, actually.” Peter cleared his throat. He averted his glassy gaze from any partygoers nearby.
One of them being Hank, who stood alongside Raven. The two shared a few drinks and quietly chatted. The big, beast of man wore torn, red flannel. His blue fur peeked out from the undone buttons, appearing frayed. His costume? A smurf werewolf. A smurfwolf. Or something. Peter couldn't tell. And Raven? She hadn’t dressed up at all. Labeling Halloween: The one time of year she chose not to disguise herself. Why? Because, in her words, "It's funnier that way."
Raven stifled a laugh at Peter’s expense. But Hank didn’t hold himself back. He roared a rumbling chuckle, “I see the serum’s treating you well, Peter!” Hank teased, cradling a drink in his fluffy paw, “Why, it certainly looks that way. You seem to be having-uhm…fun? Yes! Fun. I'm delighted to see it!"
Peter idled in the middle of the doorway, swaying a little on his feet. Forgoing the streamers, he left them tangled around his limbs. Fuck it. His costume could use some added flair.
“I’m havin’ a-uhhhhh…a total blast, Beast my mannn!” Peter slurred. He passed Hank on his way out the mansion’s entrance. And roughly patted the scientist on the shoulder, “Thanks again, buddy ol’ pal! I owe you one!”
You giggled, beaming an elated smile as Peter dragged you out the door. Once you flew ungracefully by, Hank and Raven both did double takes. They gave you cautious looks, as if to say - uh, do you think this is a good idea? A little too sloshed, you failed to register their concern. Following Peter out the door with an inelegant skip in your step, you waved the pair goodbye.
“Well, now…that’s certainly going to be awkward for him tomorrow morning.” Hank joked, looking down at his drink. He swirled the beverage, the cup appearing itty bitty in his clutch. Showing off a crowd of snaggle teeth, he yawned.
Raven shook her head, scoffing, “Oh, it’ll bite him in the ass later. That’s for sure.” She added, sipping her own drink, “You proud of yourself?” Raven quipped, arching an orange brow. Hank held up a single claw, playful in his self defense.
“Not my fault! I gave him that serum because I thought he could have fun with it! And he is! Didn’t you see him? What he does under its influence is completely out of my jurisdiction!” Hank shrugged, stating in a matter-of-fact way, “I’ll have you know, I did try to warn him!”
In hindsight, Peter should have heeded Hank’s warnings. What he did under the effects of disco liquor proved supremely stupid. The nanosecond your feet hit the grass outside, he lost any restraint he had left. Peter kissed you full on. Ushering your sweet lips into an alcohol induced session of heavy smooching. Tongues interweaving, lackadaisical and reckless, the two of you shared careless kisses. Under decorative spider webs and amongst inflatable Snoopys.
But no Great Pumpkin in sight.
You slung your arms over Peter’s broad shoulders, letting him devour you. His sizable hands slid over your hips. He pulled you closer as he stumbled like a complete klutz. Thick fingers curled into the cloth of your dress. Caught up in the heat of the moment, Peter didn’t dare consider any consequences. With no filter to hold him back, one of his palms felt for your breast. He copped a handful, before you stopped him in his tracks. You tore your lips from his candy corn kisses.
“Heyyyy! Hey, hey, hey! Not here! What are you even doing??” You laughed, giving his nose an affectionate nuzzle, “Someone might see us, doofus!”
Peter hummed, pulling you against him in a more firm grip. He stole frantic kisses, heated and mouthy. Squeezing your hips, his nails scratched across your gown to your ass. Kneading your plush cheeks with little shame.
“So what? Let ‘em enjoy the show!” Peter snickered, diving in for yet another kiss, “I’m not gonna miss out on a chance to touch you like this. Now that I finally got you…”
Rolling your eyes, you didn’t seem to take him seriously. In an attempt to pull yourself away again, you stumbled backwards in the grass. Even with his reaction time outta wack, Peter managed to catch you before you fell. In one awkward motion, he scooped you up bridal style and carried you into the woods. The streamers coiled around his limbs came loose, at long last. Flitting away behind him in the wind.
He held you in his strong arms, following the mansion’s haunted, Halloween trail. The hayride already closed down for the night, leaving the trail - and the barn - open for some private necking.
Finding his way to the barn, Peter wobbled, slowing his stride. In his arms, you took a moment to admire the decorations he put so much effort into. Orange, twinkling lights lined the barn’s entryway. Vibrant in late night darkness. Magical, and kinda romantic. Through the trees in the distance, the garnished mansion appeared visible. A Halloweeny spectacle, engulfed in simulated fog.
Party music echoed from afar, faint, but clear enough he could hear. Peter perked up, overhearing a classic, Hallow’s eve tune.
“‘CUZ THIS IS THRILLLAHHHH!” Peter shouted off key, moving backwards into the barn. His steps were careless, “THRILLAH NIIIIGHT!” He sang, falling into a bed of cool hay. Strands of straw bounced in the air. You came down with him, and he kept singing, “AND NO ONE’S GONNA SAVE YA-” He cut himself off, leaning in to feast on your lips. Peter cradled you in his arms, humming Thriller amidst awkward kisses.
You laid bridal style over his legs, dipping your head back. Inviting Peter to devour your neck like a thirsty vampire. Without all the grace of Bela Lugosi. More like a hammered Nosferatu. If either of you had second thoughts, Peter couldn’t find it in himself to give a shit. He left that baggage behind. In the morning, sober Peter could unpack it all. Right now, he wanted his hands on your body, under your dress.
“Ohhhh~! Oh my-” You moaned, tacking on an erotic squeal of his name. Giggling in a kittenish tone. The sound made him wanna bite you harder, “W-Wait-...Peter, maybe we shouldn’t-oooooh~! Maybe we shouldn’t be-”
His sloppy kisses cut your hesitance short. Peter nodded his head in a lazy, loose motion. Bringing more dizziness upon himself.
“Mmmm? What? No-...” He hummed, “Baby, we should. We definitely should. Don’t even worry-” Peter paused for an abrupt beat. Holding you tight, he adjusted in the hay. Uncomfortable, Peter knitted his brows, “Wait-...this hay’s so-...why’s this hay so fuckin’ itchy, man?”
At the chime of your silly snorts and giggles, Peter’s words became lost on him. Whatever. It didn’t matter anymore. He couldn’t think clearly enough to recall them. Instead, he drew his attention back to you. Peter’s lips found your neck once more. Your floral scent replenished his lungs, a lifesource he desperately needed. Hot kisses peppered down your chest. In his clouded stupor, Peter buried his face between your breasts.
He loved the flustered squeal you made in response. Enough that he couldn’t help but do it again.
“Ohhhhh…hot damn, baby.” Peter groaned into your chest, motorboating your knockers. A graceless gesture. Lifting his face, his hair appeared a disheveled mess, “Yer so awesome, y’know that? Liiiike…yer really great. I know I’m pretty drunk right now, but-uhhhh…” He slurred, sneaking thick fingers under your dress, “I do mean it. No joke. I think yer really cool. Cool and-uhm…and-uh…hahaaa….I really like you.”
You erupted in more buzzed giggles, parting your lips to protest his drunken confession. But Peter silenced you with shushes, “Shhhhhhhh! Shhhhh, don’t-” He hiccuped. Your laughs were so contagious, he couldn’t help but giggle as well, “Shhhh! Don’t tell anybody!”
“I won’t! I won’t!” You chuckled, gently holding his cheeks. You pulled him down for more smooches, lips meeting in a slower embrace, “I like you too, Peter…but shhhhhh…keep it a secret.”
His fingertips danced along your inner thigh, clumsy and unsteady. Peter’s hand disappeared between your legs and under your gown. Hot digits grazed your panties. A flimsy, soaked piece of fabric awaited those digits. Breathing a low huff, Peter whispered, “Fuck.” into your neck. The steamy word tickled your skin, giving you chills.
Blindly, he wormed his fingers into your panties. Peter dipped his digits into your honeyed heat. Thick, syrupy cushions sealed around him. He focused on parting your tight walls. A little too uncoordinated to pleasure you in a more ideal way. Rough, repetitive motions curled at an awkward angle. Digging so deep, Peter could hear the squishy call of your insides - leaking wet, all for him. 
Your body tensed, knees spreading on instinct. Cool air caressed your thighs. Peering down into your lidded, baby doll eyes, he held your gaze. As your cunt pulsed around his digits, soft and constricting, he knitted his brows. Humming another groan, Peter dove down for your neck. He sucked mouthy, wet hickies into your skin. Leaving gifts for sober you to discover later tomorrow.
Speaking of sober.
Sober Peter never had trouble keeping up with anybody. Moreover, everyone else found it impossible to keep up with him. But in his buzzed daze, he could barely follow your lead. One blink, and his fingers buried themselves to the knuckle in your cunt. The next blink, you took initiative. Throwing him for a loop, you changed positions. You pushed Peter further back into the hay, straddling his lap.
As you fumbled for his jeans and pulled them open, more giggling ensued. Heated tension hung over the two of you like those glimmering, barn lights. You felt around, guiding your hand to a hot thickness in his pants. It rested in a curly bed of silver hairs, limp and untouched. Your giggles ceased, and your expression shifted.
“Peter, you’re not even-” You started, squeezing the softness of him in your hand. You gave him a few loose tugs, your voice teeming with hesitance, “Are you…are you sure you want-”
“Yeaaaahhhhh. Yeah. Yanno, it’s just-...I never thought I’d be the one gettin’ whiskey dick. Haha.” Peter joked, a low chuckle rumbling in his throat. Buzzed and uncoordinated, Peter harbored little patience for foreplay. His fingers sought for your weeping heat again. He pushed them through your soft, supple pussy lips, “Sucks a lot. I was really hopin’ I’d get to-uhmmm…ahahaaaa…” He bit his tongue, laughing, “Really wanted to show you a good fuckin’ time. But this shit feels like rocket science right now, sorry…”
Eventually, through sheer determination, you worked up enough sorcery to liven him up. Waking his cock from its soft slumber. Peter fumbled, clumsily guiding his dick to your flowery mound. It took some serious concentration on his part to do so. His tongue poked between his lips, brows furrowed tight. He leered between your sweltering bodies. Humid air clung to his skin, contrasting the sharp coolness of an October’s night. The smell of booze permeated in your sweat, mingling with the scent of your perfume. 
You sank over his cock, taking the now raging length of him fluidly. He bottomed out in a single intake of breath. Peter moaned, rolling his hips upward. Your fluttery walls stretched, cozy and soft around his dick. He dropped his head back into the hay, howling a goofy shout. It echoed through the trees, catching autumn wind.
"OHHHHHHH~! THAT'S IT! WHOOOOOO~!" He yelled. Peter chewed his lip hard, meeting your bounces with sluggish thrusts, "That's it. That's what I'm fuckin' talkin' about. Hoh-fuck..."
His rhythm was a little off beat, but he blamed the booze. Clenching the fabric of your dress in his fingers, he bunched it up tight. As if to hold you by horse’s reins, arduously guiding you on your ride.
Far in the back of his mind. Like, so far, Peter may as well have been on another planet. He had his first conflicting thought. Screwing you for the first time like this - hammered and careless - struck him as kind of…wrong. Really, he should have waited it out, and done this sober. But Peter couldn’t deny himself either.
"Peter, ohhh~! Feels really good~!" Your squeals of erotic, but sluggish pleasure sounded too much like music. Now cemented as one of his all time favorite songs, "Sooo good, I-aaahhh~!"
The bubbly feeling brought upon by Beast liquor made his body burn with ecstasy. His cock throbbed inside you, loving the tight embrace of your walls. Pleasure burned to an incomprehensible level of intensity. 
Even your dress felt unreasonably soft on his skin. Peter moaned again, drilling your cunt in unsteady surges of carnal bliss. He breathed thickly, the air between the two of you now sweltering. Choking on air, he kept his slow pace. His cock dug tunnels through your walls at a slacking speed. Completely unnatural for him. But overflowing with intoxication, he thrived in it.
“N-Not gonna-” Peter laughed. His voice a rough, breathless mess of incoherency. Sticky heat flushed his cheeks, and his tone wavered, “‘M not-...god…not gonna last. Fuck. Oh my fucking-” He swallowed another groan, suffocating on it. Peter’s hips rolled, their movement leisurely, “Sooooo tight. Feels like yer tryna-...like yer gonna-...aaaahaaaaafuck.”
Playing with your pearly clit, you squealed. The swollen nub burned, tingling as you circled it. With difficulty focusing, Peter brought his head up. He watched your little fingers while you pleasured yourself. His lidded, dark eyes stared, so spacy, so clouded. A growl caught in the back of his throat. You toyed with yourself a little longer, spreading glossy slickness under your fingers.
Your whines stayed at a respectable volume. Quiet enough, no one outside the barn could hear. But Peter refused to keep his enthusiastic voice down. He dug his big hands into your hips, fingernails clenching your dress. Scratching rough lines into the white cloth.
"Fuck, you gonna-...you gonna keep touchin' yourself like that? Gonna cum for me?" His words slurred. Peter used his immeasurable strength to hold you in place. Stuffing his cock through your pussy’s luscious, spongy grip. He fucked you in lethargic, but needy ruts, "P-Please-ohmygod-...please cum for me, baby. Lemme hear it, please?"
"Noooo~! Pe-ahhhh~! Peter, I cannnn't! Someone might-...Peter I can't-" You whimpered. Swirling your clit, you pushed yourself even further towards climax. A delightful, oncoming wave of scorching pleasure surged in your body. Sizzling through your veins, "OH, FUCK, QUICKIE~!" A sharp squeal bounced from your throat, as Peter surprised you.
"FUCK!! Yeah? You sound so fuckin'-Ah-...Yer so fuckin' good for me. Don't hold back, baby. Wanna-ohhhh~! Wanna hear you scream. Don't you fuckin' hold back-" Moving suddenly fast, he slammed his cock in deeper. His cherry red dick shattered your poor cervix. Burying himself to the brim, he slapped your mound hard with sharp pounds of his pelvis, "Mmmmmmfucking-...gonna fuckin'....aaaahhaha..."
Peter’s body tensed. His heels scuffed along the ground, crushing hay under his boots as he braced his feet. More loose strands tickled his skin where his shirt bunched up. Making him itchy again. But his intoxicated rutting never dwindled. He whined again, his voice cracking. Ruthless, quickening grinds of his cock knocked you hard. Sending you straight into a dimension of overwhelming, euphoric pleasure.
As tremors hummed across your sweaty skin, bliss ruptured deep in your core. At that moment, Peter forgot to consider any further risks. He burst with a hot, white pop of gluey heat. Rocking your sore cunt in sloppy, shallow thrusts. Peter soaked his dick in your sweet, inebriated love. The scent of booze and sex simmered in his nostrils. Lifting his hips, he met you in one or two more reckless, offbeat bounces.
Barely conscious of reality, Peter panted. Lying with you in a clumsy heap, he shared lazy kisses and steamy breaths with you. Had he been anymore sober, Peter would’ve rushed you off to the nearest bathroom. In dire need of a minute’s recovery, he laid there. Splayed out, Peter’s limbs rested loose and flimsy. The seconds passed, and he sobered up quickly. Post-orgasmic haziness began to clear.
You snuggled up next to him, grazing his cheek with your nose. The scent of alcohol lingered on your breath. Remind Peter that, unlike him, you were probably still a little drunk.
“You okay?” You asked out of the blue, tickling his neck with a giggle, “What are you thinking about? You’re not second guessing yourself already, are you?” Your fingers toyed with the zipper of his jacket. Which he gave you to wear in the cold, shortly after fucking you senseless.
In the distance, the faint roar of the party continued on. Rustling from inside the mansion and seemingly endless. Peter stayed silent, before snickering. He turned his head to the side, returning your nuzzles with a kiss. His lips met your hair. The smell of your conditioner made his heart skip a beat for some reason.
“Nothin’. It’s not-” He shrugged, turning his head again. Peter stared up at the glittering string lights hanging in the barn. His coffee bean eyes jumped from twinkle to twinkle, “It’s not super important. Kinda weird to be thinkin’ about it after-uh…” His voice trailed off again. Peter cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks flush, “Seriously, no big deal.”
You rolled onto your back, watching the lights sway in a cool breeze, “You sure?” You laughed, humming an, “Uh ohhh!” Before you continued, “Did somebody sober up and realize he made a dumb mistake? Hehe…” You teased, though he could hear the sliver of hesitance in your tone. A beat of silence passed, and you hugged his jacket closer.
“Regret wh-...huh? Nahhh, baby. You kiddin’? That was awesome.” He snickered awkwardly. Peter brought his hands to his face. He sighed, “I-uh…I was just thinkin’ about how…I could be spendin’ this holiday with my dad. I mean, shit…maybe he wouldn’t wanna spend it with me, but-”
He assumed you might take offense to this. Wouldn't it come off as a little inconsiderate? To think about his dad right now. After such an intimate moment between the two of you. But being the understanding person you were, you rolled over to face him. Drawing gentle lines into his shirt, you snuggled up close to him again.
“Is that where you wanna be right now? With your dad?” You asked, your tone gentle.
Peter swallowed, pinching the bridge of his nose. A pounding headache swarmed him from nowhere. The repercussions of Beast hooch. Hopefully, such ailments would pass just as quickly as he sobered up.
“I-...yeah? I guess? But…it’s not like I can just-...like, I can’t go see him. Since he still doesn’t know about me, y’know? It’d be weird if I just showed up on Halloween. Like, hey, man, wanna hang out? Goddammit.” Peter shook his head, sitting up fully in the hay. Straw-like strands stuck to his clothes. He brushed them away.
“Well…hey, I got an idea, yeah?” You tried to follow his lead, sitting upward. Swaying a little as you did, Peter could tell you were still on the edge of tipsy. You giggled, “Let’s go inside. And I’ll…try to get everyone together for a movie. Maybe a horror? And you can run off! Go find him. Use the movie as an excuse. Offer him the opportunity to come down and watch. Sound good?”
It didn’t. Erik wasn’t the type to indulge in such activities. Still, Peter smiled fondly at your consideration. Nodding, he stood to his feet in a flash. You blinked, finding yourself lying bridal style in his arms again. With a hand to his chin, you tilted his head down. Pressing a soft kiss to his lips.
“Thanks…” He hummed, his half lidded eyes gazing down into yours, “I really did have…such an awesome time with you. I haven't done that kinda thing with anybody in a while. But lemme-uh…” Peter bashfully chuckled, “Lemme get you to a bathroom so you can clean up, 'kay? ”
After the surprisingly deep chat he shared with you, Peter rushed you off to a mansion bathroom. Leaning against a wall, he waited outside the door. As the party settled and people filed out into the streets, he became more nervous. The two of you spent the rest of the night together, by the other’s side. Treating each other as normally as you would any other day. Soon, you sobered up enough to gather the X-family for a late night movie.
Peter took your advice, despite expecting the worst. Zipping upstairs and all through the mansion, he searched for his estranged father. To Peter’s surprise, Erik caught him off guard with a yes. But before he made his way downstairs, Peter took a moment to chat with him. He asked Erik how he was doing, and what he’d been up to. Ever since he chose the mansion for a temporary hideout (an arrangement most everybody felt uncomfortable with).
Erik - for good reason - wasn’t the most emotionally open. He kept their conversation short, before dismissing Peter. They both caught up with everyone else in the living room. The X-family sat together with snacks and drinks, joined for a movie. Erik chose a spot next to Peter on one of the sofas. Something he hadn’t anticipated at all. Since he didn’t get much out of the guy too often, he felt he could settle for his company, at least.
Sitting at Peter's other side, you eventually passed out. You rested your head on his lap, and he raked his fingers through your hair. By the time the movie ended, everyone veered off for bed. At last, calling Hallow’s eve quits. But Erik remained. He spoke to Peter a little while longer. Chatting about nothing at all, and everything at once.
Come next morning, Peter stood tiredly in the mansion kitchen. It was an unreasonably cold Monday in November. Freezing weather seemed to hit Westchester out of nowhere. He held a mug full of coffee, milky white and loaded with enough sugar to send anyone else to the hospital. Scratching his head over a mess of silver hair, Peter yawned. Even though he had more important things to worry about, he couldn't stop thinking about last night. For several reasons.
The impromptu bonding time he spent with his father lingered in his mind. Even if said father didn’t know what their interactions meant to Peter. It happened all thanks to your tipsy encouragement. Peter knew, even sober, you would’ve pushed him to do the same. Because you cared about him that much. Always inspiring him to step out of his comfort zone.
Aside from the estranged dad stuff, Peter couldn’t stop thinking about you. And the more…steamy moments the two of you shared. Intimate interactions he still hadn’t sat down and discussed with you. Peter didn't have a clue what that little fling meant to you. Or if it meant anything at all. Distracting himself, he focused his attention elsewhere. Like the Halloween decorations littered about the mansion. He planned to take them down today after classes.
You came padding downstairs and into the kitchen not even five minutes later.
“Gooooood morning!” You cheerily said, blinking your sleepy eyes. Groaning, you brought a hand to your head. Your fingers touched your temple, “You know what’s surprising? I actually don’t have that bad of a hangover!”
Peter’s heart did flips, and he felt his stomach tangle in knots. Humming into his coffee, he threw you a casual nod of his head. Play it cool, “Mmmm. That’s good, though, right?”
You headed straight for the cabinets, standing on your toes to reach the highest one. You flailed around for the near-empty tub of coffee grounds. He left it up there without any consideration for short, mansion inhabitants like you. Totally absent-minded. Peter almost felt thankful he did. As you reached, the itty bitty, sleep shorts you wore rose by a touch. The cheeks of your ass caught his eye. Your bottom appeared etched in faint scratches, painted with red splotches. Damn…what the hell did he do to you last night?
Sipping his coffee with a groggy look on his face, Peter grinned.
Man alive, he wanted to screw you sober. Doing it drunk really wasn’t enough. Quickly, he dismissed that thought. Filing it away in his scatterbrained memory for later.
“Did you talk to Erik last night?” You asked, pulling Peter from his not-so-safe-for-work thoughts. You stretched a little further up, really reaching for that tin tub of Folgers.
Peter blinked, “Sorry, what?”
“Erik. I asked if you talked to him last night? Because I kinda remember you two having a chat. But then again, I was pretty out of it!” Your shorts hugged the shape of your cunt as you stood on your toes. An ache stirred in his groin, but he shook it off. Holy shit. What were you trying to accomplish here?
Peter’s heart skipped twenty beats. Sifting through the disorganized cabinets in his brain, he retrieved his previous thought. Ah, yeah. Screwing you sober? Not a want, but a need at this point. Focus, Quickie. He needed to focus. Especially if you planned on talking about something as important as his father.
“Uhhhh…” He ran a hand through his messy locks, taking a moment to process his racing thoughts, “Yeah, we talked. Not a lot, though. I meant to say thanks for that, by the way. Since I didn’t get to last night…” Peter brought his mug to his lips, averting his gaze, “Really. Thanks a lot. Don’t think we woulda had that time together, if you hadn’t pushed me to ask him 'n stuff.”
Still struggling to reach for that tin, you sighed. Your heels hit the floor, as you lowered your arm and turned to meet Peter’s eyes. Your sweet voice brought him an unexpected feeling of comfort. 
“Hey, anytime, Peter! I know it’s been really hard for you. Seeing him around here lately. And you don’t need me to tell you the obvious. But-” You timidly gazed down at your toes, shrugging. Peter knew exactly what you were about to say, before you parted your lips to say it.
Something along the lines of: Maybe it’s finally time you told him the truth. Or whatever.
It was too early for this kinda deep, introspective talk. Peter didn’t give you the chance to continue. Setting aside his mug on a countertop, he appeared by your side in a fwip. The breeze from his abrupt movement tickled your cheeks. He reached into the cabinet for the tub of coffee grounds. Handing it off to you with a tired, hooded expression. He sluggishly grinned.
“We got class in, like, twenty minutes.” Peter interrupted, and you took the bait. Whether you knew of his intent to dissuade the previous conversation, he couldn’t tell.
“Oh! Yeah! Shit!” You slapped a hand over your forehead. Peter gazed down at you, admiring your early morning features, “I’m so screwed!” Not yet you’re not, “I totally forgot to put together a lesson plan! I don’t know what the hell I’m gonna do today!” Well…you could always do him. Again.
Jeez. Dude. No. The hell’s wrong with him?? Be reasonable, guy! At least take your buddy out to dinner first. Which...yeah. Might be time to think about asking you on a real date.
“Yeahhh. I kinda forgot too. Had a bunch of other stuff on my mind, yanno?” Peter said, completely lethargic. He shrugged, “I’m so bad at my job, man.” He kept his eyes on you, as you threw together your own pot of coffee.
“Actually, that’s bullshit. And I think you know it too. You’re amazing at it. That’s why all the kids love you so much.” You replied. Smiling like you meant every word. Because you did. Man, why'd you have to be so freakin' sweet?
Early morning sunlight beamed through the windows. It bathed your hair and face in sparkling gold. Peter wanted to kick himself for swooning. He opted to change subjects.
“I gotta take these decorations down eventually.” He said, gesturing to the streamers hanging from the kitchen ceiling. For an instant, he remembered tangling himself in them last night, “I keep puttin’ it off. But it’s gotta happen sooner ‘er later.” Taking initiative, he reached up to tear some of them down. Balling them up in his hands.
“I could help you! If you need an extra hand!” You offered, innocently sipping your coffee. Peter took in the curl of your lips as you smiled. He cleared his throat, chuckling.
“Y’know you don’t have to, babe. It’ll literally only take me a second. I just gotta stop sittin’ on my ass.” Peter said. He tossed the balled streamers with a failed, Michael Jordan-style execution. They landed in a nearby trashcan, “Pretty soon, I’m gonna have to put Christmas decorations up too. Might get started on 'em as soon as these ‘re down.” He smirked, “I’m thinkin’ I get everyone some seriously ugly sweaters. Even Mags, if he's still around by then. Oh, and I'll need more Snoopys. The crotch goblins love Snoopy.” Peter paused for a beat, his dark eyes drifting down your body. A subconscious instinct, “And-uhhhh…gonna need lots of tinsel…uh…”
Peter reached for his coffee mug. What was he talking about again?
“Oh? That all sounds nice!” You tilted your head to the side, flirtatiously grinning at Peter. As if you could tell how distracted he was by your body. Heat set aflame in his cheeks, as he glanced up into your eyes. Noticing the way they seemed to twinkle, “Think you’ll decorate the barn again too?” You asked, a flirtatious tease pouring through your tone.
He choked on his coffee mid-sip.
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mamayan · 1 year ago
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AAA! TIMES ALMOST OUT FOR THE EVENT!! before the event closes may I request 2,24,30,71,and 83 with Choso JJK? I was thinking like he and reader were enemies but he passed away recently. Reader was working at the morgue and had to work on his body, but what she didn't know is that he turned into a vampire? Thank youuu
Bang! … No bullet was shot—
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Choso
“Keep crying baby, maybe someone will save you?” || Carnivore || Graveyard Shift || Stalker
tw: NSFW • Dubcon • Aphrodisiac Usage • Vampire AU • Fem! Reader • Kidnapping
A/N: Since he’s a blood manipulation user, I feel him being a vampire is both sexy and appropriate. I’m running with it—
wc: 1446
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Blood banks operate under normal hours, unless during emergencies where they open for all hours of the night and day to fill quota during disasters.
You sat behind your desk, scrolling mindlessly and incredibly bored during such a time. A small town like this wasn’t a hub for disaster donations, only the usuals this morning, but you were scheduled for the night shift, which was a full twelve into the morning. Your bleary eyes blinked at the clock, reading at two in the morning as you groaned into the silent building. It was only you here in this small clinic tonight, and no one would be in until eight to relieve you. You wouldn’t see a soul until then, no doubt about it.
You glanced back at your phone, intending to pass the time until you fell asleep at the desk or found some sort of entertainment to fill the time.
The ring of the bell on the door nearly caused you a heart attack, the deafening silence now shattered like an illusion as you shoot up from your spot to see a man enter.
He’s tall.
Dark hair pulled up into two spiky puffs, a few strands falling into a tired albeit handsome face. His lips are flat, expression bored as he stuffs his hands into his loose pant pockets, clothing dark to match his grunge vibe you assumed he was going for.
“Hello, are you here to donate?” Your voice sounds higher in pitch than usual, but your customer service tone seems ingrained at this point.
He doesn’t answer, just turns to face you more fully but his eyes are wandering around the empty building.
“Just you?” Unease settles into your gut, but you push the paranoia away as you answer.
“Yeah, just me tonight, but I can have you out of here in less than a half hour if you’ve donated before—,” you pause when your eyes meet, the purple irises striking enough to make you speechless. He holds your gaze now as he approaches, eyes narrowing slightly as if he’s analyzing you deeper now.
You startle awake from whatever trance you seemed to have been under when he’s directly in front of the counter now, his height and figure more imposing so close up. You step back on instinct, but it makes his lip quirk up into a smirk, amusement dancing in his gaze.
“I just planned to dine and dash tonight but…” his speech is low and languid, “it’s been so long since I’ve had something warm to drink.”
You didn’t get it. Brows furrowing to show your confusion as you tilt your head in question, briefly wondering if he really thought this place a cafe or something.
“We don’t serve food sir, this is a blood bank—ah?” You hardly have time to process his inhumanly quick movement, already pressed to the floor behind the counter with the stranger straddling you.
It hasn’t even hurt, you didn’t even feel the impact, and it left you dazed.
“Wha-?”
“You smell delicious.” You blank as he flashes abnormally long and sharp canines, almost like fangs you register late. “I was wondering if it was just the location, but no, it’s you who got me all riled up. You smell like dessert.” You cry out when he grips your jaw and pushes you flat, tilting your head up to expose your neck. Your hands are useless, unable to break his hold or push him away. You felt like you were fighting a brick wall as you huff in frustration, efforts as ferocious as a kitten it seemed.
“Cute,” his chuckle is breathy against your sensitive skin, lips soft as they trace and kiss just over your pulse point.
“Stop! I’ll call the police! I-I’ll scream!” You realize struggling is futile, resorting to threats and praying they intimidate him.
“This place is a dump and the least safe area in town, even if you scream no one will hear or come. I doubt even if you called the police they’d respond in time either…” your blood goes cold at the surety in his tone, as if he had first hand experience and truly does know.
“P-please don’t hurt me…” it’s a pathetic last attempt, trying to appeal to some sort of softer spot this dangerous stranger might hold.
Choso feels you lightly trembling in his hold, your blood and adrenaline calling to a carnal part of him that screams to drain and kill you. There’s another part of him though, a bit more insistent than the need to drink you dry, straining within the confines of his pants.
His tongue licks a stripe over your pulse, voice deeper as he strains to hold himself back. “M’not gonna hurt you, this’ll feel very good…” you aren’t given time to think longer on what that truly means before his fangs sink into your neck.
You go to shout but nothing comes out, only a strange numbness overtaking the initial sting. His weight is heavy, but an odd euphoria begins to spread and you gasp beneath him. Something tingles and shoots down your body until your underwear begins to fill with slick. “Ah~!” instead of a scream only a broken moan leaves you now, as you feel so overwhelmed with pleasure your mind clouds. You aren’t pushing him away now, fingers curling into his jacket and tugging him closer as he groans against you, now pressing his hardness against your thigh and grinding.
You tasted like a dream, his own mind now fighting not to finish and take all of you. It’s your little mewls which draw him away, so breathy and filled with desperation.
“Please, oh God—please I need—!” He moans as you spread your legs to grind against him, his hands quick to sink into the waistband of your pants and underwear and tear them off of you. You looked comical, face disoriented and surprised while your lower half was completely bare. Choso moves swiftly, yanking his own pants down just enough to free his hard cock, panting just as desperately as you, his lips tinted red as his lustful dark gaze drinks you in.
“I’m not patient enough to prep you right now,” he murmurs soothingly as he lines himself up with your soaked entrance, “Be good for me this time, okay?” Then he’s pushing in, face blissful as he nearly whines at how tightly you grip him inside of you. You’re too far gone from his venom, features languid as your eyes roll back at the feeling of him filling you. “S’full—!” Your squeal of delight has him smiling, leaning over you as he bottoms out to lick and seal the puncture wounds on your throat closed. When he pulled away, his eyes widened at the tears rolling down your cheeks, lips parted as you deliriously babbled nonsense. “Fuck,” he mutters roughly, one hand finding your hip while the other worked to lift your top and expose your chest, his hips driving deep as you clench and grind back onto him. “It-it feels so good—! Please, please, please—,” Choso isn’t cruel enough to deny you, all too happy to fuck you senseless like you beg for on your work floor. His grin is strained, cock already throbbing for release inside the gooey confines of your pussy, but from how wet and whiny you are he guesses you aren’t far from your own release too. “H-help me, I can’t—please, I-I’m going crazy!” You’re completely consumed, it seems his venom was more potent on you than he’d thought it’d be, but it only aroused him more as he grunts and plasters his body against yours. ““Keep crying baby, maybe someone will save you?” He’s teasing as he licks the tears falling down your cheeks, moaning low and deep as you take the opportunity to dig your fingers into his hair. The strands come loose, but his hips don’t stop their conquest of your sweet cunt as you scream and come apart around him.
“Fuck, m’taking you home aren’t I?” He’s becoming delirious too as his pace increases, one hand having to help hold your leg in place as you go limp. “Look at you,” he coos, eyes clouding with lust as grits his teeth and hisses as he fills you, hips stuttering to a stop as he presses as close as possible against you.
You aren’t able to stay conscious, eyes closing tiredly as sleep drags you under due to exhaustion and blood loss. Choso doesn’t mind as he cleans you both up, dressing you against and easily pulling you up into his arms.
It’s only proper to take leftovers home after all, to finish later.
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Post dividers/@cafekitsune
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tropes-and-tales · 27 days ago
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With Teeth
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(Benny Magalon x F!Reader)
CW:  Talk of drug use; vaguely smuttish (kissing, groping, biting), but nothing explicit. 18+ only just to be safe.
Word Count: 3062
AN:  This was originally requested from a prompt list ("i won’t bite. unless you’re into that sort of thing") by @outlawedmando!
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Major Crimes isn’t the only division of the Los Angeles Sheriff’s Department to host illicit parties.  Many of the divisions have their own deals with their own vibes that fit the unique character of the division in question.
Major Crimes, lorded over by Big Nick, is almost a cliché with the booze, women, and drugs.
The Gang Squad is led by a man much like Big Nick, so it’s no surprise that they do it up similarly, only bigger, with more women and harder drugs.
Cold Case Division’s modus operandi is to go out to the desert with big guns and lots of beer and blow shit up.
No one really knows what Parking Enforcement and Services does, but there are jokes about it.  Some say lean into the relative lameness, say they unwind with a knitting circle, or scrapbooking evenings when they listen to New Age music.  Others say they go fully feral, that they have a fight club in an abandoned warehouse where they beat each to near-death.
In terms of the group with the panache, though, the honor belongs to the Fugitive Apprehension Team.  Maybe it’s the nature of their role—always hunting, always on edge and in the front lines of dangerous work.  Something makes their unwinding efforts an ultra-chill affair, a complete decompression and sloughing-off of the stress.
The Fugitive Squad is a tight-knit group—arguably tighter than Major Crimes, though the two often overlap.  Major Crimes cracks a case, needs someone hauled in?  Big Nick drops a call, and it’s like setting a pack of well-trained wolves on the busy streets and dusty roads of Los Angeles County.
On big cases, sometimes the Fugitive Squad invites Major Crimes to their parties and vice versa.  Usually Major Crimes attends the Fugitive events, since the Fugitive folks don’t quite care for Big Nick groping hired girls while the fug of cigar smoke hangs over some hotel room.
-----
What does a Fugitive party entail?
Borracho is never clear on who exactly plans them.  If it’s a situation where the team takes turns, or if there’s one mastermind behind the events.  It’s always at the same place:  a low, sprawling mid-century place in the Pacific Palisades, owned by one of the members of the squad who came from old family money. 
There’s a pool and beyond it, the ocean.  There’s low, cool lighting that swaths everyone in blue shadows.  There’s ambient music—a low, steady pulsing beat that seems to sync everyone’s heart rate to the same rhythm.  The food is always elegant, an elaborate sushi bar one night, tapas another time.  There’s alcohol, plenty of it, but no one ever seems to overdo it to a sloppy degree because everything is so damned chill.
Drugs?  Big Nick is partial to coke and often brings enough to the Major Crimes events to get loaded, but the Fugitive parties are purely for the psychedelic shit.  Weed, obviously.  Mushrooms.  Molly.  Nothing that will get people worked up:  only stuff to calm and maybe take the user to another galaxy while they celebrate another night on the right side of the dirt.
Honestly, Borracho kinda prefers the thing the Fugitive folks have going on. A big joint case has just wrapped up, and he finds himself with an invite along with the rest of his team. 
Which means he gets to see you in a more social setting.
At work, you’re all business.  Mostly silent, the way Borracho is mostly silent.  You let your commanding officer do all the talking the way Big Nick does all the talking, and like Borracho, you stand nearby and look and listen.
Early on, you caught Borracho studying you.  It had made your mouth twist in a small smile, and you had winked at him, but it was a lone instance of your personality shining through during work hours.
Off-duty?  Fuck, you drive him insane.
It’s not entirely the sort of insanity that comes from flirting and sexual tension.  At these parties, you’re someone else completely.  Totally at ease, which means you feel comfortable enough to be yourself, to untether your mouth from your brain, and Borracho never knows what the fuck you’ll say to him.  If you’ll drop something banal about the Dodgers’ pitching depth, or if you’ll stare at him, unblinking, and ask if he thinks life as he knows it is just a simulation.  Because both has happened in the past at these parties, and both were before you even touched a drug.
Tonight, though, he’s late to show up.  The party is in full swing, the low bass audible from the street when he parks his truck.  He makes his way inside, sees the crush of people dancing in the living room, sees the cluster of people in the dining room where the food and drinks and drugs are laid out.  Borracho sees Henderson, tips a nod in his direction, but he keeps walking through the place.
He always seeks you out at these things.  He always swears he’ll play it cool, but his resolve always melts away the moment he hits the door.
Borracho finds you in the den—a separate space that usually has a movie projected on the far wall while people sprawl out and trip and sometimes get cozy in the dark room while some old black-and-white movie plays out in the background.
Tonight, you’re settled on the deep leather couch at one end.  Another guy is at the other end of the couch, his wide eyes fixed on where “The Third Man” plays against the far wall.  There’s a couple curled up on a separate easy chair, murmuring together, making out, and it charges the room with an undercurrent of sexual energy that feels…promising.
It takes you a beat to notice him leaning in the doorway.  You’re watching the movie too, and it’s only in a scene break that you glance over and see him.
“Borracho!” you call out.  “Finally made it!”
“Never like to arrive too early.”
“Smart, smart.  Gives you an air of mystery.”
You smile and continue.  “C’mon in.  Take a seat, settle in.  We’re following Joseph Cotton here around post-war Vienna.”  You lift a hand and gesture at the wall.
Borracho tilts his head at the couch where you sit.  “No room.”
You turn and look at the guy on the other end of the couch.  When Borracho looks closer, he sees it’s one of your coworkers in the Fugitive Squad.  He watches as you reach over and swat at him, tell him to move over and make some room.  When he does, you turn back to Borracho and pat the middle cushion invitingly.
“C’mon, handsome.  I won’t bite.”  He cocks an eyebrow at the handsome moniker, but you add, “unless you’re into that sort of thing,” and he realizes that you’re throwing him for a loop like you always do—only this time, you’re flirting with him, not interrogating him about what reality really is.
You drive him fucking insane.
It’s not entirely the sort of insanity that comes from flirting and sexual tension, but it’s a big part of it.  At work, it’s the way you move around, the economical way you move when you’re on the hunt.  If the Fugitive Squad is a pack of wolves, you’re their panther:  more of a big cat padding on quiet paws, ears pitched forward, slinking after prey. 
At parties, it’s this:  always keeping him guessing, keeping him back on his heels, making him feel like a teenaged boy again straining for just a moment with you.  The anticipation of it, the frustration when it never materializes, the eagerness for the next invite to the next party. 
He makes his way into the room and sits down beside you.  You reach over to the little table beside the couch and snag a small tray with party favors on it.  You present it to Borracho with a flourish.
“Want to partake?” you ask.
He squints at the offerings.  There’s edibles, a cigarette case of pre-rolls, and some unidentified pills with tiny smiley faces printed on them.  He points at them.
“What are those?”
“Designer shit,” you reply.  “Boss has a buddy in Twentynine Palms who makes these small-batch, artisanal drugs.”
Borracho snorts.  “Hipster shit.”
“Like a macaron shop in a swiftly gentrifying neighborhood.”
“What’s it do?”
You click your tongue as you think.  “Little bit of everything, I’d say.  Relaxes you like pot, but kinda gives you the euphoria of molly.  Also offers the barest bit of trippiness, in case you want to peer behind the veil between realities.”
“Haven’t peered behind the veil lately.”
“Treat yourself, Borracho.”
He plucks one pill from the tray and considers it.  “You take one already?”
You answer by taking another pill from the tray, then setting the tray aside.  You turn to face him, stick out your tongue, and lay the pill on it.  The whole time you hold his gaze, and he holds yours.
A second later, you close your mouth and swallow.  “Yes,” you tell him with a smile.  “I’ve taken one already.”
You drive him fucking insane.  How could he not want you?
-----
Whatever this designer pill is, it’s the sort to creep up slowly on a user. 
Borracho relaxes by degrees.  Feels himself melting into the couch by degrees, like his bones are softening, his muscles are lengthening.  The light from the projector takes on an ethereal glow, and at some point, he blinks and realizes, shit, I’m feeling it now.
He turns his head, heavy against the back of the couch, and sees you.  You sense his gaze on you, and you turn your head to face him too.
“How you feeling?” you ask.
“Good.”  It comes out rough, a dry-throated croak, and you laugh at him, which makes him smile. 
“Good.”
“You?”
“Good.”
“That’s…good,” he replies, and it makes you laugh again, makes him laugh too, and he realizes how much he’s feeling it after all.  How effortless it feels to sit beside you right now.  He glances up at the movie and sees that it has changed entirely – to some grimy-looking ‘80’s crime drama with a synth soundtrack.  The couple who had been making out in the chair have disappeared, and when Borracho turns his head to the other side of him, he sees the third wheel has left too.
How long have the two of you been alone?
Time seems to stretch and distort.  He watches the movie, a car chase scene, then blinks and it’s rolling credits.  Another blink and it’s another movie, a low budget sci-fi with lots of lasers.  He sits on the couch, his legs sprawled wide, and his knee presses against yours.
Blink, and his leg nearest you now is pressed against yours, thigh to thigh, and the heat he can feel coming from you seems to have a shimmering quality when he looks down at where you touch.
Blink, and he’s watching the movie again.  There’s an alien in bad makeup, more lasers, a jazzy stream of music that seems to come from somewhere else.
“I am,” he blurts out.  He rolls his head again, peers over at you, waits for you to turn and look at him.  When you do, you look confused.
“Huh?”
“I am.  From earlier.”
You snort, then laugh.  “I am so lost right now.”
Blink, and he feels the smile that creeps across his face.  “What you said earlier.  You asked if I was into it.  I am.”
“Into what?”
Blink, and he swallows.  Feels the heat of your thigh pressed against his.  “You said you wouldn’t bite—”
“—Unless you’re into that.”  You pick up the thread and remember.  The smile you offer has a feral edge, unless he’s imagining it, which is very likely.  Maybe none of this is happening at all:  maybe he’s passed out and drooling on the couch while you’re sober and elsewhere, cornering people and trying to discuss string theory.
“You like biting, Borracho?” you ask, and your voice is low, a near whisper.  Like you’re sharing secrets, so he whispers back.
“Depends on who’s doing the biting.”
“Hmmm.” 
Blink, and you’re moving towards him, that same cat-like fluidity you have at work.  He never takes his eyes from you, never blinks, and you don’t either.  He watches as you straddle him, settle on his lap.  His hands find your waist, then slides them down and back to grasp your ass.  Your hands reach up and cup his face, low on his jaw, and you smile down at him.
You’re backlit by the projected wall of the movie.  He opens his mouth to say something nice, to tell you how fucking gorgeous you look, but you lean down as you tilt his head and…he thinks you’re going to kiss him, but you brush your lips over his cheekbone until your mouth is right by his ear.
“You want me to bite you?” you whisper, and your warm breath fanning over him makes him shudder, a delicious frisson of trembling through the core of him.  He wants to say something slick in return, but he only manages to grunt an affirmative.
Blink, and you lean against him.  He can feel your tits pressed against him, can feel the flex of your body as you bend your head.  Another blink, and he feels your mouth on him, your soft lips, then your tongue as you taste him—the spot right where his neck meets his shoulder.
Then he feels your teeth on him, a slow and steady sink of your teeth in his skin, and you take him right to the edge of pain and maybe a half step beyond, but no further.  His hands grip your ass harder, spasm against the soft curve of you, and he jerks you closer to him because he’s growing hard underneath you—faster than he usually does, and maybe part of it is the drug, but part of it is definitely you.
Your mouth on him, the heady weight of you on him, your hands gripping his face and holding him steady. 
You draw your teeth out of him, and you soothe where you’ve marked him with your tongue.  You run the tip of your tongue over his dimpled flesh, then kiss him there.
Blink, though, and Borracho finds you climbing off him, and he pushes a disappointed exhale through his pursed lips.  You didn’t even kiss his mouth, and he turns to where you settle back on the couch.  You catch his pout and offer him an apologetic smile.
“You know we can’t do more,” you offer as explanation. 
He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his jeans too tight.  “I think we could.”
Another smile that turns into a laugh.  You reach out a hand and lay it on his arm, jostle him playfully.  “We could.  But we shouldn’t.  We’re both pretty fucked up.”
“You’ve never fooled around while stoned?”  His voice has a whining edge to it that he doesn’t like, but you keep your hand on him, keep grinning at him, and that’s something, he guesses.
“I have,” you admit.  “But within boundaries established whilst sober.  I might get sloppy at these parties, but I keep my sloppiness contained within certain limits.”
He can’t help but smile back at you despite the twinge of disappointment in his gut.  “You need a lesson from Big Nick.”
At that, you release his arm, fling your head back against the couch and blow out a heavy breath.  “God, that asshole.”
“He kinda is, right?”
“He has a sort of all-encompassing sloppiness that I can’t support, Borracho.”  You turn your head, smile again.  “Tempting though you may be.”
He sighs but smiles back at you.  “You know you drive me fucking crazy, right?”
“Yeah?”  Your eyes widen—you look genuinely surprised.
“Yeah.”
“You gonna be shitty with me now?”
He shakes his head.  He’s never been the type of man to get a bug up his ass about a woman not putting out.  He’s never gotten angry at dates that led to nothing, or dates who changed their mind.  That’s life, and he’s always thought of men who got shitty about women not putting out as childish assholes.
Besides, he’s gotten plenty.  He knows what it feels like to have you on top of him, how it feels to have your tits pressed against him.  He knows what your mouth feels like and will bear the mark of your teeth for at least a week until the bruise fades.  He knows that your ass feels amazing under his big hands.
“If you ever want to establish boundaries while sober…” he starts, then trails off, and it makes you laugh again.  It’s probably the drugs, but he’s made you smile more, laugh more in this one evening than he has in all the time since he’s known you.
“Don’t open that door if you don’t want me walking through it, Borracho,” you warn.
Maybe he’s sobering up a bit, because he manages to both think of a slick line and deliver it. 
“You’re Fugitive Squad, baby.  You can kick down my door anytime you want.”
It’s the coup de grace of the moment:  you throw your head back and laugh, deep belly laughs that come from deep inside you.  You throw out a hand and brace yourself against his shoulder, and he chuckles along with you.
“Duly noted,” you finally manage to say once you calm.  “I’ll hit you up sometime.”
Borracho nods.  “You should.”
Then, because he’s still loose from the drugs, still feeling pretty damned good, still wanting to show that he’s not going to be shitty about you clambering off him, he lifts his arm in invitation.
“C’mon,” he says.  “At least curl up with me here.  I need someone to ground me so I don’t drift off to Saturn.”
You don’t even hesitate to move closer and tuck yourself under his arm and against his side, and that’s how you both fall asleep within the hour, and how you both wake up just before dawn—both dry-mouthed and cranky, but not so cranky that you don’t sheepishly exchange numbers.
And Borracho might think you’re just being nice, but you call him that evening, stone-sober, eager to kick in his door at his earliest convenience.
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noaltbruh · 1 year ago
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Hello! Can I request bucci gang with fem s/o who had a military background? She's stern, disciplined, can bark out orders and be your biggest life coach like it's nothing, her raw physical power is inhumane to the point she rarely use her stand, overall just give you military general vibe. But later when the mc and one of the members starts dating, she shows her sentimental side and surprisingly a kinda awkward simp lmao
That's it I hope you have a good day💖
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Oh! This request was quite original for sure 😄 But it was fun writing it! And thank you for asking me to write stuff or I'd basically be playing Octopath 2 during all my free time-
Bucci gang with a S/O with a military background
Giorno 🐞
Needless to say, Giorno really respects you not only as a person, but also as a precious ally and colleague.
He thinks highly of you since you're so stern and disciplined, he knows he can rely on you when there's something he cannot handle on his own.
He sometimes comes to you for advice, he just feels like he can trust your judgement.
Okay, can I just say he's a bit startled by how...Aggressively encouraging you are? He thinks it's pretty fun, but he must admit he's very impressed by just how energetic you can be, mixed with your firm behavior as well.
He will never, ever say it out loud...But this boy is a bit intimidated by your physical power to be honest. Okay, he's pretty muscular, but he's not nearly as strong as you are.
He knows this fear is dumb since his stand easily makes up for it, but he can't help it and it embarrasses him greatly. With that being said, he still looks up to you for the effort you put into maintaining such physical conditions.
Of course, seeing your personality shift when you got into a relationship surprised him at first glance, but thinking about it, he can't say he couldn't have seen it coming.
After all, you just HAD to be hiding something more to you behind your military façade. He knows it well since he's the first to mask himself.
He doesn't hesitate to take advantage of this other part of you though. He'll try his absolute hardest to cluster and make you away as soon as he realizes how awkward you actually are.
He'll actually call you cute quite often and probably giggle seeing you all embarrassed, but he never holds malicious intentions whatsoever. He simply thinks you're adorable.
He warmly welcomes your romantic side too, being quite romantic himself, although it may not be very clear at first glance. He'll reserve fancy dinners, grow flowers and buy you the most beautiful roses as a way to keep up with your lovely antics, he can't afford to fall short.
Bruno 🤐
Bruno's brain is low-key trying to process your existence, since you're so different from the rest of his team-
That doesn't mean he does not appreciate you, he really does! It's just... He'd always been used to be the one who gives orders and supports his men, not the other way around.
So, seeing you do what is usually his responsibility and duty highly catches him off guard, but he's quite thrilled by it at the same time, which is what first causes him to developed this of admiration for you.
But be prepared for him to still encourage and guide you whenever he gets the chance to. He thinks it's a good way to indirectly tell you that you're allowed to rely on others too sometimes and you don't always have to be strong.
With that being said, he thinks very highly of you because of your sterness and discipline, you get stuff done when it's necessary and he doesn't hesitate to praise you if you did a good job...Which is pretty much always.
He may even give you some of the hardest jobs, but never too much to overwhelm you. He knows you have limits like everyone else and respects them.
While he does think that your raw strength is impressive, he'll also push you to use your stand more and train to fight with it too.
It's not that he doesn't think you're powerful, but some situations just HAVE to be handled through stands, you can't risk.
He's obviously taken aback by your sudden change, you're just so different from the person he had grown accustomed to. Even so, he must say he's quite happy about this too. After all, it is truly a sign that you're willing to let your guard down around him and be yourself more.
Although he did not expect you to simp and get all bashful as soon as he started to court you...
...And most of all, to court him back as soon as you got the hang of it. It does highly pleas him though, it's really nice to know that good ol' romanticism still exists outside of him.
All these different aspects to your personality only stimulate his curiosity towards you, he truly think you're a unique one and he won't rest until he gets to see everything you have to offer.
Mista 🔫
Nah buddy you don't understand how cool Mista thinks you are.
Honestly he's just astounded by your physical strength, he didn't even think someone could possibly be that ripped to the point where's you wouldn't even have to use your powers.
You low-key scare him, but there's no way in hell he's going to admit that. He also wants to be stoped and crushed by you, but he won't be saying that either.
The pistols love to be around you because of your whole vibe, but number five in particular likes you a lot because he feels safe in your presence and knows the others won't mess with him if you're there.
He's a fan of your praises and hype, he's sperate vero confident, bug having someone else's supports always feels good, doesn't it.
Probably didn't follow your orders at first and thought you were just joking around, then he saw your killer look and went "shit", before immediately doing what you told him-
Despite the respect he has for you, he can't help but think that you worry way too much about stuff and you need to learn how to relax a bit.
Because of this, he'll goof around and make jokes even more when you're near him than usual. He wants to help you to let loose a bit and become more chill.
Honestly, he thinks it's thanks to him that you changed so much once you got together lol.
Once he realizes you're just a huge simp, he'll look for all sorts of ways to embarrass and fluster you, it basically becomes one of his favorite hobbies. If he went too far, you might have to punch him to make him stop, not that he'd mind tho.
Mista's not a very romantic person, but that doesn't mean he can't appreciate your own romantic side. The fancy dates, all those sweet words and moments are surely quite different from most relationships Mista's ever had, but that's also why he likes them. They're a new territory, and he's all in for that.
Narancia 🍊
Mommy? SORRY-...Mommy?
You can't tell me this isn't true. You think you're a simp? You've got Narancia on his knees simply by existing.
Literally, just say the word and he'll come running for your, hanging from your finger, following whatever order you may give him and completing him exactly like you told him to.
Please, support him and encourage him whenever he gets stuff done right. This boy lives for your approval and hearing you give him advice or tell him he did a good job will make him 10 times more motivated to get anything done.
He's a bit insecure about himself, so knowing you think positively of him reassures him a lot.
Speaking of which, he knows he's safe in your presence, and it's a great source of comfort for him.
Honestly, he thinks your whole super stern and collected behavior is super badass, he loves how you can keep your cool even in tough situations and you never seem to snap like he does. He just wants to be like you sooo badly!
You gotta stop his jaw from falling to the ground when he sees you beat the hell out of an enemy. After staring at you in awe for a second, he'll remember he needs to help you fight and will gladly join in kicking the dude to death.
With that being said, he'll spend the entre nighr staring at the ceiling and thinking about awesome you looked-
In case you haven't noticed, he'd quite muscular himself, he wants to train with you too! His dream is to become as powerful as you are, but if he can't, just training knowing you're by side, and showing off he can also be strong is enough for him.
Okay, when your personality begins to shift, Orange boy is so lost. It's not that he doesn't like you anymore of anything, he's just...Confused. You're so different from the Y/N he's used to.
With that being said though, he quickly gets used to this change, and he's all in for that! Honestly, the fact that you sometimes come off as a bit awkward just makes it easier for him to empathize with your feelings, since he'd most definitely be very nervous around you out of pure embarrassment during your first conversations.
But he takes your simping deep admiration for him as a way to show off to you! He's gonna prove he's just as badass as you are, he wants to leave you speechless and will give everything he has to impress you, no holding back!
This boy is 100% a hopeless romantic, although he's bad at putting his lovely dovey ideas into practise, mostly because he's very clumsy and he'd probably set the kitchen on fire trying to make a nice candlelight dinner-
Because of this, knowing you're alike when it comes to romanticism reassures him. He knows that even if he messes up sometimes, you'll still always appreciate his effort and the energy he puts in his sweet gestures for you.
Moreover, no matter what you may do or organize with Nari, like watching the moon together or dedicating a song to him, he'll cherish it forever and ever in his heart. Every romantic moment you two share become a core memory that he's constantly going to think back to and smile without even realizing it.
He'll always love you, no matter what side of yourself you may be showing :)♡
Fugo 🍓
My friend, Fugo's afraid of you-
Have you seen this guy? He feels like a wimp compared to you, he's genuinely afraid you're just gonna take him and rip his bones in half.
When he does start to realize that you'd never do that, however, he begins to feel...Relived by your presence, in a sense. You just seem like someone he can rely on, which puts him at ease.
Also, you're one of the few people in the house who aren't constantly annoying or trying to piss him off. You're serious and he knows he can have a mildly intelligent conversation with you.
You're a good partner on missions too. He respects the way you're so determined on upholding your duty and don't mess around, he's faithful that any enemy you may face is screwed as long as he's got you with him.
He understands why you'd prefer to rely on your physical force rather than your stand, he doesn't like using Purple Haze either. Even so, he does partially think that it's a bit of a waste not to put it in action, since yours doesn't put everything and everyone in danger as soon as it shows up.
Okay let's be honest, boy's probably got the physical strength of a little girl, unless he's angry.
Therefore, some advice or words of encouragement from you are always more than welcomed, they push him to better himself while still reminding him that he's already doing fine.
When you show him your more sentimental and awkward side, Fugo gets you so well. He may seem smart and all but he's an embarrassing simp himself.
So, you guys go together like two peas in a pod, you just feel very understood by the other and don't fear their judgment at all. You're both messes so you cancel your goofiness out.
Your romantic side is gonna get him so flustered. He blushes easily and has most likely never been in a relationship before, so this kind of...Ahem, behavior, makes him scream inside, but with joy for once.
He'll try to organize something romantic for you in return, and it'll be either the most well-crafted, prepared and unique date ever...Or a total disaster. Either way, his effort is admirable.
Abbacchio ⏪
I'm sorry but Abbacchio couldn't stand you at first.
Your whole behavior just reminds him too much of the person he used to be, and just looking at you feels like looking at himself in a broken mirror.
Tries to avoid you as much as he can, and when it's not possible, he's the rudest, meanest, coldest fucker around.
The two of you only started to get along after you either saved or was a huge help to him during a mission. He was taken aback by your raw sstrength, but literally all he did once this was over was calling you a moron for not using your stand.
Secretary, he thought it was the most badass scene he's ever assisted to in his life. No, he'll never say it directly, screw you.
Complains and claims that he isn't going to follow your orders, before doing exactly that. If you were to brought that up, he'll interrupt the conversation as soon as possible and simply tell you that he did it because he wanted to, not because you told him to or anything.
He acts annoyed everyone you encourage or hype him up, saying that he doesn't need your support, but from the way he always looks away and lacks his usual bitterness in his tone, you can tell that he secretly appreciates your efforts.
Slowly, very slowly, but surely, you begin to notice small shifts and changes in the way he treats you. He doesn't look at you with disgust, willingly follows your advice and overall feels more comfortable in your presence, even cracking a few smiles here and there.
You end up becoming a huge source of inspiration to him. He still sees a lot of the person he used to be whenever you're near him, yet he doesn't view it in a negative light anymore.
A small part of Abbacchio wants to go back to be the man with the string sense of justice he once used to be. You're a constant reminder that just because he made a mistake, that doesn't mean he can't make up for it or has to live stick in the past forever.
And just when he starts to respect you... You change too-
What the?- Is this really the Y/N he knows? The stern, serious one? The wise one? The responsible one?
Is he startled? Yes, yes absolutely. Then again, he HAS to admit to himself that you being in his life has led to him modifying his own behavior quite a lot, so he shouldn't be that surprised about you being different from your usual self as well.
He's not the best with your awkward or sensitive side, but he does what he can. He knows that emotional support is something he just has to give in a relationship, so he sucks it up and never makes you feel embarrassed for what you do or say.
He's most likely amused by your romantic nature and may think it's kinda cheesy, but he secretly loves it with all his heart, and wouldn't trade it for anything else.
Trish 🎙
Ok, Trish is a bit conflicted when it comes to you.
Like- she doesn't really have anything against you particularly. The thing is, she sort of has very split opinions concerning your behavior.
For example, she admires how stern and professional you are, how you seem to always have stuff under control and never be scared.
At the same time, however, the thinks that you sometimes take things way too seriously, you should learn to let loose a bit more and just enjoy life at it this.
Because of this, she tries to get you to break free from your shell and probably takes you dancing or shopping whenever she has the opportunity to.
Another example is that she loves when you act as her personal life coach. She's a very self-confident going lady and lives for praise...Especially from you, although don't expect her to tell you this often. You're always there to motivate her even on those rare occasions when she isn't feeling her best, she adores you for this.
BUT, she can't stand when you act all pushy and boss her around, she deposed being told what to do and there's a high chance she won't listen to you if she doesn't agree with you...At least during early times.
She'll become more willing to follow your advice if you're patient with her, but she'll always make it very clear that she doesn't think it's the best option.
No but like- the first time she saw you fight, her only thought was "Wtf?!"
She didn't think someone could possibly be as strong as you are, she just exchange concerns looks with Spice girl while encouraging you herself, even if you're already doing great.
"YAAAAS QUEEN SLAAAAY"
Honestly, she doesn't question your personality shift too much. She knows that'd how people are: the more you get to know them, the more you realise they're fundamentally different from what you actually thought of them.
And honestly, since she does also begin to show her softer side herself when you get together, knowing you won't think less of her for being open about her feelings truly makes her glad to have chosen you as her partner.
In return, no matter how awkward you can be, you can expect Trish to 100% support and be there for you at any given time. Although she will tease you for getting flustered if she got the chance to.
She lives for your romantic side, it's literally her ideal relationship coming true. Being courted and loved and feeling all special...God, she adores it.
Rambles to the others about your romantic gestures all the time and will hit in the face with her boot anyone who dares call you cheesy ^^
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olderthannetfic · 1 year ago
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I remember when I was first getting into kink, I really fell for the "slippery slope" nonsense. I would find something in fiction that I thought was the coolest hottest, most extreme thing I'd ever seen and I'd love it, and then I'd follow a trail of links from that to something a little more extreme and thing that was the hottest, most extreme thing I had ever seen and I'd love that. Etc etc.
So I started wondering when does it stop? Surely, I'll just keep ramping up the extremity until I'm wanking to stuff that's well beyond what I actually think is hot, and surely at some point the only remaining threshold of extremity will be to take it into real life and start doing hurtful things to real people.
But it doesn't work that way. The escalation I was seeing was simply a discovery process of starting low and working up until I actually found my comfort threshold, and it didn;t take any effort to stop there because once I found it that was where I settled in.
It turns out that nothing is really too extreme for me in fiction (barring a few odd squicks that have nothing to do with extremity) and that I enjoy very light BDSM in real life. The "slippery slope" was just a methodical, no-surprises way of figuring that out.
--
Hah. Yes.
It's also really funny to me because I think 99% of shippy fic is basically the same template with different set dressing:
The OTP does some kink that they're both into or at least both into by the end of the fic. Everyone ends up okay.
Or maybe it's about trauma, but it's very much in that woobiefic way where the reader and author are clearly super into the character and like watching them hurt because that's their fave.
Many a normally-squeamish fan is shocked, shocked I say, to discover that they like extremely bloody stories as long as they're about Deadpool or Jack Harkness doing freaky things with no consequences. Turns out, it isn't snuff or maiming that's the issue: it's sad endings.
But show that same fan some of the brutal superheroine depowering noncon from amateur erotica sites far outside of AO3's sphere, and they'll often recoil. Here, the vibe is sometimes that the audience likes watching the protagonist suffer because they hate them instead of because they love them, and ending in trauma and horror is the point. (Still doesn't make you a serial killer, but the vibe is definitely different from your average AO3 fanfic.)
A n00b to kinky stuff will often focus on the presence of blood or piss or a technical lack of consent more than on the underlying psychological aspects and so will see certain stories as radically more extreme than the last where I would see basically the same dynamic at the same intensity with slightly different props.
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stuckinapril · 1 year ago
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Hi Cianna, just wanted to say I really admire your study ethic and general vibe on this blog (you inspire me to do better!)
Do you have any advice/tips for good study habits and staying focused? I find that I get some work done, but after a break I can't get back on track
Sorry for the long ask/ studyblr type of question;; what is your favourite hairstyle that you do with your hair! (I also have curly brown hair :)
Have a lovely day also <3
🌻🌻
hi! i touch on a lot of points in this other ask, but a few specific learning techniques i abide by are:
parkinson's law. parkinson's law states that work expands to fill the time. basically if you have an essay that's due in a week, it will magically take you one week to get it done, even if the task itself could've been done in one day. to counter this i just set artifical deadlines for myself--even if an essay is due in a week, my personal deadline has it due in two days.
prime your brain prior to learning. if you need to study a biology chapter, pre-skim it the night before. this is not the time to go into detail--it's the time to familiarize yourself with the overview of the topic, so you should only be making a quick scan of the chapter. another priming method is to make a concept map of topics before diving into a chapter. as you skim write down key terms haphazardly, google those you don't recognize, and draw a concept map linking them together. this is effective bc it requires you to actually put effort into connecting the topics, takes no longer than 15 minutes, and speeds up the learning process that follows. it doesn't matter if you find out you're wrong once you dive in; what's important is you're actively thinking of how these topics coexist, as opposed to mindlessly taking notes or highlighting only to forget what you learned a couple hours later. i'm also a fan of concept maps bc i get to go back and highlight stuff i'm weak in, which is always a plus.
if you like to take notes, use it as another means of active recall. don't just passively take notes as you go along. what i like to do is i read a paragraph, close the book, then try to take down notes based off memory alone. this helps me both phrase the topic in my own words and realize what my learning gaps are, rather than just passively summarize without putting effort into truly understanding/memorizing something. anything i get wrong i hammer into my brain until i can't get it wrong anymore.
take notes effectively. our brain does not learn in sentences and paragraphs. it learns in bullet points, diagrams, and figures--and that's how i like to frame my notes. first i ask myself if i actually need to take notes to begin with, or if there are online notes out there i can use to save time (which, as a stem student, there typically are). if i do decide to take notes, i never mindlessly summarize. i always condense the material into bullet points, diagrams, concept maps, or visual representations. i also like to phrase my notes as questions rather than just passive summaries, so that when i review them i'm already testing myself in a way. most people would not understand my notes bc they're either very low-yield stuff, stuff i'm weak in, or bare-bones fragments of information.
always prioritize weaknesses. if you're weaker at chapter 18 of your textbook vs chapter 1, maybe start with chapter 18. don't spend 6 hours taking notes on chapter 1 if you're already strong in chapter 1. always attack your weaknesses first.
practice practice practice!! so so important. i owe all my As to mock exams, quizzes i make myself, end-of-chapter questions etc etc. imo practice matters a lot more than passive content review.
interleaving concepts helps with retention. an example of this is i like to do biology and chemistry one day, biochemistry and organic chemistry the next day, physics and psychology the day after... i'm not just doing biology all day, every day. another thing i like to do if i'm in a massive rut is i hop between tons of different subjects on the same day, which keeps me from getting bored/helps me understand the subjects better through distinguishing their differences.
retrospective timetable. an example of this is if i find i'm pretty weak in a particular physics topic, the next few days will disproportionately focus on physics over other subjects. inversely, if i just breezed through a biology chapter, the next few days will have less biology than initially planned. i'm constantly going back and revising my study timetable based on my performance of the day, rather than relying on a rigid prospective timetable that doesn't take into account my progress.
less passive learning, more active. spaced repetition is a big one. i love anki for this bc there's an algorithm that dictates how often topics come up again based on how well you answer them. other methods include active recall, having friends quiz you, and trying to teach the topic to others (or the plushie in your bedroom haha). if you find you're struggling to simplify topics and explain them, that's a sign you don't understand them very well yourself.
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blossomwritesthings · 10 months ago
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𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. | 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠
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⬷ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ┊ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →
pairing: felix x fem!reader (afab) // chan x fem!reader (afab)
genre: nonidol/collegegrad!felix. waitress!reader. college au. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. friends to enemies to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining. cheating. abusive boyfriend/ex. drama galore. the sexual tension is REAL in this one.
content & warnings: depictions of domestic & verbal abuse are at the beginning of this chapter, please take care in reading. explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. felix is reader's estranged childhood bestie. chan is low-key an asshole in this ngl. heavy topics are mentioned such as: abusive/toxic relationships, cheating, and pathological lying. drinking/partying. the summer vibes are real in this one. there will be humor/fluff throughout to balance everything. and ofc smut too because who am i if not a whore for filthy felix smut. 😉
word count: 3.0k
summary: ever since you were born, all you've ever known is living a simple life in the small australian coastal town of bridgeport bay. you're content with working at your parent's beachside restaurant angel waves for the rest of your life, and you're happy with your place in the world - you have good friends and an even better boyfriend. that is, until everything comes to a standstill when a familiar face from the past visits town for the summer. and in the wake of his return, lee felix upturns everything you thought you were content with here in your comforting little beach town.
a/n: I wrote this in a fitful manic episode yesterday morning when I should've instead been working on uni hw instead... that's the story of my fucking life, apparently. 💀 we're finally getting to the very climax of this entire fic ya'll... and I promise that this won't be dragged on forever lmao, so there's only a few chapters left to this series~ 😃
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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ
“You are nothing, and you’ll never be anything else besides the girl I fuck on the side,” Chris was saying to you with a deep sneer on his face. He was staring up at you, as he leaned in and kissed Yeji in a lewd kind of way there on the sofa. “I never loved you as much as her.”
 “I fucking hate you…” You started to seethe out in a low voice, your entire body shaking. Yet you couldn’t stop watching - couldn’t stop looking at the train wreck unfolding in front of you. “I fucking hate you so much, do you know that?!” 
 Chris raised an eyebrow your way at your screams, and soon, he was standing up from the couch, trailing over to you silently with brooding eyes and sloped shoulders. Yeji glared at the interruption, clocking you with a nasty frown as she looked on with disinterest. 
 Your ex reached out to you, and despite your best efforts, you weren’t fast enough for him. 
 Soon, he had his hands wrapped in your hair, yanking your head back to display the redness of embarrassment that dusted your cheeks and nose at that moment. 
 “Look at you- all worked up like a pathetic little bitch because you don’t have my attention any longer,” He grumbled, yanking on your roots a little harder and making you yelp out in pain. “You’re truly astonishing— thinking I’d ever love you enough to keep you around.” 
 Instead of replying to his cruel words, you just leaned forward and spit on him. It sprayed across his face, and instantly, you knew that it had been a mistake. 
 The fire in his eyes darkened, and before your mind could even register what was happening, he was pushing you to the side so hard, that you fell across the floor at his feet. One side of your face hit the hardwood with a resounding slap, pain immediately radiating across your left cheek.
 Soon, he was getting on top of you, hitting you across the cheek before taking hold of the column of your neck and beginning to squeeze. 
 The grip was so strong, you could feel your pulse racing at the base of your throat. Your heartbeats clamored in your ears, drowning out all other sounds - the way you could hear Yeji snicker in the background, and how he was saying something. 
 His lips were moving, but you couldn’t hear a single word. 
 Instead, you could only feel the way the warm tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes, the way your limbs shook underneath Chris as he pinned you down to the floor. 
 “Stupid cunt- you think you have the right to spit on me?! I’ll teach you a lesson!” That’s the last words you caught before he squeezed even tighter. 
 The blackness took over everything, bleeding into the corners of your vision and blurring your surroundings. And soon, you were closing your eyes to stave off some of the hurt. To hide from the way the two of them looked on at you like that - their faces painted in evil streaks of crimsons and violets. 
 And for one last time, you let out a guttural, heart-wrenching scream. The kind that strained vocal cords and your throat and made your tongue feel heavy in your mouth. 
Too suddenly, you were being shaken. 
 At first, you thought it was Chris stirring you awake to torture you once more. 
 But, when you cracked your eyes open, you were met with glaring sunlight. The golden, yellow orb was hanging high in the sky, shining against a bright blue backdrop. It twinkled through the nearby curtained window, casting everything around you in a soft kind of hue. 
 Then, you realized the position you were in. And turning away from the window, you noticed… 
 Felix. 
 Laying right there beside you, in bed...
 In his bed. 
 And he was holding onto you - arms wrapped around your waist tightly. 
 He was the one who had been shaking you. 
 Shaking you awake. 
 Felix was staring at you, dark brows pulled together in concern and faded, blonde locks messy from the pillow he was lying on. Reaching out, he brushed a gentle finger underneath your chin, before resting his warm palm against your cheek. “Angel… are you alright?” He asked in a soft voice, swiping away your excess tears with the pads of his thumbs. 
 “I-I had a bad dream, that’s all.” You said, not being able to hold eye contact with him anymore and looking away. Slowly, you turned in his arms to catch small glimpses of his room. 
 It was almost the exact same as when you had last seen it, all those years ago, before he had left for Korea to attend university. His full bed frame was decorated with the seashells he had found on the nearby beach as a middle schooler, the ones he had glued into the wood with your help one weekend during the summer a decade before. He still slept with his dark blue comforter that was just as soft as you remembered it. The rest of his bedroom was decorated similarly, with dark blue and white accents throughout. 
 His desk was full of junk - crumpled-up papers and clothes and shopping bags. He was a spender, that was for sure. His nearby dresser had a collection of skincare products on top of it… ranging from different toners, about five moisturizers, and a bunch of other things you had no clue what the uses were for. 
 “Nothing’s changed in here.” You mused softly, turning on your side slowly so that he wasn’t holding onto you so tight. But Felix took your stirring as a sign that you wanted to be free of his grip, so he began to shift his arms away. “No— please, don’t.” You reached out to his retreating arms, already feeling the tears well up in your eyes again. “I— I need you right now.” 
 Felix gave you a faint smile, a tiny bit of his eyes sparkling in mirth as he reached out and pulled you even closer to him. Soon, you were nestled into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent of musk and vanilla, and feeling comforted by his mere presence. 
 “We slept just like this, you know…” Felix began, and the sound of his voice so close to your ear sent a jolt of energy down the center of your spine. “You… you woke up when I got home and when I tried to sleep on the floor you were— were begging me to hold you. So I— I did.” And as he spoke, you could sense just a tad bit of hesitation from him. Like he felt uncomfortable telling you about the night before, afraid he'd possibly trigger you. 
 “Thank you,” You whispered, burrowing your face in the warmth of his t-shirt, half in embarrassment and half in sadness. “You’re always there for me when no one else is.” 
 “Not all of the time- not for the past four years.” 
 “I know- but that wasn’t your fault. You… You were just protecting yourself.” 
 Felix scoffed dryly, and there wasn’t an ounce of humor in the laugh. “Yeah— protecting myself, that’s what I was doing.”
 Slowly, you turned away from his chest and stared up at him. And only then did you realize how close the two of you were. You could practically feel his warm breath fanning against your cheek from the closeness. You could see every single dark freckle that was scattered in the constellation across his cheeks and nose. And on impulse, without even realizing it, you were reaching your hand out and brushing a few of your fingers against his smattering of freckles. You could feel the way he tensed up underneath the touch, holding your gaze as you studied his soft skin. 
 “You’re the single-most person to ever be there for me, no matter what, Felix,” You muttered in a low voice, tracing the slope of his nose and sharp jawline with your index finger. “And it doesn’t matter who was at fault for the last few years… it was both of us, I think. But despite all of that shit from the past— you came back to me. And you’re here now, unlike… other people in my life.”
 “Of course, I’ll always be here for you, y/n,” Felix started, clasping a warm hand over yours and squeezing it tightly, pressing your palm against his cheek and leaning into the touch ever so slowly. “And I’m sorry about the silence, from all of those years ago. It was shitty of me to do.” 
 “Yeah, I’m sorry too.” 
 “And I’m sorry about Chris— I… I should’ve warned you that—“
 “No. Don’t even start with that bullshit. You did nothing wrong. And besides, you tried to warn me. For such a long time. But I… I was blinded, like a stupid fucking idiot and I—”
 You felt slim fingers fitting across your mouth before you could say anything else, as Felix covered your lips to stop you from talking. “Do not call yourself that. You’re none of those things, I don’t care what Chris tries to tell you.” 
 Staring up at him, you saw all the emotions so clearly flowing through his eyes just then… adoration, sadness, and even anger. You swallowed down the feelings that were starting to bubble up around the lump that had formed in your throat from the night before. 
 “Do you… wanna talk about your dream?” Felix asked, hesitantly, like he had been wanting to bring up the subject but didn’t know how. 
 Your fingers grasped onto his wrist, pulling his hand back just gradually so that you could place a soft kiss against his open palm. Then you were guiding it back to your waist. 
 “It was— scary. He was scary in it, and… so was Yeji.” 
 “You know, you can cry about it if you want. This is a safe space for whatever you’re feeling right now.” 
 “Yeah, I know,” You flashed him a gradual, humorless smile. “I guess I’m just too exhausted to do anything else but lay here. I feel like— he doesn’t even deserve my time or emotional energy.” 
 “Well yeah, and you did cry yourself to sleep last night, so maybe that’s why you have no tears left.” 
 Your eyes widened in surprise at Felix’s words. But it made sense, from the way that your throat felt all scratchy and dry, and your eyes were puffy at the edges. “I bet I was a fucking mess last night.” Scoffing, you shook your head in disbelief. You wished you could’ve been stronger the night before, but at the time, you just had no more energy to fight off the feelings. 
 “A beautiful one, that’s for sure.” 
 Felix’s words were met with deafening silence for a few moments, as you processed them. All you could hear was the faint whirr of the nearby air conditioner wall unit and the soft lapping of waves against the shoreline just outside of his window. 
 Your eyes flicked up to him just then, and you raised a quizzical eyebrow to play off how badly his words had affected you. Shoving his shoulder playfully, you chuckled heartily. “Yeah, if you call runny mascara and a swollen face beautiful…” 
 After that, the room grew quiet once more. 
 But it wasn’t an awkward kind of quiet. It was the kind you had been so used to with Felix, the one that was comfortable and heartwarming. 
 And soon, you found your lips moving again and your voice flowing out once more. 
 “I should’ve known, that he would do something like this… I mean, he was the fucking star of the soccer team in high school. He had girls at his beck and call every single second of the day.” 
 “No one could’ve known, angel. Don’t beat yourself up over it.” 
 Felix’s words did little to soothe your racing heart and mind. 
 And while half of the emotions you were feeling were due to Chris and the fresh breakup, the other half were… things you didn’t know how to put a name to. Things you had no clue about. But all that you knew, what that they related to... Felix.
 “You did, Lix.” 
 Shrugging nonchalantly, Felix rolled his eyes dramatically to try and take some of the tension out of the stifling air around the two of you in bed. “I don’t count in this equation, ‘cause I always know these kinds of things.” 
 Slowly, you began to pull away from his arms. And the sudden absence of his hold around you forced anxious butterflies to stir in the pit of your stomach. But one look outside of the nearby window behind Felix, and you could tell that it was growing late in the morning. 
 “I was out all night- my parents will start to worry if I stay here any longer.” You said as an explanation when Felix tried to reach out to hold you again. Because as much as you wanted to stay there with him - basking under the warm sunlight and curling up against his side underneath the blankets - you also had other responsibilities to attend to. Like working at��Angel Waves and studying for an upcoming exam you had. 
 “Don’t even worry about it, I understand.” Felix flashed you a gentle smile. But you knew him well enough - had grown up with him for most of your life - and you knew when he was feeling sad. Because at that moment, you supposed he would also feel your absence from his bed and arms. 
 It was only after you stumbled out of his sheets that you remembered what you had been wearing the night before on your date with Chris. The short, red mini-dress that he always loved. Too bad it wasn’t enough to keep him, though, the dark thought crossed your mind so quickly it was hard to stop it.But as quickly as it dawned upon you, you also decided to brush it away. 
 Because there was no use in crying over a man who didn’t love you. Who hadn’t loved you in probably a very long time. Who had been shanking you in the back with a knife since day one. 
 You could physically feel Felix’s gaze on you, as you awkwardly yanked down the sides of your dress. But it was so fucking short, it barely covered your ass. You reached down near the bed frame to pick up your purse and shoes that had been cast aside haphazardly. And when you stood up, Felix was already out of bed and right beside you, holding out a lengthy jacket. 
 “What’s this for?” You asked skeptically, as you took it from his hands. Raising a questioning eyebrow his way, you slipped it on and were immediately overcome with the familiar scent of him. It was comforting and pleasant and… made the butterflies in your stomach flitter around in a frenzy. 
 For a few moments, Felix’s gaze left yours and traveled down the expanse of your body, skirting up your legs and stopping somewhere at your… middle, before landing back on your face. From a few beats, a dark look crossed over his face. Like he was thinking about something entirely different than you covering up in his jacket. “Uhm— probably wouldn’t want your parents to see you wearing that when you walk in the front door this morning.” Felix chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his head like he always did when he was feeling awkward. 
 “It’s fine, I’ll just climb through my bedroom window.” 
 “Still, take it.” 
 “Why?” You said in a low voice, twirling around in your spot tauntingly with the jacket covering your shoulders. “Because it’s too... slutty?” 
 Felix gave you a deadpanned look, the sparkle in his irises twinkling just a little bit at your teasing. “No, I just mean that—“ 
 Laughing heartily at the way pink began to dust across his cheeks and the tip of his nose, you slapped his arm playfully. “Don’t worry about it Lix, I was just teasing ya.” 
 Just then, you caught sight of the clock that was on top of his dresser. The time read just past eleven in the morning. You could feel the anxiety beginning to rise inside of you as you realized how late it was... 
 And your mind registered just how long you had spent at his childhood house, in his bedroom, in his bed. With him. 
“Shit— it’s getting really fucking late, I gotta go!” You scrambled to slip your heels on, shouldering your small purse and wrapping the jacket a little tighter around your waist. Reaching forward, you grabbed Felix’s hand and squeezed it once. “Thank you so much, for everything. I owe you big time, Lix. Keep in touch, yeah?” 
 Felix tilted his head just marginally to the side, offering you an easy smile. “You don’t have to thank me, angel. It’s what... friends do.” 
 And the entire five-minute walk home, after you left Felix’s house, your mind kept repeating his last words to you over and over again. 
 But… 
 Friends don’t call each other beautiful, 
 Friends don’t hold each other in bed like that, 
 Friends don’t beg for the other not to let go, 
 Friends don’t kiss each other’s palms, 
 Friends don’t look at each other’s bodies with such a ravenous heat in their eyes, 
 Not like Felix had done just that morning when he looked you up and down. 
 Yes, friends definitely don't do any of that. 
To be continued...
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aaakikoo · 4 months ago
Text
random low effort Attack On Titan headcanons
-> here is the girl ver!
-> nothing is 18+ so everyone can interact, some of these could be a lil icky n they could give ur favs an ick but some r rlly sweet too <3 (not rlly only for the guys)
-> guy ver
MIKASA A.
has a collection of tote bags
likes to collect sanrio related things
uses balaclavas in the winter
as strong as she is she doesn’t like ball sports especially like football (soccer if ur american), and volleyball
has eren @ on her insta
calls levi “uncle”
loves chunky knit sweaters
loves cigarettes after sex, mitski and steve lacy
loves every type of pasta
uses mascara and lipgloss on a daily basis
sunscreen is a must for her and she has an AM and PM skincare she has such perfect skin!
uses black and red nail polish
HANGE Z.
wears rectangular glasses
a huge maximalist, and loves to own weird stuff and tries out the weirdest recipes
has a library in her house with an office
drinks coffee every single day in the morning
sleeps with a sports bra
lactose intolerant
samsung owner lmao idk she gives off that vibe
sleeps with 4+ pillows
uses spray shampoo and body aux instead of showering (showers once a week☠️)
SASHA B.
obviously a huge foodie but for some reason she doesn’t like fish idk lmao
has freckles
loves to watch mukbangs and ASMR
owns a dog
her favorite colour is green and pink
has a preppy/vintage american/fem style
loves all type of earrings
consistently posts on insta and finsta
uses face masks every sunday
gets oily hair quite quick but she doesn’t have a smelly body oder
her favourite fruits r strawberries, bananas, & tangerines
sleeps in silk pjs
ANNIE L.
secretly likes lana del rey and the weeknd
has a whole playlist dedicated to armin
drives like a pro
has perfect skin and hair without trying
kind of wants to start using makeup but is too shy to ask or learn or even go out wearing some so she just wears red lipstick
loves french tips
loves silver jewellery
uses a tons of scarfs during the winter
doesn’t like sweets at all and gets super overwhelmed by their taste
has amazing stamina (obviously)
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beauty-and-passion · 1 year ago
Note
sooooo, latest video
Well... it seems like there is a video XD
Jokes aside, thanks anon for letting me know Mr. Sanders posted a video that was Sanders Sides related. Kudos for that <3
Then... I have some thoughts about this video. Thoughts I will divide into pros and cons, to make everything easier to explain.
If you don’t like long posts or reading criticism of any kind, please save yourself (and myself) some time and ignore this post. I won’t get offended, I promise.
__________________________________
PROS
A real Aside
It looks like Thomas finally learned the difference between Asides and main episodes. It took him three years, but he finally realized that the Asides should be simple, no plot-related stuff. Good to see he finally got it.
(Still don’t understand why ATHD is a main episode, tho. It’s not plot-related and it’s very clearly more low-effort than FWSA and DWIT. Maybe Thomas didn’t want to leave it all by itself?)
-------------------
Some hopes for the characters
I was very relieved to see that the characters’ personalities are not completely butchered. There are a few things I will talk about in the cons section, but the overall vibe has stayed more or less the same. I’m especially relieved Virgil isn’t the fratboy he was in Thomas’ latest Instagram post, in which he talked all fratboy-esque and I almost expected him to bully me and steal my lunch.
The most in characters are Janus and Remus, which is nice to see too. Remus in particular, is still a chaotic rat man and I love him so much.
-------------------
Remus is my chaotic child
I personally think the best part of the whole video is Remus saying the others told him he could kill Bing Bong. I laughed so hard, I had to stop the video. That wonderful, chaotic rat man deserves to kill everything, as a treat <3
But actually, everything Remus says is great and that proves he’s the best, in this essay I will-
__________________________________
CONS
A weird start
Let me recap my experience while watching the video for the first time.
So, the video starts and I’m welcomed by this guy with an orange shirt and blue hat, all happy and excited. For a split second, I think he’s Patton… but then, a Patton-esque guy with a sweater appears.
Okay, now I’m confused because I have no idea what’s happening here and don’t know who these guys are - I mean, if sweater guy is Patton, who is the orange guy? The orange side was introduced and I missed it? What’s happening here? Who are they? Are those the Inside Out characters as seen by Thomas? Will these guys meet their Sanders Sides “counterparts”?
But then another guy appears and he looks like Janus, so now I’m really lost because, seriously, who are these people? They call each other by name so they should be the Sides, but they also call the orange guy “Joy”, so who is this guy? Who are they? Are they the Inside Out characters cosplaying the Sides? Or vice-versa? What’s happening here?
I got my answer, only when Virgil appeared and clarified this was all a weird roleplay.
I have several questions:
Was it really necessary?
Why?
No, seriously, why? The Sides are the first to admit they aren’t an exact match to the Inside Out characters, so why doing this? Why flatten their multifaceted roles and personalities to do this? Because Mr. Sanders isn’t able to handle them?
Okay, fine, I know why Mr. Sanders wanted to do this weird roleplay and it could’ve been fun to see the Sides acting as the Inside Out characters… if only the Sides’ personalities stayed the same. But since their personalities are not the same anymore, all the viewers feel are confusion and a weird sense of “something’s wrong here”, which they can’t exactly pinpoint.
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Wrong aesthetics and confused personalities
In order to explain this point, I will bring two examples: Janus and Roman.
First of all, Janus. I know, he’s our beloved sassy queen and we all love him… but his aesthetic in this episode was completely wrong.
Janus is a character who wears layers upon layers of clothing. That’s the first thing you get, the first thing that characterizes him. But in this episode, he wears nothing but a gilet and a scarf. He shows with bare arms, bare shoulders, a deep V-neck and doesn't wear his gloves: for his standard, he’s basically naked.
You can tell me: “It was to match Disgust’s dress”. But since Remus put his own color on the costume, why couldn’t Janus put his own twist too? He’s not doing a perfect cosplay after all. So why not wear a sheer shirt underneath the gilet, to mimic the “nakedness” without showing his skin? Or a greenish/yellow shirt to match both his and Disgust’s aesthetic? I know Mr. Sanders loves to show his skin, but since he created a character whose aesthetic is to not show skin, why “strip” him just to show some more skin? Did Mr. Sanders forgot this aspect of Janus’ character?
But if Janus had at least his face and personality to remind us who he is, Roman had nothing. Seriously, look me in the eye and tell me that, when you saw that guy in orange, you immediately thought: “Ah yes, here is Roman”. There was no way to recognize him, because he had nothing of Roman.
First of all, not a single drop of red anywhere. And I know, roleplay and whatever… but Mr. Sanders is a theater man. He knows the importance of colors. He created seven characters by associating a color to each of them. And yet, Roman appeared without a drop of red, while Remus had no problem turning Fear’s sweater into green.
That doesn't mean Roman had to turn full red, but he could wear a red accessory at least: a bracelet, a necklace, a pin on his hat, whatever. Logan’s tie was blue after all. Or wasn’t Roman allowed to put a twist on his cosplay? This weird roleplay session gives me more questions than answers :/
Second (and most important), Roman’s personality was nowhere to be found. This guy is a more obnoxious, forced version of Roman. When he talked, I didn’t see a person talking: I saw Mr. Sanders reading a script. Or better, screaming a script. Seriously, why was he so loud? Why was he screaming this much, during the roleplay session? I almost got a headache and I don’t get headaches so easily. Seriously, if I needed to hear him louder, I could’ve turned up the volume of my computer, no need to scream this much.
-------------------
The makeup and the importance of details
The dark sides’ makeup has been butchered.
Remus’ eyeshadow used to be of a deep dark black/blue/purple. So why is it so light? Because of the roleplay? But it’s still light after the roleplay. What happened, did Thomas finish the eyeshadow? It’s not too expensive, can’t he buy some more?
Same goes for Virgil: his eyeshadow is basically non-existent. And that’s even weirder, considering that in the Christmas episode, he said he wanted darker makeup to match the darkness of his soul. Does that mean his soul isn’t dark anymore?
And then, Janus. My poor, beloved Janus. His makeup used to be impressive, with scales of a deep green/yellow/brown hue: now they look more like a weird, yellow-y rash, with a thin black line crossing them (probably made with an eye pencil?).
I know Thomas doesn’t have the same makeup artist, but experts exist. And if the one he has isn’t doing their job well, then I’m sorry, but he should hire another one. That’s not being mean, that’s being real.
And before any of you says: “That’s just a detail, you’re being nitpicky”... sure, you can see it like that. But let’s say someone gives you a cake and when you see it, there are missing decorations, the fondant doesn’t fully cover the cake and the phrase “Happy birthday” is wonky. And when you eat it, it has a weird aftertaste too. Sure, it was a gift, but would you think “That was the best ever!” or would you think “Thanks, but you could’ve spent a little more time making it better”?
Heck, you can apply the same concept with this post too! If I posted something with incorrect grammar and misspelled words, would you be happy? Or would you think “man, you could’ve spent a couple more minutes to correct it”?
Skipping details doesn’t make me think you care about your work: it makes me think that either you’re lazy or don’t really care. And if you’re okay with something with missing details, good for you. But from someone with a certain degree of expertise/professionalism like Mr. Sanders, I expect something professional too.
-------------------
Subtle vs thrown in your face
I enjoy the “Janus being a wine mom” thing: it’s funny, it makes me smile, poor boy dealing with the little shits he has around, please give him wine.
But you know what’s really funny about this? That it’s subtle. It happens once in a while. It’s not thrown in the face. And it’s not thrown in the face like that, with Sides luring Janus with wine, almost as if he’s an alcoholic and you can use wine to make him do anything.
Also because the whole “Janus loves wine” thing doesn’t work too well with the functions he embodies. I mean, this guy is responsible for lies. Do you really think lies and alcohol work well together? You need to be extremely lucid and focused to be a good liar. And I don’t think I have to explain to you why alcohol and self-preservation don’t work well together either.
So seeing him with a glass once in a while is funny, but seeing him being all like “you promised me wine” as if wine is his drug… that’s not funny.
Speaking of things that are funny when not thrown in the face, let’s talk about “falsehood” too.
Just like the wine, falsehood was funny when it came once in a while. It wasn’t a switch you could press and bam, Logan says “Falsehood!”. It was a momentarily outburst because Logan’s main reaction isn’t to yell: Logan’s main reaction is to explain things by using cold logic. Because that’s who he is: logic.
So, when I see him dropping a “falsehood” like this, I don’t enjoy it. I feel it old and stale. And it saddens me too, because it looks like Thomas is using the easiest bait to get his fans’ attention. A bit like a bunch of dangling keys: see? Your favorite character says his catchphrase! Now laugh!
-------------------
Apollo gave me the gift of prophecy (or maybe it was just too obvious this would happen)
Right after Roman stops screaming, Virgil starts screaming. And he does it in the most out-of-character way, for the most out-of-character reason.
Since the Q&A episode from season one, Virgil was the first one to tell Thomas that Anxiety looks different for anyone and that he specifically chose the dark persona to keep “everyone’s guard up”.
So why is he complaining so much about a movie representation of Anxiety now? And why should everyone remind him that hey, Anxiety looks different for everyone? He should already know that. He was the first to tell that.
Do you know what this is? No, not a pathetic excuse to talk about a trending topic (i.e. Inside Out). It’s proof I was fucking right and of course I was, because I experienced it too.
What did I say in my old post about the problem with this series? That SaSi doesn’t have an outline. And what happens when you don’t have an outline and, instead of focusing on that project/writing an outline, you do 20 other different things instead? That more time will pass. And the more time will pass, the more you will forget things you already talked about.
Like, you know, a topic from season 1 that was clarified, over and done by the same character who now forgot it.
-------------------
The golden goose will never die
Call me a conspiracy theorist or just an old hag with a heart of stone. But I really would like to know the real reason why, deep down, Thomas made this video.
I doubt it was because he missed the Sides and wanted to do something with them. He doesn’t miss them the slightest, it’s quite clear. He doesn’t even care enough to remember what their personalities are supposed to be, how can he "miss" them?
But oh look, there was new merch to advertise. And Inside Out is a trending topic and the fandom knows about the association between SaSi and the movie. So if Mr. Sanders makes the right video at the right time, he can get a lot of views with minimal effort.
But he should advertise a shirt with all Sides in, so he can’t just make a video about Virgil reacting to a trailer: he needs all of the Sides to be there. So, let’s rush a video with the first idea that popped into his mind: that Virgil doesn’t like the Inside Out take on Anxiety.
Maybe that’s not what truly happened in his mind and behind the scenes. Maybe Mr. Sanders really just wanted to make a video with the Sides and I’m a cynical, heartless person. Personally, I would be way happier to know I was wrong and there weren’t ulterior motives behind this video.
But without any actual proof, I won’t believe this video was made just for passion. Passion doesn’t make you skip details. Passion doesn’t make you put on a sloppy video, without taking two more minutes to check if your characters are IC or the topic you want to talk about makes sense.
Believe me, I’m very sad to say this. I don’t want to think all of this. I always try to be optimistic and think good of people. But if this is what I get, how can I believe this video was made with good intentions and no ulterior motives? Especially since it’s coming from a guy who can be accurate, detail-oriented, and very subtle while acting? He did all of this in the past: now it looks like he forgot everything.
If you want to still watch this Aside, do it. If you enjoy it, even better. For me, that was just a tiny waste of time and it left me nothing except a momentary smile. At the end of the day, I don’t even care enough to watch it twice. And for me, that's a failure, coming from a series I used to watch on repeat.
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infini-tree · 9 months ago
Text
episodic - part 3
< back | next >
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Summary: It's business as usual. At least it looks like it, and that has to count for something. The boys do a bit of arts and crafts. Krupp takes a step back.
A/N: literally the worst part of writing fic for CU is trying to think of pranks. they’re up there with choreographing fight scenes. also these next chapters were brought to you by: me referencing the movie’s art book i got as a gift. Locations And Fascinating Objects section my beloved…
this chapter's scene went through a lot of shuffling-- melvin was supposed to be in this one. but alas, once this was finalized he was pushed back into the next chapter. ideally. at the earliest. its been almost 4 years, i swear he actually has a part to play in this AU, he's technically part of the core secondary cast--
---------------------
Back in the present day, the boys snuck into the art room. Even now, there wasn’t a proper class for it in Jerome Horwitz, despite The Prank For Good. But because of it, Krupp never had the thought to put it under lock and key again. The doors still remained unlocked for any kid that needed it. And George and Harold had a big need. In fact, they had been caching away supplies when no one was looking.
Captain Underpants trailed behind them; he looked at the room and gave a small nod, murmuring something about being “back at the start”.
“What will we be doing this time, sidekicks?” He clapped his hands together. “Oh! I could try and ask for a carnival again–”
“NO!” both of them shouted. The hero jumped up in surprise and stayed in a low hover.
George was the quicker of the two to regain composure. “No, no– we’re doing something different.”
“Oh.”
Harold unpacked the contents of his bag. There was a ridiculous amount of flour and bottles around them, along with other plastic pails and shovels.
“Ooh, are we making a cake? Can I decorate it?” Captain asked.
George sighed. “It’s not for a cake.”
“Well, what is it for?” 
Harold dumped a bunch of flour and oil into the largest bucket with the glee reserved for children about to make a huge mixture of stuff. “Sand!”
When the hero continued to look baffled, George cut in. “With Krupp instating the grade-wide assignment gauntlet, we have to retaliate with the exact opposite of that.”
“…Recess?”
“Close!” Harold began to mix the concoction with a plastic shovel. “Summer vacation!”
“And we need to make a lot to really sell the beach vibe.”
“Oh…” Captain nodded with the confidence of someone who had no idea what that meant. He knelt down and gave a curious sniff at the flour sand, catching the faint whiff of some sort of cooking oil.  mix his own bucket the other boy handed to him.
To make a long story short, they managed to create enough of it to create a sizable layer in at least two classrooms. They hauled the first half of it to Guided’s classroom–or rather, Captain flew it over in record time. He began to push all the desks back and started to stack them high up against the edges of the wall. It reminded Harold of that one time he showed George a boardwalk on a faded postcard, tall buildings looming over sandy beaches.
“Why only two?” Captain asked as he stacked some of the desks on the teacher’s desk. “Why not make the whole school a beach?”
The boys perked up from their efforts to place the sand evenly across the classroom floor.
“‘Cause the first big tests are in Ms. Guided and Ribble’s classrooms,” Harold said.
“We’d have loved to do something big," George explained as he scattered the beach toys. "Really put the last big prank that happened here to shame–”
“But we had to improvise. Go for lots of smaller ones for the first part of this plan, you know?”
“First part?” Captain echoed. 
“Yeah!” Harold continued, ushering them all out of the room. Captain followed in a low hover, and George swept over the remaining footprints with a hand. Looking back at their work, it looked like no one was ever in the room.
“The first bit is to wear all the teachers and Krupp down. And then–”
“Bam.” he punched into his own open palm. “That’s where you come in!”
Captain tilted his head. “I thought this was where I came in?”
“What? No– I mean, we appreciate your help, but you have a bigger part to play here.”
“I do?” he asked.
“We figured you’d want to get back at Krupp, right?” George said. 
Captain was silent, his expression dumbfounded. 
“With enough pressure, he’ll back off from you and he’ll back off with all the sudden assignments!” Harold clarified. “It’ll be great.”
“We’re not sure how long he’s planning on making everyone miserable, but we’re planning for the long game.”
That seemed to make things more murky for him but the curiosity still remained. He tilted his head with furrowed brows, as if trying to figure out the connection between the two facts. “…How long, exactly?” 
“As long as it takes.” Harold gave him a good natured punch to the side. “Now come on, let’s get the other classroom set up.”
The boys grabbed his hands and led him back to the art room, chatting about what else they could do.
---------------------
The school didn’t know what hit them. 
Later that day, the fourth graders enjoyed the slices of beaches in the pair of classrooms. They made their sandcastles and moats as the teachers tried– and failed– to get their papers from their desks buried under their own students’ desks. 
And on the day after that, there was the petting zoo in the math classrooms on the same day a calculator-less test on long division was meant to happen. It was no tiger, but the kids enjoyed petting the sheep. For extra salt in the wound, there were numbers drawn in bright colors on their wool. 
Corralling the animals out was one thing. Finding out they were only Sheeps #1-6 and 8 was another, leaving all the teachers to scramble to find the last sheep of the set for the past few hours.
Apparently, the third time wasn’t the charm as George and Harold were called into the principal’s office. When they walked in, he had never bothered to close one of the desk drawers, clearly embroiled in whatever work principals do. Krupp was faced away from them, yelling into the phone.
“How many times do I have to explain it to you, there probably isn’t a Sheep #7– are you falling asleep counting them?” He turned to face them and grimaced. “I’ll get back to you.” 
He hung up the phone, glaring at them as they took their respective seats. 
“Care to explain the last few days?”
Harold shifted in his seat as he gave a glance to the other boy. “We have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“We were a bit too busy dealing with the sudden wave of assignments and tests to try anything,” George added with a shrug.
“Don’t play innocent with me. The gaps in my memory are extremely obvious.” He waggled an accusatory finger at them.
“Like we said, we were busy–”
“What– watching him get bit by sheep yesterday?!” He held up his other arm filled with band aids of various sizes.
George leaned over to the other boy and whispered, “Man, they can be really vicious, huh?” 
Krupp slammed his fists onto his desk. He opened his hands. Closed them. Before pushing himself off his seat to look down at them. “Whether you’ll actually admit it, I’ll cut to the chase. Stop whatever you’re trying to do.”
“If it was us, why would we? You started it.”
“Oh, hah–” He let out an incredulous, breathless laugh at that. “I started it? You’re one to talk after all you’ve done to me. You should be grateful I don’t just hold you back right now for that comment!”
Harold was unmoved. “Man, you got so much worse– I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Oh, I can do so much worse after your little breaking and entering stunt,” he shot back. “Invading my privacy, looking into things you shouldn’t–”
“So you admit you were talking to him.”
“Now I never said anything about talking, have I?”
George and Harold leveled a glare at him, refusing to give him any confirmation or satisfaction that he was right. “So that is why you cracked down on the entire fourth grade, huh?”
“Or maybe it has to do with the fact that I’m losing sleep over mysterious injuries!” The boys wanted to speak up, but he refused to give them that. “And– and, seeing the school be nearly destroyed multiple times a week.”
“Not like you really cared about the school before,” George grumbled.
Krupp spluttered furiously, turning a new shade of red in the process. “Says the children who keep on endangering it and wasting its resources!"
“We’re saving the school!”
“From problems you made up.” He slowly made his way around his desk to them. “Is that why you made me your little stooge? Were you just tired and wanted to feel important in your little superhero fantasy? Or was getting rid of me the main motivation here?”
George stood up from his chair. “Oh, if we could have, we would have!”
As soon as the words left his mouth, it suddenly felt like the office had turned somewhat askew. Gone was the red in Krupp’s face and gone was the anger– if anything, he looked like he had been slapped in the face. His mouth opened. Closed. Nothing.
The boys were suddenly aware of the clock ticking, now that it was completely silent. George couldn’t help but be reminded of the time he said something that crossed some unseen line with his mom.
And just as quickly as the conversation was fishtailing out of what any of them were used to, the principal clambered for any sense of control.
“I’ll deal with the both of you later.” He put up a hand to rub his temples– and conveniently hid his eyes. “Get out.”
Harold blinked. “What–”
“NOW!” He whipped his arm to point at the door.
They stumbled out of their seats and ran without a second thought.
---------------------
For the rest of the last class of the school day, Harold was sitting on pins and needles as he looked at the clock. While most kids looked at it expectantly for the final bell to ring, right now he was dreading it.  He figured George was doing the same.
Krupp getting the jump on them was a matter of when today , not if, especially when he was as mad as he was earlier.
Five minutes. He glanced to the front of the class. Even Rected was struggling with the new mandate to increase kids’ work. Which, he guessed, made sense– more work for them meant more stuff the teachers had to look at.
Two minutes.
Speaking of work, he was quickly scribbling out some ideas for the next issues. Though he couldn’t help but let his mind wander off to the other prank plans they had– he figured by the way Rected was pulling at his hair, they can bring Captain in for the cherry on top by the end of next week–
The speakers screeched to life. There was a beat of silence long enough for someone to ask if Krupp called an announcement on accident, until–
“Pop science fair, end of this week,” he said tersely. “Hope you can wow the teachers, since this is now a good chunk of your mark. How much? That’s the ‘pop’ part of that.”
The kids began to groan and slam their heads on their desks. Even more heads fell on their desks as another screech echoed through the school.
“You have George Beard and Harold Hutchins to thank for that. That will be all.”
The bell rang. One by one, everyone turned his direction, some shocked, others confused, many furious. Even Mr. Rected gave a baffled look.
After dodging the onslaught of kids ready to hound him or worse due to the announcement, he found George running down the hallway for similar reasons. At some point along the way, the other boy got their skateboards and helmets. With a frantic throw, they skateboarded out of the front yard and down the quickest route to their house.
“George?” Harold said, once they turned to their street. He had been eerily silent the whole time.
The other boy jumped off his own board and pulled his helmet off. He could see how much sweat was on his forehead now.
“Change of plans–” He stomped the end of the skateboard to make it stand before quickly grabbing it. “We’re taking stock of everything tonight.”
Harold stared at him. He knew why– he could still feel a flare of indignation from that announcement.
It was like George read his mind. “What Krupp said– those were fighting words. We’re going to move the Captain Plan up next.”
He gave a curt nod.
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gretahayes · 2 years ago
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more core four repair shop au thoughts;
the fixing shop gives very much cosy small candy shop vibes despite it being like...two stories tall and a mix of a woodworking station, a metalworking station, a forge, a car mechanic, a tech store, a tailor store, a toy store, a library (tim and bart like to read and go through reading material fast, so they figured they may as well), and a sort of bakery.
(it's only a bakery when kon keeps everyone else out of the kitchen (yes they have a kitchen, keep up) for long enough to bake successfully. if he succeeds, you get whatever new recipe he tried out that day, or the old reliables. the old reliables come out when he's having a busy or rough day and wants something low-effort and comforting.)
(also, he doesn't sell what he bakes. he gives them out. unless you've got three hours to argue over paying, you're getting it for free.)
it's got a big winding staircase leading up to the second storey and just like a hole. smackdab in the middle of the store, so they can lean over the railing and yell to each other
it's also much bigger on the inside than the outside. how? magic. (when the core four says this, locals laugh and take it as a joke. it is not a joke. they now owe zatanna a favor)
new branches are constantly being added, and new stuff. one day they picked up crocheting and suddenly there was crocheted stuff for sale. anita popped by and for a few days, second hand kid toys/clothes were offered.
it's not a cafe but they've got a good coffee machine, a lot of mugs, the Good Coffee™, and all know how to make good drinks. if you've got a few bucks to spare, it's heavenly.
tim fixes cameras sometimes :) he's had a lot of cameras through his lifetime and marvels at antiques, well-loved cameras, and newer models all the same.
cassie fixes weapons! cosplayers and people who just have weapons on hand come to the shop, drop it off, and a day/week later their weapon is fixed.
if you come when cissie's visiting, she'll help you with your bow.
traya visits with flowers and is a very chatty and helpful salesperson for the day until she's got to go back home. she also refuses to "sell" stuff without collecting any money.
bart knows how to do almost everything so he does a lot of the work, but it keeps him busy and there's a lot of different stuff to be fixed so he never gets bored.
when asked by the titans or the jla members they're related to/mentor them how it's going, they usually only tell the hero stuff, which is wild because Small Town Nonsense, so the justice league is like oh my God???? are you guys okay over there?? are you sure you don't need help??
they're like no we're living our peaceful cottagecore dream literally fuck off??
justice league: you got dismembered yesterday??
core four: the demon was just a scared kid, plus they gave us our limbs back, it's literally fine.
justice league: we don't think-
core four: we're about plant a garden. fuck off.
the titans at least visit Sometimes (dick, donna and wally obviously, but they won't object to a visit from kori or vic or gar) so they know the core four are happy and mostly vibing so they don't have many protests.
sometimes they've got baby heroes their shop, jai and irey poking around, damian petting their emotional support dog (her name is buddy. she is not a trained emotional support dog but she is very good at listening. she's part golden retriever and part princess of hell. don't ask.), assorted speedsters and arrowfam teens coming and going.
their town (and shop because they've got an alien, a speedster, and a demigod. it's a cauldron of magic) is sort of at the point where the dimensional barrier is sort of...thin? so sometimes they've got other versions of baby heroes in their shop, just chilling until they can get them back home.
on one notable occasion, they've had a teen mar'i, a toddler jackson hyde, a pre-teen cerdian and robbie, and a six-year-old chris kent all at the same time. that's the most like parents they've ever felt.
tim knew they'd all end up crashing in one bed so he just bought like...an alaskan king size bed in one room then regular beds in the others. he was not going to lie to himself.
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