#which has had the funny side effect of making him look like hes wearing a catsuit

[larrythefloridaman]

funny guy and his pocketcreatures

[sundaaz-e]

Late Nights

______

It’s late in the U.A. dormitory as you sit in the common room, reading. Everyone has retired back into their respective rooms for the night, as they have class early. But you? No. You’re up waiting for your boyfriend—at least that’s what you think he is to you—to get back from his internship. Katsuki, Deku, and Todoroki have been basically run ragged at Endeavor's agency. Katsuki is always complaining to you about how he’s getting less sleep and has to go to bed around 10 instead of 8. "Such an old man thing to say," you think to yourself with a small smile. Your face quickly reverts back to its original state as you hear Katsuki yelling at Todoroki.

“If your ass wasn’t so slow we would’ve gotten there in time to take him down ourselves,” he says with his usual sass.

“C’mon, Kacchan, don’t blame it all on him,” you hear Deku say, trying to be the peacemaker.

You hear Katsuki grumble some profanities directed at Midoriya before he stumbles upon you.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re still awake?” Deku says but continues to walk towards the stairs alongside Todoroki, who doesn’t even spare you a glance.

“Yeah, can’t sleep,” you say dismissively, eyes focused on the man you really want to talk to. Katsuki had stopped right behind the couches, right behind you, his eyes trained on you. As soon as Deku and Todoroki were out of sight and mind, he finally broke the silence.

“You didn’t have to wait up for me,” he says without any clear emotion.

“I know,” you say simply. He brings his hand down to smooth down your hair as a sign of affection and appreciation before making his way to the stairs. You watch him, kind of shocked that that’s all you get. But before he starts up the stairs, without turning he says,

“Ya comin’ or not?” his voice gruff.

“Mm, I don’t know, do you want me to come?” you say with a teasing glint in your eyes.

With that, he turns to face you. “I’m so not in the mood for you right now,” he says, looking very unamused by your teasing smile.

“Well then, you better get going,” you say, pretending to return to your book. You’re not really digesting any of the words; you’re merely just skimming the pages to look busy. You hear him stomp his way in front of you before snatching the book right out of your hands.

“Hey, I was reading that,” you say, reaching for the book as he held it above his head. You stand up to jump for it, but he leans down and grabs you by your legs, effectively throwing you over his shoulder. He stomps his way up the stairs and into his dorm room before throwing you on the bed. You’re practically crying from how hard you’ve been laughing.

“You think this is funny, huh?” he says seriously, but you can hear the humor in his voice.

You nod your head yes, still dying, and he chucks the book at you. It didn’t hurt because it was a softcover book. But you grab one of his pillows and throw it at him. He doesn’t attempt to dodge it or catch it, so he just lets it hit him.

“You’re so annoying,” he says, giving you a mean side-eye.

You stick your tongue out at him. He starts removing his uniform to change into pajamas, which consist of old Christmas PJ bottoms that you gifted him last year and a skull shirt.

“Sleepin’ here tonight?” he asks.

“I don’t know, am I?” you ask.

“Don’t start that again,” he says.

“Sorry, sorry, yes I am,” you nod.

“You want something to wear or are you good?” he asks. You’re dressed pretty comfortably right now, so you shake your head no and climb under his covers. He flicks off his lights before joining you in bed. You like sleeping closer to the wall when you sleep with him because his quirk makes him extra hot, so it’s very easy to overheat. Plus, he likes sleeping next to his alarm so he won’t miss it— weirdo.

As you close your eyes to let your body enter dreamland, you’re shaken awake. Katsuki is pulling you closer to him.

“Mm,” you let out a soft grumble, annoyed that he woke you.

“Don’t sleep so far away,” he says.

As sleep begins to take you, you feel him place soft kisses against your lips. “Goodnight” is the last thing you hear before you fall asleep.

———

Ya’ll send requests idk what to writeee😭

[daycourtofficial]

Your Love is My Drug

Summary: This is very similar to Love Potion No. 9, but flipped. You get drugged while on a mission, and the side effects are… interesting. Azriel takes care of you, causing your feelings to bubble to the surface.

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, dry humping(which is super under appreciated btw). MINORS DNI

Author’s note: this is my first time writing smut, so I hope it turns out okay!

Entering into Keir’s study took your breath away. Rhys, Feyre, Cassian, and you came up to the Hewn City to look for some papers Keir might have hidden in his study, which you and Feyre are about to search as Cassian and Rhys stay with Keir.

The walls were lined with tons of vials of potions, brews, and mysterious liquids. Syringes loose with unknown poisons inside, ancient books open, every surface covered.

“Keir gives me the creeps,” you tell Feyre, shuffling through the desk, skimming all the loose papers for what you need.

“He gives everyone the creeps,” she laughs.

After several minutes of searching, Feyre finds what she needs, holding it up in the air like a trophy. “Let’s go,” she says, reaching out for you, when a guard makes his presence known behind you by jabbing a syringe into your neck and pushing down.

You push him off of you, as Feyre runs for you, grabbing your hand, and winnowing you two away.

You arrive in the townhouse, and Feyre is clearly communicating with Rhys while she tries to check you over for injury.

Her prodding questions slightly annoy you, you telling her you’re fine and you just need some water. You feel a little fuzzy, a little unsteady, but overall very happy.

Feyre returns with some water, and in the moment of her absence, your demeanor has changed drastically.

“Thank you, Feyre darling!” You giggle, toasting the water to her, “so pretty, so sweet, such a good friend.” You mutter, your hand touching her cheek. You gulp down some water and continue, “Rhysand is very lucky to have you, you have spunk kid.” You end your statement by booping her on the nose and leaning against her.

Cassian and Rhysand winnow in to see Feyre holding you up, as you giggle into her hair, “when you shapeshift, what happens to your clothes? Do they stay under your fur? Or do you have to get new clothes?”

Cassian wants to laugh, it was a fair question, but all he and Rhys knew is that someone drugged you before you all quickly escaped. After dropping Cassian off, Rhys had winnowed away again in search of Madja.

“Cassian!” You yell, forgetting about Feyre and moving to embrace Cassian. Despite your state, you had quite the grip on him now as you embrace him.

“Cassian, you’re so funny,” you pull his face down so you can look at his face, “and you have very nice teeth,” you say, opening his lips so you can see his teeth. You pull his lips up so he’s smiling, “such a nice smile.”

“What is happening,” Cassian asks through the smile you’re making him wear.

“I don’t know,” Feyre responds, coming over, “we came in and she slowly got loopier and loopier.”

“Cassian,” you look at him with such intense sadness he’s terrified of what you have to say, coming closer to his face as you drop your voice,“do your wings get cold when you’re flying up high in the sky? Especially during winter?”

Cassian can’t help the laugh that erupts from him, the seriousness of your face, the concern in your tone, and the absurdity of the question make him lose it.

“They get a little chilly,” he admits, looking down at your adorably concerned face, “but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

You look at his wings, “you could wear a scarf around them.”

Before Cassian can explain how scarves would make his street cred go down, Rhys winnows with Madja.

“Rhysie!” You say, loosening your grip around Cassian, turning to confront another victim to your ramblings, until Cassian wraps his arms around your waist, holding you in place.

“Let me go,” you say, trying to get Cassian to release you. “Let Madja look over you first, then you can attack Rhysie poo,” he replies.

Rhys gives his mate and his brother confused glances, speaking internally while Madja looks you over and you babble to Madja the whole time.

They tune back in to hear you telling Madja she’s really good at her job, and however much money Rhysand is paying her he should double it.

“Okay, Madja,” Rhys interjects, “what do you think?”

“I think,” Madja says, ending her examination, “if what you say is true, then she got incredibly lucky. I’m not sure if it’s because the potion was old or because of her body reacting to it, but this potion is nothing more than an intense drunken state. She’s very loopy, and she’ll need close watching. Her impulse control is way down, and anything that seems fun she might just do without thinking.”

As her sentence tapered off, Azriel’s shadows carried him into the room, alarm on his face. Clearly Rhys had asked him to come back at the first sign that something was wrong with you.

Azriel’s entrance caused Cassian’s arms to slacken around you, and you took off racing for him yelling, “Azzie!” Before launching into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Oh my gods you won’t believe what happened we were looking through Keir’s stupid ugly office and it had like tens of millions of potions and Feyre found the paper we needed and then this big mean guy came in and stabbed me right in the neck like a vampire but he wasn’t a vampire he was just ugly and then when he stabbed me something went into my blood but I’m all better now it’s gone.”

Azriel stood, looking between Rhys, Feyre, and Cassian, while you clung to him like a koala. He wasn’t even holding you up, you were just clinging to him, not taking a second to breathe during your story.

“She is not all better now,” Madja told him, looking at her pointedly. “She’ll be fine eventually, but until this potion exits her system she needs to be closely monitored.”

“I feel fine watch if I wasn’t fine could I do this?” You ask, pulling your hands from Azriel’s neck. What you planned to do he had no idea, but you started to fall so he had reach out wrapping his arms around you quickly before you fell.

Whatever you were doing with your hands, he couldn’t see, but he heard Cassian ask, “what is she trying to do?”

Rhys turns to the healer, “do you have any guesses as to what potion this was?”

The old healer grins, catching Rhysand by surprise, dropping her voice conspiratorially.

“I’d be willing to bet anything that it’s a love potion. Bet anything again that you won’t be able to pry her away from your shadowsinger. Sometimes when love potions get old, things become a bit muddier between platonic and romantic love, hence her jumping between the three of you.”

The four of them turn to look at you and Azriel, the two of you engrossed in a conversation Rhys thinks is about snails, but isn’t sure.

She lowers her voice, drawing their attentions again, “Once someone is under a love potion, though, they get very upset when away from the object of their affections.”

“And you think it’s him?” Feyre asks, even though they all know it’s a stupid question.

Madja gives her a look, rolling her eyes so hard she might strain herself, “only a fool wouldn’t recognize her devotion to him, and vice versa.”

Madja starts to leave, speaking louder for you and Azriel to hear, “again, she’ll be fine, you just can’t let her out of your sight until it’s gone. She is, essentially, a drunk toddler.”

-

The five of you convened in Rhys’s office to give a full report of what happened. Even though Azriel wasn’t there, he was still in attendance due to 1) his desire to know what happened and 2) your insistence that he be there. You hadn’t left his arms since jumping into them, just babbling away while he carried you to Rhys’s office, and now you were curled up in his lap, your head tucked into his neck, playing with one of his siphons.

“She’s actually quite adorable like this,” Cassian mumbles. They all turned to look at you, enthralled by the siphon as Azriel makes it glow and dim. “Can we keep her like this?”

“As adorable as she may be, she can’t stay like this forever,” Rhys replies. You lean across Azriel over to Cassian, grabbing one of his siphons too.

Feyre giggles, watching you hold the two up to the light, watching how pretty the look. You grab one of Azriel’s other siphons and start juggling with them. Cassian lunges forward for his siphon, but you are surprisingly very good at juggling and keeping Cassian’s siphon away from him by planting your foot on his chest.

“Where do you keep the other ones when you don’t need them? Do you have a jewelry box for them?” You ask, not taking your eyes off them as you throw them around.

“Essentially, yes. They’re kept in special boxes.” Cassian replies, still nervous you’ll break one.

“Can anyone use your siphon? Like could Cassian use yours or vice versa?” You poke your tongue out in concentration, no idea that you’ve disrupted their discussion.

“No, siphons are picky, they pick their masters,” Azriel replies.

You catch all the siphons, ending your juggling routine with a little bow of your head.

“Anyway,” Rhys drawls, “we need to set up a schedule to watch her - considering her state I don’t want to leave her with servants. Feyre and I have a dinner to attend tonight-“

“I can watch her,” Azriel’s words cut Rhys off, “don’t worry about it.”

“Brother-“

“If I need help, I’ll ask Cassian. My shadows can help me keep an extra eye out.”

They all peered at you, having nestled back into Azriel’s chest and fallen asleep in the moment they took their eyes off of you, clutching the siphons to your chest as your chest slowly rose and fell. Rhysand looked at his brother, the two continuing their discussion telepathically.

Are you sure you can handle this alone? We don’t know how long it will last. It could be flushed out by the morning or could stay in her system for a week.

If you think I can’t handle taking care of one drugged girl then why am I your spymaster?

Because we both know she isn’t just some girl to you.

Azriel sighs mentally, causing Rhys to smirk.

Look, I’d be watching over her anyway. Do you really think I would leave her alone with Cassian in this state? She’d trick him into letting her run out the door within five minutes.

And you think you’re immune to her charms?

Azriel gives him a look, and Rhys decides to back off, changing the topic of discussion.

They had stayed in Rhys’s office for about an hour after you had nodded off, discussing what to do about Keir now that he likely knows what was stolen. A few minutes after you nodded off Rhys got you a blanket, the outfit you wore to the Hewn City not nearly enough to keep you warm. You had slept through most of the meeting, waking once to move your leg and taking the opportunity to swipe another one of Cassian’s siphons while he wasn’t looking. You had settled back onto Azriel’s chest, and he heard you whisper, “so cozy, so warm,” before nuzzling back into him and falling back asleep.

-

You’re not sure how long you were asleep when Azriel gently nudged you awake. He smiled at you sweetly, “come on, you need to eat and bathe before going to sleep.”

You groan, nuzzling further into his neck. “Don’t wanna, too sleepy,” trying to sound mean and intimidating so he’ll leave you be, but it just comes out adorable instead.

You hear Cassian chuckling, causing you to tighten your grip on the siphons you forgot you were holding. You peak out from Azriel’s neck, looking to Cassian, “what are you laughing at, bat boy, can’t even get your precious siphons back from a sleeping lady.”

Everyone but Cassian laughs, as he launches over to you, arms outreached to get them back. You squeal, “Az, save me,” ducking back under the blanket.

Suddenly the room is very quiet, and you peak your head out to find that Azriel has winnowed the two of you into one of his chairs in his room at the House of Wind.

“Thank you,” you say, “now you’re an accomplice in my thievery. Partners in crime, we are.”

He laughs, “we’ll hang together.”

You laugh, suddenly becoming sad, “if we hang together, will you hold my hand until the end?”

“Anytime,” he says. You take him up on this offer, and reach out to hold his hand then. You hold his left hand in both of yours, examining the entirety of his hand, before planting a soft kiss on the palm of his left then his right hand. “So pretty,” you murmur.

Azriel’s stunned into silence, but you fill the void with your voice, “I love your hands. The scars are beautiful. I think about your hands a lot - the things they’ve endured, the things they’ve done. They are still beautiful, they’re a part of you, and you are the most beautiful of all.”

You turn in his seat, grabbing his face in your left hand, tracing his face with your right. “You’re so beautiful, scars and all, demons and all.” Your eyes trace his face, as if committing this poximity to memory. “I could look at you forever and never feel restless.”

He is stunned, unsure if this is the drug making you think he’s someone else or just making things up in your mind, when he says, “you’ve been drugged, you don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I don’t know what I’m saying, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be true.”

Your words sound incredibly sobering. Azriel can’t let this conversation keep going, he needed you aware and 100% into it to have this conversation. Besides, this is a conversation he’s accepted should never happen to preserve your friendship.

“Okay, do you want to eat or bathe first?”

You laugh, your moment of lucidity over, “can I take the siphons in the bath?”

-

Azriel prepared a bath for you with the special soap that makes the water bubble up. He helped unzip your dress, then looked away as you got into the bath. He would have let you bathe alone, however there was a slight concern you might drown or slip when you got out.

He heard you sink into the bath that was practically overflowing with bubbles. “Can I look now?”

“You could have been looking the whole time, silly.”

Since your confession while holding his hands, you had become much flirtier than usual. When he unzipped your dress you made a dirty joke that made his cheeks flush.

“Azzy,” the nickname rolling off your tongue, a nickname he usually doesn’t care for, but coming from your lips sounds divine.

“Sweetheart?” He asks, as he turns around to look at you in the bath.

“You have something on your face,” you tell him, giggling as he comes closer. When he’s close enough you grab his shirt and pull him into the tub, water spilling over the edge of the tub, coating the floor.

He’s spluttering as his head emerges, trying to breathe from the shock of the sudden dunk. He looks at you, annoyance with just a hint of amusement covering his face.

“Well, I had asked if you’d join me, and you said no,” you giggle, scooping up some bubbles into your hands and blowing them in his face.

Azriel concedes, unsure of what you’d do if he left the tub, so he settles in across from you, his legs surrounding the sides of your legs. Your very naked legs, hidden by the bubbles. This bath was excruciating for him, knowing that the only thing covering you were bubbles that would be gone in about fifteen minutes was actual torture.

“Okay, you got me in here, now what is your plan?”

You squint, thinking. You raise your hand, signaling with your finger for him to come closer. He leans closer, and you grab some bubbles, sticking them to his face.

“Bubble beard!” You exclaim while laughing. “You look like a pirate.”

-

You spent the remainder of your bath trying to get him out of his clothes, telling him how weird it was he was bathing fully clothed. Having you naked in his tub was already hard enough for him, removing his clothes as well? He’d lose all restraint on keeping your advances at bay.

The whole bath you kept whining, wanting to be in his lap again, or just having more contact than his legs touching your legs. You started rubbing your hands up his calves, and he has never wanted to rip off his clothing to feel someone’s touch quite like he had in that moment.

Your touch on his legs, the way you were looking at him like he was the most incredible thing you’ve ever seen and like he was a meal, the loss of bubbles giving him a better view of your breasts through the water. It was all too much.

Azriel jolted out of the water, standing in the tub and starting to put his legs over the edge to get out. You laugh at all the water that rushes over the sides of the tub, “what’s wrong Azzie?”

That nickname, your body in the tub, his disruption causing a lot of water to leave the tub, leaving your breasts exposed for him.

He was about to leave, about to get out before he did something he regretted, when he smelled it. He could smell your arousal, so sweet and so hot he practically moans at it.

“Sit, please,” you say, grabbing his hands and pulling him down to sit back in the bath. He complies, his brain making him think of sirens luring men to their deaths in the sea.

As he sits, wings splaying over the rim of the rub, you keep your hands in his, but you stay much closer to him, practically sitting in his lap. Keeping your eyes on his, you tell him, “a bath is no place for clothes.”

He shivers, as you trace your hands up his thighs. “Sweetheart, we can’t. You’re drugged.”

“I might be drugged,” you say, unable to keep yourself away, crawling into his lap, “but I can assure you I dream of you in every way imaginable. Sexual, romantic. I want to give you the moon.”

At this point you’re straddling his waist, starting to grind against his hard cock still in his pants. The bath water sloshing in the tub at your gentle rhythms. Azriel has to grip the edges of the tub to ground himself, remind him that this is real, not a dream.

He tips his head back, about to tell you no again, when you start attacking his neck with your mouth, littering hot, needy kisses up and down the column of his throat.

The coordinated attack of your faster rhythm and your mouth on his neck might actually cause Azriel to burst right into his pants, and then you start speaking again and he’s sure he’ll come undone in this bath.

“Think about you all the time.”

Bite.

“Think about how good your cock would feel inside of me.”

Suck.

“I touch myself almost every night thinking of what you could do to me.”

Moan.

It was all so much for Az. The confinement of his cock, the feel of you on him, he let go of the edges of the tub, opting to place them on the sides of your hips, helping guide you across his clothed length.

Azriel had never seen you so in command, so confident, and it made him want to devour you.

“I’ve always wondered how well the soundproofing on the rooms is because every night I am moaning your name, hoping you’ll come and actually make me moan.”

He digs his fingers into your sides deeper, finally able to remember his voice, “believe me, sweetheart, if I heard you moaning my name I’d burst through the door and have you moaning it all night.”

His left hand reaches up, grazing over your right breast. He’s gazing at you like you’re a recently discovered piece of art that hasn’t been seen in centuries.

“Can I hear it now?” He asks, thrusting up against your wet heat.

You moan his name, and he thrusts harder. You two are going faster, your hands roaming his body, his hands roaming yours. What’s left of the water is sloshing furiously, most of the water landing on the floor.

“I think about your hands exploring every inch of me.”

Both of your moans are echoing through the bathroom, a chorus of pleasures creating an erotic symphony.

“Azriel” you moan, practically vibrating from your climax, your mind going blank except for thoughts of him, but still moving because you need him to finish too.

The way you said his name drove Azriel over the edge, the two of you finishing together, in a practically empty tub.

Chests heaving, the entire floor coated in water, the euphoria fades entirely too quickly for Azriel’s liking with the weight of what he’s just done.

He took advantage of you. You’re drugged, you have no idea what’s going on, you probably have no idea who you just dry humped into completion.

He gets out of the bath, you still curled up to his chest. He pulls his wet pants off and grabs each of you a towel. He slings his towel around his hips, and sets you down so he can sling a towel around you as well.

You accept it, nuzzling back into his chest and he feels his heart lurch knowing that once your potion wears off, you’ll never be able to look at him again.

He braids your wet hair, despite your protests, and he goes with you to pick out some pajamas from your room, under your insistence.

As he gets dressed he has his shadows check the whole house. After getting the all clear, the two of you scamper down the hall, him in gray sweatpants and you in nothing but a towel.

Your room is neat and tidy like his, but you have much more decor around the room. Stacks of books, little framed photos, snow globes even.

He can’t help himself from snooping as you find a nightgown, and he spots a box on your vanity that seems to lure him, almost calling his name.

He opens the lid to find every note the two of you have passed during boring meetings or whenever the two of you do paperwork in the library and pass notes back and forth.

He smiles, the one top from him stating “if Cassian doesn’t stop chewing his bubble gum like that I might kill him”.

You cough, startling him. “I’m ready!” You say.

He spins around, closing the box, hoping you didn’t catch him snooping. If he thought the bath was torture, your nightgown is even worse. Flimsy straps, one of which has already fallen off your shoulder, midnight black, a small bow between your breasts. It barely covers your ass, for Mother’s sake.

He was in for a long night.

-

After much fighting and whining and convincing, you convince Azriel to sleep in the bed with you, promising you’ll keep your hands to yourself, except to cuddle. Azriel didn’t realize just how much you would use that stipulation to be practically on top of him all night.

It surprises him a bit, how easy it is to lay in bed with you, his left wing underneath you, pulling you towards him.

He’s decided you’re going to hate him whenever the drug wears off no matter what, so he’s all in on getting as much of you as he can.

The weight of your head on his chest, your arm draped over his stomach, your slow breathing as you dream. It’s more comforting than he’d expect, and before he can stop it he’s fallen asleep.

-

You woke the next morning, opening your eyes only to make direct eye contact with Azriel, sitting in the chair next to his bed.

“Good morning,” he tells you, a smile crossing his face. He’s anticipating silly, loopy you who is incredibly bold. Instead he watches your eyes widen, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as the memories all come back.

At first the memories were a little embarrassing, but easily written off. The more that come back to you, the more your cheeks heat.

Jumping on him, sitting in his lap, straddling him, forcing him into your bath.

“Oh my gods,” you stammer, shuffling in the bed to sit up. “Azriel, oh my gods I’m so sorry. I can’t believe I did that.”

Azriel’s moved to sit next to you on the bed. “No, I’m sorry. I was lucid, and I took advantage of you in a vulnerable moment. I completely understand if you want nothing to do with me.”

He starts to rise to leave until you dart out a hand around his wrist, “you? Taking advantage of me? I held you down and made you cum! I assaulted you! In a bathtub!” You’re not sure why the only part of that you whispered is ‘bathtub’.

“Look Az, I was pretty lucid, I just had no reservations. No impulse control. All I ever want to do is jump your bones and you were taking care of me and being so nice I couldn’t stop myself.” You fall back on the bed, putting your hands over your face, wanting the shame of assaulting the man you’re in love with to consume you.

He reaches out, removing your hands, “you want to jump my bones all the time?”

He’s smirking. The bastard is smirking at being assaulted.

Him holding your hands means you can’t hide, and you’ve already done something unforgivable so might as well put it all out there.

You sit up straighter to look him in the eye as you say, “Okay, fine, yes, I’ve already ruined our friendship by assaulting you, fuck it I’ll completely annihilate it! I spend an ungodly amount of time thinking about you, I haven’t even considered going on a date since I met you, you have probably ruined other males for me, and I am hopelessly and desperately in love with you!”

You practically shout the last part at the stupid smirk that won’t leave his face.

“I’ve ruined other males for you?”

You roll your eyes, “yes I expect them all to be as loathsome and annoying as you are.”

His smirk is somehow still growing as he eyes you up like a predator stalking his prey, “oh none of them are as loathsome and annoying as I am, and none of them are as hopelessly and desperately in love with you as I am.”

His smirk is replaced by a beaming smile as you process his words. He releases your hands from his grasp, cupping your face with them instead.

“You’ve ruined every female out there for me. I’ve been on one date since I met you, stupid busybody Rhysand set it up, I think in hopes to get me to confront how I feel about you.”

You’re about to ask about it, but he cuts you off, “it lasted 20 minutes. She was one of the teachers at Nyx’s school, nice, but she wasn’t you.”

He laughs, the memory lingering in his eyes, “Rhys was right, unfortunately. We went out and all I could talk about was you. I told her about you, how afraid I was to say anything.”

You move forward, deciding to straddle his lap for this conversation. His hands still on your face, he continues.

“She told me if you were as nice as I said you are, you’d never let my feelings get in the way of our friendship if you didn’t feel the same way. And that if you’re as beautiful and funny and intelligent as I told her you were, someone might beat me to it. And that would hurt worse than the rejection.”

Your hands reach up to cup his face, his beautiful, beautiful face. “And how long ago was this date?”

“It was right before your mission. When I got back I was ready to declare it all to you, but Nesta told me you guys were gone. And then when you came back drugged, I figured I would take care of you and when the drug wore off I’d tell you as soon as you came to.

“But then you ambushed me in a bath tub.”

You can’t help the laugh that bursts from your lips. “Now that I know you wanted it, you really can’t blame me. You looked really hot in the bath.”

Your hips start grinding against his involuntarily, the memory of rubbing against him still so fresh. You’re only in a nightgown and some panties, and you can’t help that he picked gray sweatpants to sleep in.

He grabs your hips, holding you in place, “you couldn’t help yourself? I just looked so hot? You were naked and practically begging me to touch you. It’s a miracle I restrained myself as much as I did.”

You laugh, you really were laying it on thick for him. He releases his hold on you for a second, and your hips immediately start grinding again.

“Oh no, we can’t have that,” he says, and before you can question it a shadow grabs each of your hands, pulling your head back down on the pillows, holding you in place. You start to squirm, about to move your legs, when more shadows appear, holding them down.

You gasp, as Azriel leans in to your ear, whispering, “last night you got to use me for your pleasure, holding me down, now it’s my turn.”

He shifts himself, his upper body between your legs, his face very close to your wet heat. He turns back to face you, and you can feel his breath on you, causing you to moan in need.

“I haven’t even touched you and you’re already so needy.” His fingers begin tracing the inside of your leg, starting at your ankle, moving up to your knee, he slows down while he moves up your thigh, and your breathing practically stops as he approaches your panties.

Your nightgown had shifted up, giving him the perfect view of your lacy, midnight blue panties.

“Do you always wear slutty panties, or only when you know you’ll see me?” He asks, playing with the edges of them, slipping his fingers under the edge to caress your hips.

You flush, embarrassed he figured you out. “I uh wear them on days I know I’ll see you, just in case.”

He chuckles darkly, slithering back up your body, pressing his hard cock against you as he tells you, “If I had known how much effort you put in I would have taken you ages ago.” His hips begin thrusting against you, and you try to hold back moaning but he continues. “Or just how pretty you look squirming underneath me, needing more of my cock. Or how pretty you look in that shade of blue, like you’re already marked as mine.”

He pulls back for a moment, pulling off his sweatpants, but leaving on his boxer-briefs.

“I said I’d return the favor,” he says, sliding back in between your legs, “and if I recall you spent a good amount of time telling me some of the dirty thoughts you’ve had about me.”

His hips continue, still just grinding against your heat, not even inside of you. Gods, you thought, he’ll be the death of me.

“So it’s only fair I tell you all about how I fist my cock wishing I was fisting your hair, keeping your mouth on my cock instead.”

His speed picks up, his hands resting on your throat, your moans drowned out by his mouth colliding with yours.

You open your mouth to let in some air and he takes the opportunity to swipe his tongue in, asserting dominance against your own. Just as fast as he entered your mouth, he left, pulling his mouth from yours. He chuckles at the groan you make at the loss of contact.

“All of Starfall I had to keep leaving because I couldn’t stop thinking about undoing the ribbons holding your dress up. I had to relieve myself at least three separate times.”

You remember the night well enough - you had worn a rather risqué dress by your standards, one where the bodice was made entirely of one strand of ribbon. It was incredibly tedious to get on, but you looked incredible in it, and you were selfishly hoping he would notice you in it.

“Would it mean anything if I told you I picked out that dress, hoping you’d cut the ribbon?” Your words coming out choppy between pants.

Your words clearly meant something to him, because he picked up his pace, grinding against you harder. Some of his curls have fallen into his face, and you move to brush them away, only to remember being bound.

You can feel yourself getting so so close, when he speaks again.

“I’ve spent a lot more time than I’d like to admit imagining what your arousal would smell like,” he begins undoing his leathers, “and now that I know it I can’t help but want to be coated in it.”

At his words, he slips your panties aside and slips inside of you. You moan his name, because at this point he is all you know. His body, his touch, his voice. He is all consuming.

He gently thrusts a few times, stretching you out, before he gains speed, filling you with him.

“Dreamed of how you’d feel around me. I gotta say, the reality is much better than my imagination.”

You’re both on the brink, Azriel thrusting harder, deeper, faster, both of your moans filling his room. You feel him spill into you and that causes you to come completely undone.

Azriel drops onto you, both of your chests heaving against each other. Your breathy pants die down, air coming back to the two of you. Azriel’s head cradled in your neck, his shadows releasing your hands and legs.

“I hate to say it but I am thankful for the bastard who drugged you.”

You laugh as he gets up, gathering his pants to put on.

“Rhys wants an update on you,” he says, smirking, “shall I tell him you’re in perfectly capable hands?”

You laugh, “no tell him I’m in the hands of a deplorable male taking advantage of a sweet, innocent girl.”

He roars with laughter, “sweet and innocent my ass. Tell that to the bathroom floor.” You laugh in response, snuggling back down into his sheets.

You look over, watching Azriel put on the two siphons you had stolen the night before, where they previously were sitting next to Cassian’s stolen siphon. You laugh, trying to figure out how long it’ll be until Cassian comes barreling through the door for it back.

“I imagine,” Azriel begins, following your gaze to the red gem, “he has been standing outside the room all night like some pervert, waiting for the door to open so he can slip in and take it back.”

He leans over the bed, capturing your mouth in a kiss, threading his fingers through your hair. You sit up on your knees, pressing into him as you kiss him back, putting everything into the kiss.

“I shouldn’t be too long, I’ll tell him you’re still under the influence and maybe I can get us a few more days of uninterrupted bliss.”

[luvvyouforever]

exclusively yours - sdv harvey x reader!

-> synopsis: harvey realizes some things about himself and one of those is that he can't stand it when other people look at what's his.

-> warning: NSFW MDNI MDNI MDNI SMUT! jealous harvey mhm. a touch of dom harvey what can i say. slight shane slander nothing too mean. a bit wordy. you've been warned.

-> a/n: i hope you all enjoy! i wrote this whenever i had time free over the course of a week when i should be doing homework.

there's a rare fire in his eyes that night at the stardrop saloon. he's not sure what it is that he's feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he knows for certain that he doesn't like the way shane's eyes rake over your flower dance dress that you had been wearing since this morning when you danced with the doctor, and not shane.

he's reminding himself of the ring on your finger, the farm that you live in together, the bouquets you've gifted him, the necklace that took ages to procure because the weather had to be just right. and yet, none of that is easing the jealousy threatening to bubble up over the surface.

the lust in shane's gaze becomes even more apparent as the crowd dwindles. he's talking to you and harvey can barely make out the words coming out of his mouth, but then there's a touch to your elbow that was well-timed to come after a joke you just made, and now harvey is striding over, wrapping a tight arm around your shoulders to stare at shane.

"what was so funny?" he asks and the interested inflection in his tone is entirely fake. "i know my wife has such a keen sense of humor, doesn't she?" you don't miss the emphasis he puts on 'wife.'

shane's grown awkward now, and he shifts hsi weight from one foot to the next. he's been caught and there's nothing much he can do to salvage this situation. "yeah, uh, she just made a joke about summer. nothing serious. sorry," he stumbles out.

"mhm, yeah. so, we'll see you around?" harvey says which effectively ends the conversation and forces shane back into the booth he was originally sitting down in. with a breath of relaxation, he turns to you with a different kind of fire in his eyes. one that makes you shiver with palpable excitement. "ready to go home?"

you nod and his hand moves from your shoulder down to the small of your back to give you just a slight push away from prying eyes and out the door of the saloon.

neither of you speak on the way home and it feels like even the nature around you is holding its breath in anticipation of what will happen when the door to your farmhouse swings open. the farmhouse becomes visible in the distance and there's a sudden weakness in your legs. subconciously, both you and harvey pick up speed until you find yourself speed-walking to the front door.

he wastes no time in pulling keys from his pocket and unlocking the door and, ever the gentleman, letting you go in first.

once he shuts the door behind him, his hand immediately finds the small of your back again and you feel your body inch closer to the bedroom. anticipation grows and grows until your back is leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom and harvey's stature is looming over yours.

this is new, this is unexplored, this is uncharted territory. harvey had never once been anything other than unadulterated sweetness in the bedroom. he cared about your pleasure, your comfort, and your enjoyment more than anything. but now there was something calling to him to give into this urge building in the pit of his stomach.

harvey's hand crawls from its position by his side, up the curves of your stomach, then stops at the base of your head. a soft gesture tilts your chin upwards so you're looking directly into his brown eyes. you feel small underneath his intense gaze, but it's certainly not a bad feeling.

"you know," he begins with a breath, "i've never considered myself a jealous person." you bite your lip in anticipation, feeling warmth grow from your core and radiate outwards. "but...the way shane was looking at you tonight...i think we just need a small reminder about who you belong with."

there was so much intensity behind his words despite them coming out in a soft drawl. you could have buckled right there on the doorframe but his body was caging you in so that there was no way you'd fall.

with a breath and a swallow, your hand travels from your side to his waist. "then remind me," you tease.

harvey's eyes darken and something about this excited you to no end. his strong hands bring you close to his chest and his lips hurriedly meet yours. they intertwine in a mess, teeth clashing, tongues bumping, but it sets your entire body alight. with ease, harvey inches you away from the doorframe and to the bed where you fall down onto the soft mattress. the white dress on your body falls around your waist, revealing the underwear you had on.

then, harvey growled. like truly, really growled as if something had took over him in these few seconds. he had been suppressing this urge to be with you intensely for fear of hurting you or embarrassing himself. but he's spurred on by your moans and the heat he feels radiating from between your legs.

after making out so roughly that your lips are left feeling numb, harvey's hands travel down your body, stopping at the hem of your underwear. with a strong tug, he pulls you to the edge of the bed and sits on his knees in front of you. he'd regret placing so much pressure on his aging knees in the morning, but that didn't matter now. what mattered now was making you cum to the point that you are unable to think of another man but him.

without much warning, harvey's mouth met your core. you threw your head back to the bed, letting out a moan that made you glad you lived so far from any other person. he was like a man possessed, seeking some salvation in the wetness growing and growing in between your legs.

he pulled away, but not for long as his fingers gripped the hem of your underwear and slid them down your thighs, calfs, and off your feet. for a second, he sat on his knees, marveling at your pleasure and whispered, "you must really like this, huh?"

his voice was laced with lust and darkness. before you could even respond, his mouth met your middle again and every part of your body lurched forward, in awe of the pleasure he was giving you. there was a coil in the pit of your stomach that was growing, wounding around itself, tightening with every stroke of harvey's tongue against you.

"harv! fuck!" you managed to choke out. you could feel his lips tilt upward in a smile, and just when you thought there was no possible way it could get better than this, his finger teased at your hole before plunging in. harvey's anatomical knowledge guided his finger upward, curling up to the spot that sends you reeling.

his name was a prayer on your lips as that coil tightened till the point you think it might snap. you could no longer hold it when harvey added in a second finger, curling both upwards and creating a pressure that pulled the coil till it all fell apart. you were a mess, hair sprawled on the comforter, dress halfway up your body, wetness dripping from harvey's fingers.

he leans back on his knees, eyes blown wide with lust. his lips glisten and his carefully groomed hair and mustache are destroyed. he's breathing heavily, but he didn't stop his frenzy there. with rushed movements, he tugs off his tie, his button down, his undershirt till there was nothing adorning his body.

"need this off," he mumbles, pulling at the hem of your dress. you come out of your daze to rise up and slide the dress off your body. "jesus...," he whispers. he rises from his spot on the floor and gestures for you to scoot up to the bed. slowly, his body comes over yours and once again you become caged in his grip and his scent. "do i tell you that you're beautiful enough? because if i don't i need some sense slapped into me."

heat floods in your cheeks at his words. harvey, ever the kind gentleman, was a whole other person entirely. for a second, you wonder if you could tease more possessiveness out of him. he was already delirious with pleasure. what could a little more hurt?

"i'm glad you think so too, dr. harvey. shane really thinks i'm the best looking person in this whole town," you say with a smirk tilting your lips upward.

that fire reignites in his eyes again. in seconds, his hands come to your wrists and you feel pinned against the bed. his chest is rising and falling with intensity.

"if i hear another man's name on your lips tonight, you're getting it," he threatens.

and, because you can, you push him further. "shane. alex. sam. sebastian. lew-"

in a renewed sense of dominance, harvey clamps his hand over your mouth, effectively cutting you off. "i don't think you'll be able to talk when i'm done with you," he says, voice just slightly above a whisper.

"prove it," you whisper back.

harvey smiles with something sinister lurking beneath the service. he stands from the bed, eyes never leaving yours and tugs off his belt, then his pants. with no flourish, his length comes out, irresistibly hard from the night's activities. he climbs back on top of you, settling his center in front of yours. he's barely touching your core but it's sending you arching upwards.

"i don't think shane could manage making you feel this good, you know?" he teases your entrance. "i mean, if you'd like to try, go ahead, but you'll come back to me crying because he can't make you cum like this." slowly, he slides himself in. you let out an unearthly moan that is met with his own grunts. "you're all mine. no one else's." he fully enters you then, hitting as far back as he could manage.

he drags himself out, then slowly enters back in. it's torturous. horrible. so awfully frustrating.

"please, harv. more!" you beg. he kept up his slow pace, barely budging. "need you more." you sound just as pathetic as you feel.

"can shane make you feel this good?" he asks.

so that's what he wanted from you. "no!" you plead.

"are you all mine, then?"

"yes, all yours!"

"exclusively mine?"

"exclusively yours!"

at those final words, harvey fucks into you again with a quicker, rougher pace. this was what you needed more than air. your hands fly to his arms where your nails dig into the skin there. he would wake up with marks that remind him of the night, but maybe that was your purpose in doing so.

harvey is stretching you out in the most perfect of ways and the closeness of his body to yours sends shivers all over you. his hands are desperately clinging to every part of your exposed skin and his chest rises quickly in attempts to catch his breath. nothing could stop him from his actions right now. all he can focus on is the way you feel so tight around him, the way you're moaning his name, and the way he has to hold in his orgasm until you've came all over him.

which isn't too far away. it's building with every deep, powerful thrust he makes. he's hitting spots inside of you that he hadn't before. it's blissful, filthy, and perfect. in the middle of your ecstacy, you make a note to draw out harvey's jealous side more.

"fuck," he grunts out. it's so strange to hear such filthy language coming from your husband who balked any time you said swear words. "you're so fucking tight for me, huh?"

his dirty words pull out a loud moan from you which seemed to spur harvey on even further. his thrusts lost their rhythm and his breath became rapid. he was close and so were you. with urgent moves, you wrap your legs around his waist which sends his length inside of you as deep as it can go. your eyes meet with a silent agreement.

your moans mingle together, filling the room with lewd noises. your name is repeated over and over again until the moment you both feel that release toppling over the edge, filling your bodies head to toe with pure bliss. his body doesn't still, but instead he returns to the slow pace he began with, pumping his cum deep inside you.

after some breaths and stilled movements, he pulls out with a slick noise and falls to your side. his arms open up in a silent request for you to lay on his chest and you oblige. the bed is destroyed, your bodies are sweaty, and there's certainly something leaking out of you onto the sheets. but sheets can be washed, beds can be made, and showers can be had.

all that matters is that you were exclusively his, and shane could never make you feel like that.

[fairytail-whathesays]

Can you please feed me Rogue Cheney x (f) dragon slayer reader hedcanons who’s pregnant ? swf and nswf please.

Of course!

You didn't specify a guild this time, so there's a world of possibilities. If you're not an independent mage, maybe you're from Blue Pegasus or Lamia Scale or Mermaid Heel, or even Quatro Cerberus if we want to make things funny. Regardless, you're probably on the stronger end of the wizards there.

...So you were probably the forward one in starting the relationship. Sometimes you think it might've been easier going for one of the more bombastic ones; definitely needed level 90 speech and charisma to pull this one off.

Of course, once conversation started to come easier between you two, you hit it off well. Rogue is easily in touch with his feminine side and doesn't get insecure very easily, he loves adorable things (like Frosch) and is more of a listener than a speaker. He's kind of an ideal boyfriend when you get right down to it.

His ability to sink into the shadows and pull anyone he likes with him means that it's never very difficult to get away from crowds or other hassles, nor difficult to find privacy.

Rogue is great for de-stressing from long or difficult days. You can hang off of him if you need to be held, or if you want solitude, you have it. He will always be able to figure out which brand of chocolate you're after when some fool has pissed you off one too many times that day.

The pregnancy was guaranteed to have been planned. Not only because Rogue is too cautious in general to have passed on a condom, but is also highkey very concerned about the effects on a child that could be had by his hybridized genes and dragonized cells. So that means your relationship was probably at least a few years long. Congrats on bagging the one!

You don't get this far without Rogue being willing to step up. The wedding is very small and quiet, and you end up wearing a pendant with jetblack dragon scales dangling from it.

God he looked great in a suit, though.

Do you do each other's hair? Of course.

Sex with Rogue is kind of like making love with a shadow. He's unusually hairless and smooth and he always seems to be able to move around and wiggle into the right positions almost like he's barely moving.

It's typically very slow, both for fear of hurting you and because that's just how Rogue does sex. You can, with some prodding, get him to go harder--but almost never faster.

He loves the little details. He loves listening to your heartbeat, he loves running fingers through your hair, he loves little marks and identifying features and leaving some of his own.

Sex that is already very gentle becomes even moreso when there's a bun in the oven, 'cause he's so against anything that might damage the bun or the oven. It's almost like a religious experience, it's slow and easy and attentive and wow he's good at using his fingers--

Can you deny him anything? Yes? Okay then, how about you try denying him anything when those pretty shiny red eyes are peering into yours?

[koolaidoverliving]

GENERAL HCS FOR EVERYONE, GO!

OOOOOO FUNNNN

these are gonna be all over the place LMFAO just a bunch of random stuff they do in my AU nothing specific

GENERAL HEADCANONS

Characters: Jeff, Ben, Sally, Toby, Clockwork, Kate, Nurse Ann, Eyeless Jack, Lulu, Lazari, Liu, Jane, Nina, The Puppeteer, Bloody Painter, Judge Angels, Lucy, Suicide Sadie, Jason, Nathan, Candy Pop, Laughing Jack, Zero, Kagekao, X-Virus

Lazari has terrible pronunciation and grammar. Ben makes fun of her for it while Lulu teaches her better English.

Sally invites the proxies to attend her weekly tea parties. Except for Zero and Kagekao. They're banned.

Nina has a dislike for Clockwork due to her being Jeff's best-friend. She's rather petty towards her — like an annoying high school girl — which Clockwork rolls an eye at.

Over time, Clockwork and Toby help Nina realise how bad Jeff is for her. But right now in the AU, Nina is head over heels for a man who doesn't love her back.

Jeff takes good care of his appearance. He deeply hates how he looks since the incident, so he's always trying new things to make himself look better. For that reason he steals a lot of skincare, accessories and makeup.

Nurse Ann's hair was turned red due to Zalgo's influence. It's nothing significant, just an effect of her reanimation. Her original hair colour is brown.

Liu was somewhat of a delinquent when he was a teenager. He taught his little brother how to jump fences and steal from people at church.

Liu and Jeff have matching rosary necklaces. Jeff can't get himself to wear it anymore. Too much guilt.

Eyeless Jack likes gardening. He has flower pots lined on the window sill and a mini produce garden in front of his cabin. His favourite flower is the snapdragon.

He uses grown herbs to make herbal remedies and perfumes for Lulu.

Toby and Kate steal from Jack's garden. Kate does it unknowingly because Toby lies and tells her they're gifts from Jack.

Kate sometimes collapses in the woods after her Chaser form. When it gets too late and she isn't home, a few proxies go out to look for her.

The Bloody Painter and The Puppeteer are best friends, although Pup tends to be possessive of him.

The Puppeteer is superficially nice. The kind of nice that makes you wonder if there's something worse underneath the surface.

Zero's last name is The Hero. "Cower before me, humans! It is I: Zero The Hero!"

She is also colourblind (can only see in monochrome) and can't tell the difference between Toby and Cody.

Zero loves politics because of the tension it arises. She tried to run for "president of the mansion". Ben ran against her and he won.

Laughing Jack rarely leaves his box.

Once a month, Toby and Cody "switch places" — changing clothes and pretending to be each other. Cody hates this; Toby finds it funny.

Cody mindlessly lies about little things. It's like filler conversation. He isn't paying attention and just says stuff. "What'd you do this weekend?" "Built a snowman," Cody says, even though it's summer.

Lucy hates The Puppeteer because he's always stealing "dad" (Helen) away from "mom" (Dina). It's one-sided beef.

Dina is a bookworm. She's the type to sit under the shade on a plaid picnic blanket and read a novel while eating freshly picked strawberries.

Sadie is also a bookworm. Except she reads Colleen Hoover books and recommends it to Dina. Dina smiles and nods, knowing she'll never read that.

Jane listens to true-crime podcasts — or rather interviews with past victims. She finds it easier to cope with her trauma knowing she's not in it alone.

Candy Pop has a skill for writing. He had spent a lot of time in libraries, utterly fascinated by human works. Candy Pop writes poetry, novels and plays of his own.

He's pretty childish, too. He likes making friendship bracelets, drawing with chalk, crafting (ugly) dolls, etc.

The kids join in when Candy Pop is absentmindedly drawing on the streets. Lucy finds Candy Pop to be rather embarrassing and talks shit about him to Crystal. "He's playing with crayons and chalk at his big age!" "...No comment."

Nathan is a self-taught tattoo artist. All his piercings and tattoos are done by himself.

Jason and Nathan take care of stray cats that roam around. There isn't a vet at the town, so they try their best to keep both the cats and themselves safe. Candy Pop isn't allowed near these cats because he tries to juggle them.

Jason has a sweet tooth — particularly for biscuits and tea. The amount of sugar he consumes contrasts his bitter personality.

wow... long post. these are just a bunch of random facts!

send an ask if you have any questions!!! :D

[irradiatedrosegarden]

Benny Gecko headcanons

disclaimer: these are all my personal headcanons for him, no worries if they don't align with yours! everyone's interpretation of this guy is different, and that's pretty cool imo :3

5'7" and wishes he was taller.

Bisexual (I mean, look at him)

Trans man

Changed a lot (maybe the most, out of all the Boot Riders) after becoming the Chairmen, both mentally and physically. "Ciao to the old ways, baby - time to swing in style. If the shoes fit, you wear 'em." He adjusted the fastest out of all of the Boot Riders/Chairmen, as well, adopting his new persona flawlessly - from the wardrobe, to the vocabulary, to his new dreams of one day running the city himself. He molded perfectly with the Vegas lifestyle, gained weight once he wasn't walking through the desert for days on end and had every meal already secured, and thanks to the New Vegas Medical Clinic, was able to medically transition. He thrives off of the luxury, but has to pretend he doesn't miss the old Boot Rider days sometimes.

Mostly, what he regrets about transforming the Boot Riders into the Chairmen is the loss of some of their camaraderie. There's a different kind of companionship, of ride-or-die bonding that comes with being one of a band of nomads, relying only on themselves and each other to survive the harshness of the desert. The Chairmen are still incredibly loyal to one another; the sole reason no one other than Bingo opposed Benny's choice to move into the Tops once he was the leader - not enough to physically do anything about it, anyway. But some of that closeness they used to have was lost. Benny grew distant from the rest of his tribe, rising to great heights as the leader of the Tops, the one in charge - even being adopted as House's protégé - and leaving the others in his dust.

(this is pretty much canon but) he never had a second thought about agreeing to House's offer. He never thought for a second that the Boot Riders shouldn't become the Chairmen.

Trust Issues™

Terrible at controlling his facial expressions, often pulls involuntary faces (grimaces, scrunching his face/nose, pouting, grinning humorously, etc.) (all very briefly, just a split-second reaction to something or nothing) - often there's nothing going on that would elicit such an expression; it just happens involuntarily.

Gets random muscle spasms throughout the day, mostly in his hands or feet/legs. He'll accidentally hit/kick stuff, knock stuff over, or drop anything he's carrying.

Likes to sit on the floor while he eats, but doesn't like other people to know that. He'll sometimes lock himself in a bedroom or bathroom just to eat on the floor without being given funny looks.

Gets along best with Arcade, out of all the companions/roommates living in the Lucky 38. Has semi-frequent spitting matches with Cass that start out genuinely spiteful, but eventually transform into the one way they really bond: sibling-esque bickering. They get into a fistfight pretty early on, though, after Benny makes the mistake of calling Cass "Whiskey Rose" after learning that she hates it (dick move on his part, to be fair, but did he deserve his nose broken?).

Struggles with mental illness, has hallucinations and delusions that he takes medication for (which he gets from the New Vegas Medical Clinic), but has a very low alcohol tolerance as a side effect; he tends to avoid drinking.

One of his delusions is that the city of Vegas is somehow actually, truly alive, and it chose him specifically to rule it, to lead it to a new glory - a new independence. He believes he, and he alone, can run the city the way it was meant to be run - the way it needs to be run.

Maria was given to him as a gift from House, along with the checkered suit, the wingtip shoes, and the keys to his new home: the Tops Hotel and Casino.

Even before becoming the Chairmen, living the rich man's life in Vegas, Benny had a liking for the finer things in life. Especially nowadays, he appreciates spending the extra caps for the finest of the fine, smoking a distinctive, expensive brand of cigarettes, wearing his nice suit even on a trek through the desert, etc. His favorite food is oranges, another notably expensive thing to regularly eat (they aren't exactly common in the wasteland), part of the reason why he loves them so much.

One of his favorite ways to show affection toward someone is by peeling an orange for them, handing them slices one by one.

Speaking of affection, Benny is very showy, often cheesy, in how he shows it. The grander the gesture, and more importantly, the bigger the reaction it garners, the better. He loves surprising his partner, with anything from gifts to kisses.

His breath usually smells like cigarettes and oranges, very occasionally with a hint of alcohol.

Drinks water out of wine and champagne glasses, partly for the expensive aesthetic, partly to hide the fact that it's only water that he's drinking.

Very intelligent and cunning, but tends to be short-sighted. He has these big, great plans, but overlooks the finer details, and ultimately ends up failing more often than not. (See: plotting out the courier's ambush and murder, but neglecting to ensure they were actually dead; figuring out how to (with help) reprogram an entire Securitron, but then double crossing the person who helped him; successfully sneaking all the way into the Fort, with the Platinum Chip in hand(!!!), but getting caught because he didn't wear a helmet so as to not mess up his hair, etc.).

Sleeps around; canonically a pretty boy, very much plays into the persona of the smooth-talking, sensual, gorgeous casino-owner. Either intentionally or not, his good looks can't be denied as part of the reason the Tops is as popular as it is. Who doesn't want to patronize a casino with a charming, handsome owner - who can often be found hanging out on the ground floor, overlooking the tables, talking up whoever will listen? There are some rumors, shared in a hush underneath the rolling of the roulette wheels, the overhead swing music, that Benny is the town bicycle; rumors of people he's supposedly had a fling with. He's a regular Casanova.

Paranoia™

this man is doomed by the narrative and it's making me insane

His hair is curly, but he styles it with so much gel (gotta look like a 1950s gentleman, y'know) you can't tell, save for the single curl that always seems to fail to remain smoothed back. Living with Daisy (my courier six!), especially during the recovery after Benny is rescued from the Fort, he wears his hair loose, which Daisy particularly appreciates (she loves when he lays his head on her lap/chest and she plays with his hair; much nicer when it's not all crusty or greasy with hair gel or spray).

Small feet

Canonically disappears for days - sometimes weeks - at a time, deciding on a whim to wander who-knows-where around the Mojave and be alone for a while. Brushed off by the others back in Vegas, namely by Swank, as "a cat needing some time to swing," but they get worried when the days turn into weeks. No one really knows where he goes. All they know is that in seven years, he hadn't ever failed to return - the Fort changed that (in my game, he was held captive there for several months).

Loves physical contact as a way to show affection, loves hugs, hand-holding, massages, and people playing with his hair. So does Daisy, which makes for a pair of absolute lovebirds once they're living together; they're inseparable, pretty much always touching one another, even if it's just a hand resting on the other's shoulder or waist, an arm around their shoulders, hand in hand and side by side. They're practically glued at the hip.

Bottom™

Runs his hands through his hair as an anxious habit (maybe the reason for the aforementioned loose curl), taps his feet, and bites his lip, often to the point of bleeding. He tries to be subtle in his anxious stimming, but if you know him, and know how he acts, you'll always be able to tell when he's nervous.

Used to be married to Swank, but after too much changed - after Benny changed too much - when the Boot Riders became the Chairmen, they divorced. It was Swank's idea, coming to Benny's suite one night and explaining honestly how he felt, how he felt things would continue to change moving forward, and how he realized that, in order for things to continue going smoothly, the nature of their relationship needed to change. Swank wasn't going anywhere - he had Benny's back, and nothing would change that - but he couldn't, in good conscience, continue to be Benny's husband. Too much had changed; he felt like Benny was trying to hide their relationship, treating him differently in front of others, even the other Chairmen. It didn't feel right.

Still calls Swank by the name he had before they became the Chairmen.

Never stopped wearing the wedding ring Swank gave him; switches it to his right hand after he marries Daisy.

Writes little letters, (like "Thanks, baby") and attempts to write little poems, for his partner. His . . . unique vocabulary comes across in writing, but the romance of said writing is . . . debatable.

Good leader. Like it or not, he earned his place as chief of the Boot Riders, and kept up that leadership position after the transition to the Chairmen, for seven years and still going strong when the courier comes and messes everything up.

Has big dreams, big, big ideas and hopes and ambitions. Sometimes, they're too big. Sometimes, they end up with him falling flat on his face when he tries to reach too high, to admittedly dangerous unattainable heights. Does that stop him from trying? Fuck no.

Terrible nightmares and night terrors, goes on long walks outside (usually staying within the city limits) when he's scared at night.

[jrueships]

Biggest squicks with the nba fandom?

squick?? AW, that's a cute word!!!! im stealing that now, thank u anon! for squicks in the fanfom.. hm um probs colorism towards dark skins & its unseen seen effects . i feel this way toward Fandom in general and life lol. U'll see it everywhere of course.. huzzah..

anyways yea. i feel like the nba should have a way bigger Fandom on here as a sport, i mean. At least bigger than some. The players don't wear a helmet so u can see their emotions, their expressions! Everyone's taking high quality pics up close! The ball isn't the size of a pebble going 50 mph like in hockey lol. There's no helmets!!! U can see them!! Like! I love it! I love seeing faces! I love football but it's the celebrations that rlly make it, esp when it's a pretty wr who u just know is gonna take his helmet off and do smthing funny for the cam!

But that's also probably why it doesn't have a big tumblr Fandom .. u can see their faces .

Even if u couldn't, u'd eventually see most of them aren't white so. Yea .

And abt the colorism aspect, most of the players that do have a big Fandom are light skin. That's why im not the biggest fan for 'all x positions are x' bcs i feel like that's a big thing in football where all qbs are bttms. Which is funny, and i can see it! Im not trying to ruin ppls fun! But when u see how a majority of qbs are usually white for most of history.. and the ones that aren't get some attention if they look like Tua .. but if they look like lamar jackson.. good f'ing luck trying to find bttm fics for that even tho dude's got a bbl . Even tho i believe in switch supremacy for a lot of ppl (lamar included), i feel like i gotta fight for more ppl like lamar even being able to bttm at all.

Meanwhile ppl like luka or Joey b are just automatically always bttms bcs. Yea. They're 'pretty', so u just gotta apparently. But ppl will say jrue holiday is pretty! But does he have any fics at all of him bttming? Nah. Don't gotta for him. Hm. Wonder why ( I know) .

And with the rise of biracial nepo baby kids in the nba, some of them rlly gravitate to the pg position bcs it's like the head of the machine, and they think they can run that well with all the experience of their pops. So all pgs being bttms are kinda just gonna turn into that qb scenario where it's all light/white pgs are bttms and the other guys can be included thru spoken word sometimes but Def not on paper. And I hate saying this bcs i feel like a Debby downer or smthing. I'm not even trying to call out anyone or anything, it's rlly just a personal vent noticing thing that i can't point out specifics to, i can just say I've felt things.

Ppl go into Fandom to have fun! I'm not trying to police shit. This is all personal venting. But like im here to have fun too, and when u happen to be able to notice more stuff, u kinda just. Notice it. And it doesn't feel fun

And I'm not saying they're totally ignored, dark skin ppl in media. We're def modernizing somewhat . But when dark skin ppl usually ARE included, it HAS to involve a lighter sided person. And it's usually the lighter person bttming and the dark topping. And like i can get it, u know. Sometimes it's just the personality dynamic where the appearance happens to have that! But sometimes the appearance seems to overwhelm the personality aspect, or the personality just isn't showing that strength in the fic and it starts to feel. Weird.

I'm not saying all ships where the lighter one bttms are bad tho. I'm not. But I am saying that it fucking sucks to always have to fight hard against 'absolutes' when the absolutes are always against u . Like. Idk. When i had a luka ship with dennis (a black player whos not lightskin) and mentioned how Dennis was a bttm and all a sudden i got an ask abt how luka can't be a top . Like. Alright man.

U know, cus it's like. U'd never get someone defending idk. Jaren like that. Unless ure me Lol. But that's the thing, like it always has to be me or smthing against the world which is fucking stupid bcs i hate that thinking. It's so selfish! Which makes it less fun to be in the Fandom sometimes bcs it feels even more isolated in an already isolated space sometimes. But that's a personal thing. Anyways

Yeah. It's just tiring sometimes.

It's like the only ships that have white/black player where the white guy is a top.. the black guys GOTTA be a power bttm or SMTHING to explain it like. We have to explain why our beloved princess white guy isn't bttming to idk some black dude lol. But if u reverse that then the white guy bttm doesn't have to be a power bttm bcs no one blinks an eye bcs it already makes sense to them or whatever. Lol.

Lol ..

[green-alien-turdz]

i want you to go over each and every small character detail you add and explain i love your mind and your art dude no homo

Okay, here we go

STAN: Peace sign pin on his hat n sometimes wears preachy shirts about environmentalism bcuz he's an ecofag. He has faint old scars on his arms n thighs cuz he used to cut. He's often covered in bruises bcuz the CD shows are tightly packed n he will inevitably get hit at least once.

KENNY: Covered in shit load of scars bcuz dead as hell. He's missin a visible top tooth bcuz it got cracked as shit n asked the gang to pull it out for him, which they very poorly did. While he doesn't care about havin nice clothes, he likes comedy shirts bcuz he'll lose his mind if he can't make someone at least chuckle.

CARTMAN: Stretch marks bcuz he a big bitch. His hair is the exact same bcuz he got so used to it as a kid n now has anxiety about changin it (he will never admit this). He also likes wearin funny shirts bcuz Kenny got him goin on that. Bro also wears tight or more showin clothin when he feels cuz he couldn't give less of a shit about how other view his body.

KYLE: Mouth scars from Human Centipad (he just kinda ignores the scars now. He couldn't come to terms with them, so he just numbed himself to them), sh scars bcuz that bitch ain't well. Jewfro in full bloom as he just doesn't care n he REALLY needs to take better care of it bcuz it's so matted. CD shirt 95% of the time bcuz it's like his #1 comfort item.

MARJORINE (or Butters if we're goin by show name): She keeps her hair at that very specific length bcuz it's long enough to where she feels more feminine, but short enough to where her parents don't suspect anything (but gettin allowed to grow it that long took a lot of convincing). He eye left eye is scarred n not able to move much due to the throwin star incident (she is blind in that eye). She does have old sh scars from middle school when she had to come to terms with bein trans n she was extremely confused n conflicted about all of it. She likes wearin skirts bcuz it makes her feel more feminine, but has to get dressed once out in public, so it's somethin she can quickly get on and off if need be.

IKE: Long hair/mullet adjacent bcuz he is just likin the look right now n after Sheila made him keep his hair short for majority of his childhood, he's just kinda feelin out different things. I gave him freckles bcuz in Cartman Get's an Anal Probe, Kyle calls him a 'freckly kid'. Bro got them glasses bcuz he grew up on the computer. His front tooth is cracked n brown bcuz he n Kyle were wrestlin n Ike hit a table. And while it's not completely uncommon for people to start growin facial hair in middle school, Ike started to bcuz Canadians hit puberty earlier.

KAREN: She has a birth mark on the left side of her face (did this in placement for the weird maybe dirt stain she has in the show). Her hair is long n all over the place bcuz she doesn't really brush her hair (you can blame Kenny for the influence) n she cuts it herself but is not too great at layering. Growin up impoverished n around the ideologies that Stan n CD always talks about made her rather angry in the sphere of politics n human rights, so she is very vocal about her opinions of the shit she sees (which is why she always writes shit on her clothes). She can also sometimes be seen wearin a rasta coloured beanie, which was Kevin's before he died.

CRAIG: Usually wearin his work hoodie (Fagoccini's Pizzaria) bcuz mf doesn't care to put in effort outside of that seein as he works so much. Bro wears a similar hat to the one he did as a kid bcuz it brought him a lot of comfort, n now that his hairline is recedin n he's baldin a lil bit at 18, he wears it bcuz he's a lil insecure. He doesn't give a shit that his teeth a crooked n gapped cuz it doesn't effect shit, but he does have a bit of an underbite that pisses him off bcuz he swears up n down that's what makes his voice sound so nasally.

TWEEK: Hair all fuckin wild bcuz he cuts it himself, n loses patience quickly n starts choppin. He also has white streaks in his hair which started appearing after his parents got arrested n durin his very long detox (from the stress of the info and on his body cuz of the dependency). He's got scratches all over his face n body from stress scratchin, meltdowns, n a few mishaps here n there. Bro also got sh scars bcuz bro got a lotta shit that went down n his brain chemistry is FUCKED.

WENDY: She cuts her hair short bcuz she wants to have a more androgynous appearance, but is still very confident with bein feminine n shit like that. When she started to become more human rights n social justice oriented, she started to get into boxing (as well as wrestling in school). She thought it would be a good to know how to fight if it came down to it. Plus she could already kick ass before, n she just thought it would be best to hone that ability.

BEBE: Started changin quite a bit after she had a whole moment of thinkin that she would turn out exactly like her mom (she has nothin wrong with her, just doesn't want that life). While she's still into things like cheer, she also started lookin into things that weren't what she was used to. She ended up findin Pink Flamingos, n became obsessed with Divine ever since. She dyes her cuz she feels better with it. n while she still does her makeup conventionally, she likes doin a more dark colour palet.

CLYDE: He's just Clyde. Dude's appearance didn't change that much bcuz he didn't change much. Some mfs just kinda be like that.

TOLKEIN: His mom suggested he try different hairstyles to be more connected with his culture bcuz he was havin a moment where he felt a lil blah bein the only Black dude his age in the area. He doesn't do upkeep as much as he should though, so things are a lil messy, but he doesn't see a problem as workin on the farm makes everythin messy so much faster anyway.

JIMMY: Bro just dresses casually. He doesn't really care about clothes or shit bcuz he can get people's attention with his comedy. Ladies man as fuck

HENRIETTA: Always has the best outfits bcuz she got into sewin so that she could start makin shit that she specifically wanted. She has a few tattoos- some are stick n pokes she did with her friends, others her mom signed off on when she was still under 18. She tries to ward people off with her makeup, which works rather well in South Park. She has both old sh scars from her emo moment (where she was just doin it cuz that's what she was told emo's did), n ones from later on where she was just feelin super empty n couldn't find a way to romanticize it like done previously.

FIRKLE: He's still in middle school so he doesn't go AS out there with his fashion bcuz he doesn't have the in-school support of his friends anymore. But still does dramatic makeup which he gets in trouble for all the time.

MICHAEL: Simple clothes that he's comfortable in, but not so simple that he feels like he's conforming. Pierced his ears up n down bcuz he was told he couldn't. Pierced his own eyebrow 3 different times bcuz it keeps growin out. Knee brace due to arthritis, unfortunately. A shit load of sh scars bcuz he always tries to act so stoic n unbothered around everyone else, that it led to him breaking down all the time in private bcuz he wasn't allowin himself to feel things.

/\ They have a matchin stick n poke 'nevermore' tattoo bcuz they thought it'd be pretty dope n they wanted to connect themselves with eachother via blood usin the same needle (don't do that, it's not great to get other people's blood in ya) \/

PETE: Dude's mom is extremely supportive of him bein goth, so much so that she was the one dyin his hair as a kid bcuz he asked. He has a very specific style that he likes n sometimes he goes through his grandpa's old shit to find stuff to wear (usually altering it to be more dark in appearance).

(There are others I have designs for, but bcuz I haven't posted them much, imma just stop here.)

Enjoy this fuckin novel, bro. Thank you. And I'm sorry, but I'm a full homo kind of guy

[greengirllover]

this is my comprehensive guide to acne

my qualifications: years ago i had a guy take a picture of me and play connect the dots on my face (it was actually pretty funny and i made fun of him too bc he was 5’1 so it’s okay)

first of all don’t pop ur pimples for the love of god, i know everyone says that but what could likely happen is a short term problem can turn into a long term problem with scarring and damage to the skin barrier due to trauma to that surface layer of the skin, instead use things like pimple patches, most brands that make those cute colorful ones don’t really stick to the skin and so they are practically useless, a pimple patch is supposed to mimic a hydrocolloid bandage which draws liquid out of a wound, if the patch isn’t sticking well to the skin because you didn’t clean the area of skin first or the patch just isn’t very high quality again it is going to be practically useless, also micro dart patches are great, the micro darts go into the pimple and so not only are u drawing out the sebum, u are also putting whatever acne fighting substance into that pimple, my favorite brand for these is hero cosmetics, u can also use a hot/cold compress on the pimple to draw it to a head which will help ur products work better on that pimple

now for the nerdy stuff, chemical exfoliants are ideal at least for me because they aren’t physically abrasive like a scrub which again can cause trauma to the skin and then possible scarring, the ingredients that u want to look for that will chemically exfoliate the skin and help acne are benzoyl peroxide, salicylic acid, glycolic acid and others, u don’t need expensive products, pay attention to the ingredients and find one without fragrance and has the ingredients you want, and for acne scarring other than the ones i mentioned which are more focused on helping acne but also can help scarring are vitamin c, niacinamide, azelaic acid, vitamin a and others, my favorites are panoxyl products with benzoyl peroxide, and ordinary has some good things for glycolic acid and others

now the way u treat ur body can have a big impact on ur skin, i won’t tell u to drink water bc i think someone might stab me for it and i wouldn’t blame them but rlly it won’t hurt, fueling ur body and having a balanced diet can be huge, this doesn’t mean cutting things out for the most part it means adding things in like healthy fats and protein, this can help balance hormones which are huge factors in acne, also if u have a period u can consider going on birth control, again it can rlly help balance ur hormones and talk to ur doctor about one that specifically has been known to help acne, now if u can go to see a derm it’s a good choice, they can prescribe treatments at a higher concentration than u can get over the counter, they can also give u things like antibiotics which can be very beneficial and aren’t likely to have side effects, but they might recommend things like accutane and spirolactone, these are more likely to have side effects and u mostly can’t get anything like it without a dermatologists permission, this will likely mean blood tests, pregnancy tests and regular visits to check up on ur overall health because they can be very abrasive treatments

finally, wearing sunscreen and keeping ur skin moisturized are going to be huge, sun exposure can worsen acne scarring and most of these treatments are very drying so on top of sun exposure ur skin is also constantly being dried out, if u are nervous about breaking out from a sunscreen then do ur research on the ingredients and others experiences, also u can get tinted sunscreen or bb cream with SPF in it so that u can have some coverage of acne or scaring while also protecting ur skin from further damage

i’m sure i missed some things so if u have questions i’ll do my best to answer, i know how frustrating this can be which is why i made this post, remember that the way that u look is the least important thing about u and that u will never see urself the way others see u, it isn’t even close to as big of a deal as we think it is just like any other physical insecurity

[agentsofmarvel]

because y’all really liked the last one, here’s

some of my favorite agents of shield fun facts (season 2 edition)

this is part one! i have a lot of season 2 facts so i split it into two parts!! 🫶🏼

- clark gregg found out coulson was the new director of shield a few days before filming.

- chloe bennet said playing skye in season two was almost like playing another person as skye’s bubbly personality has become more “muted”. chloe said some skye’s more muted personality is due to learning it from may as her SO.

- i don’t know if i just forgot or never payed too much attention to it (as i don’t remember this happening), but it’s said fitz’s hypoxia also caused him to lose function in one hand.

- elizabeth only found out she was going to start the season undercover days before filming. she also didn’t know it would be hydra until a day or two before filming.

- the character of hunter was created to be a direct opposite of coulson, but still on the good side. they pretty much made hunter a character to see how funny it would be for him to piss off coulson.

- in season one, skye was created to be the “eyes of the audience” when it came to shield. in season two, they made bobbi the new “eyes of the audience” as she’s new to coulson’s shield and the characters.

- henry simmons has auditioned for multiple roles in the MCU before he was called in to read for mack. they were nervous to cast him as he was said to be “too handsome” but they liked how sweet he was doing the scenes involving fitz so they gave him the role.

- the executive producers and showrunners had a two week break between finishing season one and starting season two.

- in the scenes where fitz is really struggling with the effects of hypoxia, some of them took multiple tales because elizabeth would start to cry and they would have to pull her aside and tell her simmons wouldn’t cry right now and restart the scene.

- the simmons that fitz imagines throughout the season is wearing the exact same outfit from the season one episode “FZZT”. before this simmons had never repeated an outfit in episodes, which is why the producers said her wearing a duplicate outfit was a sign this simmons may not be real.

- the set designers made the Playground dark and old-fashioned design-wise to provide a direct contrast to the new, bright Bus from season one to show shield going back to its 1940s routes as it rebuilds from scratch.

- they didn’t put a toilet in ward’s cell because it was an open set and the crew said they didn’t want to look at a toilet out in the open every time they worked there.

- the character of hartley was created to show the audience that nobody is safe and that a character can die just like that. damn they really said “don’t get too comfortable, they can all die that fast”

- chloe says there is a ton of easter egg’s throughout the show of skye and the number three. she says one is that she only wears three rings after season one but the fans should figure out the rest.

- to make it seem as if coulson’s team has become more experienced during season one, the cast went through a solider boot camp where they even had live-firing exercises with loaded g*ns.

like i said, this is part one of the season two facts. i’m working on season two part two and season three right now and i’ll post them ASAP :)

[pablitogavii]

pablo x bratty!reader where she just has an attitude and he puts her in her place. smut of course please

His naughty little cheerleader

Pablo’s POV

She came to watch one of my latest trainings wearing this cute cheerleader outfit that made my shorts feel tight and my mind run wild. I wasn’t the only one who was affected by her little “danced moves” as all my teammates were eyeing her up and down as she twirled around innocently.

“Preciosa, can you come here please?” I said when we had a break and she smiled wide running towards me and giving me a tight hug. When we pulled away, I grabbed her jaw and kissed her passionately leaving her breathless and making all the guys stop staring her down now that she was in my arms. That’s right gilipollas, she is mine!

“What are you wearing princesa??” I said and she blushed knowing exactly the kind of effect it would have on me.

“Do you like it Pablito??” she said twirling around while I took my time looking at her exposed thighs and that skirt fitting her so perfectly that it made me weak. I placed my hand on her waist holding her in place while looking down at her sternly.

“Of course I like it mi amor, but no estamos solos..” I said and she giggled shrugging her shoulders when the rest of the guys called her sitting on the benches and drinking some water.

“You have some moves! We could use a cheer team, huh boys??” Balde said with a smirk eyeing her down and I wanted to hit his stupid face and remind him that it was my girl he was fantasizing about.

“Can you show us the dance again??” Ansu said and everyone nodded while my fists were tighter because I knew what they wanted to see. They wanted to see her thighs when she twirls around, her body as it moves and her perky bum bounce.

“Sure!” she said and I couldn’t believe my ears grabbing her wrist and pulling her closer but she just smirked whispering “sit and enjoy” into my ear making me smirk but still feeling angry that they will see her dance.

We were sitting down as she moved carefully, and I looked to the side clenching my jaw when I saw that their eyes were wide open, and they were taking in every detail of her body. Cabróns!

Even though all the eyes were on her, hers didn’t move from mine which kept me sane but when she bend down, I lost my tolerance and grabbed her carrying her inside.

Your POV

I wanted to see how long it would take him to react, knowing his short fuse, and the moment I bent down he lost it grabbing my waist and tossing me over his broad shoulders while carrying me inside into the one of the changing rooms.

“You think that’s funny!?” he said after putting me down and when I giggled to his face that angered him more pushing me against the locker and wrapping his large hand around my neck turning me on to the max.

“Looks like I have to put you into your place, my little brat!?” his voice was low, and I knew from seeing his bulge pressed against his kit that he won’t be waiting until we get home to teach me a lesson.

“No words now, huh?? And you were so quick to say, ‘yes’ to dancing for my friends!?” he said grabbing my body and pulling me close while sitting down and making me straddle his lap. His lips attached mine angrily leaving me breathless moaning mess begging him to give me more.

“What am I going to do with you, my little bratty cheerleader?? Huh?” he said raising my skirt and spanking my ass roughly that couldn’t stop a loud whine that left my lips.

“Pablo..please” I said giving him innocent eyes but he saw right through my attempt to soften his anger shaking his head and grabbing my ass roughly that his fingerprints were definitely left to decorate my soft skin.

“I am the only one you can dance for..the only one to see you in this little outfit and to take it off your perfect body whenever I wish! Understand!?” he said and you nodded obediently regretting pushing his limits earlier.

“I don’t hear you!?” he spanked me again and I realized that he wanted me to use my words.

“Yes, sir!” I said and he nodded rubbing the red spot gently and I relaxed looking at his lips desperately wanting him to kiss me.

“Good girl!” he said kissing my lips finally whine taking himself out of his shorts, moving my panties to the side and filling me up completely while I moaned his name loud enough for anyone in proximity to hear but I didn’t give a shit enjoying how good he was making me feel.

Pablo's POV

She was clenching around me so perfectly that I couldn't help but groan while pouding into her without mercy grabbing her hair and pulling her head back while feasting on her neck hungrily.

I loved seeing her skin decorated with my marks and what I loved even more is that everyone could see them and know she is all mine!

"F..fuck Pablo.." she was a moaning mess and I ate up her whines holding her tightly against myself feeling ehr thighs shake as her orgasm was approaching.

"You're perfect mi amor.." I whispered into her ear feeling her release all over me making me smirk proudly while chasing my own release.

"I'm so close anjo..keep moaning my name!" I said and she moaned my name like a chant clenching around me like a vice and holding my hair tightly with her small hands.

"F..fuck..yes!" I groaned reaching my own high before kissing her lips lovingly and pulling her more into me so that she could rest her head against my shoulder.

"I'm sorry if I made you angry..I only wore it to cheer for you Pablo.." she spoke softly and I smiled kissing the top of her head feeling my heart melt at how adorable she was.

"Let's clean you up and I want to give you something preciosa..." I said helping her up and taking the rest of her little "outfit" off before walking to my locker and taking out my new jersey. I slipped it over her small body and it ended up looking like dress on her.

"Now you can cheer for me princesa..and this little outfit you can wear for me at home after a win..deal?" I said and she twirled around feeling the material of my jersey on her body and smiling wide.

"Deal!" she squealed looking up at me with puckered lips and i kissed them sweetly before kissing her forehead lovingly. That's my good girl! Those gilipollas will only see my name on her back from now on!

"Ready to go princesa?" I said reaching my hand for her but she shyly shook her head making me stop and furrow my eyes at her.

"My legs kinda hurt.." she said and I smirked making her face turn completely red but I reassured her that was a compliment meaning I was doing my job right.

"Piggy back ride then?" I said and she clapped her hands nodding ehr head excitedly before getting onto my back as I walked back to the pitch noticing that everyone was gossiping quietly seeing my name shining on her back instead of the little outfit she wore.

She was only my naughty little cheerleader, gilipollas!

[sinsiriuslyemo]

Title: The Dark Day

Rating: NC17 (language and smut)

Summary: You and Gordon try to make breakfast, but get distracted. It's fine.

Notes: This is part two (but technically part three?) to The Dark Morning and The Dark Night.

Warnings: language, explicit oral sex

Making breakfast together was always a game of who could distract who first, one that both of you played rather well. You would divide the prep work, each of you working at opposite ends of the kitchen counter, and whichever of you could distract the other long enough to finish their portion first would get to kick back while the loser cooked and later, cleaned up the mess.

This morning was no different. After falling back asleep for a few more hours, you got up a little after twelve o’clock and decided to have breakfast despite the lunch hour. You were stirring ingredients for pancake batter into a bowl while Jim was cutting onions, breaking and whisking eggs, and grating cheese for omelets. From the corner of your eye, his head turned toward you, and you couldn’t help the smirk that began to form on your lips.

“It’s completely unfair,” he said, looking back to make two more cuts on the onion and setting the knife down. “Just so you know.”

Your smirk widened. “It’s not like you haven’t seen me in my underwear before.”

You had decided, much to his chagrin as well to his delight, to cook breakfast in the very clothes you slept in — a white, ribbed tank top and black boy shorts. He was also wearing his pajamas, which while being much more modest than yours were just as effective at distracting you. Something about seeing Sergeant James Gordon, who was usually immaculate in his suit and tie, in comfortable flannel pajama pants and a soft t-shirt just made your mouth water. Add to that the way his hair was just messy enough to be sexy rather than funny, and you swore that you being in your underwear was merely you evening the playing field.

“True, but that doesn’t mean it has any less impact,” he replied, leaning back to get a look at how the boyshorts only covered about two-thirds of your ass. “Christ, and you look so good in them.”

He came up behind you and put his hands on either side of your hips, his finger slipping under your tank top, and his head resting on your shoulder.

“Why do you look so good?” he whispered, taking your earlobe between his teeth and kissing along your jaw. He pulled you back against him and slowly pulled your hair to one side, placing it in front of the opposite shoulder.

“You know there’s only so much of a cushion you have before I catch up to you,” you warned breathlessly, leaning back against him.

He ignored your counsel, instead dropping a kiss on the back of your neck.

“What gives you the right to look so good so early in the day?” he purred against your ear, kissing a path down the side of your neck.

You hummed, hands stopping mid-stir as your eyes fell shut. “You’re cheating,” you said in a shiver.

His answer vibrated against your pulsepoint. “You started it.”

One of his hands slipped lower, his finger sliding under the waistband of your panties, earning a gasp from you. Tipping your hips back, you brushed his bulge with your ass, smiling when he grunted against your skin. There was movement in his pants that you felt, a light brush against your ass that alerted you to the fact that he was becoming just as turned on as you were.

“How long do you think this stuff can stay out without going bad?”

“I think the FDA recommends no more than two hours at room temperature,” you answered, turning in his arms and closing the space between you. Pressing your lips against his, you pushed him away from the counter, your fingers immediately finding his soft hair.

His glasses skimmed your forehead as he pulled them off, pausing at the corner of the counter to set them down before he let you push him against the wall. His hands cradled your face as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his tongue gently tracing the seam of your lips. As your tongues tenderly wrestled in your mouth, the two of you rolled along the wall, turning the corner into the hallway as you tugged at his shirt, bringing it up and over his head while he led you back toward the bedroom.

When your lips met again, he had caught your bottom lip between his, sucking softly as the two of you stumbled down the hall. His deft fingers slipped under your tank top, pulling it off you before he left it on the floor just outside the kitchen. Holding you against one side of the hallway, Jim dipped and took your nipple in his mouth, sucking deeply.

“Fuck!”

He hummed, biting down on the peak in the mouth. “We could do that,” he purred, kissing his way back up to your lips. “But I believe you said something about licking every inch of each other, didn’t you?”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” you replied with a smirk, rolling sideways so that he was pressed against the wall instead. Giving him one last kiss, you started a path down from his neck to his chest, biting one of his nipples as you sank to your knees.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry,” you said with a playful smile.

“No, you’re not,” he replied, smirking down at you. His head fell back against the wall, groan rumbling in his throat as you mouthed him over his flannel pajama pants.

Following the outline of his thick bulge, you curled your fingers into the waistband of his pants and pulled them down. You licked your lips at the sight of his cock bobbing in front of you and wrapped a hand around him, lifting it to pull his balls into your mouth one at a time. Jim groaned, his hips arching toward you as one hand threaded fingers in your hair. With the flat of your tongue, you lavved from his sac all the way up the prominent vein on the underside of his shaft until you reached the tip. You pulled his foreskin back and took the glistening head between your lips, shifting your eyes up to his face as you sucked softly.

The moment his eyes met yours, his cock gave a lurch, nearly slipping from your mouth. A gasp caught in his throat when you started to sink down his shaft, taking more and more of him into your mouth until you were relaxing your throat and letting him slip down.

“Oh God, Y/N,” he groaned, his fingers tightly curling around your hair.

Swallowing around him, you hummed and brought your free hand up to massage his balls while you slowly pulled back up, prolonging the anticipation of a proper blowjob for as long as possible. His jaw clenched, the hand in your hair tugging every few seconds, as though he was trying to keep himself from using his grip to move your head over him. Smiling around him as you reached his head, your tongue circled the v beneath his tip, earning another grunt. You swallowed the precum that oozed from his opening and began to bob over his hips. Your other hand stroked his base, smearing the saliva that your mouth left behind.

The only thing you loved more than the taste of Jim Gordon were the sounds he made while you tasted him. Deep, soft, throaty sounds that let you know just how delirious it made him when you were on your knees, worshiping his cock as though it was the last thing you would do on this earth. And coupled with the noises your mouth made as it slid up and down on his shaft, it was enough to make you come without him even needing to touch you.

It wasn’t long before his hips began to rock, his fingers once again tightening in your hair, and this time he didn’t hesitate to use his grip to guide your movements. His moans came closer together as he neared his orgasm, prompting you to double your efforts for a few more thrusts.

“I’m gonna come!” he moaned.

Inhaling deeply through your nose, you took him all the way down your throat again, swallowing around him.

A harsh growl ripped from his throat as his release burst from the tip of his cock, shooting down your throat while you swallowed around him. You cast your eyes up to his face as you pulled up, keeping the suction as you slid back to his head and swallowed the last of him before you let him pop free of your lips. His forehead was shiny with sweat and his chest heaved as he fought to catch his breath. Taking him between your lips again, you sucked the head of his cock gently, drawing out his orgasm and humming anytime an aftershock made him flex in your mouth. Pressing one last kiss on the underside of his head, you stood up and smiled at him like the cat that ate the canary.

His eyes slowly opened a moment later, head tilting down to kiss you full on the mouth as he stepped out of his pants, and picked you up. Your legs instinctively wrapped around him as he carried you into your bedroom and carefully laid you on the bed. He kneeled on the floor in front of you, pulling down your panties and moving to settle between your thighs. With a smirk flashed up at you, he dipped his head and licked you with the flat of his tongue, sending a flurry of tickles from your center to your nipples.

You arched your back, eyes closing as you used your heel against the back of his shoulder as leverage to pull him closer. His tongue narrowed to a soft point as he began to draw indistinct patterns over your labia, sending more gentle bolts of electricity through your sex. A sharp gasp passed through your lips as he suckled your labia, his tongue gliding between them a few times before it dipped closer to your entrance.

“Jim,” you whimpered in a shudder as he traced your opening.

Pressing his face closer, he dipped his tongue inside you, getting a proper taste of your pussy. Needing more, your legs moved to plant your feet on the bed, widening your knees as you rolled your hips against him. Of everyone you had ever been with, Jim was the only one who made you feel worshiped when he used his mouth on you, leaving open-mouthed kisses over every inch of your sex, sucking every bit he could, and seeming to enjoy every minute of it. You had realized as much when one night, he had taken it upon himself to spend two hours straight playing with you with only his lips and tongue. Needless to say it had been the best two hours of your life.

“You taste so good,” he purred, finally moving up to tickle your clit with his mustache before he flicked his tongue over it. After a moment, he pulled the bud between his lips and suckled, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you down against him. One of his hands left a few moments before his finger pressed against your opening, slowly sinking until he was buried deep inside you. Beginning a slow in and out pace, his free hand slid up your stomach until he reached your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between two fingers.

You moaned deeply, body squirming beneath his touch, arching your back and rocking your hips alternately. One leg draped over his shoulder again, your heel pulling him against you as he added a second finger and switched breasts. You gasped when he nipped gently on your clit and fisted the comforter beneath you, chasing the orgasm you could feel brewing just beneath the surface. The hand on your breasts slid down to press on your lower belly while the fingers inside you curled, reaching the spongy tissue on your upper wall.

“Fuck! Jim, right there! Don’t stop!” you cried, arching your back again as the tingles between your legs reached a fever pitch. Your hips lifted off the bed, trying to get closer to him as the coil inside you tightened even more. You were right… there…

A moan caught in your throat, your mouth open in a silent cry as your muscles gripped his long fingers and your orgasm spread through you like a warm glow. You held your breath, hoping that doing so would make it last just a little longer and your hips bucked wildly against his lips and tongue. Toes curling and flexing, your body slowly settled into tremors as your moans gradually softened into deep, long sighs.

Pulling out his fingers, he flattened his tongue again and licked your seam, dropping kisses and licks on your skin as he leisurely made his way up your body. His belly grazed against your pussy, sending another flurry of tingles through you as his lips pressed against yours. His half-hard cock was pressed against the underside of your ass with just enough pressure to let you know he was there.

Kisses lowering to your neck, he held you close, bringing his lips to your ear to whisper, “You look so beautiful when you lose control like that.”

Wrapping your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders, you held him close as you came down from your orgasm. His mustache scratched lightly against your neck as he kissed the column of your throat.

“You are really good at eating pussy, Jim Gordon,” you said, biting your bottom lip when he chuckled against your skin.

“Think we’ve got time for a shower?” he asked, grazing your cheek with his nose affectionately.

Nodding with a smile, you lifted your head to capture his lips once more, humming contently. Rolling off of you, he pulled you up off the bed, the two of you making your way into the bathroom, where he turned on the water.

He followed you into the shower and the two of you took turns wetting your hair, when you turned to him, a smirk still firmly planted on your face as you said, “Looks like I win this time, Gordon.”

He knitted his brows. “I would call that a draw.”

You shook your head. “No way, you stopped working first, fair is fair.”

He rolled his eyes. “How about a compromise?”

You arched a brow in interest. “I’m listening.”

“I’ll cook, you clean up.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. “Fine. You’ve got yourself a deal.” Reaching for the shampoo, you began to wash your hair before you washed Jim’s. “And then maybe later we can snuggle up and watch a movie?”

“Probably much later,” he answered, rinsing his hair after you’d rinsed yours. “I fully intend to ravage you again after we eat. And again, and again, and then maybe one last time. Then you can clean up the kitchen.”

You grinned, closing the space between you to kiss his lips. “Yes, sir, Sergeant Gordon.”

[asteria7fics]

Could you share some EWILY Cartman headcanons with the class? 👀

HAPPILY!! ( • ̀ω•́ )✧

My usual housekeeping: There WILL be spoilers for EWILY through chapter 11. If you haven’t caught up yet, then go read that first! (It’s a lot I’m so sorry)

Also, I’m going to include a few NSFW headcanons here… because I want to. They will be clearly marked though!

Without further ado, some of my Cartman headcanons!

Alright, first and foremost let’s get some of the basics out of the way. When I set out to write EWILY, I had a really specific image of what I wanted Eric to be like. He was actually the first character design I started drafting… while waiting at the hospital for my niece to be born ahaha.

Like, he had to be a bit of a neckbeard, Discord Mod loser. I’m sorry, I simply cannot imagine teenage dirtbag Eric being any other way.

So obviously I've posted the actual illustrations of all the boys, but Eric's appearance was one I was actually pretty nervous about. I don't see a ton of depictions of him having the longest hair, or being a bit scruffy looking in general. Though I agree that he probably does actually have decent hygiene habits typically, he's... Going through it in EWILY.

I also couldn’t imagine him being popular, because despite him honestly being pretty charismatic he’s still a despicable asshole and everyone in town is so used to his bullshit by this point that they’ve all but given up any hope that he’ll ever improve as a human being. His charms have become obvious manipulation by the time EWILY begins.

There is an actual story behind why the main 5 are no longer cool with him (for the most part), as is briefly referenced in chapter 7 before all hell broke loose, but that’s a story for another day.

Unfortunately, I also felt that Eric had to be smart. Is he taking all the same classes as Kyle just to fucking harass him? A little bit, though he would say it’s to ‘keep an eye on that conniving Jew’, but I think it’s pretty clear that he is actually a pretty smart and creative kid, he just doesn’t typically apply himself. Without friends to get into trouble with though, what else is he supposed to do?

I should also probably address the… antisemitism. I mean, it’s literally canon, as is him being a racist piece of shit, among other things. Look, I think there’s a time and a place to sanitize Eric’s character at least a little bit, but doing too much loses a quintessential piece of what makes him tick. I’m not gonna go into what makes people embrace bigotry, but suffice to say I personally believe a lot of his comes from ignorance and fear, especially the latter as he gets older.

On the flip side of that, I thought it would be super funny to give Eric a major fetish for Asian women! Partially inspired by my own love of k-pop, and partially from some comments Trey has made about his own… preferences, at least ones he had when he was younger. I actually pull a lot of inspiration for all of the boys from Those Bastards, despite my better judgement. It does have the nice effect of making them feel more real, though!

It also gave me the opportunity to make a very funny joke about his favorite member of a particular k-pop girl group, who has been majorly blasted online for wearing a shirt with a swastika on it… look, I saw my opportunity and I took it. The kids who got it, got it lmao.

I suppose this is a good opportunity to transition into some NSFW headcanons. This is your warning! I’ll mark the end of the NSFW stuff so you can skip it if you’d prefer!

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

Despite being pretty outwardly homophobic towards his friends, Eric is not straight lmao. He sure wants to THINK he is, but he’s bisexual at LEAST with a slightly stronger leaning towards women.

Initially, Eric is very confident that he needs to be the dominant one in the relationship. He would prefer women that seem submissive (hence the super racist Asian fetish, oof king just cannot be normal) and can be pretty easily manipulated, which is! Objectively gross! Bad Eric!!

Being one of the most sexual kids in the show (yes I do have a mental ranking), my brother is fucking nasty. Definitely was the one that got Stan mildly addicted to porn for a hot minute there (a headcanon I never explore but definitely need to), has a massive and extensive collection of pornography on his computer, on top of frequenting OnlyFans.

Eventually though, when he finally gets to actually feel the touch of another human being he gets over that need to be on top, literally and metaphorically. He relinquishes control VERY slowly, but eventually with a LOT of trust lets his partner have more power in the bedroom.

Also, his gf eventually definitely pegs him. Try and tell me I’m wrong. Do they get even nastier? Absolutely, but I’ll leave the rest up to your imagination. (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

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

ANYWAY! Back to the normal stuff. (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

Speaking of his girlfriend, I know it's not popular but I adore loverboy Eric. The idea of him fighting so hard to be a good person just to maintain an important relationship is *chef's kiss*

Now I won't formally diagnose Eric with anything, but he definitely has some... Antisocial tendencies. We see him visit a therapist a couple of times in canon, and I think he would keep that up until about the time his friends ditch him. Entering his social recluse era oof. He definitely stops seeing the point in improving himself when people are going to abandon him anyway.

So of course, he's still not a very good partner. I would get into his relationship with Yen more but, like with all the relationships in EWILY it's... Complicated.

Alright, I’m gonna do some quick-fire headcanons to get the rest of my thoughts out ahaha

Is the shortest of the main 5 - yes, even shorter than Kenny, but only by a couple of inches. This wasn’t always the case though, and was actually the tallest when they were kids. (TSOB era)

He and Butters have the smallest wieners. RIP sorry loser it’s canon.

Never really got over his little crush on Wendy. Funny how he’s still into girls with dark hair… (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

Desperately wants another cat, but Liane has really only put her foot down about this one thing after what happened to Mr. Kitty. Sorry, I had to remind you.

Definitely still packs heat, but doesn’t get away with bringing it to school.

Hardcore schemer still and does all kinds of questionable shit to make money. You know, instead of just getting a normal job.

Wears those super long cargo shorts year-round. Claims he ‘doesn’t feel cold’ but definitely does.

Met Yen in a random Discord server, one he became pretty popular in. Still has lots of online friends that only really know the persona he puts on for them.

Man, what else is there...

I suppose this is a good place to drop some of the other things I've put together for him! You can look at his Pinterest board here, and his Spotify playlist here!

Okay, I seriously need to stop you guys, but I could talk about Cartman all day. Literally my son oh my god he’s so silly!!! I hope this was a sufficient answer for you, dear anon! I’m always happy to share my thoughts and feelings about these dudes!!

Thank you for the ask!! (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

[ivory--raven]

day 28, made you smile. we've all seen the scene. we've all seen the looks.

Michael senses it with every aspect of her being. War against Hell has been declared.

Why? They’re not having an Armageddon. That was cancelled four years ago and she’s grown quite used to her existence as it is. It’s rather annoying, really, for it to be such a surprise. Work is satisfying, Jeanne is amazing and for once safe, Dagon has her utterly captivated. She isn’t ready for a war. She hasn’t had time to make plans, to prepare, she hasn’t had the troops training in four years.

Still, they are technically four years overdue for a war, and she does enjoy smiting demons. This will be her excuse.

She and Uriel meet Saraqael, the excitable scrivener Muriel, and someone else at the lift. The other being looks familiar, they are… Crowley. A demon. What’s he doing here?

Unauthorized war on Hell and a demon in Heaven. Had he caused it?

“Funny old world, isn’t it?” he says as they descend and his outfit changes to the black she associates with demons.

They emerge outside the embassy in London, Aziraphale’s bookshop. A ramp appears for Saraqael and they all follow Crowley inside. There is a stunned demon on the sofa. 

“What did you do to them all?” asks Crowley.

Aziraphale clears his throat. “I did the thing with the halo.”

Oh no. That’s as official as it gets.

“You what?” asks Crowley, as if he can’t believe it either.

“I did the thing with the halo,” repeats Aziraphale.

“You blew up your halo? Hell won’t like that!” laughs Crowley.

No. No, they won’t. They’ll understand it as the war declaration it is.

They appear, then. Some demon whose face she doesn’t know and Dagon. Dagon who seems extremely pleased, strutting towards the center of the room. There’s a glint of fire and fight in her eyes. Her shoulders. Her hips.

Beelzebub appears in a flash of fire. Michael hardly notices.

“We are at war!” says Dagon through her smile. “Finally!”

“Nobody’s at war,” says Crowley. “You idiots sent an idiot to lead a gang of idiots to attack a bookshop. Those idiots there want their Archangel back so they can fire him.”

Michael does not like to be called an idiot but she is far too distracted by Dagon turning and hissing at her. She shakes her head. Her ridiculous demon. She’s far too attractive in her uniform, which she appears to be wearing over… not much, her top is sheer. It’s not fair.

Dagon chokes. Good. Michael likes to have that effect on her.

Beelzebub wakes up the demon from the sofa. “Nice job, Shax. Beautifully done. Remind me to put in for your commendation.”

“Sarcasm, yes?” Shax looks to Crowley.

“I’m afraid so,” confirms Beelzebub. If demons are going to be teaching each other the art of sarcasm, they can do it in Hell!

“If it is to be war,” Michael starts, looking at Dagon, before Crowley interrupts.

“No, no, no, no, no war,” says Crowley. 

Dagon purses her lips, shimmies a bit with her hand on her hip. Ridiculous, enchanting demon. Michael would smite her all right, but not in the usual way. Take her away right now.

Crowley is saying something about Gabriel, Aziraphale brings out a cardboard box. Dagon leans forward, holding her arms in front of the two demons on either side of her. “Careful. Could be a trap.” She’s protective. She’s sweet. She’s actually afraid of the cardboard box. Michael understands. Aziraphale and Crowley are known traitors with suspicious powers. Michael knows how worried she was when it turned out Crowley was undestroyable.

“It’s a cardboard box, it’s not going to bite you,” says Saraqael.

Dagon moves back anyway when Aziraphale dumps some old things out of the box. Michael doesn’t blame her.

There’s writing on the box, a fly - Michael can guess where this is going. It’s him, the assistant bookseller, it’s Gabriel, and Beelzebub is so tender with him. “Good boy,” they say, “no wonder nobody could find you. This is where you were keeping all your memories. All your you. Look at you, you’re perfect.” They offer it to Gabriel - to Gabriel’s body, at least. “Here. Take it. Gently.” They’re smiling at him.

It goes in his eye, then, and he straightens - he remembers. Gabriel. 

He smiles his professional smile. He laughs. “Michael, Uriel?” He forgets Saraqael’s name, which Michael can tell annoys them. Dagon makes an unpleasant face at him. Michael loves her for it. “Oh, eesh. You guys,” he says. “You,” he says when he finally turns to Beelzebub, and it’s like he’s immediately soothed. He remembers them, then. Good. They’d been distraught. If he’d remembered everything but them, there would’ve been a problem.

And he has been happier since he started seeing them. Annoying he may be, but he is something to her, and Michael wants that happiness for him.

“Silly, silly angel,” says Beelzebub, far too affectionately to be hiding anything. “Why?”

“I was coming to you, but I… forgot,” says Gabriel. Behind Beelzebub, Dagon meets Michael’s eyes.

The demon next to Dagon, Shax, calls Beelzebub a traitor. “Collaborating with Heaven,” she accuses them of.

It’s so risky, what they’re doing. They have to pull this off.

“I just found something that mattered more to me than choosing sides,” says Beelzebub. Dagon gags.

Someone says something and it’s a mortal. There are mortals here? “Someone turn them into salt,” says Michael. The security risk! Saraqael raises a hand but Crowley interrupts and ushers the two mortals out. He’d better be going to dispose of them outside. 

“Fancy liking an angel,” Dagon says, shuddering. She sounds convincing. It isn’t real. It isn’t real. It’s for the benefit of everyone who can’t know, for privacy and safety. Shax has something loud and annoying to say to Michael, the demon Michael doesn’t know has a complaint for Michael. They want Beelzebub back, is the gist of it.

“They probably did something to Gabriel,” says Uriel. “Corrupted him.” Saraqael agrees.

Dagon points at Michael. “You Archangels,” she says. “You Archangels.”

Michael smirks. She’s right, and she can say it, as long as she doesn’t clarify. Michael cups her hand by her ear. “I can’t hear you.”

Aziraphale rings an annoying loud bell - Michael instinctively raises her arms to cover her head, but it’s only him, it’s only Aziraphale. “I’ve had quite enough of this!” he snaps. Michael has had quite enough of being here. If there is no war, the only crisis is Gabriel and Beelzebub, which wouldn’t be a crisis at all if it wasn’t so public. Michael would like to go home.

“You will speak one at a time,” demands Aziraphale.

Shax asks for Gabriel and Beelzebub to be handed over to Satan. “He won’t want them,” says Dagon. “Maybe as hors d'oeuvres.”

“And I demand you hand them over to us, to face celestial punishment,” says Michael. Someone had make the counteroffer, after all. 

“Obviously we would be reserving the option to send them both to Hell as our punishment,” adds Saraqael. “But we’d be the ones doing it.”

Aziraphale offers Gabriel and Beelzebub the choice, and of course they choose to leave together than stay and be punished. They don’t want to be destroyed, and that is very much still on the table. 

Crowley suggests Alpha Centauri.

“If you leave, you can never come back,” Uriel tells Gabriel.

“That would be the point,” he says. He seems fine. Perhaps with him officially gone, Michael can have his job. Heaven will need a new Supreme Archangel. And with Beelzebub gone, well, there is a natural choice for a successor.

Beelzebub suggests Shax might have their job. Dagon glares at the back of Shax’s head, shifting like she might be about to get out a weapon and stab Shax in the back.

Michael interrupts before that can happen. If Dagon is going to be rid of Shax, it won’t be now, in front of Aziraphale and Uriel and Saraqael and the demon she still doesn’t know. “Angels and demons, they can’t just-”

Gabriel and Beelzebub start singing that song Gabriel had been humming before, and disappear. Off to Alpha Centauri - or, if Michael knows Gabriel, a tailor.

“I believe the Dark Council might have something to say about all this nonsense,” says Dagon, who must know full well they do since she’s on it. The demon Michael doesn’t know whispers something to Shax, and all three vanish back to Hell.

“I am authorized to remove the name of anyone who helped Gabriel from the Book of Life,” says Michael. She’s never actually seen the Book, but Aziraphale doesn’t know that and she’ll figure something out. She’ll get it from The Metatron. “You will never have existed, Aziraphale. In the absence of Gabriel, I am the Supreme Archangel-”

“Duty officer,” says Uriel.

Michael does not care. “And I-”

“Excuse me, sorry, I must interrupt you there,” says someone who has just walked in. Michael stares, open mouthed. Walked in. Interrupted her. Michael. Supreme Archangel.

“I don’t believe I asked for any interruptions.”

“I couldn’t help it,” says the person. “You’re talking utter balderdash. I mean, complete piffle! You don’t have the authority to do anything like that!”

Michael has never been so insulted in her entire existence.

“And who are you?” she says, a moment away from smiting them no matter the response.

“For Heaven’s sake! And I mean that most literally. You don’t know me?” he asks. “What about you, demon, do you know me?”

“Get him out of here!” insists Michael. Or she will kill him.

It’s The Metatron. It’s The fucking Metatron. He dismisses them back to Heaven like naughty children. 

Uriel and Michael exchange glances and Uriel bows. “Your Reverence, your - your Grace, your…”

“Spit it out,” he says.

“Have we done anything wrong?” asks Uriel. It’s the question both of them have, probably Saraqael too. 

“That remains to be seen,” he says, which is very alarming. All three Archangels return to Heaven together.

“I’m going to my office,” says Michael as soon as they arrive. Uriel nods and turns on their heel, off to their own. Saraqael doesn’t even have a sarcastic comment - they must be shaken.

Of course Michael doesn’t go to her office. She goes to the house, with Jeanne, who is watching a film on the new television they’ve installed, where Dagon is waiting for her.

Dagon.

“Michael,” she breathes, and embraces her.

[dolphin1812]

I love the return to shoes as a marker of class here! While Marius faced the issue of clean vs dusty shoes (making it difficult for him to go to parties outside of winter, as it was impossible for him to walk without getting his shoes dirty and he couldn't afford a carriage), the Jondrettes - being worse off - are dealing with the issue of shoes vs no shoes. Interestingly, shoes are less comfortable here, not more. Mlle Jondrette's reasons are understandable, though. Wearing ill-fitting, wet shoes has to be uncomfortable. Her father, though, has a point about shoes as a marker of acceptability; just as Marius couldn't go to a party with dirty shoes for fear of rejection, the Jondrettes face the much graver issue of being tossed out of churches if they go barefoot. And based on the fact that the shoes are men's shoes, there's a good chance that M Jondrette is the only one with shoes and that the others just use them when necessary, suggesting that they can't all go to church at once. Since the church offered assistance to the poor, this is another challenge in coping with poverty: needing to look "respectable" to access help, but not being able to keep up that appearance in the first place because of that same problem.

The descriptions of how M Jondrette directs everyone to make the place look worse are probably meant to highlight how manipulative and cruel he is (and making his child cut herself on glass is definitely awful), but it also returns us to the theme of performance. Crime is performative for Patron Minette, but poverty is similar in some ways here. I don't think we're meant to find the Jondrettes that sympathetic, but they genuinely are experiencing hardship, and yet they need to make sure their situation looks as bad as possible (while still being "respectable") to have a shot at assistance. Since they can't rely on consistent help, they have to perform suffering, even though they already are suffering. Worse still, this performance directly makes their lives harder. In addition to the psychological aspect (it's exhausting), it means sacrificing the few comforts they have, like a fire, in case that makes their guest think they're lying about how poor they are. And right before, Mlle Jondrette had to play the part of a slightly more "respectable" poor person just to have a chance at asking for help. Their situation demands that they play various roles to access charity, and they need that charity because there's no broader support system that they can count on. Hugo may intend their theatricality to indicate their criminality, but it's really a symptom of the lack of reliable aid with trust on both sides (which is also a side effect of the system creating this level of poverty in the first place).

On a less serious note, M Jondrette's silencing of his wife is awful, but the way he says it is kind of funny?

"“Peace!” replied the father, “I suppress the liberty of the press.”"

I can't tell if this is just using politics as a metaphor for family and vice versa (the husband is a tyrant because he opposes "the liberty of the press," meaning, the right of the others to criticize him; by extension, authoritarian governments resemble this family) or if 19th-century France was so steeped in these kinds of political discussions that someone would actually say that (or both!). Either way, it's both horrible and kind of humorous.

Spoilers below:

Seeing Valjean's hesitance over heading back to the Gorbeau House, then deciding to do it anyway, hurts so much. He might have worried that the old portress was still there - meaning that he would risk arrest by going - but he went regardless because he felt that he had to help people in need. And knowing that those people are the Thénardiers makes it worse still, because M Thénardier is cruel and manipulative and is definitely going to want revenge for that time he was outsmarted.

Knowing who they are, it's sad to see the hints at their previous life, especially with Mme Thénardier. Seeing how much Éponine and Azelma are suffering hurts in that they're children, but we didn't know as much about their personalities before for the same reason. With Mme Thénardier, we can more clearly see her loss of hope. The romances found around the room gesture to her favorite pastime, but her hope for a lower-case-r romantic experience is gone; she no longer loves her husband, even though her love for him and her daughters was one of her defining traits when we met her (this is all from the last chapter). She does seem to still love her daughters, as demonstrated by her anger on Azelma's behalf when she's made to break the glass and gets hurt, but years of obedience to M Thénardier and the exhaustion of poverty have worn her down in a way that's difficult to read about. She's hard to fully sympathize with because she's awful - she abused Cosette and abandoned her son - but she also lost her dream, and that's tragic.