#why its time to get off my own butt and write a book

[janitorhutcherson]

i'm totally NOT touch starved so IM TOTALLY NOT asking for peeta mellark and touch starved reader... totally NOT. (i love your writing sm ☺️)

i am FINALLY giving the people what they want!! i know this isn't a whole fic/imagine but instead headcanons, BUT! it is finally peeta. i promise there will be more peeta content in the future. im working my way through the movies again and im about to reread the books, i want to be accurate about his portrayal so y'all feel like its more realistic, but here is a lil taste of what is to come! i rly hope you enjoy <3 btw!! this takes place after EVERYTHING in the books. ur basically katiness.

• Peeta is a huge softy, he's cuddly, loving, affectionate, and definitely touch starved himself. He's the type of guy to mostly have his own contact with you in some way. Sometimes he will grip onto your arm, he'll have his arm around your shoulder or your waist, or even just grip onto your shirt. When you're sitting on the couch, he opts to sit hip to hip even when the entirety of the couch is empty. When you're not cuddling in bed, you're facing opposite sides, sleeping butt-to-butt. Even with that being said, sometimes Peeta needed some space, his own bubble. You, however, did not love that.

• This is exactly why it was somewhat difficult for Peeta to understand touchstarved!reader. Regardless of how close you were, you needed more. Anytime you're walking in the district, rather it's to pick up some ingredients for the bakery or simply a leisurely walk, if he opted not to hold on to you in some way, you'd freak a little. You'd grip onto his hand, either squeezing it in yours or holding onto his larger fingers.

• Whenever dishes were being done or chores were tended to, you would wrap your arms around his waist from behind or follow him at the heel. You were desperate for his attention, his affection, his touch. Without it, you felt cold and disconnected. His touch pleased the ache that prickled against your skin from years of desperately wanting to be held.

• At night, you'd squeeze up under his arm. Your head would be tucked into his armpit, your arms wrapped around him as you tugged him close, closing your eyes and taking in his smell. When you'd fall asleep facing away from each other, Peeta wouldn't even notice you flip over to face him once he was fast asleep, curling up against him, squeezing him tightly like your life depended on it.

• In all honesty? It felt like your life did depend on it. You were a tribute alongside with Peeta, you'd both been through hell and back together. You had nightmares and he was the only one that could ground them. Part of your touch starved desperation came from the times you were alone, afraid, for yourself, for your lover. It was difficult.

• A lot of nights Peeta would ensure he'd hold you close, all too aware that he was the cure to your nightly insanity. This made you feel better, softer, warmer. On days when you were simply cuddling in bed together, you felt like you couldn't get enough. Your legs would be tangled with his, your foreheads touching, arms wrapped around one another. But nothing felt good enough. In instances like these, you would climb into his shirt, sticking your head through the hole for his own head, one that was stretched out from the many times you'd done this, one he specifically designated as his lounge shirt for this reason. Other times you would both strip your clothes off, cuddling skin to skin while Peeta would stroke your hair, pressing soft kisses to your forehead.

• All in all, Peeta is a gentle and caring lover, understanding of your needs. He'd do his best to meet them, even when it meant staying glued to your hip. He loved you, the history you two had, the stuff you'd been through, and he'd do anything to ensure your happiness and your safety. After all, you were who saved him, who kept him grounded as well, the love of his life... but, his thoughts are for another story.

[b0ther]

LOSER LOSER LOSER !!! YUUTA

it's your typical story: the bully and the loser. you don't mind, though. not when yuuta's taking you in this good.

pairing : okkotsu yuuta x reader (masculine pronouns. amab) rating : explicit, not safe for work (sexual content) type : headcanon & short drabble(s) hehe tags : reader is your typical BULLY and yuuta is your typical LOSER who gets BULLIED, depiction of violence (please be mindful of the tags), high school AU, yuuta gets off from the bullying, reader has a giant cock as per usual, yuuta displays some obsessive behaviours, usage of the words "slut" and "baby" and "whore" and "idiot", dry humping, blowjobs, spitting, anal sex, slight dub-con word count : 1,962

author's note : all my kings who believe in sub yuuta supremacy. . . this one's for you. also i wrote this half asleep. sawry. will def write more for this prompt in the future. love u ol ��

( masterlist │ ask/request │ ao3 )

♡ you have never really paid much attention to LOSER!YUUTA, of course. why would you? you have shinier friends and your reputation allows you to trample on people in his class. you don't need him—you don't need to know him.

♡ oh, but LOSER!YUUTA? he pays attention to you. he pays attention hard. he watches your strides, heading to the cafeteria or the bathroom or out the school gates. he breathes in the air every time he gets the chance to indulge himself from being close to you. his cock throbs every time you just so much as elbow his shoulder in malice. 

♡ LOSER!YUUTA is such a nice boy—he crosses his heart and swears to himself that he doesn't enjoy seeing his peers getting their heads slammed onto the chalk walls along the hallway by your sturdy hands. in fact, he hates it so much that he would rather you kick his stomach and press your cigarette butts on his cheeks. the sacrifices he would make for his classmates are immeasurable.

♡ and soon enough, one of your friends would start pointing out how LOSER!YUUTA peeks at your direction constantly behind his book. his small and slender frame as if nonexistence between whatever the hell he is reading. you shake your head, laughing. "you can't name anyone in this school who doesn't want a taste of my dick," you wave your friends off, "especially not some fuckin' loser like him."

♡ you forgot about LOSER!YUUTA for a hot moment—ransacking school bags to find cash you can claim on your own; stepping on the feet of anyone who dares to tell you no. when everyone looks away, you find one pair of eyes occasionally stealing glances your way.

♡ curiosity, as curiosity does, eventually finds itself making its way to you. you love the attention, and when there is the opportunity to fuck something, what proper response are there but to chase it?

“Arent’cha curious of me?” You ask, backing him up against the wall.

Yuuta shakes as you tower over him, eyes darting back and forth between your face and the door that you won’t allow him to leave. 

“Hey,” annoyed, you grab his jaw after taking a deep breath of the smoke between your fingers, forcing him to look at you. “Look at me when I’m talking to you.”

“Sorry,” he stutters out, almost as quick as the moment your sentence ended.

You scoff—Yuuta feels your hot breath on his skin. It smells like cigarettes, but mostly, it’s his first whiff of you. His eyes turn wide at his body’s awful timing of letting his cock go rock hard.

He prays that you won’t notice his cock practically peeking from underneath his pants. You never noticed his hard on, after all. But that day, in the cramped janitor’s closet, you are given no choice but to notice. Especially with his little grunt, clearing his throat like he’s slick.

“See,” you let go of his face, shoving his head against the wall. “I got you this hard, and what did I do?” You rub your leg against his crotch, intrigued at how his face crinkle in sudden pleasure. You killed the cigarette on the wall next to his head—Yuuta can hear it die, and he can almost feel the heat too.

He whimpers.

“Oh, quit being so whiny.” Your hand reached over to palm his ass, still rubbing your knee up and down his clothed length. “You like me this much? Show me.”

♡ LOSER!YUUTA is not proud that he came all over his uniform pants just by rutting his cock on your thigh. well, maybe he is. no matter how he feels about it, he manages to pique your interest and make you come back to him for more.

♡ you don’t pretend to hide it. you’d pull him over in the middle of a crowded hallway, arms snaking around his waist where the whole school can see. words begin to spread, but you don’t care. neither does LOSER!YUUTA.

♡ LOSER!YUUTA would have to work for your cock, though. you aren’t letting him get to you that easy. besides, it’s fun getting him to jack himself off under the showers as you watch him squirm like the pathetic slut that he is.

♡ you’d take him right then and there—the more you do this, the harder it becomes to resist him—but you control yourself. there’s gotta be someone on their right mind in this exchange, and with all his good grades and straight a’s, LOSER!YUUTA is definitely too dumb when it comes to you.

♡ it’s a surprise when LOSER!YUUTA lets you into his room for the first time. it was just how you expected his room to be—simple, plain, boring.

♡ “my parents aren’t home,” he says as he fiddles with the hem of his uniform, not daring to look you in the eyes.

♡ LOSER!YUUTA, eyes wide when you instructed him to suck you off. you snicker at his stupid expression, and nodded at your crotch as you sat on his bed. “go on, i’m not gonna cum on my own.”

♡ but he is so eager to please you. so so excited. he sits between your thighs and marvels at the size of your cock compared to his face. you do not disappoint.

♡ “aren’t you gonna suck it?”

♡ LOSER!YUUTA is so good at sucking you off. you should have made him give you a blowjob earlier. he is gentle at first, kissing the tips of your cock, slobbering up the rest of your length for his taking, before eventually using his hot throat to welcome you in.

You don’t even know where the fuck he learnt how to give a blowjob this good—who the fuck wants to get blown by a loser like Okkotsu Yuuta?

For some ungodly reason, he lets you in his room. And for some ungodly, too, he lets you place a pillow between your head and the wall as he sucks you off like he spends his days practising his jaws to accommodate your length.

He’s probably expected you to come on him like this, huh?

Both of his hands are squeezing the base of your cock, continuously pumping, and his pretty lips wrap themselves nicely around your tip. You watch the top of his head between your spreaded thighs as he drags the top of your dick in and out of his wet mouth.

“Yuuta,” you groan, gathering the strands of his hair with your fingers. All that you can hear is the sound of his chokes—at your call, he looks up at you under his long lashes, his cheeks hollow as he continues his slobbering mess. “Fuck,” you breathe, tugging on his hair tighter, “aren’t you pretty like this?”

His already flushed cheeks became redder—there is a sense of pride blossoming in his chest. You complimented him. Yuuta’s vision blurs as he becomes more dizzy—he just wants to make you feel good. 

♡ you wouldn’t have guessed that if LOSER!YUUTA was to have a hobby, it was to suck you off.

♡ LOSER!YUUTA would never initiate anything first, of course. but a slut like him just needs a push—he’d beat your meat anywhere you want. the school rooftop, the karaoke room you took him to once. under a restaurant desk or in a hidden library corner.

♡ the vulnerability of it all turns LOSER!YUUTA on. and his neediness, his little whimpers and cries—he turns you on.

♡ you wonder how you never notice LOSER!YUUTA in his gym clothes: shorts and a shirt that is a little too tight for his body frame. he is full of sweat whenever he has to run the mile or throw some sort of lame spike across the volley net.

♡ eventually you find yourself fucking him.

♡ tight, tight hole. tightest hole you ever seen. you had to breathe to stop yourself from cumming when you first tried out his hole.

♡ you fuck him in the shower room, you fuck him in the gym storage, you fuck him on the teacher’s table on an empty classroom. he’s always bent over somewhere: ass up for you to take, and dick hard for you to jack off and leave him on the edge.

“Don’t— Don’t stop—” he begs, prettily. You’ve grown a soft spot for him by now. His moans titter like melodies, echoing in the empty classroom as you dick him down—you press both his hands on his back as you drill yourself harder into him.

“Giving me instructions now?” You grunt, and Yuuta whines. A chuckle escapes your lips as you raise your hand to give his full ass a hard slap. "Shut up and just take my cock."

♡ LOSER!YUUTA just wants you to kiss him.

♡ he reaches his arms around your neck whenever you press his knees over his chest, pulling you in.

♡ “no, no,” you chuckle, grabbing his jaw. “you don’t get to fucking kiss me, alright? i don’t kiss whores like you.”

♡ and LOSER!YUUTA knows how weak you are to his little whines. he claws at your chest, caresses the side of your face—”please,” he sobs, “kiss me, kiss— nghh—” your cock gets him so drunk that he can’t even finish a coherent sentence—he can’t even beg.

♡ his eyes roll back, nails digging into the blades of your shoulders. “i can’t, i can’t—”

“You can’t what?”

His little hole feels like it’s scraping your dick every time you pull out and slam yourself back in. He’s so wet, so messy, so tight, just for your cock and even after fucking into his asshole this many times, you wonder how he can still be so fucking tight.

“You’re t’big,” Yuuta closes his eyes, hand blindly grasping for your neck, desperate for something to hold on to. “I can’t—”

“Aww,” you coo, faking empathy as you grab his face. “Sure you can take it. You’ve done this a million times.”

Yuuta lets one of his eyelids fly open, and he is greeted with your lips, lazily grinning down at him.

“It hurts,” he cries softly, knees becoming sore as you continue to bend it over his torso. His dick aches at your lack of attention to it, oozing precum all over his uniform and on the floor where you were fucking him. “Fu– fuck. Please, please.”

You watch the way his hair sticks against his forehead with his sweat, cheeks billowed and chest heaving. He just doesn’t know the things he does to you.

“Little slut can’t take it?” You manage to keep your voice steady, as if you aren’t close to fucking his brains out. “Want me to kiss it better?”

As if he has his ears perking at your preposition, he shoots both his eyes open. Excitement flashes through his pupils, and between his grunts, he manages to ask, “Can… can you—?”

You laugh, “Of course not, idiot.” You let go of his face and stand on your knees, ready to pummelled into him even harder. “Here,” you lean down at his sweaty face, kissing the skin under his eye before spitting on his face, “You can have a taste.”

Yuuta squirms. You use the back of your hand to wipe the spit off your mouth and laugh again when you see Yuuta with his mouth open, tongue hanging out.

“God. Want me to spit in your mouth this time?”

Yuuta nods, wrapping his leg around your body as best as he can, and weakly tugs for you to lean down. Every taste of you is divine—he wants everything you offer him, and he wants so much more.

“You’re so hot, baby,” You rub his face. “Beg for my spit. Use your words. You can do it, right?”

[physalian]

Incorporating weather elements into your narrative

*Picture me in shock over 11 new followers in 6 days after a 3 week dry spell: Thanks everybody!

Short this time! Weather and climate as worldbuilding are kind of like adverbs. Adverbs, as a concept, are not book kryptonite (despite what all the people screaming about how using better verbs is always the answer want you to believe). Adverbs should just be used with intent and not be redundant, which I’ve said before.

Basically, why use an adverb that doesn’t actually tell us any helpful information about the verb that the reader can’t already presume? “She smiled happily,” well, yeah, as you do. “She smiled sorrowfully,” okay, now that’s an expression I can work with. Why is she smiling sorrowfully? Why does she think she must smile through her sadness? Clearly it’s failing, otherwise the narrator wouldn’t note that the smile is sorrowful at all.

There’s a reason “talking about the weather” is the butt of the joke. It’s generally seen as boring and inconsequential to either party and used to just fill otherwise awkward silence. A quick sentence for sensory details is great. Repeat details that don’t dig into those sensory elements are not.

Your weather is no different. Why are you describing it if it serves no purpose to the scene? Everyone’s default unobtrusive day is different, but unless stated otherwise, people are going to assume it’s either day or night with mildly clear skies and tolerable heat and humidity. Talking at length about average weather that doesn’t impact your character’s emotions or choices, or the tone of the narrative, is a waste of effort in my opinion.

As in, describing the perfect day while a charcater is stuck in an office and unable to enjoy it? Yes. A character getting groceries and it's 72 and sunny and look at all the boring shapes of the clouds and planes flying over head while I get zero input on how the character feels about any of it or why this detail matters? Fluff and filler.

If your book is chock full of poetic fluff, go ham, everybody's ideal narrative is different. I like mine lean, otherwise I get bored by all the fluff while I wait for the book to remember it has a plot.

Weather fits into one of those little buzzword bingo cards where, if the author is taking an aside to describe it, you know it’s going to be important later (or at least it should be important later if the author didn’t just forget about it). Weather tends to be used as foreshadowing and is used as metaphorical shorthand everywhere.

If I write about a character going off on a quest and I tell the reader that clouds are growing in the distance, there’s a 70/30 chance I’m not just talking about actual clouds, but the threat of the enemy, some sinister plot our plucky heroes are ignorant of. Stuff like:

A red sunrise

Black/grey stormclouds

The ambiguous “rain/storm” that’s coming

A chilly wind picks up

An oppressive heat wave settles over the land

Fictional weather is so entrenched in metaphor and allegory that no matter how cliché it gets, watching or reading a funeral scene where it’s not grey and rainy feels insincere and not somber enough for the tragedy unfolding. You can avoid this by having your characters hate that it’s not raining for their funeral, as if even God doesn’t mourn their dead friend and the rest of the world moves on uncaring.

Same vibe as Halloween decorations in broad daylight. Or Christmas decorations in the Florida 80 degree December. Fall without the changing colors of the leaves. The mood is completely wrong.

“It was a dark and stormy night” sets the reader up for something serious, perhaps mysterious and dramatic, not a cheesy Hallmark romance. Weather as tone is extremely helpful. Not describing it is better than picking the wrong weather for your scene, unless you're trying to be ironic. Weather is practically its own character, depending on how much it matters to your story.

Fantasy and abnormal weather should be treated like any other scene descriptor element. It’s not enough to just drop in a detail about how there’s a 20% chance of blood rain at noon. If this is meant to be metaphorical or foreshadowing, despite being “blood rain” maybe it’s not an ill omen. Maybe it’s a magical fertilizer and a farming boon that graces the land, you gotta clarify.

Personally I’d fixate on the blood rain and want to know much more about it, just as much as I’d want to know about the rest of the town. I don’t need you to explain why it exists, it can exist just for funsies without serving any plot purposes, but I definitely want some more detail about the blood rain, it sounds cool.

—

TLDR; Weather cannot be untethered from its metaphorical and tonal implications, it’s just too entrenched in fictional associations. With that said, if weather in your book isn’t important at all to the story, randomly describing the sunny day at length is like describing the grass of a random lawn—we all know what random grass looks like. Unless the state of the lawn matters, it’s fluff. If it doesn’t service the character’s arc, the themes of the story, the tone of the scene, or the plot in any way, it can be skipped beyond relaying to your readers on the time of day and some sensory details like if it’s hot or windy or humid.

[xiyouyanyi]

Welcome!

@ryin-silverfish here, also known as "That person who talks a lot about FSYY and fox spirits".

This is my little LMK AU sideblog, which started off as a bunch of disjointed background notes for my fanfics, but developed into its own gigantic thing over time.

I've said elsewhere that, despite LMK (and many other JTTW adjacent works) lifting certain tidbits wholesale from FSYY——like Nezha's backstory or the Golden Dragon Shears, neither the show nor the fanworks really go into the implications of a FSYY/JTTW combined universe.

(For one, Zhao Gongming's three sisters, the Sanxiao, showing up to kick Jin and Yin's butts for stealing and breaking their treasure would be very satisfying, and also hella badass.)

Well, be the change you want, they said. 

So here it is: Journey of the Gods, aka "LMK, but FSYY is also canon and an extremely influential historical event".

Inspired by @digitaldoeslmk 's By the Book AU.

What even is FSYY?

"Ancient China's bloodiest bureaucracy recruitment program, kickstarted by a king who simped too hard for the creator goddess of humanity and the fox girl she sent to end his dynasty."

"I'll write my own God-Demon novel, with blackjacks and fox hookers and no Buddhist allegories!" ——Xu Zhonglin/Lu Xixing/Li Yunxiang

Okay, jokes aside: Investiture of the Gods(Fengshen Yanyi) is the other big "God-Demon Novel" of the Ming dynasty, written after JTTW. It's about the toppling of the Shang dynasty and its tyrannical King Zhou by King Wu of Zhou——but with more Daoism, immortals and demons helping out both sides, and ten billion magical formations and treasures. 

At the end of the story, almost everyone who died in battle were deified and became the 365 gods of the Celestial Bureaucracy, thus "Investiture of the Gods". 

Here is a link to the only full English translation of FSYY, by Gui Zhizhong.

Here is my overview of FSYY's grand overarching conflict, a.k.a. "Why are all the Daoist immortals fighting?" 

Compared to JTTW, it's a lot more formulaic and suffers from a massive character count inflation problem, but also extremely influential in Chinese folk religion, to the point of some modern temples, like Qingyang Palace, basically worshiping characters from the novel! Like, the western equivalent would be a church worshiping Dante and Beatrice from the Divine Comedy.

(Similarly, it is to orthodox Daoism what the Divine Comedy is to medieval Christian theology, and should not be treated as actual religious scriptures.)

Okay, FSYY happened in the LMK universe. So What?

Well, first, it will really do wonders to fill up that eerily empty Celestial Realm we see in the Spider Queen special, and the Celestial Bureaucracy will no longer consist of a grand total of five people.

Secondly, it can solve some major show-not-tell problems and actually give legitimacy to the grievances of the LMK Brotherhood + Havoc in Heaven, as well as fleshing out the Celestial Realm.

Third, so many cool magical treasures.

Fourth, LBD gets an origin story, with a twist.

Fifth, I delight in quality angst and horror, and FSYY had some seriously messed-up stuff and implications.

Sixth, Celestial Bureaucracy office politics.

Seventh, Nezha kicking asses and winning fights like he should.

Eighth, crazy Xianxia shit, as you’d expect from the great-granddaddy of modern Xianxia genre.

Ninth, infodumps about Chinese mythos and history trivias.

Tenth, Underworld lore.

...As you can probably tell, this is mostly just me nerding out and writing walls of texts. I'm not a very good artist and can't do Lego style, but will probably doodle some symbol/character designs for funsies.

I also derive most of my enjoyment from writing fix-its and worldbuilding, not shipping characters. Like, I love exploring individual characters through relationships, but just ain't a fan of romance.

There will be a lot of OCs, but unless otherwise specified, all of them will be based on actual characters from FSYY and JTTW, with a few folk gods sprinkled in for funsies.

With that taken care of: good luck and happy reading!

[tubapun]

Ranking All the Insomniac Spider Suits by Ass Juiciness

Advanced Suit: 8/10. Decent lift and seperation, but he looks constantly tensed. Could bounce a dime off of him but not enough jiggle

Classic Suit: 8.5/10. About the same as the Advanced but less concave on the sides. You could rest your weary head on that ass

Noir Suit: 4/10. Theres some fat there but its like the kind of pillow that sinks your head directly back onto the bed, and it didnt even reach that high off of it to begin with. To be expected with pinstripe pants I guess.

Scarlet Spider: 10/10. Boob window but for ass. Thats a whole bouncy castle back there i tell yall what

Spider-Armor MK II Suit: 7/10. The racing stripes make it look saggy, which could be good but isnt in this case. still not bad, just not my cup of tea. ass. ass tea

Secret Wars Suit: 5/10. Not quite noir levels of flat but youd hurt your head if you laid back too fast. stop tensing man

Stark Suit: 9/10. Theres some heft there!! The fabric really defines the cheeks as well, its like a duplex

Negative Suit: 8/10. The inversion somehow adds more mass in some areas and removes it from others. Average butt, but still nice to see

Electrically Insulated Suit: 4.5/10. Too padded, you get the sense that theres less ass than it seems, especially because of how the rest of the body is bulked up

Spider-Punk: 5/10. Despite the origins of the word, this isnt gay enough. Jeans too tight, the ass is flattened and hard, if present

Wrestler Suit: 2/10. Considering sweats are known to accentuate ass and yet he ends up with the same shape as noir, this is really a bad showing from peter

Fear Itself Suit: 1/10. Chainmail sucks for ass. Flatter than my chest

Stealth "Big Time" Suit: 1/10. They must have fucked up the sliders on this row

Spider-Armor MK III Suit: WHY IS HE CONCAVE

Spider-Man 2099 Black Suit: 10/10 Miggy your ass has saved me this is like a broth compared to the kiln dried slab of oak that the last few have been

Iron Spider Suit: 6/10. Maybe its the whiplash but this just isnt doing it. Its an average ass, but nothing to write home about

Velocity Suit: 1/10. Cmon man. I know aerodynamics and all but cmon

Spider-Armor Mark IV: barely more than the last and without the excuse. Why is armor so skin tight it restricts movement and ass jiggle. that cant be protective

Spirit Spider: 7/10. Adequate, but i cant imagine theres much jiggle. Might be because of the muscle texture of the suit

Spider-Man 2099 White Suit: 6/10. This is like when they removed Snakes ass in Ultimate. I get its cause its squished in there but its like a shell i dont like it

Vintage Comic Book Suit: 6/10. The shaders add some good definition, but the way the top blends into the back its clear that theres not much of a back shelf there

Last Stand Suit: 2/10. I own a pair of jeans just like this so can confirm they can squeeze a ton of ass in and still look like that. Unfortunately that means the apparent juiciness is low as hell

Undies: 2/10. Boxer Briefs provide a lot of lower end support, but theres not enough under there to make me happy

Homemade Suit: 2/10. Same issue as the wrestler suit

Anti-Ock Suit: 1/10. He's concave again

Dark Suit: 6/10. The ass is emphasized but not in a way that makes me think he has enough to fill it out. No wonder Black Cat left him

Resilient Suit: 4/10. Theres some profile there but not enough. The highlight is helping though

Spider-Uk: 8/10. Okay so i was all ready to be snarky and rude cause not only is it british but i had somehow not gotten a screenshot so i had to pull up the game again and that was annoying. But its a solid ass. would eat crumpet while laying on it

Scarlet Spider II Suit: 7/10. Perky and tight!! You get the sense its like a pleather couch cushion

30 images is the limit per post so im gonna do the rest in a reblog

[polyklok]

Movies I think Dethklok members would really like

No this is not based on anything I’m just in a mood™ rn

Nathan Explosion

Mad God

So, no, I did not have any ounce of an idea of what this movie was about when I originally watched it, and I’m still not 100% sure tbh but an hour and a half of these pure vibes would totally be up Nathan’s alley. The post-apocalyptic setting, all the gore, the details of the various monsters, and I think he would just really appreciate it from an artist’s standpoint as well. This movie would just resonate with him, even if he wouldn’t have a fucking clue what was going on the whole time.

Mary and Max

I’m, personally, a bit on-the-fence about this movie, but it is undeniably sweet and I headcanon Nate to be on the spectrum so 🤷

This would be, like, his guilty pleasure film. The movie he knows is for kids and is totally not brutal but he loves it anyway. The, “I do not feel disabled, defective, or a need to be cured” really hits for him every single time. He rewatches it at least once every few months, especially when he’s in some sort of emotional slump.

Mandy

Another one that just like, like, big Nathan energy, you know? He just seems like a guy to really love loose plots with trippy visuals and strong emotions attached to them. Also, this movie is so completely badass, it is certified metal in his book. He also finds the story incredibly tragic; having the love of your life stripped away from you in such circumstances really tugs at his heartstrings, but in a way that gets him pumped up rather than sad. This is probably his go-to when people ask, “what’s your favorite movie?”

Pickles the Drummer

Son in Law

Okay this is my guilty pleasure movie. I usually don’t like stoner-comedy from the 90s, but this movie hits different. Maybe I just find Crawl hot. Anyway, I’m projecting that onto Pickles. He honestly probably finds a lot of crappy comedies to be peak film, and this is no exception. Pauly Shore pretending to be a country boy for a whole movie? Hells yeah. Pickles would watch while high off his mind, laughing his butt off and going to town on some cheez-its or something. And you know what? He deserves it.

Opal

I’m counting short films because I feel like Opal is the movie for Pickles. He’d watch it on a whim, because these are not usually the types of things he enjoys, and then he’d in tears over the emotional rollercoaster he did not agree to go on. Like, he grew up in a neglective household with authority figures that were overly-selfish and projected their own problems onto the youngest one in the house, to which he had to hide within his own brain more often than not just to properly function. And then he just…watched it happen all again in the hypnotic style of Jack Stauber. The Mom’s song had him in gasping tears for a while, the way you get when a movie somehow perfectly captures your own trauma right in front of you. And the ending??? Ugh. Go watch Opal, guys, it’s on YouTube.

Nathan and Pickles both get very emotional about certain stop-motion films, isn’t that crazy?

House

Thank you to Lucy for this Letterbox review that I think he would write

Anyway-

This movie is actually so insane. It’s not scary in a horror-movie way, like it meant to be, it’s scary as in ‘What the hell is happening and why do I understand it?’ Pickles doesn’t like most traditional horror films, as the long, quiet suspense bores him and the sudden jumpscares freak him the hell out way more than they should. But he loves the campy-wacko-type horror that they were apparently making in 70s Japan. It’s just scary enough to get his heart pumping, but the pure silliness of it all overrides that, getting him in a giddy mood and excited to see what happens next.

(No I am not done but tumblr won’t let me add more pictures)

[mermaidsirennikita]

ARC REVIEW: Empire of Seduction by Mila Finelli

4.5/5. Releases 6/25/2025.

Heat Index: 8/10

—fuck first, feelings later

—gambling shenanigans

—Mr. "Cool Head" meets Miss "DGAF"

The Basics:

When mafia don Vito D'Agostino meets Maggie, it's lust at first sight. Which is why they have a sizzling one night stand. But what happens when they meet again... after Vito wins Maggie's family's winery off her brother? Oops!

The Review:

As always: I am very picky about my mafia romance novels. A lot of them are corny. A lot of them are basically torture porn. A lot of them are US-centric (in terms of the mafia in question). I don't like any of those things, and Mila Finelli is one of the few authors who understands how to avoid these pitfalls and wring all the glorious, fun, campy goodness out of this subgenre.

I've wanted Vito's book since Mafia Madman (which remains my favorite Mila book and an all-time favorite in general—you don't have to read it before this one, but trust me, you wanna). I have a feeling that the Ravazzanis are Mila's best beloveds (and trust me, I get it) but the D'Agostino family is where it's at for me. Vito is the cooler, calmer alternative to his admittedly whackadoodle brother Enzo, yet he's also the younger, less experienced don. He perhaps has the natural instincts for the role, but he's not very experienced, and I found this book to be a little heavier on the mafia shenanigans than its predecessor in the series. Which added to the fun.

You know what else added to the fun? Maggie. Mila writes very good heroines in general, but it's been a while since a heroine in her repertoire got my attention quite to the degree that Frankie, and especially GIA (coincidentally Enzo's heroine, for those not in the know) the way Maggie has. She's brash and take-charge, while hiding a warm and gooey center. And she's uniquelt suited for Vito. I don't always need a romance couple to feel obviously "suited"—I like the clash—but here, though they clashed on the surface, it was quickly clear to me that these two... got each other. Physically and emotionally. They felt like a match. Like people who would be friends as much as they were lovers.

Maybe against their better judgment.

So in the midst of this mafia drama, you have a bit of a romcom, a bit of "he falls first and he doesn't know what to do about it", a bit of "she has to deal with Feelings beyond Pants Feelings". It's super fun, and I had a great time with it.

There remains the small town element, which differentiates the New York State of Mafia series from the Kings of Italy series. As a small town hater, I am begrudgingly charmed. It shouldn't work, but somehow it does. Mila just knows what she's doing, and that's a huge differentiator that sets these books apart from a lot of churn and burn mafia romances. While they give you the tropes you want, those OTT moments, they're clearly executed by an experienced writer who knows how to balance fun with plot, emotions, and yes, character development.

GIMME MORE.

The Sex:

As usual, it's quite hot, and I'm always a huge fan of "fuck first, feelings later" books. Maggie and Vito's sexual chemistry is never in question (and, like Enzo and Gia, they bond over their mutual love of butt stuff; the D'Agostinos have their trademarks). This isn't what I'd call a kinky romance, but it definitely goes there in terms of detail.

The Conclusion:

Mila Finelli is where it's at when it comes to mafia romance, and while I loved the last book in this series, Empire of Temptation, I enjoyed this even more. What are you waiting for?

Thanks to Mila Finelli and her team for providing me with a copy of this book. All thoughts and opinions are my own.

[redspades]

I’ve come back for another Rina Kent thoughtly rant. Now disclaimer, when I make these rants, it’s not me shitting on Rina Kent. I ate up all 34 of the books in a MONTH. Do you understand how many books a day I had to read? I don’t but all I know is that they FED me in a time that I needed to feast.

But as a fellow writer and one who identifies with this area of writing and reading, I must pull through and in the hopes that the continuous talking and revelation about these things will help improve the writing in dark romance.

This rant is not just about Rina Kent, but can be applied to every other dark romance book or romance in general (considering that they’re all pretty similar).

We’re going to be talking about. Female relationships. Rina Kent being the butt end of this rant, sorry to y’all. I haven’t read much romance books or any other dark romance books so I have nothing else to recall from besides the Twisted and Kings of Sin series by Ana Huang but those aren’t exactly dark romance. But can be used in this rant. It’s just that I have better examples with explanations from RK’s books because I’m more obsessed with them.

Okay so, beginning. The female relationships in RK’s books are super shallow. Especially in comparison to the male friendships. Like, look at Cole and Aiden from the RES. They’ve got the parallels sort of dynamics. Cole is a borderline sociopath/psychopath just as Aiden is except he’s more secretive about it and Aiden is the literal embodiment of being an asshole on the outside. They have a compelling hate relationship and yet maintain a friendship (begrudgingly). Like, hell, they’ve got interactions that show off their dynamics that even go up decades when their kids are full grown (EliAva).

While the female relationships there is nothing to be really said. Like, Elsa and Kimberly. Yeah, they’re friends. Yeah, they be there for each other. Yeah. That’s it. Literally. That’s it. Maybe it’s just me and the need to always have chaos and shit but like. This is a story, isn’t having chaos bringing in more depth to the story? Making it more interesting? Problems in things make the things MORE COMPELLING.

Silver and Elsa’s whole shtick was so so good, but portrayed terribly juvenile. It’s not the worst thing so don’t come jumping to rip off my dick but I’m saying they had a lot of potential to be better friends than Kimberly, and Elsa cause. Imagine your enemy, not enemy, but someone who makes life hard for you, and you see them for their humanness and what they truly are. You guys may hate each other or despise each other but you see them less as someone to hate and more as someone to understand. Perhaps through this understanding you can find friendship.

Teal and Silver’s whole thing was interesting to. That I can justify and say that was done right to its best ability. Like, Silver and Teal using each other’s love interests for their own purposes? Sign me up, use me too.

Either way, Kimberly and Elsa are dry, maybe that’s all they are. Idk, perhaps to add more depth to their friendship we could have Kimberly being jealous and admiring Elsa for her boldness early on, and then acting differently to try and imitate her later on when she rid of her fat but not her insecurity. While we have Elsa out here, worrying for Kimberly, pointing out all the things she’s doing not as bold but as dangerous and toxic to herself and those she could possibly get in danger. Then Kimberly could claim Elsa is jealous etc etc, make the situation ugly and complicated. It won’t kill you but when the girls resolve it, trust me, their friendship and bond is stronger.

And if I hear people coming to me and being like “tHiS iS a RoMANCe GenRE nOT a SlIcE of LiFe or FrIENDshIp GenRe” THEN TELL ME WHY THE MALE RELATIONSHIPS ARE SO MUCH MORE INTERESTING. WHY HAVE ROOM FOR THAT BUT NOT THE GIRLS?????

Cecily and Ava are fine, I can eat that. There’s underlying problems there waiting to wake up I just need them to be done well.

Ava and Annika’s issues were *chefs kiss* delicious. Ava threatening Annika because of Creighton. Ava blatantly showing her bias and side, basically saying she would choose Creighton over Annika if it ever came to. I loved that. I loved it so much I ATE IT. But I just wish we got to see more of it, the after effects of it. I don’t remember if they ever did but I wanted to see and read about the apology, and the sentiments of Ava to Annika and Annika to Ava. Would it be so hard? If we got to see Ava explaining her side to Annika and yet apologizing because it was brash and stupid to throw away her friendship because Creighton was also in the wrong for doing that to Annika? Yet Annika also being sorry and understanding of why Ava cares so much.

I’m saying it rn Book of Pain is my least favorite of the five. Another rant coming on that next time. Stay tuned.

Then there’s the giant ass glaring hole that is Glyndon King. Miss Girl never talks to her friends in her book. The Foursome was a lie, it’s a threesome considering the fact she’s NEVER THERE. Like I know these books are romance based but JESUS, can we also have some more complicated and depth into the other aspects of a dark romance based story? Would it not make the romance more delicious?

I know she’s introverted but at this point like… girl being introverted is your only personality trait. Which makes me so sad because GOM was one of my favorites and Glyndon is one of my favorites.

Mia and Maya had a good relationship, I say, the only thing to improve was the portrayal of it. I like their deep rooted and twin connection. Maya is a bitch but she’s Mia’s bitch. She’s family so Mia loves her because of it, despite all of Maya’s glaring flaws. Then it all falls apart when Mia finds out the secret. Isn’t that delicious? I mean a confusing betrayal sure. Like I don’t get why Mia was mad at Maya for being the cause of her trauma and muteness, I mean, wouldn’t it make more sense for her to want to find out why too? Mia is less emotional more methodical but still emotional especially when it comes to Landon but we can use that explanation for the other girls too which will come up in a rant about poor writing of characters.

Back to Mia and Maya, their relationship is good. It’s got the ups and downs and if only we got to see the downs through it but eh, I’ll take what I can get.

[thornvault]

Kali Introduction Post

As I've previously threatened, here's info on my Magnifico ship OC (shoutout to @king-magnifico-haven who actually asked for this!! You're so special to me rn 🩷)

Keep in mind that Kali is still a VERY new concept (originally created less than 24 hours ago at the time of writing this, though it may take me a minute to post) so a lot of this information is very likely subject to change. I have the basic idea, but as I toy around with the story I'll be thinking of new things. I'm impatient though so I'm posting what I got so far anyway!

Please be kind to the art. I don't like drawing humans so I don't do it very often 😆

Summary: Kali is in their mid-20s, nonbinary (they/them); they start out as Magnifico's apprentice and eventually become a Dark Mage, but in a good way. They're mastering that damn book. Kicking its butt. They're very motivated. Powerful OCs are cool and sexy!

Personality: Kali is soft-spoken but firm. They are most comfortable being in the background and much prefer to take orders than give them, but they're capable of taking charge if the situation demands it. They are outwardly polite and without much of a temper, though they have a mischievous side that they may show once they feel comfortable. Still new to the concept of safety, they can be a bit skittish and a people-pleaser, but they'll unlearn those habits in time. Once they grow more accustomed to their new home, they'll gradually become more outspoken as time goes by.

Plot: The main change to the movie for this AU is that there are several months or even years between Asha's failed interview and the rest of all that plot. Instead of immediately making a Wish Upon A Star™ and being heard, it stews a while, maybe Asha even gets her own little underground rebellion going before Star ever shows up. Let there be a proper plot. Once she turns 18, she'll just choose to keep her wish, what's Magnifico going to do about it? He may not like it but it does seem like a voluntary thing to do so he's not going to force her. For now.

Anyway. Onto Kali. They're relatively new to Rosas, a war fugitive from a place I haven't yet named. Kali has seen more than their fair share of suffering and loss. The Kingdom of Rosas always sounded like a fairytale to them, they never fully believed it to be real until they found it. Welcomed to a safe haven in exchange for nothing, they feel indebted to the people, and Magnifico especially, for taking them in.

Their Wish™ is to be able to help, to make a difference - however small - in the lives of people and all living beings. The pain they've endured has made them gentle, not cold, and they just want to make things better. Their past reminds Magnifico of his own, and seeing their wish when they give it to him, he offers them the position of his assistant - what better way to help than by learning magic, after all? Kali turns out to be fairly talented in it. It'll take a while to learn all the spells and potions and whatnot, but they clearly have the potential.

We all know why I'm here, of course. As surely nobody who's ever met me could have guessed, this mentor/student arrangement turns into an affair, which then turns into the real deal. Only there is the small problem of the Queen who may not be entirely on board with this concept. Sorry Amaya.

I haven't entirely figured out how things will play out here, only that Kali will stand by Magnifico and try to help as he slowly slips off the deep end, whereas Amaya just sort of drops him the second he starts glowing (really, Kali felt bad for her, but if she wanted to keep him she should've treated him better). It's not that they fully agree with his methods, but A) he's their mentor, surely he knows best; and B) he's not entirely wrong. Yeah, people should get their wishes back if they want them, it's THEIR wishes after all, but damn you're not even going to ask him nicely? Just break in and steal them after he's spent years keeping them safe for you? And he's clearly not doing well so they're sort of stuck between being supportive and trying to steer him into another direction, it's a weird position to be in.

Anyway, let's assume we're still going with movie canon to some degree and the ending still happens. Amaya offers Kali a position as High Mage; though wishes will of course no longer be taken nor granted, magic can still be useful. They may continue their studies by themself and continue living in the castle. It doesn't feel right at all, and they miss Magnifico.

So Kali does the unthinkable, and gets out that book. They're careful, very careful, but they have a lot more time now than Amaya and Dahlia did, and there has to be some way to free him. Getting him out of the mirror sounds easy enough, though it does require using spells from the forbidden book. But then there's the whole deal with unbinding him - well, at that point both of them, really. They visit him in the dungeon as often as they can without arousing suspicion, but it does take a long time for them to find a way to do all that.

And that's the story of how Kali begins to study forbidden magic and ways to use it safely, and revolutionizes the entire concept of how magic works. They can do it because they have genuinely good intentions with it and know how to keep their emotions in check. They got a pure heart. Come on, it's Disney, bear with me here. That makes sense in-universe. Magnifico gets fixed by True Love's Kiss and you can take that from my cold dead hands.

[nmakii]

you're so damn talented! seriously! i devoured the entire thing in one sitting. how ??? i have a major thing for manipulation ( its definitely not healthy save me ) and the plot is beyond words. Yandere Alastor is MADE for this masterpiece. can i ask how did you become so good at writing? i've always wanted to be a writer but can never seem to get it right. sorry if there any mistakes english isn't my first language so..........

-i

OMFG 😣😣💞💞 ILYSM!!! tbh i dont have a particular reason why i got to where i am rn. it’s mostly just years of writing, but i think there are a few reasons so ill list them here

1. english lessons

i have an english class at my school that helps me improve my grammar, and also does literary analyses on books like macbeth and the great gatsby. we also write essays often so, that also helped my ability to comprehend myself on paper properly.

2. books

IM A BOOK NERD 😋😋 i love the writing styles of authors like dazai osamu, agatha christie, and fyodor dostoevsky. as well as the poetry of nakahara and yosano (BSD NERD IM SORRY). i went through a phase where i tried to embody the writing styles of dazai and dostevsky since they were very comprehensive in their characterizations and they gave many moral dilemmas that are common in stories (which gave me TONS of inspiration). but, i also like to read the stories of ranpo edogawa and agatha christie for their plots, since no good story is not without a plot twist and their murder mysteries are really fun :p

3. visual novels

if books arent your thing, i also played tons of visual novels which helped me to learn how to describe objects since there are many limitations to these types of games :p

i recommend games like doki doki literature club, your turn to die, and danganronpa!

4. anecdotes

most of my stories are acc stories from my life! if not, then they have some aspect of reality. my lipstick fic was actually from a time i was in math class and i was testing if my lip gloss was smudge proof by kissing my friend on her hand (it smudged 🙁). getting stories from your real life helps to make the plot more dynamic, especially if you’re quoting real people 😋

if not, you can try to make it real (if youre weird like me). i have a request rn for kokichi with a reader who basically follows him around like a puppy, so i did this with my friend since shes a close match for kokichi, and i followed her around everywhere to see what her reactions were (she didnt have any bc we follow each other everywhere 😣)

and, if you’re having a hard time with characterization, this works as well!! i like to find a part of myself that is similar to the character and work off of that. for example, im writing a little niffty fic and both her and i are really psycho when it comes to cleaning, so i’m using my past experiences as a basis for that story and my friends’ reaction as a placeholder for reader :p

5. confidence!!

i tried cooperating with other people on fics, but it never really worked cuz i like to butt heads 😋. beta reading doesn’t really work for me either because everyone has their own taste when it comes to writing and you can’t please everybody. so, i only really reread my stories to check for grammatical errors, since i’m pretty pleased with my plots. people will always have something to criticize when it comes to your work, so it doesn’t really matter. plus, this is the internet. if a fic flops, it flops! if you think that your story is good, then upload it! someone is bound to like it 😋😋

[crazydramaticnerd]

Does any one ever feel like they get the urge to do everything? Or can’t decide what they want their future to be? Like i get the interest to be an astronaut and go ti space do some studies but at the same time i wanna be an aerospace engineer and study rockets and basically everything about space.

Sometimes i wanna be a noble prize winner a person who achieved something in the world. A scientist a politician and speak my voice to the world with my brilliant achievements and knowledge who comes out with legendary quotes and my done work that marks for generations

But at the same time i want to major in filmmaking and write books that could mirror my vision of my own fantasy worlds with my own heroes that i imagine and write about all the time , produce one of the best movie trilogies and get to win an Oscar

And then there’s the urge to just become a sad poet who writes down their feelings and their tears with an ink and 700 hundred plain apricot medium sized papers describing the urge to commit suicide or rot under their bed sheets from all the depression they had gained in their past years

Thats until my big interest in fashion comes in play, to be a second Anna Wintour or Miranda Priestly judging all the outfits making my own trends creating all those magazines help people glow and shine with a whole new style that looks more resting for the world’s eye

But also my big interest in fashion where it’s different than judging but more creativity doing it, for example Alexander McQueen or Coco Chanel. Just all these good designs with massive runways where i put effort to show off my clothes my models and the plaza i booked to play this show

I used to also think i should become an actress, well its not used to, its just the fact that i actually think i know how to act but do i? Or is it my passion in everything thinking i could do it all until its the time where im in the harshest reality working my butt off filming movies for roles that not all shows the perspective of my personality or traits just me playing a whole entire person instead of being me which is really kind of hard to do thats why I respect big actors.

And there i stay, 16 years old just expressing my feelings on tumblr knowing nobody will ever care to read the paragraph i just wrote

[ducknotinarow]

Splintered Fate Raphael - All Symbol Headcanons please uwu

| Send me a symbol and I will write a headcanon about…  For multimuse blogs, please specify!

I'm extremely guilty of mostly playing as Raphael in this game I just like his dialogue a lot. I love Raph from the game so much I love his little quirk they gave him of mixing up words like the conversation about the punk frogs wanting anarchy which he confuses for Antarctica, asking why dont they just move to place it snows all the time. But, despite this he's not played off as being a meat head idiot. He is but Raphael got a lot of heart when it comes to him setting Leo straight that they are meant to be a team. I just want more of this I know it's slightly based on the IDW one butttt stil!. Also his threats crack me up "imma sit on your lap till your legs break!"

𝓕 : My muse’s handwriting. (Is it good, bad, difficult to decipher, do they prefer writing by hand or with the help of some form of machine, e.t.c.) 

"Don' get why ya need it though?"

Okay so some of Raphs I feel at first might not seem right but when you think about his role in the game story? Raphael is impatient and can be easily irritated. And Well yeah those are common traits of this turtle after all. Raphael is an analytical thinker, often questioning everything. I wouldn't fully agree here but I will say Raph in the game dose often depending on what's going on dose question a lot. When you first cross the punk frogs he already thrown off by them before you even start fighting them. He doesn't trust the chairman at all and makes it clear in a lot of interactions. Honestly only time he isn't being this way is when it comes to finding Casey he's pretty confident they are fine. Has a hopeful attitude., is optimistic. And discreet and value silence. I dont agree on the last bit but I will say Raphael can be hopeful and even optimistic but it's very much in a Raphael way in that he knows they will win the fights and such he don't doubt that butt kicking. As you can see Raph's hand writing is messy and spaced out its because he is impatient don't take this imagine for fact he slants when he writes with out a line to guide him.

✈ : My muse and  traveling. (If they do it frequently and why, if they never left their home town, e.t.c.)

"Only through those weird portal 'hings." I do kind of feel the portals into the chairman shop are meant to be some weird distorting space but for the sake of this answer I don't feel like this Raphael has been all that many places. Despite liking the docks he's not big on boats. He gets motion sickness uwu buuut he don't like that being know. Cause hes a big tough guy can't be letting others know some waves make him feel like pucking his pizza u-u.

✿ : My muse and nature. (If they are an ‘outdoorsy type’, like the sound of bird’s singing, if they have never set foot in a forest, e.t.c.) 

"I like the sound of rain and the ocean waves.." I wouldn't call him the outdoorsy type but he loves going out to the dock to simply listen to the ocean waves. It's a such a nice calming sound. He likes to sneak away on his own and just stay on the docks by himself where he listens to the water for hours on end. But he also has a love for rain because it reminds him of someone special more so those stormy nights.

☼ : My muse’s first memory. (Where it was, who was with them, how this memory makes them feel, e.t.c.) 

"Firs' memory? uh I guess I 'member Splinter showing me 'hat origami book?"

Splinter often always tries to really help Raphael with his anger in different ways expect 12 u-u were not here for me to rant about this though XD

Splinter knows Raphael doesn't mean anything by his temper, but he dose want to help his son control said temper. Granted video game I feel Raphael has a bit better handle on his temper knowing when best to really let lose at worse? He is just quick to become confrontational. Brash and ready to throw in insults and such As seen with him and Leo's interaction from the comic tie in of the game. Raphael seems the type working with his hands helps him over quite mediation. But Splinter doesn't want to resort to 'hit things' he want's Raph to think. So he got him into the practice of folding paper and well he ended up getting pretty good at it. Since he was a kid he start making simple things like paper frogs. But hes far more skilled now and sometimes can be found in his hammock just making whatever comes to mind like flowers or cranes. He has a set of turtles in blue, red, purple and orange paper respectively that he keeps in his room, they are the only ones he don't throw out and will be a bit upset if you mess with them. Splinter made them for him when teaching him about origami, with them is a messy made rat that Raphael made to go with them.

☙ : My muse’s favourite food. (Bonus: A memory, be it good or bad, associated with said food.)

"Pizza with ranch ta dip it in."

Raphael also has a special soft spot for Splinter's Noodle surprise dish even if it's a little too salty.

♬ : My muse and music. (What type of music they like listening to and in what context, what music they would never listen to, e.t.c.)

"Good music."

Raphael's a fan of rock music and heavy metal it's what he has blasting in his room when he works out or when hes helping Donnie with any vehicles. Has a very bad habit of listening to music far louder than he needs to or should for sure. He dose like some pop music and that's the only time he will make use of headphones or lowering the music. Raphael a bit more touchy on keeping his tough guy appearance on display.

↺ : My muse and the past. (Do they live in the past and struggle to let go of past grievances, or move on more easily, is there anything in their past they want to forget, e.t.c.) 

"Eh not really, ain't much point."

Kinda sorta of, he dose and he doesn't. It sort of depends in all truth on what it is about. As stated in his own ways Raph can be hopefully and optimistic even. He is a very straight forward guy and he doesn't often keep to his past too much more where to go from here. He tends to blow of fails pretty well to just more annoyed that he has to start again. Only thing to do is get back out there and fight again standing around and moping doesn't get anything done after all.

☾ : My muse and sleep. (How much they sleep, how much they wish to sleep, if there is something that never fails to put them to sleep, e.t.c.) 

"Eh I sleep when I gotta" Not like his twin who doesn't seem to understand he needs to go bed, Raphael just is someone who can easily stay up late with out meaning to so much. Mostly because well staying up late means he can sneak out to the surface and maybe get in to a brawl or two. So he tends to be up pretty late often not going to bed till about late in the night and sleeping in if he can the following day. Raphael can actually get by with few hours of sleep, he'll just be a bit more grumpy but everyone is used to him being grumpy just means he sometimes might take a nap in the middle of the day. Which means the turtle is staying up late once again cause he won't be tried come night time.

✧ : My muse and art. (If they have an artistic side or not and why, favourite artist if they have one, e.t.c.) 

"eh I dunno much 'bout it."

Outside his love in origami he's not following his name sake here,

❃ : My muse and social media. (If the muse is/would be on social media and why/why not, their general opinion on it, e.t.c.) 

"I still don' get way Don rather 'ight online than in person?" Raph uses social media just not for the social aspect of it he likes things like tiktok and youtube, but anything that's more for interaction? Nah he just likes to watch videos and such. As established in other replies he doesn't even know Twitter is an app ant a person. So for a good well he's just gonna call Yvonne twitter. Raphael isn't much of a social person in the first place so sites that are more for that?

That being said he dose in fact use Tumblr himself, mostly to re blog stuff like memes and such. He likes to post his origami stuff here and there they tend to go unseen he also likes to take pictures of his bike i'm sorry I can't not see raphie having a bike himself uwu so his feed is mostly memes and almost macanic aesthetics

✉  : My muse and others. (If they social and outgoing or more introverted, and why. If they prefer communicating with others face to face or in written form, e.t.c.). 

"Eh I don' care much ta talk to a lot folks."

Like I said Raphael isn't really all that social of turtle himself. Hes someone that clicks with a few people at best and kinds of sticks to those only. Sure he can decent with others but it's clear if someone is his friend or not. Because that's when hes far more rowdy and out going. So pretty much an introvert and some people just drain him more than others and this dose go towards his own brothers even. Mikey and Leo tend to be more draining to deal with for him and often why Leo and Mikey can wear on his nerves so badly. Donnie? Donnie is the exception. Don is clam to be around the person Raph can be alone together with not to odd to find him near Don's work bench late at night. If he's in a pretty bad mood Don's kind of the only person who he will be nice towards. It's that twin biased uwu

▶ : My muse and level of education. (If the muse has some form of education, what education they perhaps wish they had, e.t.c.). 

"...uh what?"

Raphael is a beautiful sweet boy but he ain't got much going on in his skull ;3; it's why he tends to mix things up so much it is nice that he isn't corrected to often though in truth it could be because everyone used to this idiots dumbassary even when he is corrected least by Splinter he doesn't take offense to it.

◐ : My muse and animals. (If they like animals and treat them well, do not care for them at all, e.t.c.). 

"Eh I am one?"

I feel like all Raphael's are in fact animal lovers uwu I think Raph has a liking for cats the most, least ally cats seem to like him sometimes he keep little treats on hand that he can feed to any he comes across. It's cause he is also an alley cat himself they just vibe together uwu also the image of big mean look Raph with a cat rubbing against his leg well he tries to keep looking mean is adorable to me uwu

❒ : My muse and gifts. (If they are good/bad at finding gifts, good/bad at receiving gifts, good/bad at wrapping gifts, e.t.c.) 

"hmm Dad seems ta 'ike the mug we got 'em 'hat time?"

I feel Raph might not be the best with gifts but it's clear he had the person in mind he might not ever give the perfect gift or maybe even a good gift. But he did have the other person in mind and I feel that often that matters more. It's not a careless gift more maybe they would like this thing. And bless him he dose try he's just not the best, like he gives Casey things they might like simply cause they like hockey but it's kind of a dumb gift like a little hockey stick pen.

☘ : My muse’s relation with their family. (If they speak with each other and how much, if they are close or estranged, e.t.c.). 

"I'd do anythin' to keep it together."

Raphael loves his family he is loyal to them even if he can come across as critical toward his brothers. Especially Leo. Raphael is reckless in fights because he much rather take a hit over any of his brothers, He focused on landing critical hit when it comes to fights because the sooner he takes an opponent done the better. Because then that mean less chance for the others getting hurt. Raphael's love and dedication to his family is just as much a part of him as his anger is. Raph takes being the protect of his family very seriously and it extends to anyone consider family, but the world is so big and so full of harmful things.

Losing Splinter of course put him in the same panic as everyone else, but he felt fighting enough would be the answer. but as they go over and over again through many of the same fights only for it to be made into some twisted game? Wore down on him. Was he not doing enough? If he was fighting better than they would have their dad back right? He tries his best to stay as support for the team the muscle a tank that can take it all. But emotionally? he was falling apart and coming undone. The longer they went with out their dad? The less home was feeling like well home. Recalling all his memories with Splinter wondering if he been taking it all for granted this whole time? All Raph wants is to bring his dad back home. But he also can't let those cracks be seen hes the idiot muscle head who jumps into fights after all.

His connection his brothers is something unbreakable and that nothing can come between. Even if he fights with Leo he still follows them into battle he just wants Leo to get over himself. They aren't like the foot following order without question. They are meant to be a team why can't Leo get that?

Don as mentioned hes got a biased towards. Raphael doesn't ever mind when Don feels the need to run into his room and grip over an argument he has online. And hes easy to assume if Don needs him for anything he don't even have to ask Raph will be there. Heck he might just follow Donnie with out a mention needing to be made. Don asks Raph if he could come with him a moment and Raph's just gets up uncaring why.

Mikey still gets on his nerves it's what baby bros do best, and he loves him despite it. He actually likes some of Mikey's jokes even more if Don joins in with them and Leo hates it. Raphael honestly wishes he could be a bit more optimistic like Mikey so it's why he tries in his own way. If you want to really piss him of though? hurt Mikey and that all it takes. Tends to be wary around Slash for this reason since Mikey's close to them.

[sharonisthebettercarter]

i've heard preacher is super good (tho i haven't read it) but i know this guy has also been credited with doing some incredible superman and justice league work, upholding the characters with major respect. props to that for sure, and reading the boys was honestly just a major eye opener on its own. it was *incredible* critique on the military industrial complex and capitalism, front and center with no holds barred.

as far as i know, this guy's (def a fan of gore lmao butt~) also a huge fan of graphic novel style works like miller's dark knight returns.

there's some intensely amazing stories out there. and when they do this kinda outside the norm/status quo rejecting stuff or don't have a 'disney style' lens or happy end, it just hardcore flies over peoples heads because the concept of 'not that simple' or 'artistic freedom' doesn't seem to stick with some folk. worse is that people have a habit of judging a book by its cover/what they hear through the grapevine (much like people) rather than checking it out themselves/making an effort to understand it first hand.

a lot of people don't want to make the effort to properly analyze and hold their own thoughts on stuff, they'd rather just someone else do it for them, parrot the same ideas they first heard, and declare any disagreement or additional debate wrong (even when you flat out prove them wrong)

it's really telling when we get a confession that says, 'i don't understand why x happened' for this kinda stuff (not limited to ennis but stuff clearly made to make the reader think/absent of an author's personal opinion) because it's a perfect example of someone who never learned how to read context or think for themselves.

which is tragic, honestly. and i get it, part of the problem is the education system.

i realized too that i write almost exclusively with unreliable narrators and aim for the same sorta neutral (mostly heheheheh i got some leans) set up the best writers out there tend to give. not just cause i find it hilarious, but cause i try to get inside the characters heads and define them as their own people, rather than just an extension of my hand fit up their ass for my fantasies or being my sock puppet.

i *WISH* we could have more neutral/morally grey *writing* out there with imperfect characters doing imperfect things or even being shitty people *without* people trying to act like it's a reflection/personal declaration of opinions on the writer. because understanding that helps us reflect on our own imperfections and biases, maybe even be a little less judgy on the world around us<3

but not understanding that *kills* good creativity in the absolute worst way.

i can't even count the amount of times i've seen fans go off, dehumanize and insult (sometimes even harass) a writer in the industry literally producing the content they enjoy for the crime of... not producing it *exactly* the way they wanted like a perfectly mind read script (jesus christ people, wtf do we even have fan fiction for if y'all go off and pull that shit). and that's not to say there isn't bad writing from supposed pros out there (there absolutely is *cough*cough*lookin' at you *endgame*mcu*), that's to remind people that these ain't frickin' robots.

they're not even the ones making all the money (if the recent strikes were any indication, always remember that artists/writers getting mistreated by the industry is STILL rampant, ESPECIALLY with big companies like *disney*, but most of hollywood ain't so good either)

they're also *people*, who ain't you, and ain't fuckin' perfect, and they don't gotta be neither. stories can be flawed or not made specifically revolving around our own ideas, and we can still enjoy them, just like we would from another fan fic author.

granted, we may still show favoritism towards our own work (LMAO), but seriously, how damn stuck up you gotta be to denounce everything that ain't made by you or for you or people like you?? (at least have the decency to recognize your own trashhood~<3 WOOOOOOOOOO--)

lmao prolly why i love neutral writing so much. just tells the story/ lesson in depth, leaves us to think for ourselves.

but c'mon y'all, we can do better<3

[billlydear]

SUPERNOVA - BILLY HARGROVE X READER (PART ONE)

word count: 3135 // masterlist | inbox (please request) | WIP list

Summary: max's english tutor has a black eye and a shitty alibi. billy sees right through it.

Contents/Warnings: fem!reader, angst, hurt/comfort, eventual happy ending, mentions of abuse, injuries mentioned (black eye), reader is abused by her mother just like billy is by his father

A/N: thank you for 300 followers!!! have this as a little gift from me to you <3 basic biology part three is in the works, don't worry! i just wrote this in a fit of sleep deprived passion the other night after thinking about it for a week or so and i wanted to share :) i hope you enjoy! the ending of this is pretty straightforward and, though i plan to write more parts, this can be read on its own for now.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

There’s never a good reason for Max to stomp into Billy’s room. It’s always either her demanding a ride somewhere, asking for money, or shouting at him to turn his music down. This time, though, there’s no music playing, and it’s nearing 11:00 PM, so he’s not sure why she’d need money or a ride.

He glances up at her, really more of a glare, through his eyelashes, reclined against the wall as he lounges on his bed. He’s got a magazine in hand and the pages are as boring as the cover was, but he’d rather stare at faded jet ski advertisements than read the book he’s supposed to be working on for English.

She stops just inside the doorway, jacket on and shoes laced. He narrows his eyes at her, something of a question, and she sounds just as venomous as he looks when she replies.

“I need to borrow your window.” She mutters, piercing eyes set on him.

He’s heard her say a lot of weird things since they started living together. Mom, I can’t find my left rollerskate, Why is my bra in the freezer?, and We’re not going in the theater, we’re going to sit outside and talk, have previously topped the list but this is off the charts.

“Sure, Max,” He drawls, fingers tightening against the waxy magazine paper, “Just haul it back in here when you’re done, okay?”

“You know what I mean,” She huffs, already lunging for his bed. She practically topples him in her overzealous attempt to reach the window, and he shoots a hand out to steady himself as the mattress rocks. He has half a mind to kick her onto the floor but he watches her click a flashlight open from her jacket pocket, and stares with suspicious intrigue instead.

“Come on, come on,” She huffs, clicking the light on, off, on, off, “Where is she?”

“Who?” Billy leans forwards, peering out the window into the blackened neighborhood, “Jesus, Max, don’t go shining lights into people’s windows at night, they’ll think you’re some creep trying to watch them change.”

“Yeah, I’m sure you know that from experience,” She grumbles, shoving his hand away when he tries grabbing the light.

“I’m not kidding,” Billy seethes, muscled arm coming to combat her defenses, nearly shoving her off of the end of the bed, “What are you even trying to do, anyways?”

“I’m trying to talk to my tutor,” She snaps, landing a sharp slap to his thigh that reddens the skin there, “Butt out, butthead.”

“Assface,” Billy grumbles, rubbing at the tender spot on his leg with half a mind to whack her upside the head. She ignores him completely, desperately flicking the light at a ground floor window.

“Do you really need tutoring help now?” Billy groans, the incessant clicking preventing him from what was supposed to be his before-bed relaxation.

“She wasn’t at school today,” Max explains in a huff, “Or- like, she didn’t show up at my school. She called this morning to say she was sick, but she sounded fine, and I heard someone in the parking lot say that they saw her outside her house, just sitting there, like, really late last night.”

“So she was getting some fresh air,” Billy deadpans, “Now get out of my room.”

“Would it kill you to cooperate?” Max turns to him with such a judgemental stare that Billy’s surprised he doesn’t wither away right on the spot. Hell hath no fury like a teenage girl scorned, he thinks, annoyance bubbling in his chest.

“She’s obviously not coming,” Billy reasons, his patience wearing thin after almost two minutes of flashlight nonsense, “She’s probably sleeping. She’s got the flu or something, and you’re gonna wake her up and make her even more sick. Just leave her alone, and leave me alone.”

“I’m not asking you to be a part of this!” She gushes, jaw set in a hard frown and eyes rolling when he props his elbow up on the windowsill, cheek smushed into a bored expression against his palm.

“I just want to see if she’s okay, because she doesn’t normally get sick, and I haven’t seen her window open all day, and I really think that something might be wrong, so-”

After a staggering two minutes and forty-six seconds of morse code from hell, your curtains part. Max practically lights up at the sliver of light that appears between the drapes, but when your face pops between it, her breath hitches in a gasp.

Your eye is bruised. It’s swollen shut and purple, an ugly stain that blooms down your cheek, like a rose that sticks its thorns straight into Billy’s chest. His posture, previously saggy and bored, stiffens until he’s nearly pressed against the glass, brows furrowed in horror as his lips part ever-so-slightly.

“Oh my god,” Max breathes, and you regard them both with a weary gaze.

Max lifts the lower half of Billy’s window, slipping out the gap with such agility and speed that Billy doesn’t have a chance to try to stop her before she’s already outside. He rushes to follow her, cringing as his bare feet land in damp piles of leaves.

“What happened to you?” Max runs to your window, bracing her hands on the sill.

“Nothing,” You try to smile, and it pulls at the skin around your eye, finishing the expression off with a wince, “I just- it’s silly, okay? I slipped and fell on the ice out front and I hit the stair rail on the way down. I was too embarrassed to go to school, ‘cause I knew everyone would ask, so I just called out sick. I’m sorry, Max, I know today was our day, but I’ll do double time once this heals.”

The more you ramble, the quicker you spew your pre-determined speech, the more the thorns lodge themselves in Billy’s gut. It’s familiar behavior, having an outlandish excuse at your disposal, reciting it like poetry, blaming the bruises on a misstep down the stairs rather than a rage-fueled fist. He’s done the same to countless teachers, all staring down at him with a condescending sneer, assuming he’d instigated another fight.

Max might not be well acquainted with different types of bruises - and god he hopes she never has to be - but Billy certainly is. And your black eye is not from a stair railing, he knows that. It looks the same as his does whenever Neil decides he’s in a fighting mood, and it doesn’t seem like you have the frozen peas that Billy usually medicates his marks with.

“It’s okay!” Max promises, and thankfully she commands enough of your attention to where you don’t notice Billy’s grief-stricken stare, looking for all the world like he’d been punched in the gut.

‘It’s okay, we can just meet up some other time. Or- or I can come over to your house! So you don’t have to show your face anywhere. And I won’t tell,” She insists, hands dug snugly into the pockets of her jacket, “I’m good at keeping secrets.”

So are you, Billy notes, just not to the people with the same ones.

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” You frown slightly, biting the inside of your cheek, “This really hurts, and it’s kind of giving me a headache, so… might be best to just meet when it’s healed.”

“That’s fine,” Max nods, reaching up and through the window to sling her arms around your neck in a rushed hug, “Just- call me when it’s better, okay? My teacher set us this new essay, and it’s got some stupidly complicated prompt, so I need your help figuring out-”

Billy watches as your head ticks up, eyes widening slightly as you tune into the sounds of your house. He knows the look all too well, you’ve heard someone coming.

“That’s great Max,” You stammer, reaching for the window pane to close it, "I’ve gotta go!”

“-how to… write it.” She finishes, face wrinkling in confusion when you slam the window shut, yanking the curtains closed, “Feel better…”

“Go,” Billy jumps to action, hearing a raised voice from within your room, not your own, “Max, move!”

He pushes her along the side of their house, shoving her around the back until they’re out of the line of sight from your window. He peers around the corner from behind an overgrown trellis, one that lets him see you without you seeing him. He waits with bated breath, ignoring Max’s indignant protests and slamming a hand over her mouth.

She licks his palm, but he manages to stay calm and keep it there. He will smear it on her cheek later, though.

Sure enough, Billy watches your curtains fly open. There’s a woman in the window now, and you’re standing behind her, expression unreadable. Then you speak, and Billy can’t hear it. Your voice must be soft, gentle, calming. The woman barrely reacts, eyes scanning wildly for whoever you’d been talking to. But Billy keeps Max quiet, pinching her hard when she tries escaping his grip.

Billy watches the woman in your window with a hatred he’s only ever felt towards Neil. She acts the same, menacing glares and a puffed-up chest. You react just as he does, a personified tension-diffuser as you shrink in on yourself and give steady, slow answers. She’s shouting, you’re mumbling. She’s advancing, you’re backing away. She’s grabbing your wrist, forcing you close to her, and you’re squeezing your eyes shut.

Billy’s stomach churns; he can’t watch this any longer.

He herds Max to the other side of the house, keeps her restrained with one hand and pries at her window with the other. It opens smooth and easy, no squeaking that would alert their parents to their escapade.

Once they’re both inside, she flips.

“You asshole,” She huffs, “You manhandled me! You really couldn’t just let me have one nice conversation with my friend? You had to yank me away like some psychopath?”

“She wasn’t going to come back,” Billy murmurs, a glint in his eyes urging her to lower her own voice, “And she didn’t fall down the stairs. Go to sleep, Max.”

He feels a pillow hit him in the back as he strides out of her room, and each step down the hallway towards his own feels like he’s numbing from the inside out. The role reversal of his own life had been so mind-shattering, watching a scene from his household happen in real time in front of him instead of a torturous memory in his nightmares.

By the time he reaches his room, his fingers are too numb to shut the door. He kicks it closed instead, staring out of the still-opened window to watch your own. The curtains are drawn again, shutting you off from the world.

He stands there staring for what feels like seconds, but is probably minutes with the way his brain is warping his thoughts. Abuse felt so lonely, it was a soundproof room with padded walls, but they stung like hot coals when his dad came stomping in to shove him up against them. His family, his safe space, his padded room, came with the irony of only existing alongside pain, fear, and anxiety. And knowing there was an identical room beside his for god knows how long, thick layers of insulation drowning out each of your cries and blocking out each other’s existence, makes him sick.

His eye stings with the residual image of your own, a feeling he knows all too well. His hand, on instinct, tingles with a cold sort of sensation, the same that he got from grabbing the ice-covered peas out of the freezer.

He’s off to the kitchen in a hurry, feet padding carefully across the floor so as not to alert anyone of his presence. The biggest challenge is opening the freezer door quietly, but he’s a pro at it by now. He takes the peas back to his room, but this time he doesn’t curl up in his bed with them pressed to his eye, he clutches them tightly and heads for the window.

Max’s flashlight is discarded on the sill, and he wraps it in his free fist. He clicks it on cautiously, testing the sound to see how it echoes in the empty space between your house and his. It’s not obnoxiously loud, hopefully no one can hear it.

He flashes it against your window, only for a second, then ducks beneath the sill. He waits, expecting an explosion of sound as your mother reaches out to grab him. But nothing happens, so he straightens up to his full height. The wind nips at his bare arms, goosebumps erupting over the skin not covered by his muscle tank. He waves the flashlight once more at your window, covering it with his thumb to flash it instead of clicking the button rapidly. 

He hears shuffling from inside, then silence. Then shuffling again, a little closer, and silence. Then more shuffling, and the routine continues until he hears your fingers scrape at the window pane.

You duck under the curtains this time, easier to slip back inside and shut the window instead of drawing the curtains, “Max, I can’t-”

Billy doesn’t know what to say when your eye catches him. He blinks, once, twice, three times, watching as your anxious eyes rove over him. Only then does he register the chill in his hand, the peas.

“Here,” He murmurs, voice soft and slightly raspy, as he holds the package out to you, “Ten minutes, then turn the package around, then ten more minutes. And if it’s still icy, do it over again.”

You take the peas because you have to, because he’s pressing the cold package into your hand. Your fingers wrap around it and you peer curiously at the image on the front, only glancing back up at him when he shifts in his stance, leaves crushed beneath his feet.

“The package rustles,” He warns you, “Be careful. Don’t get caught.”

“I won’t,” You finally murmur, breaking your stunned silence, “I- Uh, thank you. It’s.. Billy, right?”

“Yeah,” He breathes, nodding once. He’s half aware that his curls aren’t exactly perfect like they typically are, because nodding sends one of them tumbling into his eyesight over his forehead, “That’s me.”

“Y/N,” You mumble, and this time even Billy hears the heavy footfalls in your hallway. They set you on edge again, and he yanks his fingers back from the windowsill so that you can snap it shut, “I gotta go.”

“Bye,” He whispers, voice lost to the night as he stands outside your window. He ducks beneath the sill again, where your mom can’t see him if she decides to search the premises. He doesn’t hear anything from your room, though, and he takes it as a good sign when the footsteps retreat. Then he hears the soft crunch of the package of peas, muffled beneath what he assumes is your blanket as bed springs creak from within.

His eyes snap shut at the sound, envisioning you curled up beneath your comforter, hugging the bag of peas to your bruise. It’s a position that feels so natural to him he almost replicates it, back slumped against the siding of your house. The rustling stops; you got yourself settled.

Only then does he move, climbing back through his window and shutting it for the night. He can’t sleep, though, eyes drifting towards your window from his seat on his bed. He watches, he waits, he stares until his eyes sting, every second that passes a blessing for the lack of commotion it causes. When he does fall asleep it’s after the upstairs lights of your house have shut off, because only then is it over, only then is it safe. He sleeps in solidarity with you, knowing that the click of the lightswitch puts you at ease just like it does him; if there's someone else awake, it’s not safe to sleep. He’ll wake up tomorrow morning with a stiff neck from sleeping up against the wall, but his eyes will flutter open and the first thing he’ll see is your window, hopefully open to showcase peace inside.

Never in his life has he felt connected to someone his age. That’s what abuse does, that’s what Neil does. He isolates Billy, keeping him under his thumb so the boy can’t escape his clutches. But now there’s a glimmer of hope right next door. Hope, he supposes, isn’t the right word. A muddy black eye isn’t hopeful. It is, though, when it’s matching his own, when your scars and bruises line up with each other’s to map out constellations of torture. He wants to chart them, find out where the patterns are, spit out the stories behind them.

He’s spent enough time stargazing his own past, picking a new ball of fire each night to examine. To pick apart, to wish he’d have acted differently in, to regret. Now there’s a whole other sky mere feet away from him, and he yearns to chart it, to explore its patterns in the desperate hope of finding companionship. Oh, that cluster? A missed curfew. That bright one? Backtalk.

He’s always felt like a potential supernova. Like one day, all of the hurt, rage, and despair inside of him is going to burst forth in an explosion of color, blood and guts paired with anguish and heartache. 

And now, knowing there’s another ticking time bomb beside him, two panes of glass separating the two dying stars, he has hope. Maybe it’s morbid, to want to explode in tandem. To seek connection in even destruction. All Billy knows is that if he can’t get out, he’ll die.

He thinks about it for a moment; getting out. Shooting across the galaxy, hurtling over the inky black sky until the swirling black hole that is Neil Hargrove can’t suck him in anymore. Landing somewhere where he burns bright without the threat of explosion. 

And for the first time since that vision began, he sees two stars. One yours and one his, twin flames, both rocketing towards a safe corner of the universe, one where no one else can dim your glow. 

Billy knows right then and there, he has to get to know you. He’s never tried making real friends, never wants to get close enough to have to reveal that Daddy hits him and Mommy - New Mommy - doesn’t care. But you’re the same as him, a dimming star puttering along with the desperate hope of migrating instead of exploding. And if you can feed off of each other’s light, merge into one, he knows you’ll be strong enough to escape together, to go out without a bang.

reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated! your feedback motivates me to write more, so thank you for your support :-)

[hyunsuks-beanie]

Reward

Pairing: Perv! Coach! Hyunjin x afab! Tennis player! Reader

Genre: Smut

Content Warnings: Tennis player au; perv patters; dirty thoughts; mentions of groping; fellatio; fingering; cunnilingus; unprotected sex; creampie

Word Count: 1.2k words 

Mellow speaks: Been sitting in my inbox for a while and I'm finally posting it!! Perv fics are really enjoyable to write lmao so i hope you guys like this!

Tagging: @sweethyuka @yedamology @enhacolor @axartia @hyunsuksmygod  @duolingofanaccount @zurimochi

There you go again, bouncing around the court in your tiny skirt, the fabric swishing around your legs as you wave your racquet in the air. You would be sure being a tennis player doesn't have anything to do with being sexy, but in hindsight, if you think about the way your skin shines as the sunlight bounces off it, or the way your shorts peek out from under the hem, it's not too hard to imagine why someone would lose their minds at the sight. 

Especially if that someone is your coach, Hyunjin, the person who's seen you wear all sorts of unintentionally sexy outfits during the two years he's been training you. From the yellow shorts you save for your matches, to the sports bra you put on while going jogging in the morning, he's had the pleasure of seeing them all, and yet, he has to say his favorite is the very white skirt you're wearing right now, coupled with that baby blue crop top. 

It's not his fault if he lets his mind wander a little whenever you're under his gaze, or so he tells himself, reasoning that it's only natural to be aroused upon seeing such a heavenly figure. It's only natural to want to run his hands along that supple skin, and to place kisses to all the places of your body that no one else has ever seen before.

Because to him, it appears as if you're doing this on purpose, just to rile your poor, musing coach up until he can't take it anymore and does something that's not right by the book. And you're not exactly proving him wrong either, not when you beckon for him to help you out a new move, a shy smile on your face while your hand shields your eyes. 

It's like an invitation to him, his mind clouding over with darkness despite the brightness of the day as he saunters over. "Yes, darling?," he chuckles, and you can't help but get flustered at the pet name he uses for you. He's told you a handful of times how he's always this friendly with his students, but you can tell that you're the only one for whom he's got that word reserved. And you can't exactly say you don't like it, because who doesn't enjoy the attention, especially if it's coming from a guy as hot as Hyunjin?

So you let him be, let him take a place behind your form as his hands gently make their way to your shoulders, snaking down your arms and getting you in position. "Your stance is too stiff," he mumbles against your ear, his teeth only barely grazing the skin of your earlobe as he fights the urge to bite down at it. The feeling leaves a tingling in its wake, making you gulp a little as he moves even closer, his chest now pressed flat against your back. 

He might as well be in heaven right now, judging from the way he almost finds himself unable to hold back the smirk that threatens to paint his lips, the part of his body that rests between his thighs urging him to pull you to him by the waist, eager to feel the way your hips would be rolling against his own. "Relax, darling," he mutters, his hands slipping away from your arms and choosing to feel down your sides and come to rest near your butt as he positions you correctly (or pretends to do so, anyway). 

You know exactly what he's up to, but there's nothing you can say, or rather, nothing that you want to say. "Feel one with your racquet, act as if it's a part of your being." That's the final piece of advice he gives you, before pulling away to monitor your moves from a distance. Though both you and him know that's yet another pretense, and what he really plans on doing is enjoying the view from the best place, wanting see each and every move of your body. 

Feeling his eyes raking across your form, you raise your arm, the ball in your hand being tossed into the air as you slam it down, lifting your body up into the sky. The ball does a clean smash on the other side of the net, and while Hyunjin was supposed to be praising you for getting the move right at last, he finds his mind too preoccupied with how gorgeous your midriff looks as your top rides up your torso, the urge to touch you even more overwhelming than before. 

All of a sudden, all he can think of is how badly he needs to feel every inch of your skin against his fingers, calloused from playing tennis for years. He wants to press his lips to the warmth that lies in the valley of your breasts, and he wants to life that short skirt up your legs and discover all the secrets you've kept hidden under the outfits you wear. He needs to love your body, he needs to worship each and every curve and dip.

He needs to feel your nails digging into his back as he leaves open-mouthed kisses to your neck and throat, and he needs to hear you moan in that velvety voice of yours as he shoves his tongue into your core and licks stripes and shapes up your pussy. He wants to feel your lips get wrapped around his cock, and he wants to feel the way your palms run up and down his length and massage his balls as you go down on him, showing him stars in the daytime. 

He wants to see your body, see the effect that playing tennis for hours every day has had on it, and he wants to bury his face between your breasts while his cock thrusts and twitches inside you, and he wants to push his seed that spills out of your hole, back into it and fill you up. Yeah, he wants to fuck you. Fuck you inside the changing room, against the lockers. He wants to drag you to his car and fuck you on the backseat, and then he wants to bring you to his home and fuck you against every surface, from the kitchen counter to the bed. He wants to reward you for being a good student, and he wants to punish you for being so distracting. 

He knows what he wants to do, he's known it for a while now. But until today, what he didn't know was how he was going to do what he wanted to do, yet in this moment, he thinks he finally knows. The tournament is coming up, and being the star that you are, he knows you're gonna win. He'll have plenty of time to give you a prize after that, and a good reason too. 

And until that time comes, he can always rely on the stock of photos he has of you (to show you how your form changes throughout a match) to help him through the night.

[the-fiction-witch]

Fantasy

Media TMR au

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating smut af!!

Concept dirty little fantasy

Smut 'princess/ mastubation/ consensual rape play kinda?/ Nipple play/ breast play/ fingering/ eating out/ pantie stuffing/ vibrators/ magic wand/ torcher/ squirting/ mystery intruder/ Hickis/ full sex/ jizz/

Warning: I don't know how to explain this so I will do my best in this fic, there is rape play or well semi consensual play is better, they are agreeing it is consented will safewords, for a 'intruder non consensual fantasy' they do consent to doing the roleplay there is just semi consensual non consensual elements in the roleplay just wanted to clarify that for everyone.

I rushed along with the steam of people from room to room all of us trying to get where we were going within the short time between bells. I rushed into the room and immediately saw on the board a seating plan I was always concerned with seating plans as you can end up in pretty terrible places. They only do it to try and split people up even if it never works. I found I was to sit at the back beside… him. I nervously approached the table seeing him sitting there.

His converses against the chair's metal legs dirty and tattered, dark brown cargo pants also dirty and well-tattered, a grey hoodie that swallowed his skinny body up now allowing any of his skin to be seen, even the hood up with only the small fringe of his hair visible its gold and chocolate colour with a bright blue steak that honestly looked like he took a blue highlighter to his head last period. He had headphones in his ears with the cord coming down from the hood into his pocket. 

“Alright everyone phones away, and attention forward,” The Lecturer said so I took my seat and put my books down. He rolled his eyes pulling his headphones out soon enough we got out the worksheet for the day and of course once everyone began working and the lecturer left everyone began to talk among themselves. So I tried to strike up a conversation 

“Uhh Hi” 

He only glared at me chewing some gum in his cheek “what?”

“I was just saying hello” I answered sheepishly

“Whatever,” he says returning to his work, finishing his questions quickly and starting to doodle in his notebook 

“I’m y/n” I smiled trying once again to start a conversation 

“Wonderful.” he says 

“And you are?”

“The fucking tooth fairy,” he says clearly annoyed so I silenced myself and got on with my work “Isaac.”

“Isaac. Nice to meet you”

“Just call me newt. If ever you wish to actually speak to me”

“Okay, newt” I nodded “what-” I began but he spoke up interrupting me 

“The less you speak. The happier I’ll be”

“Okay” I nodded just getting on with my work. 

I sat up at my desk, typing away on my laptop the lights down low, typing up my little fantasy, the little things I dreamt off. I don’t know why I do at this point but still in my little notes to read when I feel particularly giggly. Writing my little notes about invaders, about masters and mistresses, about monsters and mad lusts. All for my own personal use knowing knowone but me would ever see them. 

I sat at my table doing my work for the day, I caught sight of newt beside me as he made his work sheet into a paper airoplane he saw me looking and simply glared at me “What?”

“Just curious what you where doing.”

“Curiousity killed the cat”

“Did it?”

“Well someone did” he says

I focused back on my work trying to get the work done.  

“Whats your deal anyway?”

“My deal?”

“Your vibe. Your thing. You just sort of seem to… be”

“Isn’t that normal?”

“Whatever Princess”

“P-Princess?” I asked blushing hard unable to think off… my little smutty dreams 

“Ohhh” He smirked “Thats the kinda girl you are” he smirked the bell rang so everyone began to gather their stuff he threw his backpack over his shoulder “See you later, Princess” he smirked pinching my butt before he headed off to his neck class. 

I sat on the yard on my little bench book in hand having a sweet read of my book, “Hey Princess” I looked up and saw newt smirking at me 

“Hello Newt” I rolled my eyes a little 

“Missing something?” he smirked 

“What are you talking about?”

“You really don’t miss it?”

“Miss what?” I asked 

“This?” he smirked revealing my phone from his pocket

“Where did you get that!” I yelped snatching it from him

“I found it”

“Where?”

“You left it on the desk in social studies” he smirked 

“Well thanks newt”

“Don’t worry about it princess. See you around” He chuckled heading off somewhere else 

I nervously went though my phone incase anything was missing, not that I don’t trust him…. Well I don’t. Nothing seemed to be missing or changed so I breathed a sigh of relife and put my phone back in my pocket. 

I walked down the grey stone street holding my books close to me, I know he’s hovering behind me, following me home. I sighed and turned around to face newt “What are you doing?” I asked 

“Walking home?”

“You never walk this way home”

“Well I wanted to walk this way today”

“You know newt if you wanted to walk me home you could have just asked?”

“Could I princess? Did I read right?”

“What?”

“On your phone, your parents are out of town?”

“....yes” I admitted “Till tuesday” 

“interesting” he smirked 

“Why?”

“Curious”

“Curiousity Killed the cat”

“Did it? See you around princess” he smirked heading off his own way, I was a little nervous but headed home and locked the house up. 

I sat in my bed unable to stop reading though my little writings as I laid unable to sleep contemplating perhaps having some fun as I was all alone. I read about a man forcing his hands on me in a crowded train carriage. I knew it was horrible. I know if it was something to happen in reality of scream and cry, but I'm my own mind it's safe under my control, a sick fantasy I would never act on. As I laid in bed I heard a sound but I didn't think much off it probably just a bird or something. So I nuzzled closer to my pillow getting cosy in my bed I heard a creaking but thought little off it just the house spooking me as I'm here all by myself focusing on my phone when all of a sudden I felt something grab my ankle making me squeal as I was aggressively pulled from my bed I screamed but quickly a hand was put over my mouth silencing my screams "hello princess" his voice smirked in my ear holding me tightly 

"Newt!' I yelled pulling his hand away "what the hell are you doing in my house!" 

"Exactly what you want me to do" he smirked grabbing my hands pulling them behind me and locking them into handcuffs

"What the hell!" I yelled "let me go!'

"No. I won't' he smirked throwing me on my rug immediately pinning me down there 

"Let me go!" I yelled 

"No princess" he smirked throwing a black backpack down beside me as he smirked down at me in my little nightie 

"What are you doing here?'

"Well. I read your little story"

"My what!'

"On your phone." He smirked "a very interesting read princess. About big tough men, touching you and having there way with you" he smirked "I figured as your parents are gone for a few days… I could help you live out one of those dirty fantasies of yours" 

"But I don't really want that!'

"Don't you?'

'there just fantasy newt silly little dreams"

"Well. Reading them got me hard. The thought of you being so… into that stuff. I'll do it. If you want me to. Or is it part of the fun to… not want me?"

"I uhhhh"

"I get it princess. The safewords fantasy. Unless you say it I won't stop" he smirked 

"Newt i-" 

"And if you want harder say my name princess" he smirked kissing down my neck 

I blushed hard unsure what I wanted to do and all that I could think of was "I'm a virgin"

"Really?" He smirked and I nodded "ummm you bad bad girl" he growled "that's alright princess. I can fix that" he smirked pressing himself against me rubbing his erection against my panties 

I gasped and tried to struggle away but given my restrains and his weight above me it was impossible "newt" I complained to which he smirked pulling back and taking my nightie in his hands firmly gripping the cotton and with a quick pull he ripped it apart completely exposing my bare breasts to him which I instantly tried to hide and struggle against but he just sat his knee on my leg and his hands on my hips leaving me with no escape as he chuckled 

"My perky little princess" he smirked playfully tugging on my nipple to harden it before grabbing my breasts one in each hand firmly groping me "ummm fuck ohh god they feel so good" he moans his eyes rolling back a little as he squeezed, groped, fondled, and massaged my breasts often times twisting and rubbing on my nipples with his fingers making me whine and struggle but he never let me move very content to play with my tits for what felt like hours leaving my nipples hard and sore from his playing. 

"Newt please stop-" I began 

"If you wanted me to stop you'd use the safe word. Not the rougher word. Humm or does my little princess just not wanna admit how much this turns her on" he smirked, unzipping the backpack revealing a whole bunch of items that made my heart race. Rope. Tape. Paddles. Vibrators. And a large magic wand. 

"Where did you -"

'I bought them just for you princess" he smirked he grabbed the rope and tried my legs in such a way that I had no choice but to keep them as apart as they would physically go tied to my bedpost and the leg of my chest of drawers he smirked stroking my panties softly 

"Newt please i-"

"Don't whine princess. Master will fix you up don't worry" he smirked pushing my panties to the side 

"No please! Newt don't-"

"Why not?"

"Now ones ever touched -"

"Never? Just you?" He asks and I nodded "humm… well I did break in princess. So I am going to make sure I steal something valuable" he smirked slipping his fingers inside me making me squeal curving my back trying to struggle away "oh yeah. Dripping wet for me princess" he growled kissing my neck leaving Hickis all over me as he fingered me aggressively moving his fingers back and forth curving them and moving them to cause endless pleasure which only amused him more "maybe I should come bye every night your so much fun to watch princess" he smirked 

"Newt stop please I-"

"Oh i'll stop. When you say the word. When you say the safe word and admit what a little dirty girl you are" he smirked "ummm just reading those little things on your phone got me so hard princess. I couldn't help imagining bring the one who gets to ruin you" he smirked "did you fantasize me too?"

"No I never-"

"Liar." He growled moving to lick and suck on my nipples as his fingers worked hard 

"Uuughhhh newt!' 

"Where are they?'

"What?"

"Your toys"

"I haven't-"

"No? Good I got everything then" he smirked reaching into his backpack pulled out a well sculpted and textured vibrator he removed his fingers and wiped them down the toy leaving my wetness there without hesitation he pressed it against me watching for my reaction I just tried to avoid his eyes, to which he smirked and pushed it as deep inside me as it could go making me squeal in shock but even louder as the moment it was hilt deep inside me he turned it on letting it vibrate on full inside me making me squeal trying to move from the pleasure but it impossible due to my ties which only admired him more watching me struggle "ohh yeah. You dirty dirty girl" he growled "fuck just let me watch you… ummm I wanna watch my princess cum" 

"Noo! I-"

"Oh I'll make you cum princess. Even if I have to force it out of you' he growled kissing down my chest and stomach until he reached my clit giving it soft kisses as the vibrator worked 

"Ahhh newt please ! No more!" I begged 

"You know what. I'm gonna have my fun. You wanna say your safe word scream. Until then" he smirked tugging off my panties balling them up and stuffing them in my mouth "fuck you look so hot" he growled "but let's really have some fun" he dorked getting a role of tape from his backpack he cut a few prices with his teeth using them to secure small vibrators against my nipples both of which he turned on leaving me compelletly at his Mercy I did my best not to moan or squeal trying constantly to struggle away which only made him chuckle he knew how close I was and smirked down at me "still? You won't cum princess. Hummm I know how to make you" he growled grabbing the magic wand immediately i panicked he settled it on my clit and taped the body of the wand to my floor "you ready princess?'

I shook my head in desperation but he turned it on low to start with but immediately it made me squirt and squeal feeling it's harsh intense pleasure "fuck. Look at you princess" he growled undoing his belt and pushing his pants down to take his hard cock in his hand jerking off over me as he watched me "uuugh… fuck. Princess. Uhh oh yeah squeal princess" he muttered as he watched me slowly but surely increasing the speed of the wand until I hit my orgasum squirting alot and arching my back, my eyes rolling back as I did but he didn't make It stop in fact he increase the wands speed leaving me to whine in my desperation but he didn't care still jerking himself off as he watched me biting his lip hard it didn't take me long already overstimulated to hit another even more intense orgasum tears now steaming down my cheeks and still he wouldn't make it stop until he suddenly snapped pulling the vibrator out of me and moved the wand away for a second I breathed in relief but he slipped inside me raw his head rolling back "oooh god yes. Yes! Uuughhhh fuck me, princess!" He groans loudly taking no time to start his aggressive intense thrusts I couldn't help rolling my head back feeling the pleasure of having him inside me "fuck! Princess! Uuuuuuuuuuughh I need you so bad! You feel so good." He moaned getting faster and faster more merciless every second "yes! Tighter! Fuck your pussy is heavenly princess!" He moaned I knew he was close and honestly I worried given how intense my own pleasure was until he grabbed the wand again still it back on my clit and setting it on full he held it there not allowing me an escape as he worked leaving me a screaming mess I spat out my panties fighting back tears 

"Newt please -"

"Just a little longer princess" he groans 

"I can't, no more please-"

"Just one more please princess!" He whines and meer seconds later I hit another my voice shredding as I did he let me ride it out turning the wand off and pulling out quickly I was confused why for a second as I got my breath but almost as soon as he pulled out I felt his seed spill across my stomach he turned everything off and leant against my bed "fuck. That was awesome"

"I don't know how I feel about it"

"You loved it" he smirked untiring my legs Letting me out from everything and I fixed myself up a little

"So"

"So?" He smirked 

"Ummmm" I smiled leaning on his shoulder

"Good girl" he Cooes playing with my hair "you like it? I wanted to give you your fantasy even if we had the safe word. So you could see if you really like it on a safe way. It's just me after all"

"Thanks newt"

"Do you like it?"

"I think so. With you"

"I like it too. With you" he smiled giving my lips a little kiss "did I really take your virginity? Or was that just part of the roleplay?"

"It's true"

"Ohh? Did you enjoy it?"

"Very much"

"Would you want to again?'

'so long as it's you. And maybe you know next me first"

"Fair enough,"

"Would you?'

"You want me to play your sexy intruder again you have only to ask my princess" he Cooes "my numbers in your phone I'll see you in class" he says giving me a kiss before he got up and sorted his stuff "I'll get out the way I came in" he says going to leave 

"Newt?"

"Yeah?'

I blushed and slipped what was left of my nightie off grabbing a little sundress from my laundry pile turning to have my back to face him

"Yeah?" He repeated a little puzzled but clearly happy he got to see me naked 

"Long train journey isn't it" I said glancing at him over my shoulder he smirked dropping his bag turning the light a little lower before closing the gap between us pressing himself against me in my little dress

"Humm it is princess. But I don't mind it being long and crowed of I get to be… pressed up against your sexy ass" he smirked grinding against me "now stay quiet princess or someone will hear you" he smirked grabbing my breasts