#what the fuck is wrong with them i can't look away

[suiana]

thinking about a yandere who was cursed by the gods (something similar to medusa), not because he did anything wrong, but because they found him too beautiful and too tempting.

what was once a god of a man was now but... still a handsome man, just with cursed eyes. with eyes that turn anyone into stone the second he gazes upon them. everyone who he once knew were now nothing more than mere statues, having glanced upon his beautiful eyes that now bring death.

he has chosen to live in solitude, away from everyon- well, not really. it's just that the once lively place he lived in.... wasn't so lively after all. i mean, they all turned into stone 💀

anyway, he shut everyone out because #1 they were all dead and #2 he didn't want to lose another person that he loved. what better way than to just... not interact with society and become a social hermit?

enter, you.

little ol' you who accidentally wandered into his place. he was flabbergasted and terrified. shit, he didn't want to kill an innocent person! so he tried to scare you away by making weird noises and blockign off your path while simultaneously not showing his eyes.

but wow, you just kept coming closer and closer!

"stay back! i'm warning you! you'll regret it!"

he tried to cover his eyes, tears threatening to spill from them as he absolutely majestiv form trembled on the spot. man, was he really about to take the life of another innocent person who didn't deserve to get turned into stone??

then you told him you were blind and he felt the fear leave his body as fast as it came.

from then on, the two of you chatted daily, talking about your different lives and such. it helped him regain a sense of... normalcy that he thought he'd forgotten. it was nice having you around.

so much so that he actually started to develop feelings for you. feelings that were so deep and obsessive that others would've probably ran away. not you though, never you. you were the only one to stay by his side despite his unusal predicament. perhaps the gods were sorry for playing such a cruel fate on him and decided to give him a blessing?

wrong.

"sweetheart! sweetheart! it's a miracle!"

your voice snaps him out of his daze, filling him with a giddy feeling that he's come to love and crave. oh you are just so delightful! he swears he could just lock you up to coddle you in hugs and kisses for the rest of his miserable little life!

"darling? what miracle?"

he pauses, feeling his heart drop into his stomach the second you enter his room without your usual glasses on. wait... what are you-

"i've regained my sight! bless the heavens above i-"

"no! no! no! don't look!"

but it was all for naught. you had already turned to stone.

"fuck! why did this happen?! no no no.... please wake up. please, you can't leave me too!"

the beautiful man sobs, cradling you in his arms as his salty tears fall onto your now stone cold cheeks. he cries and begs, voice growing softer and softer as the sun begins to set. how could the gods be so cruel? what had he done so wrong for them to subject him to such a fate? fine! take away his friends! take away his family! but why did they have to take you too?

"please come back...."

things were only made worse because today was the day when he'd finally decided to ask you to spend the rest of your lives together.

[space-blue]

It's horrible too if Jinx lives!!

OK, I guess we're doing this?

People keep coming at me for my post about Jinx dying being terrible writing and promoting suicide by heroics as a valid way out, and the argument is always "Actually, Jinx is alive because XYZ"

So let me makes myself clear : if Jinx lives, it's also terrible writing!!

Because for all intent and purposes, she DOES DIE! Even if she's alive and fucked off in that blimp, she's still dead to everyone who knew and loved her.

WORSE! Vi will go on thinking for the rest of her life that Jinx died because of her, or at the very least that she couldn't save her.

It's not for no reason that Vi has this scene in the cell with Caitlyn, where she says she always choses wrong. In the scene on the crumbling metal beam, Vi choses not to listen to Jinx!

People got in my comments saying I have no humanity for reproving Vi picking "Vander's corpse" over Jinx. But what we see happen is Jinx telling Vi multiple time to get away and how to get to safety, and Vi completely ignoring her to interact with Vander/WW, only for him to wake up, attack her, and force Jinx to risk her life to save Vi.

Vi made a choice, between more time with Vander and listening to Jinx, and the price paid in the end is Jinx dying.

What if she lived and escaped? Vi doesn't know that! Ekko doesn't know that! Or Sevika! Or anyone!

Thought exercise time: close your eyes and imagine a relative disappearing for your life after a lethal accident you're involved in. You never recover a body and never see them again. How do you feel about it? Mmh?

"Oh but Caitlyn sees the schematics that show a side tunnel…"

Firstly, Caitlyn was nowhere near the event, and she can't frame-by-frame the explosion as we do, so you can hardly claim she's looking for Jinx and not, for example, the arcane gem, or Warwick.

Vander/WW was shown to be entirely impervious to the bullets from Jinx's automatic gun. If anyone has a chance of surviving, it'd be him.

But do you know what? If Jinx is in that blimp, and Caitlyn then tells Vi, "From the schematic, I think your sister could have escaped" (ignoring entirely the fact that Jinx should be cut in half by WW's claws wrapped around her waist), then what would happen???

That would send Vi on a wild goose's chase!! How many years would she spend hunting through Zaun trying to find her sister? How many years until she starts resenting Caitlyn for giving her false hope? How many years until she's forced to accept Jinx isn't anywhere, and so must have died back then, and has to see herself as Jinx's killer all over again??

How is this good for Vi?

And Ekko? He pulled her out of suicide what? 5 times? Had some epic bonding with her painting all over each other, doing self-care and hair dyes and fixing a balloon so they could go on a big attack together.

Maybe he thought he could genuinely finally be close to his world's Powder. Silco just taught him the greatest thing he can do is forgive, and the girl he forgives fakes her death and runs away?

They're barely 20 ffs, Jinx would have plenty of time to struggle on the road to recovery, especially with his help. What if Ekko was ready to be there along the way with her? What about him?

How is it good if Jinx is NOT dead but has NOT told him? What difference does it make to him? She's dead for Ekko, and if he learns later on that she faked her death, all he'll know is that HE wasn't worth her staying. He wasn't even worth telling the truth to!!!

It's fucked! It's not healthy!! Jinx could have her ending removing herself from Zaun without having to fake her death.

But hang on, it gets worse!

Because it's straight up not good writing even on the meta level.

Arcane has millions of viewers. Nobody I know IRL thinks Jinx is alive. Plenty of people in my notes agree she's dead. Do you know what millions of people think? That she is dead!!! Because it's the TEXT OF THE SHOW.

Millions of fans will think Jinx was killed off, because they aren't willing to go frame by frame, extrapolating and make-believing their way into thinking she is alive. Most fans are normal people who aren't terminally online, theorycrafting all day long.

Most normal fans have moved on to watch Dune Prophecy or Sweetpea. And if Jinx comes out alive in another show, the "Somehow Palpatine Jinx returned" memes will abound.

Let's go over the common elements brought forth as arguments.

Jinx uses pink and blue in that bomb, and pink is how she gets away "quick".

No? The bomb she attached to Thieram in season 1 was pink and it was all for glitter and harassment. There is no strong canon association of meaning. If you watch frame by frame, there is a pink "light gleam" over the first blue detonation followed by a very large pink blast and ZERO smoke trails or anything indication someone getting away. Jinx uses the same bomb she used to kill herself very effectively earlier in the show, so we have no indication it wouldn't kill her here too.

We can see the inside of her bomb when she kills herself (with the two liquid vials) and it's the same she uses on Vander/WW and herself.

Besides, even if she used some part of the explosion to get away, WW's claws are around her like this:

She'd be bisected in half.

So some people say that means that Warwick is also alive and let her go! But no. That's make-believe. That's fanon, 100%. The TEXT of the show is that Vander is burnt away (we see the final image of himself burning up) and he has just attacked Vi, trying to kill her. We have no indication he'd want to spare Jinx here.

HOWEVER, he's literally bullet proof, so if there's anything we can conclude is that he's likely to be the one to have made it into a shaft and to safety.

Speaking of shafts: the next argument is that Caitlyn is looking at the tower's schematics to hint that she suspects Jinx lives.

Maybe, but you are reading a character's mind. We see her look at schematics while holding the monkey bomb head, yes, but you don't know what she's thinking, and if the show runners don't make it explicit, then Cait's thoughts about an explosion she hasn't even witnessed aren't worth much. She could think Warwick lived. OR she could think, despite not witnessing the fight, that Jinx lived. But she doesn't KNOW, she doesn't tell us, and so you are INVENTING the thoughts of a character to mean what you want it to mean.

This would be a lot more meaningful if it were Vi investigating this.

There's a blimp going away, it has blue smoke, and then it ends with a Jinx glitch.

No. There is a blimp going away, slowly, without any blue smoke. It's also THE EXACT SAME ONE that opens Season 1 act 1.

Instead of coming towards Piltover, it now is leaving over the sea. This can be fully interpreted as a sign that the hextech era is over. Blimps have to travel the old fashioned way again. It's also going away from Piltover/Zaun, symbolizing future stories taking place there.

Finally, the glitch is 3 frames long and spells "the End". IDK why the fact that it's a little Jinxy means anything to anyone. The end of credits for season 1 was Jinxy as well, and it could simply be about keeping the same visual identity and not a sign of Jinx being alive???

If I wanted to play subtext games, I could say "Wow Jinx writing "the end" would be appropriate if she were dead" and reverse the argument.

Finally, and the thing in most poor taste, IMO.

Jinx kills herself several times in the opening of the episode, and a sad emo song plays over it, with sad fucked up lyrics. Then Ekko comes and pulls her from this…

Only for that EXACT same song to be played while she and Vander/WW fall. They are both crying. Vi is crying and screaming while these lyrics are playing!!

If I could just lay my head down and rest. If there was nothing to fight or protect. Maybe then I could finally be free. Maybe death is like falling asleep. This world is a wasteland where nothing can grow. I used to have strength but I ran out of hope. I know it's my fault that I'm here all alone. This world is a wasteland. Please let me go. Go, go, go. Please let me go.

This is literally singing about suicide. When you say "Maybe death is like falling asleep" over the animation of a character pulling the pin, you are not dealing in subtext or metaphor of any kind.

One of the earlier shots literally has her framed in broken glass among shards that are WARWICK'S MAW. It's like a hint of her death being killed by him, furthering the parallel.

And I think it is in very bad taste to have suicide apologia music playing over characters screaming and bawling (Vi)

while others cry (Jinx and WW)

and a bomb goes off (with no hint of survival),

only for some of y'all to come around acting like Cait glowering at a blueprint and a recuring blimp all means Jinx is alive...

It would be grief porn on the part of the writers. It would mean slamming us in our feelings in a brutal way, in an ugly way, while playing a suicide song, only to turn around and say "Syke! didn't you get that Cait is suspicious about Jinx so it totally means it was all a fakeout?"

I don't want a fake-out at this point!! Why would I?? It's legit worse! Because then it means they couldn't spare 5min of animation time to have her rescued by Ekko and being on the mend with him. Even if she has a scene where she tells him "I need to leave. I can't stay in this city), at least it wouldn't be a cruel joke on the fans and the characters.

This entire ending means that either Jinx was better off dying taking out the mad monster made out of her dad with her (making her the ultimate dad killer, yay), or Jinx was better off removing herself from the equation SO THOROUGHLY that MOST fans believe it, everyone in world believe it, and the show offers no concrete textual clue for it.

It means Jinx didn't deserve/or wasn't able to get better. And so she has to die or do the exact-same-as-dying but kind of more fucked up somehow.

---

ULTIMATELY the message to impressionable viewers who struggle a lot with mental health and identified a lot with Jinx, are being told with soft sad music that yeah maybe dying is like going to sleep and your family should let you go, go, go, and that "leaving everything and everyone behind" is about the same.

It's fucked, and it saddens me that people are so focused on the "she lived" narrative that they miss out the fact that a hint she may be alive doesn't change the messaging.

And it saddens me knowing that if Viktor's arc ended with him being validated in feeling like his human body was "broken" and "inferior" and that his disability made him lesser as a human, people would have pitchforks and torches out.

Jinx's mental illness and struggles in interacting with the world were her disability, and she got fucking killed or wiped off the city incognito for it.

--

P.S: If you're warming up to post hate in comments or tags because you don't like my take and don't know how to politely disagree, please save us both time and block me. I'm open to polite discourse but the next person questioning my humanity over fandom wank will be nuked from orbit with prejudice.

[especially-obsessed]

#icanteven

pt. 2

#icanteven - The Neighbourhood

"I can't even, I can't even believe what you did to me You can't even, you can't even say I'm overreacting I can't even, can't even hear your side Shame on me, you fooled me twice"

Summary: series; Sam cheats on you.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x reader, Dean Winchester x reader

Warnings: descriptions of depression, guilt, anger, infidelity, swearing, fluff

Word count: 1.1k

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

The Week After

Dean: 14 missed calls. 32 text messages.

Cass: 5 missed calls. 2 text messages. 

Sammy: 42 missed calls. 27 text messages. 

Your hands shook, staring at the last text message you had received from Sam. 

[y/n please come home]

A silent sob left your body, and you slammed your phone face down on the hotel table. You had picked somewhere nice, at least 3 stars, knowing that it wouldn’t be somewhere that the boys would look for you. Because that’s what they would do. They would search endlessly. And that’s why you chose a hotel that was also three states away from that motel. Tomorrow, you’d be even farther

Dean had left you a dozen voicemails, all of which you were unable to listen to for more than five seconds. Worry was evident in his voice. One was even a drunk dial, him mumbling over his own words as he spoke, wondering where you were. Leaving him the way you did hurt him, and you could never forgive yourself for that. But you pushed that thought aside.

There was a loud knock on the door, startling you. You hesitantly stood up, reaching for the gun in the waistband of your jeans out of instinct. 

Maybe it’s him? Your heart skipped a beat.

Your stomach dropped at the thought, not knowing what you would do if the boys were outside of your door right now. They were good at tracking people down, but damn, that would be damn near perfect, even for them. The knocking sounded again, loud and heavy, pounding on the door. Your adrenaline started to rush as you inched towards the door. You peered out the peephole to see the hotel manager holding a pile of neatly folded towels. Gun aimed at the back of the door, you undid the locks and slowly pulled the door open. You didn’t ask for more towels. 

“Yes?” You spoke clearly, still wary about why he was at your door. 

“We received a request to bring extra towels to your room?” he said with a smile. 

“I think you have the wrong room,” you said, starting to close the door on him. 

“Wait, please,” he said, pleading with you to keep your door open. Your instincts kicked into overdrive, telling you something was off about this. You kept the door where it was and waited for his response. Suddenly, the man threw the towels in your face, shoving his way into your room. The door flew open harshly, hitting the wall and ricocheting back, slamming itself shut. You stumbled back, almost losing your balance. He advanced on you, eyes flashing black. He pulled his arm back and clenched his fist. Panic bubbled up in your chest but was shoved down by another rush of adrenaline. 

You pulled an angel blade from your coat jacket and ducked, dodging his punch. He grunted in frustration as you moved behind him. 

“C'mon princess, this doesn’t need to be difficult,” he spoke snidely. He turned to face you. Before even fully seeing his face, you lunged forward, pushing the angel blade up through the underside of his jaw. You watched as his twisted soul burned within him. Pulling the blade down, his lifeless body fell to the floor. 

“What the actual fuck?” you breathed out, trying to comprehend what had just happened.

If a punk-ass demon can find me, the boys certainly can. 

It was time. You didn’t want to keep doing this. Who would? You liked having a home. But what happens when that home is no longer yours? When the person you trusted most in the world betrays you? The idea sent chills to your toes, and you pushed it aside. You moved quickly around the room, gathering your things. You drug the manager's body to the bathroom, leaving him in the tub. You weren’t quite sure what else to do with him. You grimaced at the thought of leaving him the way he was, but there was nothing you could do about it. 

The boys are way better at taking care of this kind of thing.

You glanced around the room, all but one thing remaining, and you slipped out the door yet again, not looking back. 

Dean was the first to burst through the hotel room door, followed suit by Sam. They both scanned the room, looking for you. The room was paid for another three days. There was a chance that you were still there. The boys could only hope. Dean walked back to check the bathroom. Sam ran an anxious hand through his hair. He was miserable trying to imagine where you were or what you were doing. 

He turned and looked at an object on the nightstand table. Your phone. 

“Dean,” Sam said sternly, picking it up. Dean walked out of the bathroom, his body movements tense. 

“She’s been gone for a few days,” He said, fist clutched to his mouth to keep him from gagging. At least it wasn’t you laying there lifeless. That thought alone made his stomach do a flip. Sam’s voice was stuck in his throat, unable to form a response. 

“There’s a body in the tub. Demon kill. Someone was following her,” Dean gave you a silent ‘attagirl,’ knowing you handled the situation. Something on the bedside table caught his attention. “What’s that?” he asked. Sam still held onto your phone tightly, hearing small cracks starting to give way in the plastic. He hadn’t even noticed the piece of paper that had been tucked under it when he picked it up. Dean moved quickly to pick up the note. His heart broke all over again, reading your words scribbled on the small paper. 

“What does it say?” Sam asked with a shaky voice. Dean didn’t respond, his face moving into a scowl. He crumpled up the paper with his fist and chucked it across the room. His breathing was heavy. He brushed past Sam and made his way towards the door. “Dean?!” Sam pressed, dreading what he was about to say. Dean halted in the doorway but didn’t turn around to face his brother. 

“She’s gone, Sam. She’s gone for good,” he paused for a moment and wiped at his face. “She’s gone because of you,” he said flatly and walked out the door, letting it slam harshly behind him. 

Sam’s heart ached, knowing that he was right. There was no doubt about it. He unclenched his fist, looking down at the now shattered and cracked shell of a phone in his palm. The glass had pierced his skin, drawing blood. You hadn’t been getting his calls, his voicemails, his text messages. His words were now meaningless to you. Sam dropped the object and brushed his hand against his jacket. He didn’t know what to do. You were gone, and it was all his fault. All he knew was that he deserved the pain he was feeling. 

And he would give anything to get you back.

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A/N: I weirdly enjoy writing this series <3 I added in the fight scene because my original piece was only like 600 words and I hated how short it was! So I wanted to add more detail.

Likes, reblogs, and follows are never expected but greatly appreciated! These let me know I should keep on doing what I’m doing! (:

Series tag list: @deviltion @bollzinurmouth @jjkluvcloudsworld @all444amphitrite @fleumurrr @mostlymarvelgirl @barnes70stark @achillesthebambino @i-love-ptv @pressedwater @therealabadoodle @sarahsobsession @fyegyall @mrsmckinnon @shadydelusionalvoid

[dalliancekay]

And it is All. Aziraphale's. Fault.

NO IT FUCKING ISN'T HIS FAULT

First of all: I'm pretty sure every time we see Az and Crowley in the past, Crowley is wearing whatever is the height of fashion while Aziraphale wears things that are well made but several decades out. Meaning he is wearing them for a good while. Swapping his clothes around when they become maybe too worn, maybe too conspicuous.

Walking the clean, gas-lit avenues with Crowley and Elspeth, Aziraphale is oblivious to the privilege he has in this world.

Really? Was he born yesterday? He has no idea how the world works?

the angel spouts trite pontifications created by the rich to justify poverty. He genuinely believes Elspeth has more opportunities for goodness.  After all, look at Wee Morag. 

It wasn't invented by the rich. It was 'invented' or used rather by the church that got used by the rich to keep the poor in place. There is no way you can blame Aziraphale for this. All he wanted is for Elspeth not to end up in Hell. Which Crowley wanted too, after he saw how upset it made Aziraphale. That's not fucking wrong. And you can't tell me either that rich have more opportunities to do good. Or that they do so. Or that more of them go to Heaven.

The inequality in humanity? Well, Adam and Eve had nothing. We have caused all this bullshit to ourselves. Nothing to do with Aziraphale. Or Crowley.

He respects her goodness tremendously.  It proves to him his “rightness.” 

Did you mean to say, he's glad she's not heading for Hell.

And so he sabotages Elspeth’s attempt to sell the body she dug up in her attempt to support Wee Morag.  Dalrymple gets no body, Elspeth gets no money, and Aziraphale believes he’s saving her soul.

He WAS saving her soul. Remember? Heaven and Hell being real places you go to when you die in GO?

Selling stolen bodies puts good in the world.  He’s all for it now, and goes back to encourage Elspeth.  Good heavens, he’s even willing to help this time!

Maybe next time try to be a bit more condescending to someone who just learned something new. And IMMEDIATELY changed his mind about it. Plus, Crowley had no idea digging up bodies could be spun to be a good thing either. He was learning just as much as Aziraphale. But I haven't seen one single FUCKING META about how Crowley was completely disinterested in Elspeth and her life. Only in having his usual argument with Aziraphale. Until he didn't. (And as I pointed out, he wasn't right about - you have start people off equal, people did start off equal, we are just assholes)

But, as we know, it all goes wrong.  Wee Morag is shot by a grave gun, and dies of her injuries.  Elspeth steals laudanum, and plans suicide. 

In other words, everyone makes their own choices, things go badly for Wee Morag. Maybe re-watch the ep and see how Elspeth doesn't blame Aziraphale (or Crowley) for what happened. So why do you?

Crowley drinks the laudanum, saves her in a compassionate Scottish frenzy, and is stolen away by hell because of his kindness.  

Is he? Or is he taken cos he sent two guards directly down to Hell, alerting them?

And it is All. Aziraphale's. Fault.

(I deleted what I wrote here)

He considers all of the money he casually spends on fine clothing and expensive tailoring.  He wonders how many lives could change if that money was better spent on helping to relieve the poverty that surrounds him. 

There's absolutely NOTHING in canon to support this. We can HC whatever we want sure, I for example think that Az wears things, as I said above, that are stylish but always out of fashion because it takes him time to find the right things and then he wears them for decades and decades. Because that's what is suggested by the canon, by the care he puts into his clothes and how well loved they are. The fact that 'male' fashion got less flamboyant down the centuries was not Aziraphale's decision. I for example HC too that Azi, when building his bookshop, and using his own, earned money as you rightly say, was spending miracles on making sure his workers didn't injure themselves, that he spent miracles looking after the street urchins in the very poor neighbourhood he has chosen to settle in (as opposite to say Mayfair). And that when Gabriel told him off for using too many 'frivolous miracles' in 1792 he got mad and decided to go to Paris like the stupid angel he apparently is and get, say, ravished by his enemy who would surely find him helpless and not able to save himself in a prison.

What would Crowley do, if he were free to be kind? And so Aziraphale changes.

Yes, because Aziraphale is an asshole who cares about nobody, and nothing, right?

the angel who took too long justifying a life-saving miracle for Wee Morag

Because he's NOT ALLOWED TO INTERVENE.

who hesitated to give Elspeth his 90 Guineas

Do you think he should have just worked and worked and give all his money to poor people? Is that the answer to all the world's problems? Making Aziraphale poor?

willingly and freely gave Maggie forgiveness for thousands of pounds of debt

Why wouldn't he. It's his property and I am sure he lends it to Maggie for significantly less than anyone else would have. Definitely less than those 'gentlemen' in the book who come and try to persuade the angel from time to time to sell his bookshop.

I'd love to know what else he's done over the last 180+ years!

He's been the kind, big hearted angel he always was. Looking after his shop, his tenants and anyone else who he could. Saving babies in prams and making sure shady men never came back. Looking out for Crowley, trying to keep him out of trouble, worrying about him, keeping an eye out to see if he's not doing something reckless. Finding out the demon wants to rob a church, handing him the one thing that could take him away forever with the heaviest of hearts. While of course, Crowley was doing the same thing. Not giving in to Aziraphale's princess act in the Bastille because he knew it would not ultimately end well for them. Understanding when Aziraphale said no to a date in 1967, not surprised since he remembered well what happened in 1941 when they were seen together.

*** YES if Aziraphale did absolutely nothing on the graveyard, Wee Morag would have probably lived a bit longer. How much longer though... and they would very likely end up in Hell, because they would have had to do much more crime down the road. Maybe even get hanged for graverobbing. Also see: Aziraphale just wanted to help. Did you never make a mistake??? He didn't mean to hurt anyone. If he did nothing, he'd never have learned yet another way the world is complicated and not black and white. Crowley was going to do nothing at all, just have a laugh at someone robbing a grave. No one cares. He's a demon. He stopped Elspeth from killing herself and everyone applauds, yes, it is super kind of him, and dangerous for him too, but it is the right thing to do. He didn't want her to go to Hell either.

The people who think they would have figured everything out before any events happened at all...well, good luck in your life.

And people who think Az should have done nothing - okay then. Let's just all do nothing at all, hoping we avoid all the bad things. Also: Changing the world is not done via charity but via changing the society, creating better welfare systems, housing, medical care, education. Those are things one lone angel (and his husband) can't do. And it's not their place anyway. I have like 5 pounds in my bank account (I hope) and yet I am not blaming someone well-off for that. It's the systems that are failing us. Much like the systems failed Aziraphale and Crowley. Putting two wonderful beings through so much pain because - that's how it is done.

And as I have said a million times before, Aziraphale is not learning some morality lesson in GO (HE IS A WONDERFUL, GOOD, KIND, GENEROUS, BRAVE BEING ALREADY), he doesn't need to get off his high horse, he doesn't need to finally 'see things clearly'. He knows how fucked the system he lives in is. He's just trying to help. Even Crowley says (in the book) that Heaven is the better option over Hell. However fucked it is.

Aziraphale learns from Crowley that he can question things, yes. But not in some, oh he's so blind and stuck and deep in some dogma bullshit. NO. He was always told things will happen a certain way. That Earth gets 6000 years tops. That God Herself made a Plan. It may be Ineffable, but it is a Plan.

I'm sorry, if you think you are far smarter than this and you would have figured out that God is telling porkies, good for you, I'm glad such intellects exists.

Because Crowley also didn't know the Plan could be changed until the end of S1. Yes he asked Az to try stop Armageddon but I don't think he really believed they could. He just wanted to give it a go. Cos - well what did he have to lose?

And they did change it. They held Adam's hands and they told him to be himself and when Gabe and Beez wanted to go ahead anyway Az confused them by asking about which Plan said what. So yes, he learns to question things. And he learned that from Crowley. And Crowley? Who was abandoned by the one Being who was always supposed to love him? Well. Crowley looks into those blue eyes and trusts.

The Night That Changed an Angel (or, why does Aziraphale still wear that shabby vest?)

Mini-Meta Musing (#4)

I've been brooding for a long time about, of all things, Aziraphale's worn velvet vest and the long cream jacket he's kept in "tip top condition for over 180 years now." I love the sweet familiarity, but this is the same angel who popped across the Channel and almost lost his fluffy-topped head in 1793 for dressing like an aristocrat.

"I have standards!"

He's the height of elegance, extravagance even. A dandy. We've seen the same at the Globe Theater 1601, Edinburgh 1827, and even as a Knight of the Round Table in 527 Essex, where he's wearing a glorious pelt across his shoulders! However, sometime after Edinburgh 1827, Aziraphale's stylish extravagance ends. He adopts the dress of distinguished but modest gentility. No seamstresses strain their eyes for days hand stitching ruffles and trims for him any longer. When we next see him in 1862, his clothing is refined, simple, and serviceable. It becomes his uniform, with only minor replacements. Why? What happened to change him?

Edinburgh 1827 happened. And his encounter with tragedy ran over his sensibilities like a locomotive.

Aziraphale had, we were told, saved his earnings over time and had bought land, invested wisely, and became quite well off. He used real money, not miracles, to build the bookshop, paying the builders well and taking care of bills honestly. He built himself up to a more than comfortable lifestyle, from nearly nothing. And his clothes are real, not miracled from nothingness like Crowley's. (source: original showrunner)

Aziraphale's wealth allows him to afford luxurious tailoring and fancy shoes and ruffles and trims. He'll certainly pay the cobblers and tailors and seamstresses well for their labors. It will be a substantial expense for the era. (The linked post gives a wonderful perspective on 1793 lifestyles and costs.)

https://agoodflyting.tumblr.com/post/753227014283083776/why-aziraphales-white-satin-pumps-are-ridiculous

The angel's Edinburgh multilayered and trimmed top coat, soft leather gloves, matching scarf, jacquard vest, silk cravat, etc., look entirely out of place in the back alleys where the poor huddle. Walking the clean, gas-lit avenues with Crowley and Elspeth, Aziraphale is oblivious to the privilege he has in this world.

As he strolls along in philosophical banter with Crowley about the "blessing" of poverty, the angel spouts trite pontifications created by the rich to justify poverty. He genuinely believes Elspeth has more opportunities for goodness.  After all, look at Wee Morag.  He respects her goodness tremendously.  It proves to him his “rightness.”  And so he sabotages Elspeth’s attempt to sell the body she dug up in her attempt to support Wee Morag.  Dalrymple gets no body, Elspeth gets no money, and Aziraphale believes he’s saving her soul.

It’s a poignant moment, though, when Aziraphale cradles the jar containing a tumor from a seven year old child who died because there wasn’t enough medical knowledge to save him.  Turning point number one.  It becomes Real, not a philosophical debate.  Selling stolen bodies puts good in the world.  He’s all for it now, and goes back to encourage Elspeth.  Good heavens, he’s even willing to help this time!

But, as we know, it all goes wrong.  Wee Morag is shot by a grave gun, and dies of her injuries.  Elspeth steals laudanum, and plans suicide.  Crowley drinks the laudanum, saves her in a compassionate Scottish frenzy, and is stolen away by hell because of his kindness.   And it is All. Aziriphale’s. Fault.

Turning point number two.  Another watershed moment where Aziraphale’s world changes again.

One of Crowley’s last earthly acts, before getting plunged into hell, is to have Aziraphale give Elspeth all of his pocket money.  What is pocket money to the angel is a fortune to her, one that can set her up for a better life.  I have no doubt that in the aftermath of the traumas of that night, missing and worrying about Crowley, Aziraphale thinks about all of this.  He considers all of the money he casually spends on fine clothing and expensive tailoring.  He wonders how many lives could change if that money was better spent on helping to relieve the poverty that surrounds him.  He wants to help, and to try to make amends for the harm he caused.  What would Crowley do, if he were free to be kind? And so Aziraphale changes.

I’d love to know the story of how it all played out.  Did he sell his fine clothing and donate the proceeds?  Did he become involved in charitable foundations?  Did he buy the clothing of a simple gentleman and decide to preserve it, however worn it became, as a reminder to himself of his past blindness and vanity?  We see in Season 1 how important it is to him to preserve that coat. (Sure, it's also a fantastic opportunity to flirt and flutter those angelic eyelashes... But, nonetheless!)

By Season 2, the angel who took too long justifying a life-saving miracle for Wee Morag, and who hesitated to give Elspeth his 90 Guineas, willingly and freely gave Maggie forgiveness for thousands of pounds of debt. I'd love to know what else he's done over the last 180+ years!

Whatever happened, it began that night in a graveyard.

[icarusflewsworld]

Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 10 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I hope you like it! Thank you for reading.

Thanks again to everyone who commented. You brightened my days, you are the best thank you. ❤️❤️

! Don't forget to read the previous chapters ! : Here

Happy reading!

Chapitre 10

“It’s been three fucking days, Rhys,” Azriel exploded, standing up from behind the bushes where they were hiding. He looked down at his two brothers kneeling beside him, his breathing shaky and rapid. He tried to calm down but nothing worked. He never could. Ever since he had met Luxiana, he had been angry all the time, angry because fear was devouring him. He needed to be near her to know she was safe, but the whole world seemed to want to get between her and him.

Rhysand blew out a breath as he closed his eyes, used to his brothers' mood swings during those last weeks, but he had to say that these last few days were even worse. Even for him. He also had so much more trouble concentrating. He knew it was because it had been three weeks since they had returned from the Archerons and that, consequently, Luxiana was with Tamlin during all this time. 

He wasn't sleeping anymore. Cassian wasn't eating anymore and Azriel was screaming and fighting all the time. They were losing their minds. But they were so scared. So scared that something would happen to their soulmate. So many bad things could happen to her that it was driving the Illyrians completely crazy with worry.

They hadn't heard from her and hadn't been able to take any news anyway. Firstly so as not to arouse Tamlin's suspicions but also because they were busy elsewhere. Busy finding a reliable way to capture the Suriel. They had even completely neglected the other matters concerning the King of Hybern, they weren't even looking for the second part of the book when it was more than vital to find it. No, as soon as they got back, they had thrown themselves body and soul into the search for the Suriel. Even Cassian had read countless books to try to find a way to capture the creature.

They had ended up, after two weeks of intensive searching, going to a dark and gloomy forest to the west with the aim of setting a trap for the Suriel. They had read in some books that the creature had a taste for freshly dead chickens.

They had been hiding in the bushes for three days, hoping the Suriel would fall into their traps. And the number of chickens they had to kill, and which now lay in a mountain in front of them, was astronomical. But the Suriel was still not there.

Cassian stood up in turn, sighing. "He's right Rhys, it's not working. We're wasting our time. We have to find another solution. We have no more time to waste away from her. I... I can't anymore." He looked sad and tired. The dark circles under his eyes made him look puny and he had lost a little weight.

They all three looked equally bad anyway.

Rhys stood up too, his eyes downcast. They were right. They were so pitiful. But what else could they do? It was a dead-end solution. He needed to know if this woman was their soulmate but at the same time it seemed so true that it seemed wrong to have to ask. Besides, in the meantime she was at Tamlin's, she might be in danger and that was killing him. "Alright," he breathed with all his might, "let's find another solution."

Cassian nodded and Azriel gritted his teeth. He had been gritting his teeth for weeks anyway. “Let’s go,” he spat nastily but involuntarily.

Rhysand took a step forward, moving closer to his brothers so he could teleport them with him. But suddenly, a furtive shadow danced at the corners of their pupils, making them turn their heads to the side.

They almost jumped, their eyes widening in surprise. There, perched on a huge fallen and half-rotten tree, only a few steps away from them, was a pale, livid creature. The Suriel. It had just appeared and sat on the trunk, as if nothing had happened. The creature crossed its legs as it raised one of its thin hands, playing with its long fingers and making appear with a strange magic a white teacup more ordinary than anything there that was here.

The three Illyrians gaped, even less surprised when the Suriel took a sip of his steaming hot tea. What the hell was going on? They glanced at their trap and frowned when they saw it still intact. The Suriel had come on his own?

“You had questions for me?” the Suriel spoke in a distant voice, as if from another dimension. He took another sip of his drink, savoring the flavor of the Illyrians’ surprise in front of him.

“You…” Rhysand began, searching for words, still not believing his eyes. He glanced at his brothers who looked as confused as he did. He took a step forward, towards the pale creature. “You surrendered on your own?”

The creature nodded and raised his teacup into the air. "You had questions," he repeated as his only reply.

Cassian frowned. He was going to ask the Suriel why he was here. Why he had come of his own free will, but the omniscient creature already knew his question. It answered him without Azriel even having to speak. "Because you have questions to ask me, the answers to which are extremely important."

Azriel narrowed his eyes. He was disturbed. His shadows didn't even seem to detect the creature and the fact that it surrendered itself was more than suspicious. It was hiding something and he didn't have time for secrets. Not when his soulmate was in danger. Not when Luxiana was possibly his soulmate and that he had already wasted too much time away from her. "Why didn't you surrender before then? Three days ago when we arrived, for example, or even before if you know everything. We've been trying to meet you for weeks."

“Because it wasn’t the right time, now it is. Now, you are ready to hear the answers to your questions.” The creature stared at them with a blank, creepy gaze that made Cassian shiver. The Suriel didn’t seem to feel any emotion, but when he looked at the three Faes in front of him, feelings stirred in his chest. Their relationship with that girl would determine the future of the world. “Ask your questions.”

It was at that moment that the three Illyrians realized. The Suriel was in front of them. It didn't matter why or how he had gotten there. He was there. That meant they were going to have the answers to their questions. The questions they had been asking themselves for weeks.

A ball of anxiety crushed their stomachs in one violent blow, burning their eyes, making their breaths cut and their muscles tremble. It might all be over very quickly. She might not be their soulmate and then it would all be done. But damn, they were so afraid of that. Of losing this woman. And if she was their soulmate… Yes, it would fill them with joy, of course, but also with anxiety.

A silence fell. A silence that none of the three Illyrians wanted to break. They were too afraid of the answers they might get. Normally, they could have been brave but today, this fear was overwhelming. After all, they didn't only have their fear and anxiety to deal with but those of their two brothers as well.

Cassian looked down. He was tired. He and his brothers were warriors. They had lived through wars and battles. Seen and suffer through horrors but they had never been so afraid and they had never felt so cowardly as they did now. It wasn't him. It wasn't them. This had to end. He needed to know.

Azriel froze, with all his muscles tense. He was terrified, he felt almost in danger of death. Then suddenly, he thought of Luxiana, he saw her smiling face in his mind and smelled her vanilla scent even though she wasn't there. He relaxed. He had no doubts anyway. He knew who she was to him. She was his soulmate and that was all that mattered. He just needed her. And then, he could accept sharing her with his brothers if it meant he could have her for himself a little.

Rhysand had to ask the question. He had to, he knew it. It had to come from him. He was Cassian and Azriel's lord. He had to help them through their trials. He had to be braver and more courageous than they were. But the truth was, if he were truly brave and courageous, he wouldn't be here. He would have left Luxiana far away from them, far away from him. Far away from the danger they are for her. But he was selfish. Terrified and selfish. He wanted her. "Is Luxiana our soulmate?" He spoke, softly, trembling, almost inaudibly, but the Suriel didn't really need to hear the question.

The Suriel was just waiting for him to ask it, because that would mean they were ready to hear the answer. And now, they were. "Yes," he answered simply.

A weight lifted from the shoulders of the three Illyrians before crashing down on them again, making them capsize and stumble, as if the earth beneath their feet had trembled. Rhysand fell to his knees, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Cassian let himself fall buttocks to the ground in the same state as Rhysand. Azriel tensed his muscles so much that he gained a few centimeters.

Rhysand couldn't breathe anymore but at the same time he took in deep breaths of fresh air that filled his lungs. So many conflicting feelings were overwhelming him. His eyes began to sparkle. She was his soulmate. Luxiana was truly his soulmate. He began to smile, his heart beating painfully in his chest. Then his joy faded. She was his soulmate and she was with Tamlin, his worst enemy. She was his soulmate and she was human. But he had met his soulmate!

Cassian's legs couldn't hold the weight of the enormity that had fallen on him. This sexy, intelligent and characterful woman was really his soulmate? He was so lucky. But at the same time he felt cursed by the cauldron. His wings fell limply on his back, he no longer had the strength to make them stand up straight. A barbed wire surrounded his throat. His soulmate was a human. She was fragile. She only had a few precious days before leaving him... He couldn't bear it. His eyes began to burn. He had to take advantage of the time he still had with her.

Azriel felt empty. Completely and abysmally empty. He had experienced so much in the last few weeks and it had all stopped suddenly. He didn't realize it. He didn't understand. It wasn't possible. There were three of them. He couldn't accept sharing his soulmate with his brothers. "It's impossible. She can't be our true mate. Not for all three of us. We can't have multiple soulmates."

He thought out loud but the Suriel had only been waiting for this opportunity. And the intrigued eyes of Cassian and Rhysand who had looked up at him were just waiting for an answer. "It is very rare, so rare that the history of the world has only seen this phenomenon occur three times. Three small times in billions of years of existence."

Azriel shook his head, still not believing it. "But how? Why?"

The Suriel took a slow sip of tea, waiting to fully capture the attention of the three Illyrians. "Sometimes, when the history of the world is at one of its turning points, fate takes the side of a part. Unfortunately, it cannot drastically influence the course of history but it can rig it. Help its favored side win by giving it advantages and facilities."

Cassian stood up slowly, reeling, just as confused as his two brothers. "I don't understand," he said, feeling like none of this had to do with them or Luxiana.

The Suriel already knew what the Illyrien with the red siphons was going to say, he smiled. "Some people are born to influence the history of the world, such as Luxiana. And fate took your side by binding you to her."

Rhysand sank further towards the ground, somehow stopping himself from falling completely onto the damp earth. Each of the Suriel's words made his realization and what was happening grow ever larger.

“Why the three of us?” Azriel cried, his eyes burning, his fists clenched. There had to be a reason. There had to be a reason why fate had decided that he would not be enough for his soulmate on his own.

"Because destiny is not the only entity to decide. Because other factors that come into decision have decided to give a balance to everything. And that's what they did with Luxiana. A being so capable of great things cannot subsidize for eternity. That's why she is so fragile. So strong but so fragile. It is the balance of nature that destiny wanted to thwart a little by binding you to her. To protect her. To save her so that she can influence the world as she is supposed to do."

Azriel realized suddenly. Like a hammer blow that fell on him, breaking him into lots of little pieces. His legs gave away and he joined the ground with Rhysand, the air no longer even penetrating his throat that was too tight.

The three Illyrians, trembling until then, understood. They finally understood. They had been bound to Luxiana by destiny to love her, cherish her and protect her. To allow her to change the course of history.

It necessarily implied that she would be in danger and that terrified them but it also implied that everything made sense. That she was so important to the world that destiny had decided to bind her to the three strongest warriors in this country. Their soul mate. It was now a certainty. She was their soul mate. She was their soul mate!

Cassian laughed. He laughed with all his might, bending in two to hold his stomach with both hands. The weight of worry and fear he had felt all those days had disappeared. He laughed with relief, then joy, then excitement. He was going to have to fight to protect his soulmate and damn it, he would do it with pleasure. He knew how to fight and he was even very good at it. His soulmate would be fine because he would protect her with all his might. She was his soulmate and he was going to be able to go get her, he was going to be able to spend time with her. His heart swelled in his chest and his dark circles almost disappeared by themselves. He had found his soulmate and she was incredible. She was perfect. And she was his soulmate.

Rhysand began to smile too, lightening up just as much as Cassian. Everything was explained. Everything. And at the same time, everything that the Suriel had just told them was so unimportant. So unimportant when he was now certain that he had met his soul mate. He was able to take a deep breath and although his heart was still a little tight with apprehension and fear, it didn't matter. It didn't matter because he would face the difficulties with his soul mate by his side. A tear ran down his cheek. He almost felt like he was floating in the air thinking about Luxiana and her scent. Already imagining the life they were going to have together. At four. That was why destiny had made him so close to his brothers. He no longer had any doubts about anything now. He was going to do everything to protect his soul mate. Everything. And he intended to enjoy his days with her.

Azriel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. In fact, he took several. He was terrified. He had to resign himself for the well-being of his soulmate, to share her with his brothers. He had to do it for her to be happy and to protect her. In truth, the more he thought about it, the more it chased away the enormous weight from his body. The more he thought about Luxiana loving her brothers, the calmer he became. As long as she was happy, that was what mattered. That was what he wanted more than anything. For her to be happy and safe. Especially since he was going to need his brothers' help to protect his clumsy soulmate. His Luxiana. The Suriel had said that nature had balanced things out by making Luxiana fragile, and he was so afraid of not being good at the task of protecting her. He was so afraid of failing. But at the same time, he began to vibrate. To vibrate with excitement. He had then deserved to meet his soulmate and even if destiny punished him by giving him a fragile woman, he would do penance and protect her with all his soul. She was human but he was not going to let her be hurt.

The Suriel suddenly laughed, startling the three Illyrians. "Is she?" he asked, taking a sip of his tea.

The three brothers slowly calmed down, and looked at each other in confusion. What was he talking about? No one had spoken and none of them had said anything.

"You should go," the Suriel said, interrupting their train of thought. "Go to her, because she's not going to affect the history if you're not by her side, and you won't be by her side if she falls in love with someone else."

The three of them froze, jumping up, suddenly looking cold and serious. They had just learned that Luxiana was indeed their soulmate. They had just learned that they could finally possess her and that nothing was holding them back anymore but now, the Suriel was telling them that she could fall in love with someone else.

"A redhead for example, one of the sons high lords. She seems to like him much more than she should."

“Lucien?” Azriel cried out, realizing who the Suriel was talking about. His heart began to pound wildly in his chest and his fists clenched. He should have killed that bastard when he had the chance. How dare he even think about stealing his soulmate?

"I'm going to crush that bastard's head!" Cassian spat, clenching his fists in front of him, imagining the redhead's face in them. He swore that if it was too late and his soulmate had started loving someone else, he would kill him to take his place. All his evil instincts were awakening under this jealousy. But now that he knew that Luxaina was his soulmate, he had no reason to hold them back because after all, she was his.

Rhysand felt a mixture of emotions. Fear, stress, but also joy and excitement. He had gotten a kind of green light from the Suriel to love this woman and that was all he had been waiting for. He felt like he had lived only for her. Only to meet her and although that was maybe a little bit of the case, it made him happy. She seemed so worth it. He was suddenly so eager to get to know her. She was his soulmate for goodness sake, the woman of his life. He had no reason to keep her away from him anymore, even less now that the Suriel had told him he had to protect her. "Let's go get her," he wanted to look up at the Suriel to thank him but in a cloud of strange magic, he disappeared.

They had no more time to waste. All three of them took a deep breath, calming themselves down, regaining a cool head, mentally preparing themselves, thinking of a plan. Then they teleported to Tamlin's. They were going to get their soulmate back.

[kismetlotts]

Omg omg hii I have this super request of Price slipping into his beautiful neighbour’s house, (just the way the man was so good at staying in the shadows when he entered Shepherd’s pffice) slipping something funny into the water she’s supposed to drink after a workout... She passes out in a matter of minutes after sitting down and by the time she wakes up, she’s so sore and sticky yet can’t even seem to remember why... or falling asleep at all!

Fucking love this idea! Got a little carried away though and made Price a bit of a stalker- but I hope you don’t mind!

cw: noncon, rape, use of drugs (spiking), Price is a little bit of a stalker, mentions of hand jobs, fingering, self tasting, oral sex on fem, being ejaculated on, watching through window, mentions of stealing panties, Price has a little obsession with the reader, mentions of spit, a lot of sweat, use of degrading name e.g 'bitch', Price can't see what he is doing is wrong, mentions of exercise, rough sex, a lot of manhandling, neighbour next door trope

"Need any help with those?" Was what started it all off. Price was in the midst of bringing in groceries after being away for so long due to work in the military. The boot of his car raised as bags of necessities- food, beer, what not- were pretty much trickling out and onto the pavement.

He lived in a local quiet area of town, houses decently sized and kept tidy. Lawns frequently mowed, flowers always grown and planted- such a shame how little sunshine England got because it would look like something out of a movie. John was also acquainted well with a lot of the elderly folk around there, most of them having lived their way before he even moved in.

It was perfect for him, given he was usually a bit of a grumpy bastard, living alone in a neighbourhood like that was a breath of fresh air. His neighbours understood him and kept to themselves but not in the distance unwelcoming way, the respecting kid of way. It made him feel secure- snug like a childhood blanket; warm, safe and familiar.

So it’s not difficult to envision the look on his face when he turned around, catching you exiting the house next door. Body in them tight gym shorts and shirt to match as you practically ran over to him. Fucking hell, what had he missed? He had to blink twice; once to register was going on and a second time to look away because your body was enchanting. Forcefully having to drag his eyes away from the plump curves of your ass- the shape of your thighs- your breasts.

Passing you one of the bags from the car, carrying three himself because- of course he had to show off his own strength and muscle to you. A jolt of arousal electrocuting his body from your skin brushing his hand; cock swelling up erratically and his eyebrows furrowed. Johns head immediately leaping to imagine scenarios with them soft fingers of yours.

Finger tips only just touching as your hand spread around the base of his girthy cock, stroking him slowly, looking into his eyes as you bite your lip nervously, wondering if you were doing a good enough job- if you were pleasing him right. He cleared his throat, swallowing thickly as the pulse in his cock died down. He couldn't let himself get distracted so easily, come on John, what has gotten into you?

As you helped him unload, you explained how you'd moved in next door a couple months ago, not realising anyone actually lived in his house. Rambling on about how nice all the neighbours seem and how easy it was to settle down. How safe this side of town was but honestly, John didn't care one bit.

He wasn't listening to the words despite him deceiving you with his humming and nodding. He was listening to the sound of your voice instead. The sickeningly sweet tone chirping into his ear so delicately it made his hands tremble. Fingers desperate to reach out and touch you like a child with fire.

He knows it will burn, he knows he cant but its just so pretty- he was losing fucking control, who the hell were you?

He'd imagine all the noises you'd make with him above you, finger fucking you until your words were all broken and tearful. Ripping out of your cunt harshly before forcing the fingers into your mouth. Shuddering at the feel of your tongue tracing laps around them, tasting yourself, doing exactly what he guides you to do.

"Do you taste good?" He'd ask you slowly, breath hitting your face from how close the distance between you is. Voice thick with husk and lust because he couldn't let you realise the power you have over him. How weak you get him at the knees- you could have him a begging mess if you asked.

A scarred yet smooth large hand grabbing you by the cheeks, squishing your adorable face so hard your lips shine with spit. Holding you like that and watching your skin pale when he lets go. Not bothering to actually hear your reply before going down and tasting you for himself.

From such short little interaction, a sick fascination had blossomed inside him. Wrapped in his head, tied in his chest and sunken deep in his stomach- it was more an obsession than a little crush. He'd watch you through his window as you pottered around in your kitchen oblivious to his gaze- it wasn't stalking to watch you all the time, he was just watching your back.

If being in the military taught him one thing it was to be cautious of your surroundings, because you never know what might happen - who could be lurking over you. So all he was doing was looking after you, really.

He knew your routine off by heart, when you would shower, when you would sleep, eat- work: He knew it better than you did yourself. He also knew things about you that you didn't even know. Like how many pairs of underwear you go through in a week.

His large muscular arm counting them as he shuffled through your wash basket being sure to snatch one for himself later, as you hummed innocently in the shower: unaware to his presence. And why your phone kept unplugging during the night when you slept, watching your angry face through the glass as you wake up and curse yourself out because you swore you plugged it in and now you have to wait an extra 20 minutes for your phone to charge up before going for your morning jog.

An extra 20 minutes of pacing in front of your window in your tight gym clothes, getting a few more stretches in because why not- you have the time.

Oh and you definitely didn't know about the faulty lock on your back door, and how when you jiggle it a bit the fucker just opens up with ease. How little effort it was to slip inside and glide around your home, the smell of you saturated into the sofa, the bed, the walls, precum dribbling into the fabric of his boxers. Your house really was yours, everything down to the last detail was just you.

He felt like he couldn't breathe yet breathing heavily was all he could bring himself to do. Lingering in the shadows as his fingers trailed along the kitchen counters, fist wrapping around the pink plastic of your water bottle. Silly silly little girl, you shouldn't have left it home because now he can’t stop himself.

Stood behind your front door, black hoodie blending him in as you stepped inside, panting like a dog- a bitch- from your run. Hair drenched in sweat that trickled down your forehead and neck making your skin look aureate- glowing.

He bit back the moan watching how carelessly and greedily you guzzled down your bottle of water. Oblivious to the fact that your friendly neighbour John had tampered with it, oblivious to the fact he was right fucking there, waiting patiently for the side effects to kick in.

Your back hitting the sofa as your panting settled down, eyes drooping a little and without your knowledge or realisation you were out cold. Knocked out- head flopping back and eyes rolled. Price chuckled, walking to the back of the couch, hand hitting your head before shoving your limp body hard, forward and onto the glass coffee table.

"Bless you, love. Didn't even know I was here, did ya?" He asked you loudly, he wanted to scream it at you and if he didn't care so much about the neighbours hearing him shout, he would've. Sadly he had to be cautious.

He had to make sure that you were fully unaware of everything he was going to do to you, before and after and he wasn't going to risk it- someone was bound to check up on you after hearing shouting even if it’s just a quick question while taking the rubbish out.

His fingers entwined in your hair as he slowly crouched down beside you. Yanking you back up, flipping and positioning your body over on the table like a mannequin. The zipper of his hoodie echoing in the silence of the house and fuck, he was desperate for you.

Undressing his top half and throwing the clothes on the settee before spreading your legs wide open. Wasting no time as he ripped a fat hole in your leggings, pushing your panties to the side through the broken fabric.

Johns mouth watered as his eyes locked on your pussy, so hot and steaming with sweat but he couldn't care less- he had been wanting you for the past month despite it feeling an eternity. He really couldn't give a shit if you were clean or sweaty- shaved or not he was fucking having you right here, and right now.

His blue eyes indulged in your peaceful expression, eyelashes pressed against your puffy cheeks while his tongue licked a long aching strip up from your entrance. Throat closed dry with thirst and his body was shaking with adrenaline, holding back and restraining himself from making a mess of your pussy. Letting himself sink into you and your flavour instead; not like it was going to last long or anything.

Less than one minute in and he was eating you, spitting on you, slapping your tiny sensitive clit. Sucking on you, biting you and getting your juices all caught inside his beard, he swore blind days went by with how long he was down there. Taking his precious time and allowing himself to relax and enjoy your taste but being cautious with his actions because he didn’t want to hurt you.

He didn't want you to feel as if you'd been raped or something horrible. He didn't want you to wake up and feel so sore and achy that you panic someone came in and fucked with you. John wasn't like that- no! He just needed a favour from you and went by it in a way that doesn't cause such a hassle. Saving himself from potential rejection and awkwardness between you too, it was beneficial. He was just borrowing you.

That was neighbours do, yeah? They help each other.

His cock would ram in you so deep his eyes stung from the pleasure he felt. So wet and tight and just for him. Slowly losing touch with the sensible side of him as he picked the pace up. He shouldn't be going that hard, you were definitely going to feel something is off. Going to feel how deep he was inside you when you wake up all lost and confused.

Your clit was going to throb and sting with how much Johns tongue had flicked, sucked and bit it. The more his brain let him know of his mistakes the more he thought, 'fuck it' and let himself be rough. Dragging and moving you around like his personal little sex doll- exactly what you fucking were.

Holding your legs up in the air then switching to your body pressed against his chest, hands squeezing your hips as he pretends your riding him.

"Oh fuck, honey just look at the sight of you. Why don't you come live with me? Why don't you come stay with me next door and I’ll do all this every night." Teeth sinking into your earlobe as his question was left unanswered- he wasn't expecting a response at all but it was an excuse to fuck you harder.

An excuse to rip off your shirt and play with your breasts because you weren’t replying or him and instead was making him angry. Leaving him with no choice but to tease your nipples until he’s about to cum.

Slamming you back down on the table before fisting his cock towering above you. The swollen and desperate tip so red and dripping with precum until finally he grunted and shut his eyes. Showering you in his hot semen watching how the white spurts out and paints your body like his personal canvas.

Palms eagerly massaging the warm cum into your flesh- your stomach, your chest, up on and over neck while he regains his breath and strength. Scooping you up into his arms to carry you up your stairs and into bed, removing everything and tucking you into the sheets- naked. His heart exploded seeing how solemn and innocent you looked all cuddles up, bending down over you to kiss your forehead before leaving.

Discarding the clothes and grabbing his hoodie, making sure to wipe and clean up any juices or evidence of the two of you before leaving out the back and returning home to rest. Missing your soft little murmur as you stirred awake in your bed, confused on how you'd gotten there and where your clothes had disappeared too.

Wincing from the sores on your legs and body and the sticky feeling everywhere as you sat up in bed. A yawn falling from your lips but- oh well.

Must've been from working out earlier.

[jam3sacaster]

“I’m a heartless man at worst, babe. And a helpless one at best.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Title derived from Candy by Paolo Nutini.

18+ FANFIC. Short work. Reader character aged at 21. / Rupert’s most solemn declaration of his most pure form — love.

Torrential downpour sullied the ground and envoked the rich, earthy aroma that had become so comforting after a particularly painful night attending the latest of Maud's ostentacious balls at The Priory. You had spent the night avoiding disapproving glares from covetous ladies in much too-tight cocktail dresses — providing a grim reminder of all that they want, and all they once were. An empty husk of a magnificent woman — ink black locks of coiffed hair spilling down your back and cherry lipstick applied perfectly enough to hide the ident of your teeth on your lips.

Once exuberant, your all-encompassing pining for Rupert Campbell-Black had stripped you of the glint in your eye, spending many a night beside him in bed, sexually satisified but yearning for a feeling much stronger than the one of him inside you. His chiselled bone structure, the intoxicating fragrance of his aftershave — but more so, his hunger to fulfil your any need and the way his tender touch provided tranquility to the rhythmic thumping in your head.

Now standing briefly under the porch, you sparked a cigarette, the amber glow of the small blaze providing the only light in the garden. You're not an avid smoker but after encountering Sarah Stratton, among a string of others, desparately offer themselves to Rupert, you most definitely deserved one. The back door pushed open, followed by Rupert trailing outside, still chuckling from a passing joke. His jaw instantaneously softened at the sight of you. Thick tears drew cold lines down your blotchy, rouge cheeks and you sniffed noiselessly, taking a small drag of your cigarette with an unsteady hand.

"Oh God, angel. What's wrong?" Rupert questioned, snatching the cigarette from your fingers and taking his own elongated, ravenous drag from it. "Nothing." You lied in response, stepping backwards from the porch and onto the appallingly paved pathway. The wintery raindrops saturated your ivory linen dress and trasformed your mascara into inky tears. "What are you doing? You are getting soaked, don't be ridiculous." Rupert spat, reaching out to grab your arm that you promptly moved out of his grasp.

"How long will you do this to me for?" You ask, tilting your head upwards and allowing him to perceive the utter despair scrawled over your face — now silky with thick, melting makeup. Rupert looked down at his shoes, now finding his tan leather brogues particularly interesting. It's not that he didn't want to answer you, it was that he couldn't. "Darling.." He began, but you raised your hand to silence whatever falsity was about to leave his lips.

"Actually, don't. Wooing those floozies and undressing them with your eyes. Practically fucking them on the spot, then going home and begging me to come over." Your rant was only interrupted by pauses for breath and ebullitions of tears. "Angel..." Rupert muttered, stepping slowly away from the porch and standing afore you on the pathway, rain forthwith drenching his crisp turquoise shirt, fabric clinging desperately to his muscled chest.

"Everybody thinks I'm a total cunt. Vain, uncaring and incapable of doing anything except fucking. Of course, they can see right through me but, for some reason, you can't. You see somebody that you love, for whatever reason. And it fucking terrifies me." He admits, cerulean eyes unwavering in contact from yours, moving your hand to the drenched cloth of his chest. His heart was pulsating in a way that made the breath catch in your throat.

"It terrifies you, so you pretend it doesn't exist?" You question, mouth agape in anticipation and sodden feet inching towards him. "I have never loved another. I'd go as far as to say I have never cared for anybody but myself. But, ever since we met, I’ve felt strange. I love you, angel. I think that's all that I am. All that I can be." His impassioned monologue ends. The empty, pitting feeling in your stomach releases itself.

Snaking one hand around your waist and one around your shoulder, Rupert draws you in for a intimate kiss — both exhaling in blessed relief, the perfect conclusion to many weeks of doubt. It was exactly what you needed to hear. "Rupert..." You breathlessly moan, but another kiss steals the utterance from your lips. "My sweet angel, I love you." Rupert admits again, shoulders rolling back.

For such a callous man with a brutally heartless attitude, he became helpless under your touch. Too well intertwined — he was yours.

“I was perched outside in the pouring rain, trying to make myself a sail. Then I’ll float to you, my darling, with the evening on my tail.” - Candy.

[ickytreats]

One order of perv little sister? 🎂 I tried to make this both for cunnie and girl cock

Perv little sister that loves to watch her big sister change. She's just so pretty! Always sneaking into her room just to cuddle up to her. Grope her with the excuse that she just wishes she could look as pretty as her big sis.

Finds her sister's toys and uses them on herself. Sits outside sister's door at night listening to her play with herself with the same toy. Has secretly filmed her sister multiple times and gets off to them.

Eventually little sister “accidentally” walks in on Big Sis playing with herself. Plays dumb questions about what she is doing. Climbs behind her as Big Sis tells her no and panics. Grabs a vibrator and presses it onto Big Sis causing her to let our a squeal and melt into Lil Sis. Enjoys the pleasure before snapping back at how wrong and icky it is that Lil Sis can't do that to Big Sis.

Little Sis just giggles and “hugs” her from behind. Really is just holding her down as she presses the vibrator onto her again. Watches as Big Sister squirms and tries to hold back her moans. Raises the setting and grabs another toy fucking Big Sister with it.

Big Sister tries to tell her no, tries to squirm away but fails. Cumming to her Little sister playing with her. Making the biggest icky mess she has ever made as Little sister giggles putting the toys down. Running her hand on big sis parts licking up her cum.

[jeongsoo-jin]

Pairing: Idol Song Mingi x afab reader (friends to lovers)

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, creampie, reader is called baby and love, oral (female receiving), hickeys, a bit of whiney Mingi if you squint, a bit of overstimulation

Requested: by @18autumngirl for their friend's birthday, their birthday's the 30th if I remember correctly, so this is coming out a little early, so happy early birthday to them!

Your best friend Mingi has been on tour with his band, but never missed a day of calling you to listen to you rant about your day, but as you look at the clock in your living room, you realize its getting late, and he is yet to call. You sigh, and get up to start on dinner, putting music on, of course it's his, it always is. As you're listening to the music and stirring the contents of the pan, you start realizing just how much you miss him, so you decide to grab your phone and text him, asking if everything's alright, telling him that you're worried since he hadn't called or texted all day. You sit your phone back down on the counter, sighing again, but continuing to cook your meal. The music is to loud for you to hear a key being put in the door of your apartment, but you feel the cool breeze from the hallway make it's way inside, and you turn around, slightly alarmed. When you realize that it's your best friend standing in the doorway, you can't help but run to him, excitedly.

“Why didn't you tell me you were coming?” you say, tightening your arms around his neck, pulling him into a hug.

“I wanted to surprise you for your birthday”

“well it's one hell of a surprise, I fucking missed you”

“i missed you too” he says, placing his hands around your waist to lift you and spin slightly, before setting you back down. He breaks from the hug, and gives you a soft smile

“What’s for dinner? It smells amazing” you laugh at him, before making you both plates and sitting down on the couch. You end up watching a movie you both have seen at least a hundred times, and as it progresses, you end up cuddling next to each other, which isn't out of the ordinary for the two of you. What is out of the ordinary, however, is Mingi’s hold on your waist as you lay your head on his chest. Almost like he couldn't stand to let you go in the moment. You make no move to loosen his hold on you, and just continue staring at the television, although you’re not so focused on what's going on in the movie anymore.

The movie ends, but this time it felt like the same film you watch all the time had doubled in length, and still neither of you have made any move to get up, and are both sitting, looking at the screen absentmindedly as the credits play. Only after the screen fades to black, do you finally decide to get up, to take the dishes from the long forgotten meal to the sink. Mingi trails not far behind you, neither of you saying a word, and both of you feel the tension setting in the air as you begin to wash the dishes. After you're done, you turn to look for a towel to dry your hands off with, but Mingi stops you, standing very close in front of you, with you looking up at him with confusion on your face.

“God, I fucking missed you” he says as he cups your cheeks in his hands, kissing you. Your eyes widen in shock, before closing as you kissed him back. He backs you into the counter slowly, and you let out a slight yelp from your back touching the wet counter from where you were washing the dishes. He pulls away, and looking at you with an expression of worry, almost a nonverbal way to ask if he had done something wrong. You walk back towards him, and attach your lips back to his, before walking away towards your bedroom. He takes the hint, and follows close behind, shutting your bedroom door behind you both, and pulling you back towards him, kissing you again, before walking you backwards to your bed. Your calves hit the bed, and you fall back, with him landing on top of you, never breaking the kiss. Both of your hands start to silently wander on the other person's body's, finally seeing each other in a different light.

He goes to take your shirt off, but not before looking at you with the same expression from earlier, but this time with a bit of excitement on his face, silently asking if you want him to continue. You smile up at him, nodding slightly before he pulled your shirt above your head. He begins palming your naked breasts as he kisses your neck. He slowly trails his mouth lower, stopping just above your panty line, before taking his own shirt off. He plants a final kiss on the center of your underwear before sliding them off, and gliding his fingers through your folds. You sit up on your elbows to watch him as he begins licking at your cunt. He puts two fingers into you, slowly sliding them in and out to stretch you, but as he looked up at you in time to see your eyes rolling back, he sped up his pace. You reach out to grab his head, pulling him back down to your clit, and when he starts eating you out messily, your elbows give out from under you. He reaches with his hand that's not preoccupied, and holds your hand, rubbing soft circles into the heel of your palm slowly, which is very different from the now brutally fast pace he’s set with his other hand, curling his fingers into the spongy part of your walls. You throw your head back, moaning quite loudly, feeling your orgasm build.

“There you go, baby, come for me” he says, face still between your thighs, and the vibration from his voice sends you over the edge of climax, as you cum on his face. He doesn't stop, but does slow down quite a bit to let you ride out your orgasm. When you pull him away, the overstimulation getting to you, he smiles at you lovingly before glancing to the side of the bed.

“what are you doing?” you ask, following his eyes to the digital clock on your nightstand. You watch the time change to midnight with him, before he turns back to you.

“Happy birthday! Want your present now?” He asks, with a smirk on his face, before standing, and ridding himself of his pants and underwear. He climbs back on the bed, adjusting your legs to straddle his hips as he lines himself up with your hole. He kisses you again as he slides himself in fully, as you whine from his length. You feel so full of him as he begins thrusting into you softly. Though it doesn't stay that way for long. He starts fucking you rougher, as he hiked your leg higher on his torso, and begins kissing your neck harder than before. If he didn't leave marks earlier, there will definitely be some now, but you're not thinking much about that, honestly you're not thinking much at all, all too focused on Mingi's movements. He holds your hand again, while his other hand pushes lightly on your stomach to apply pressure on your g-spot from the outside. It doesn't take too long from all of the stimulation for you to cum again.

“Flip over baby” he says, helping to guide you on your hands and knees. He slides back in, fucking into you slow and deep. He grabs your shoulders to pull you back to him, so your back is against his chest. He moves one of his hands to wrap around your midsection tightly, while the other one goes to your clit, rubbing in circles.

“I love you so much” he says, as his thrusts grow more sporadic, nearing his climax. “Come with me baby, please” his voice having a slight whining tone to it.

He rubs your clit faster, and you feel the knot in your stomach thicken, and your moans grow louder. You feel Mingi start to twitch inside you, and you tell him you're close to coming. He bites on your shoulder lightly to muffle his moans as he cums inside you, with you following close behind. You guys stay like that for a second, with you in his arms, basking in the in each other's warmth, before he pulls out, and helps you to lay down, your legs growing stiff from putting your weight on them. He lays beside you, and you rest your head on his chest, before speaking

“i love you too, Mingi” you look up at him and smile, curling into him more.

“happy birthday, love” he says, grabbing your hand that's on his chest, and rubbing your knuckles with his thumb. You end up falling asleep like that, and Mingi lays there, admiring you for a little while, before drifting off to sleep himself.

[nervouswhizkid]

i. am so mad. i'm mad at season 4 and at every one of you that interacted with my last post abt vld season 3. i know u were all sitting there giggling at me as i walked into s4 knowing full well it was going to destroy me. no WARNING??? i don't even want to sit down and write about it, i'm gonna start crying all over again

i hate that keith left the team. i have to actually practice breathing techniques right now because it's making me so mad omg. i know i said last time that voltron without lance was unthinkable, but i didn't mean that keith should leave. THAT IS NOT WHAT I WANTED!!!! that also means that there was less keith (and klance) content this season, which i take personally. they did that to hurt me specifically. and on top of that, the team was being so mean about keith's wavering priorities. i feel like when anything goes wrong, with lance and keith specifically, everyone is so mean to them??? god forbid they make a mistake or have personal struggles, DAMN

i feel like this screencap says it all.

guys how about let's talk to each other instead of being passive aggressive and icing people out (i do want to point out though that lance seems more sad/disappointed here than anything. my little klance heart is breaking 😭) AND THIS SCENE??

the moment i realized keith was about to walk in my stomach dropped. they all look so angry and here comes Mister Puppy Eyes McGee. i actually can't take it that's my son everyone leave him alone!!! 🤺🤺🤺🤺 i know they had a big group hug after but that's not good enough for me, they should have tied keith up or handcuffed him to the ship, or something. WHY ARE WE LETTING HIM GO WITH THE BLADE OHMYGODDDD

look at this, like??

the camera setup is what gets me. you have keith smiling with all of his friends in the background and then it swaps to a dark, yawning hallway with the most heartbreaking frown on his face. that doesn't look like someone sure of their decisions to me. this boy is in pain!! i'm also just confused about shiro being able to pilot the black lion. maybe confused isn't the right word, but i'm not sure how to describe it. i'm not convinced?? black already denied him, so why now? i kinda feel like it would've been better had he not tried to reconnect with her at the end of last season, because there was no suspense for me this time. the moment he decided to go try again i was like "oh it's gonna work this time isn't it" i get that it's likely black could sense keith's internal struggles and feel him pulling away and maybe that's why she gave shiro a second chance, but shiro becoming the black paladin again gave keith the excuse to leave, because why do they need him now? they have a black paladin, and it's not him. but to me, it should have been. he went through all of that growth last season, and for what?? just to abandon them when things get rocky?? ugh, i hate this!!

i can't even talk about episode 2 without crying, so just know that i'm sitting here with tears streaming down my face as i write this. i was really excited to finally get some closure on the whole pidge-missing-family mystery, considering that's been a subplot since the beginning of the show. as much as this episode broke my heart, i really did love it. they executed it so well. the scene where pidge lands on that planet with the graves? and they're running and pleading for it to not be true, all the flashbacks of cherished memories and images of matt? dropping to her knees in front of his grave in disbelief??

now that's fucking cinema. you best believe i was bawling my eyes out the whole time. i have a little sister and our relationship is very similar to pidge and matt's, so this was just excruciating. i'm very glad he wasn't actually dead, but part of me almost wishes he was? that sounds SO dark, i hope you guys get what i mean. they just put the audience through the absolute wringer and then they're like "oh, actually he's still alive LOL gotcha!" and that makes me really happy for pidge, but man, what a plot twist that would have been. they've been searching for their brother all this time, so you expect some kind of payoff for dedicating so much time to that storyline, but what if he was just dead?? and there was nothing she could do?? wow this is painful to talk about why did i start watching this show if there's a fic where someone explores that possibility then pls share, for some reason i want to torture myself again, i just love how they did this episode. it's very trope-y, but sometimes you just have to lean into it and enjoy, and this was one of those times

the classic fighting-each-other-unknowingly and middle-of-the-fight-identity-reveal? i'll eat it up every time!!

real talk though why is matt so attractive 😏

soo, zarkon is back. fantastic. do he and haggar just not care about each other?? they haven't mentioned the fact that they're married at all and haggar basically still acts like his loyal follower. i'd entertain the thought that maybe it's been so long that it just doesn't really matter to them anymore, but haggar sounded like she actually cared when she realized they were husband and wife last season. but now it's like nothing happened?? i don't expect them to act all lovey-dovey, but there wasn't even a single line of acknowledgment. and i still cannot understand what lotor's plans are. what is his agenda? he wasn’t bothered at all by zarkon reclaiming the throne, and even went to the trouble to make them think he cared. he got that comet and made a couple of ships, but i still don't know what he plans to do with them. also– i can't believe he killed narti!! i know, i was literally just talking about how she specifically frustrated me, but i was so not expecting their death. i get why he did it, but now the rest of his group doesn't trust him.

i'd say that the one bright spot in this season was episode four. that episode was just so silly and gave me so much secondhand-embarrassment i actually had to look away at times LMAO is this where we got the whole Loverboy Lance and Lone Wolf Keith thing from?? i thought that was purely fandom-made, i was not expecting to hear that in an actual episode. talk about whiplash. and we got this ICONIC scene:

he did that wayyy too naturally. lance, buddy, got anything to share?

i really would have loved to see keith with the team during that episode. i can just imagine how he would've reacted to having to do all of that stuff. god, that would've been hysterical!! the images of the parasite in coran's brain made me gag though, was that really necessary🧍‍♀️

i don't have a ton to say about the final episodes. i mean, it was two episodes of them fighting on naxzela. it was definitely a bit of an avengers endgame feeling with all people they helped in previous seasons showing up to fight, so that was cool! i'm curious as to what purpose naxzela served to the galra empire though. were they always planning to use it as a bomb? and couldn't they still do that technically? they only broke the witches connection with it, so all they'd have to do is get another ship out there and she could do it again. what do you even do with a planet like that?? just destroy it?? i also just want to point out that lance said they should get out of there immediately, and nobody listened!! and then five seconds later they were like "oh no, we need to get out of here!" justice for lance i stg ohmygod and LOTOR is on their side now?!?!?! i actually can't wait to see how this plays out!! total transparency, i love atla and i could absolutely see this being a zuko redemption arc situation. it's clear his parents don't like him at all (are they actually heartless or something??) so why not join the other side!! I'M HERE FOR IT

i have to be honest, this definitely wasn't my favorite season. we're getting into the later seasons and i've heard plenty about how the writing goes a little left-field (though i'm not sure when that happens. most people seem to agree season 8 is shit, but i've heard complaints about s6-7 as well) so we'll just have to see! i'm sticking it out as best i can🚶‍♀️‍➡️ onto season 5!

[lucky-clover-gazette]

damen & laurent's soldiers need worker's compensation for dealing with their angsty petty gay bullshit. i present the following evidence:

exhibit a:

He had put those soldiers on the door to bar the way to those men seeking Laurent out for some trivial matter, or for any matter, because when Laurent wanted to be alone, no one should suffer the consequences of interrupting him.  The taller soldier addressed him. ‘Commander, no one has entered in your absence.’ Damen’s eyes passed over the doors again.  ‘Good,’ he said. And he pushed the doors open.

‘Arrest me,’ said Damen. ‘I have raised hands to the Prince.’  The soldiers hesitated. It was the just response to his actions but he was—or had been—their Captain. He had to say again, ‘Do it.’  The darker-haired soldier stepped forward and Damen felt the grip take him. Laurent set his jaw.  ‘No,’ said Laurent. And then, ‘It was provoked.’ 

exhibit b:

A part of Damen’s mind recognised how perfectly this gift had been judged, the exquisite virtuosity of it: Laurent was delivering him a backhanded blow with one hand, and with the other, caressing his generals as a man scratches a dog under the chin.  Damen heard himself say, ‘Vere is generous.’  ‘After all,’ Laurent held his gaze, ‘I remember what you like.’

exhibit c:

He gestured and one of his squires came forward. It was still wrapped in cloth. He felt the sudden tension in Laurent, though there was no outward change.  Damen said, ‘You asked for it, once.’  The squire drew back the cloth to reveal a gold cuff. He felt rather than saw the tightness in Laurent. The cuff, unmistakably, was the twin to the one Damen wore, altered last night by a blacksmith for Laurent’s finer wrist.  Damen said, ‘Wear it for me.’ For a moment he thought Laurent wasn’t going to do it. But in public, Laurent had no recourse to refusal.  Laurent extended his hand. And then waited, palm outstretched, his eyes lifting to meet Damen’s.  Laurent said, ‘Put it on me.’  Every pair of eyes in the tent was on him.

exhibit d (lmao):

‘Who did this to you?’  ‘I did,’ Laurent said.  Damen turned.  Laurent stood in the entryway of the tent. He was arranged with elegant grace and his lazy, blue-eyed attention was all on Nikandros.  Laurent said, ‘I meant to kill him, but my uncle wouldn’t let me.’  Nikandros took an impotent step forward but Damen already had a restraining hand on his arm. Nikandros’s hand had gone to the hilt of his sword. His eyes were on Laurent furiously.  Laurent said, ‘He sucked my cock too.’  Nikandros said, ‘Exalted, I beg permission to challenge the Prince of Vere to a duel of honour for the insult that he has done to you.’  ‘Denied,’ said Damen. 

[triglycercule]

eusgahhhhh goddddd the lazy urge to just beg the internet to mansplain killer's lore to me in baby talk so i can finally GET IT and then the other less appealing urge to actually do an analysis on him so i can form my own opinion and observations. fucj

[blackswallowtailbutterfly]

Still haven't messaged my mom back. And I don't think I'm going to.

[jupiter--dream]

(cw vent, sorry it's just been A Couple Of Days)

Not really having many irl friends comes at the price of feeling so terribly lonely, I feel like I have no one to talk to because I'm not close to enough people, or maybe I am and I just haven't talked to them in a while and I don't want this to be our first conversation qwq

I'm honestly just. Tired, tbh qwq

[maxmayfieldirl]

The discourse about being able to ship willel takes me back like. Fucking 5 years to the big debate on whether or not you could ship Sal and Larry because they were stepbrothers by episode 4 lmaoooo

[fushitoru]

i can't stop looking at his d—d—d—d—FACE!

pairings ⸺ (SEPERATE) boy next door!gojo x reader, wrestler!toji x reader, gym trainer!sukuna x reader, pizza delivery boy!choso x reader, husband's boss!nanami x reader, perv on train!geto x reader

summary ⸺ jjk men as overused p0rn/h3ntai plots! inspired by this awesome post by the talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular @/osamucide! pls check it out and the rest of his work :3

warnings ⸺ SMUT (mdni), consent is pre-established in all scenarios (but dub con just in case), everyone is of age (or older), exhibitionism, infidelity in nanami’s, pussy drunk men lol, not edited (as always), cowgirl, missionary, creampies, VERY public sex in toji’s, art by 3-aem, lmk if I’ve missed anything!

a/n lolll i'm ngl this was so fun to write. some of these scenarios are so funnny hELP. this one is also for some of the anons who are so obsessed w choso and sukuna in bridgerton au. wrote them for you 🫡 choso’s is my fav hehe

NEW: part 2 here

general masterlist

SUKUNA RYOMEN ⸺ HOTTIE'S PERSONAL TRAINER HAS A VERY HANDS ON APPROACH!

“Brat!” Sukuna’s voice cuts through the air like a whip. “Watch your back. You’re supposed to be hinging your hips back, not whatever lazy shit you were doing.”

He steps around to your side, the heavy thud of his boots on the gym floor adding to the oppressive weight of his presence. Squatting down, he sets his hips back in one smooth motion, demonstrating with sharp precision. “Like this. Not whatever the fuck that was.”

You glance at him, your legs trembling under you. Sweat clings to your skin, a thin sheen that feels heavy after the grueling thirty minutes with your personal trainer. Sukuna definitely takes the "tiger mom" approach, every tattoo on his body echoing the sharp, uncompromising authority in his eyes. Right now, those eyes bore into you, narrowed with impatience, his hands on his hips. His scowl is practically carved into his face—stone-hard and unmoving.

Breathing hard, you slump forward, hands gripping your knees as you gasp for air. Your heartbeat drums loudly in your ears. “Sukuna, g-give me a sec. I just—fuck—” You can barely string a sentence together between gulps of air. “I just maxed out. My legs are literally shaking.”

Sukuna clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disappointment, but his voice softens—just a little. “Fine. Catch your breath. But as you do that, let’s practice proper form.”

You nod exhaustedly, not being able to think very clearly. Wiping the sweat to prevent it from getting into your eyes, you put your legs hip width apart as Sukuna gets behind you to observe your form. You bend down, trying to sit back onto your hips as best as possible, but as soon as your ass grazes Sukuna’s crotch, you lose the form in your back in surprise. “Sorry—”

“That was wrong.” Sukuna’s voice is in your ear as he puts his hands on your hips, and you are dizzy with the contact. “Here.” Both of you squat down, Sukuna’s hard body moving right behind you, and at the lowest position, Sukuna’s thumb roves over the fat of your ass, and they leave your hips to trace up your back. “Your back should be neutral, otherwise you’re going to hurt yourself.”

“O—okay,” you breathily reply, dizzy with the way he was touching you. If you listened closely, it almost sounded as if you were whimpering. Unfortunately for you, it seemed like Sukuna was more observant than you had hoped because he was looking at you in suspicion, eyes raking up and down your figure to observe your appearance. Disheveled, chest rising rapidly, sweat dripping right in the middle of your breasts—

Sukuna, out of nowhere, grabs your hand and begins walking away. “Come with me. You’re not doing them right.”

Soon, you’re led into one of the gym’s stretching rooms—the private ones, the ones meant for Sukuna to help you after the workout. 

“Sukuna, what are we—” you breathlessly ask, but you’re quickly shushed by Sukuna as he hoists himself on the massage table.

“Come here,” he motions to his lap, and you wordlessly follow his directions, sitting directly on top of his lap, gasping as you realize there’s a bulge making contact with your pussy. “We’re going to try an alternative way of doing squats, one that involves a bit more cardio.” He pulls down his sweatpants, blushing, furious cock springing out as he pulls down your yoga pants.

Soon, you’re moaning as you slowly take in his cock, sliding down as his precum and your copious amount of slick mix and drip onto his pelvis. Your feet are on either side of his legs, making you squat every time you lower yourself down on his length.

“Fuck! You’re so tight.” He slaps your ass as you bounce yourself rapidly on his cock. “Pretended to not know how to squat just for me to put this fat cock in you, isn’t that right?”

You didn’t have the capacity to answer, just moan as his cock hits your spot. Unsatisfied with your pace, Sukuna flips you both over until your back is on the table. 

“Oh fuck yea,” Sukuna pants, hips pistoning into you rapidly, effectively fucking you into the table, and his quads are bulging in sheer strength as they clench and unclench in reflection of his pleasure. “Didn’t know my client had such a sweet pussy.”

KAMO CHOSO ⸺ SHE ORDERS BIG SAUSAGE PIZZA AND GETS HER DEEP DICK CRAVINGS FILLED! (the title is so ridiculous im crying)

“Your total’s $14.93. You’re five bucks short.” The delivery boy—an emo looking guy with hair in space buns—responds to the wad of cash and coins you had just given him. He couldn’t look any less bored than he was as he stared down impassively at you, hot, steaming pizza in one hand.

"Wait, but I ordered a small?" You ask him in confusion. "I couldn't possibly finish a large one by myself!"

He pulls out your receipt from where it was tucked into the pizza box. "Your order said a large." Upon glancing on it, you look that he was indeed correct—right next to your pizza, the size LARGE glared at you through the sheen of the reciept's paper.

"Oh," You said, dumbly, blinking in confusion. "Well, I can pay the rest in card if that's okay."

You get an impassive "I don't have a card reader."

"Oh, okay," you laugh nervously, hand going up to scratch the back of your head and fiddle with the rest of your fingers. "Okay, well," you squinted at his nametag, "Choso, let me just check the remaining cash I have. You can come inside if you'd like." 

He comes inside, dropping off the pizza you ordered on your kitchen counter as he makes his way to sit on your couch. You go to your bedroom, checking your desk drawer for any loose cash you may have stored but to no avail. Heart racing and nervous, you frantically search the upper shelf of your room, on your tiptoes as you look for your money jar, praying that there was a 5 dollar piece of cash lying around. Instead, your fingers crash against some book propped on it, tumbling down onto the floor with a large thud!

You hear footsteps coming up to your bedroom door. Choso, standing near the door. "You good?"

"Yea," you strain, still reaching up high to grasp at the jar. "I'm just trying to find somethi—”

The heat of Choso's body surrounds you as he presses closer to you, reaching up effortlessly to grab at the money jar. His groin presses against your backside, acutely aware of his breaths as he passes you the jar. 

Which is empty.

"Fuck!" you curse. You turn, looking at Choso in anxiousness, as you notice he hasn't backed away at all. "I'm sorry, but is there any alternative way to pay for the pizza? Again, I'm really really sorry for the hassle."

"You have to pay for the food in some sort of way," he says with a stony face. Your mind is racing, thinking of ways you could pay but coming up short.

As a result, you end up with your face stuffed against your pillow, the hot delivery boy plowing and drilling his cock into you. 

"Fuck, so irresponsible. Couldn't even pay for the pizza she ordered without a stranger's cock inside of her." At his dirty talk, you whimper and squeeze your pussy, Choso groaning as a result.

"What was that?" He grabs your hair and pulls your face up as his tongue traces the frame of your ear. "What were you trying to say, you cockslut?"

"'M sorry!" You squealed and babbled, eliciting little ah! ah! ah!'s as he continues bumping his cockhead against the gooey spot inside your pussy.

"Yea, you better be. Wasting my fucking time. I'm going to come inside, got it?" Choso growls as he continues pistoning his hips inside.

GETO SUGURU ⸺ ANIME GIRL GETS HER PUSSY FINGERED ON PUBLIC TRAIN!

He pulls you in for a deep kiss while rutting inside you. "Aren't you my good girl? Taking this cock for me like a good girl?" You squeal, blabbering nonsense as he fucks you into next Tuesday…

You read the smut from your favorite author on Tumblr, devouring each word while remaining stony faced as the train rocked underneath your feet. In the corner facing the doors, you made sure that you were angled in such a way that no one would be able to see the filthy things you were reading on your screen. 

However, the metro was slowing down and you looked up quickly—which was painful, considering you were so invested in the story—to make sure it wasn't your stop. As the rush of foot traffic simultaneously populated and vacated the metro, you paid no attention to the people behind you. After all, other people would be too busy on their phones to see what you were reading, right?

"You're going to take this cum, right? I'm going to breed you, my sweet, sweet girl." He laughs.  You take a moment to take in his pretty features. Long hair, beautiful face, all filled with lust for you...

You scan the words, blush evident on your face as your favorite writer has done it yet again. Adjusting, you squeezed your thighs for relief and toyed with the hem of your skirt, failing to notice the soft breaths trailing down the back of your neck just because of how enthralled and taken you were with the plot.

And then, a hand trailed up your thigh, catching you by alarm. You almost drop your phone in your rush to turn and look at the creep that was touching you, ready to beat the shit out of him. 

But when you do turn, you stop and widen your eyes. The man in front of you seems even prettier than the fictional man you were reading about, and you take him in as he rubs circles on your thigh. His sultry eyes rake down your figure, his lips pulled back in a knowing smirk. "That's some filthy shit you're reading."

Looking at him, your heart starts beating faster solely because of the promise of what his hands would do as they were currently softly stroking your thighs, getting closer and closer to going under your shirt. "I—I—uh sorry—I—"

"It's okay, pretty girl." He gives you a kiss on the side of your neck. "Continue reading it. Can you do that, baby?"

You nod, not trusting your voice. Coincidentally, you're at the part where the man helps the girl masturbate, rubbing and teasing her pussy up and down. The man behind you does the same, teasing your lips while refusing to delve inside your panties, no matter how badly you want him to do.

"That feel good?"

You whimper. "Yes—ah—it feels good. Please touch me on my pussy directly. Please."

The man behind you chuckles, and your knees buckle at how rich his voice is. You would join a cult for this man. "Since you asked so nicely, I will. Call me Suguru."

His fingers pull your panties aside and enters, soon knuckle deep inside your cunt, and as quietly as you can, you moan his name as he continues fingering you in front of all the strangers on the train. His hips press closer to your ass, and you throb even more at the huge bulge he’s sporting. He’s sloppily licking on the outside of your ear, right where you’re sensitive, and you shiver and lose yourself in the pressure even more.

The pleasure was building in you steadily and Suguru groans. “That’s right, take it all.”

You almost jump when the PA sounds. "The next stop is Shinjuku."

“That’s my stop. You have to cum before then, or you won’t be able to cum,” Suguru whispers in your ear, speeding up and hitting your g-spot with precision. There are tears forming in your eyes as you make an effort to stay quiet, especially with Suguru giving seductive kisses to your sensitive neck. 

“Fuck, you got so tight,” he groans. “Gonna cum?” He uses his thumb to rub fast circles on your clit, and you see stars. 

“I will—I will,” you cry, as the throbbing and pulsing sensation grows faster and faster until finally, you cum with a muffled cry, because Suguru has his fingers in your mouth to ensure you don’t scream out on this very, very public train.  “Squeezing my fingers so much, relax,” Suguru laughs, popping his slick-coated fingers in his mouth. “You gonna do that to my dick next?”

NANAMI KENTO ⸺ BEAUTIFUL WIFE HAS TO FUCK HER HUSBAND'S BOSS! (NTR)

“Mr. Nanami,” you scrape a hand through your hair and clear your throat. “You wanted to see me?” 

For a moment, your husband’s handsome boss eyes you down, catching on the top button of your blouse currently unbuttoned. You mainly did it because of nervousness, the heat of the room escalating with Nanami Kento’s presence. After a long bout of intimidating silence, he finally speaks. “I assume you can guess why you are here?”

You bounce your knee as you sit across from the man, and you suddenly start sweating. Of course you can guess. Your bum of a husband—the one currently under your charge—neglects to do his deliverables, choosing to take comfort in the fact that you were his higher-up to trust that he would not be getting terminated for his lack of responsibility. 

But what he doesn’t know is that you’ve been begging Nanami not to fire him, despite the propelling and clear reasons to do so. And you fear the day he finally chooses to stop listening to you. 

“Team leader, I’m going to need much more convincing. Your team has been decreasing in productivity ever since your husband joined, and it’s hindering the company,” he reminds you stoically. “I’ve seen you working overtime far too frequently to cover up for your spouse’s negligence.”

You wish time would speed up just to get this difficult conversation with. “I—I’m going to be honest, Mr. Nanami. I don’t have much warrant to continue having him on the team, but it would put my family in much…emotional conflict if this were to happen.” The said emotional conflict would really only be from your husband. You’re sure he’s going to take this as an excuse to drink himself silly, blaming you for not being able to keep him employed. Your throat dries as you finally meet eyes with your boss, silently pleading him to come up with a solution.

“I see.” Nanami crosses his arms. “I suppose there is a…favor you could do for me.”

At that, you perk up and nod your head frantically. “Of course. Anything.”

Which is why you find yourself bent over Nanami’s desk, his cock drilling inside you. He’s ripped your stockings, pulled up your miniskirt, and put your panties to the side as he moans about how sweet your pussy feels. “I’ve been waiting for this forever. Tell me, is my cock better than his?”

“It is!” you squeal. “You’re so—so big!”

Nanami moans as he ruts inside you, your walls squeezing him tight. “Darling, I c—can tell he doesn’t treat you right. You are so tight around me, pussy’s been waiting for a while for a real man.” 

You moan and curse, blabbering affirmations while his dick impales you. Even though Nanami is the one who’s owed the favor here, his hands wind their way around your body to rub at your clit, simulating you even more, making you sob. “Please don’t stop!”

“I won’t ever, sweetheart,” he pants. “I’m going to finish inside her, okay? Make sure to keep it in when you go home and greet your husband.”

FUSHIGURO TOJI ⸺ BABE GETS IMMEDIATELY DESTROYED IN NAKED WRESTLING (WITH AN AUDIENCE) (find extended ver here!)

Cheers surround you as you step into the arena. You know who your opponent is—-Fushiguro Toji. Even when you looked at his pictures earlier, you knew you were doomed. No matter what angle the photographer took the photos in, his muscles seemed to be bulging, effectively spelling out the sore defeat you were about to face today.

And there he is. Him in the flesh. He’s leaning against the boxing ring’s outer borders, head tilted back lazily while his manager, Shiu, was informing him quickly (and intensely) about the rules of today.

Nothing crazy. Only fuck when all clothes are off of her.

The way his neck is tilted back, compression shirt showing off his upper physique made you weak in the knees already. Additionally, judging based off of the bulge he seemed to be sporting in his grey sweatpants, you knew you were doubly fucked.

Shiu seems to be done talking, so he steps back and takes a seat. Toji leans his head back, rolling his neck to stretch it out, and in the middle of doing so, catches your eye.

You almost drench your panties.

His eyes darken, giving you a sultry look as he cheekily winks. While his cocky demeanor was warranted (he was much stronger and bigger than you), your cheeks heated up in both arousal and irritation.

The sound of a whistle is heard as music starts to play. The stadium’s screens flashes the cocky image of Toji, who saunters in the middle of the ring, flexing his muscles to his screaming fans.

When your signature theme plays, you do the same, to no shortage of fans yourself. You can feel everyone in the stadium, especially your male fans, rove over your figure. You’re wearing a very low cut top that displays the swell of your boobs and even tighter shorts that squeeze your ass and show off the shape of your pussy. As you walk towards Toji, you can feel his heavy gaze on you as you nervously shake his hand.

“Try to last long, okay?” Toji smirks, patting your shoulder. “I’ll try to drag this out as much as I can, but it’s gonna be fuckin hard if that ass is grinding against me.”

You glare at him, but there’s not much intensity there. “Yea, yea,” you huff. “For all I know, you’ll be my personal dildo today.”

And the fucker’s smile widens. “Let the games begin.”

Soon enough, the sound of the whistle draws you towards each other, keeping each other in a lock to tackle the other down in an objective to take off layers of their clothing. Your fans cheer when you have Toji underneath you for a split second, only for female ones to become more riotous as he easily overtakes you, pins your hands down, and wrenches your shorts off of you.

“Toji is currently in the lead!” The announcer’s voice in the stadium echoes of your defeat as you flail around, now bottoms only covered by your panties. Deciding to pull out your signature move, you maneuver so your thighs surround Toji’s waist and hump your hips against his bulge. This momentarily distracts and weakens Toji, and you take full advantage of it by overtaking him and now straddling him. You quickly take off his shirt, salivating at the muscles you see. The whole stadium, in fact, can his abs and pecs glistening with sweat.

Your attention is back to Toji as he chuckles darkly. “You’re going to regret that. I was going to drag this out, princess, but I gotta fuck the brat out of you.” With that, he puts his whole body weight on you and strips you down one by one.

The arena cheers as your lace bra is uncovered, your sweat shining on the screen as your breasts are displayed. Toji then unhooks your bra, and the roars get even louder as your tits pop out. He takes a moment to grope them, your whines ignored as he pinches your nipples. “What a sensitive girl,” he coos. “Too bad she was too weak. Now she’s going through to have to take my cock.

With that, he finally unveils your glistening pussy for all eyes to see and the crowd goes wild, chanting for Toji to finish inside you. Toji flips you over so you’re on your hands and knees and pulls down his pants.

You don’t look back at the monster that’s about to enter you for the sake of your mental health, but your legs are shaking in anticipation of his cock, slick dripping down your thighs.

“Fuck.” And Toji’s slowly entering you, the humiliating plap! plap! plap! of his hips against the flesh of your ass echoing multiple strangers watch your pussy get wrecked. “The fuck this pussy’s so tight for? Thought you were a slut?”

You’re tearing up, but not fucked out enough to prevent you from snarkily replying, “You’re not turning me on, small dick.”

He did not like that very much.

Toji drills his hips into yours faster and slaps your ass multiple times consecutively. “Yea, so why is she clenching so fucking much? Why is she dripping? Just for that, I’m going to come inside of your slutty pussy.”

The crowd chants cum, cum, cum! and Toji just does that. Ropes of his cum fill you, and you drop down in exhaustion to hear Toji declared as winner.

GOJO SATORU ⸺ GIRL GETS FUCKED BY PEEPING TOM NEXT DOOR!

You sigh, extending your back and un clipping your bra, letting your tits bounce free after a long, long week of college. It was finally Friday night, and with no one in the house due to a party the rest of your family was attending, you could finally enjoy your time home on the holidays, starting with a solo session.

You clench your thighs in anticipation as you scrolled your phone, seeking an audio you could masturbate to. And you were close to finding one, until you felt eyes on you.

These eyes were nothing new. The boy next door, Gojo Satoru, has also been your crush since middle school. Even though neither of you have ever made a move, you’ve made bold moves since starting college, stripping with the blinds open to give him a show. You had kind of had a sixth sense as to when the fucker would start watching you, and it flared as you slowly dragged your hands down. Bending over and shaking your ass, you slipped your skimpy shorts down your legs, giving him a clear view of your wet pussy.

But masturbating wasn’t enough for today. None of the college frat bros could make you cum, no matter how much they boasted about their fuckin roster, and you were tired of Satoru just watching. Just seeing him work out shirtless in his lawn, sun shining his sweat to give him a golden halo, was enough to make you sick, hungry for his dick. The way he was so shy and the mannerisms he had (as a loser) let you know he had a big fucking dick.

Needless, to say, you were tired of just fantasizing and speculating about his dick. Turning around, the moonlight allowed you to see the silhouette of his wrist moving up and down his length, even if he had tried to make his best effort to darken his rooms. Putting on your best show of an angry face, you grab your phone aggressively and dial his number.

The line rings, and he picks up. “Hey,” and you can tell he’s a little breathless. “long time no see. What’s up?”

“Cut the fucking act out,” you spit. “I know you’ve been fucking watching me, perv.”

Satoru’s panic is comically obvious over the phone as he rushes his words. “Wait, wait—listen, I—I can explain.”

“On how you’re being a peeping tom?” You glare at his window. “Come over, Gojo. Then I’ll listen to your fucking explanation.”

One thing leads to another, and now you’re spread out on your childhood bed, Gojo whimpering and whining as he plows his dick into your pussy. “You feel so—so good. M’ sorry—sorry for doing that. Your pussy is too good for me to look at.”

You laugh meanly and grab his chin. “You feel sorry yet, you pervert?” And Satoru can only cry out as you yank his head. “Remember, this is the only fucking thing you’re good at. Being my glorified dildo. Got it? Now, you’re going to fill me up only after you make me cum at least two times.”

a/n yea this was depraved….lmk what yall think tho 😭

comment and reblog I’d love to hear your thoughts! (also, requests are open heheh)

NEW: part 2 here!