#about pretty much any fucking term that could describe me.

[inkskinned]

it is hard to explain without sounding vain or stupid - but the more attractive others find you, the more you're allowed to do. the easier your life is.

i have been on both sides of this. i am queer and cuban. i grew up poor. for a long time i didn't know "how" to dress - and i still don't. i make my sister pick out any important outfits. i have adhd in spades: i was never "cool and quiet", i was the weird kid who didn't understand how "normal" people behave. i was bullied so hard that the "social outcasts" wouldn't even talk to me.

i got my teeth straightened. i cut my hair and learned how to style it. i got into makeup. it didn't matter, at first, if i actually liked what i was doing - it mattered how people responded to it. like a magic trick; the right dress and winged eyeliner and suddenly i was no longer too weird for all of it. i could wear the ugly pokemon shirt and it was just "ironic" or a "cute interest."

when i am seen as pretty, people listen. they laugh at my jokes. they allow me to be weird and a little spacey. i can trust that if i need something, people will generally help me. privilege suddenly rushes in: pretty does buy things. pretty people get treated more gently.

i am the same ugly little girl, is the thing. still odd. still not-quite-fitting-in. still scrambling. still angry and afraid and full of bad things. of course it became my obsession. of course i stopped eating. i had seen, in real time, the exact way it could change my life - simply always be perfect, and things can be easy. people will "overlook" all the other things. i used to have panic attacks at the idea others would see me without makeup - what would they think? even for a simple friend hangout, i'd spend a few hours getting ready. after all, it seemed so obvious to me: these people liked me because i was pretty.

i worry about how much i'm being a bad activist: i understand that "pretty" is determined by white, het, cis, able-bodied hegemonies. if i was really an ally, wouldn't i rally against all of this? recently there's been a "clean girl" trend which copies latinx aesthetics: dark slicked-back hair, hoop earrings. i almost never wear my hair like that; i can hear the middle school guidance counsellor advising me that i might fare better if i toned it down on the culture.

the problem is that i can take pretty on and off. that i have seen how different my life is on a day where i try and a day where i don't. i told my therapist i want to believe the difference is confidence, but it's not. and when you have seen it, you can't unsee it. it lives inside your brain. it rots there; taunting. i get rewarded for following the rules. i am punished for breaking them. end of story.

pretty people can get what they want. pretty people can feel confident without others asking where they got their nerve from. pretty people can be weird and different. pretty people get to have emotions; it's different when they get aggressive, it's pretty when they cry with frustration.

of course people care about this. of course it has crawled into you. of course you want to be seen as attractive. it's not vanity: it's self-preservation.

#pretty in this post is a stand in for . literally all forms of normativity #warm up #tbd maybe idk #ps! hi!! i'm queer!!!!!!!!! it is how i identify! if you tag this 'q slur' i will fight you!!! #i am using it here in the EXACT way it is NOT a slur !! i am identifying as a queer person! #this is EXACTLY how people reclaim it !!! #it's like practically ACADEMIC in this usage!! #please do any reading into what the fuck the history of the word ''queer'' is before telling me #as someone identifying as queer #that i'm a slur. that the place i find comfort in is a slur #''well it makes me uncomfortable if people use it for me'' #im sorry to hear that dude. that sucks. i hope things get easier for you soon #but you don't get to take it from ME #in case you can't tell by the REST of this piece #i DID hear queer used as slur against me. i DID get bullied with it. i DID hear a lot of shit said #i also heard it about lesbians #about ''being gay'' #about pretty much any fucking term that could describe me. #i like queer. i like how it feels. and it's mine. #you don't get to undo the work i've done personally because it makes u uncomfortable #it's ahistoric to pretend like there are ''safe'' ways to identitfy if ur queer. #none exist. it has never been safe to be like this.

[ssweetleaf]

just like heaven.

| part ii |

pairing— best friend’s brother!steve harrington x fem!reader

♡ summary— steve overhears about your disappointing sex life, but soon starts to imagine how good he could make you feel if only you were with him. (based off this ask)

♡ includes— SMUT 18+, male masturbation, kind of perv!steve, praise, breeding kink, basically stevie fucks his fist thinking about you and gets caught in the act, no specific pronouns used, and no use of y/n, i know some people don’t like that, (i gave steve’s sister a name to make the whole thing a bit easier!)

let me know if you’d like a part two! <3

˖ ࣪⭑

Steve was insatiable; hard as a fucking rock ever since he heard you, on your best friend’s bed, fingers flipping through a cosmo mag and smacking on your cherry gum, completely unaware that King Steve himself was eavesdropping on your rather private conversation.

He didn’t mean to listen in, honest, he was just on his way to the bathroom that just so happened to be next to his sister’s room, the door cracked open ever so slightly, just enough so he could see you on your stomach, ankles crossed and swinging behind you.

“It’s just so disappointing, yknow?” You huffed, eyes narrowing when it caught sight of a certain article on page seventeen about spicing things up in the bedroom. “It’s basically non-existent!”

Tiffany sighed, and his brows started to furrow, trying to get a clue on what they were talking about— slowly creeping closer to their door.

“Babe, it can’t be that bad. What happened to that guy that took you out?” She hummed, trying to think of his name, yet seeming to fall short, the boy completely blanked from her mind.

You groaned, pressing your cheek against your folded arms— and if he craned his neck just a little, he’d be able to see the way your puffy folds sucked up the material of your sleep shorts, riding higher and higher up your thighs each time you kicked your legs.

Oh fuck, he was totally perving…

“Don’t even bother— he was so- so-” you grumbled, huffing at the thought of him before finding the right term to describe that son of a bitch. “Self-absorbed.”

Steve arched a brow, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, the sight before him, all cutesy and whiny, it was enough to have his cock rutting up.

“Come on, babe. Spill the beans, I wanna know what happened.”

You sighed, fighting the urge to hide your face in your hands, before flipping the magazine shut.

“He was just selfish, Tiff- he wanted me to do all the work, didn’t even get me ready just kissed me a little.” You scoffed, recounting the memories and his stupid smirk, “and worst of all, he’s a head pusher- way too forceful, shoved it right down my throat without any warning!”

“Oh my god,” Tiff rolled her eyes, nostrils flaring and she didn’t even know the guy. “What a dick!”

“I know,” you spoke, picking at the remnants of your chipped nail polish, “this is why my sex life is so disappointing.”

˖ ࣪⭑

Steve gnawed at his cheek, traipsing back into his bedroom and kicking the door shut, not even bothering to use the bathroom after— not that he really needed to anyway…

Laying back on his bed, the cool sheets squished beneath him, he thought about you— your pretty thighs and the way they squeezed together mindlessly, the soft fat of your hips from underneath your shorts and the curve of your tits that begged to pop out from your too-small tank top.

You were a total babe, so fucking pretty, and so sweet too, he couldn’t wrap his head around how someone like you had a sex life that was so boring.

I could change that, he thought, fuck, his cock throbbed at the thought. He could take care of you, make you feel better than any of those losers you had been with, sating you on his big cock until you were all dumb and tuckered out.

The thoughts he had were swirling around his brain in a constant tizzy, so much so, he hadn’t even realised he had slipped a hand under his briefs, only realising once it started to leak in his palm, pre-cum staining the material and sticking to his skin.

You were on his mind, your tits, your ass, your pretty thighs- it had him hard as a rock, starting to buck into his own hand, teeth clutching at his lips to stifle his groans— after all, the walls were thin, and there was only one that separated Steve’s room from his sister’s.

He wanted to tease himself, pretend it was you that was teasing him with your pretty fingers— trailing his fingertips along his shaft, running up along the thick vein underneath it before swiping a thumb over his mushroomed tip, all swollen and sensitive, leaking even more now he had his hands on himself.

He sucked that same thumb into his mouth, the salty tang of his arousal on his tongue and the sudden image of his face between your thighs, licking up at your slick pussy and suckling at your peaked clit had his hips bucking.

“Fuck—” he gasped, breath hitching in his throat, sweat already ebbing at his hairline and beginning to slip, cheeks all rosey and flushed, all from the thought of you, you, you.

“Drive me fuckin’ crazy, honey-” he was muttering to himself, squeezing his eyes closed and rolling his balls in his palm, playing with him just how he imagined you’d play with them. “wish you were all mine.”

Steve’s fist was tight around his cock, fingers squeezing and pumping it. Up and down, up and down— groaning out into the stuffy air when he thought about your hands stroking at him, fingers barely managing to reach round.

He was leaking, tip bubblegum pink and glistening with pearly beads of pre-cum, dribbling down his shaft and oozing between his fingers, lubing up his cock so nicely— fuck, he thought about your mouth, suckling on him, getting him nice and wet, drooling all over his balls, making a real mess— oh fuckfuckfuck.

“Jus’ wanna fuck you,” he muttered into the air, wishing you could hear him, watch him, “could treat you so well- would spoil you so good.”

He was whining, high and breathy into the stuffy bedroom air, the slick sounds with each jerk were so loud, but he was so pussy-drunk, dumb from the constant swirly thoughts of you, big love hearts pumping in his eyes, he couldn’t find it in him to really care about how loud he was starting to get.

He started to slow down, he had to, already so close to coming, he took his fist away and swirled his fingertips along his cock-head, watching the way his muscles clenched with hooded and hazy eyes.

Steve thought about you on his bed, underneath him, letting him fuck you into the mattress, muttering pretty praises into your sweet skin— licking and sucking at your neck all the while his fat cock punched into your gummy walls and nudged at that special spot so deep inside.

“Bet you’d be such a good girl.” he sighed, starting to stroke himself once again, but much slower than before. “jus’ wanna- fuck— wanna fill you up with my cum, get you all messy and- shit— give you my fuckin’ babies.”

Oh fuck, picturing you all pregnant, tummy all swollen, letting him fuck you from behind while you both lay on your sides, oh god, he was in too deep, but he couldn’t help it. You’d look so fucking pretty all pregnant with his babies— all full of his cum.

His hips stuttered, thighs tensed and his cock twitched, he was so close, so, so close, bottom lip clutched between his teeth, fist squeezing down and shaking from the stimulation.

“G-gonna cum, oh Christ, gonna fucking’ cum!”

He chased his high, jaw slack and mouth agape while long, hot ropes of his sticky cum painted his stomach and thighs, crying out a mixture of your name and a few curses and he swore he hadn’t came as hard before as he did then.

And it all would’ve been fine— he would’ve settled and cleaned up and just went to bed with a little secret in the back of his mind, though the sight of you stood there when his eyes fluttered open— eyes all glassy and lips in a pout, thighs clenching and a cute little wet spot saturating your shorts… oh no.

“I-I can explain!”

⋆˙⟡♡ inbox me eddie and steve stuff ! ♡⟡˙ ⋆

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fic #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n

[judebelle]

Comforting gavi bc of his injury 🥹

it'll be okay - p.g. x reader

a/n : couldn't find a gif of him in the spain vs georgia match but gavi get well soon!

cw : fluff, angst, pablo in pain, injury, poor medical references, me using my limited knowledge of acl injuries lmao, reader not knowing how to comfort him, swearing, barely edited

wc : 1.6k

pairing : pablo gavi x fem!reader

---

the one game.

the one game you couldn't make it to was the one game that you needed to be at the most.

your boyfriend, pablo gavi, was playing for spain in a euro qualifier. you had an exam that day, so you couldn't be there to support him.

"no te preocupes, baby. good luck on your exam." (don't worry, baby. good luck on your exam.)

that was the last text your boyfriend sent you after you apologized again for not being there for him, even though you were already right outside your exam room.

with his reassurance, you stepped into the room and tried your best on the exam.

you weren't sure as to why pablo had to start for this match. spain had already qualified and he was already overworked as it was, but you didn't question his coach and managers and just brushed it under the rug.

unbeknownst to you, pablo had suffered an injury during the match. as you completed your exam, unaware of the events unfolding on the field, pablo battled through the game with determination. eventually, the fatigue took its toll, and he found himself nursing an injury that would later reveal itself as a full tear of his acl as well as an associated injury to his lateral meniscus.

your absence from the game meant that the news of his injury remained hidden from you, leaving you unsuspecting of the challenges he faced without your support.

you exited the exam hall, confident that your relentless studying had paid off. you opened your phone, intending to message pablo about your exam. you completely forgot about his match until you saw a ridiculous amount of notifications on your lock screen. as you scrolled, your heart sank upon discovering the news. shock and concern shook you as you read the details of your boyfriend's injury.

many reports outlined the severity of the situation, describing how pablo had most likely torn his acl during the match. a wave of guilt and empathy washed over you as you absorbed the gravity of the news. instantly, you dialed pablo's number, desperate to speak with him.

your heart sank at the monotone beeps that met your ear. stupid idea, he wasn't going to pick up the phone when his whole fucking knee was messed up. you realized that you were too far from the stadium to rush over there, so you sent him a few texts notifying him of your knowledge of the situation and made your way to your shared home.

---

you knew that there was not much you could do in terms of helping with the injury. all you knew was that pablo will be gutted when he gets back. you weren't an expert, but you saw the clip of the injury and the tears that spilled from his eyes. this was a serious injury and he would have to sacrifice a good chunk of the season recovering.

that's when a guilty feeling settled in your chest. you would've no doubt, skipped your exam to be there had you miraculously known what was in store for him. maybe if you were in the stands, you would've been able to see if he was okay and talk to him.

as you entered the house, you hurriedly kicked off your shoes and washed your hands, getting the house as comfortable for him as possible. you fixed up the bed, put a few ice packs in the freezer, and started making his comfort foods.

being an athlete means that pablo is always on a pretty strict diet, but you snuck in a few treats in his bed side drawer because you knew he'd need them.

after what seemed like an eternity of waiting and anxious preparing, you finally heard buzzing from your phone.

"hello? pablo?"

you heard a pained grunt and some shuffling before he strained out,

"y/n.."

"oh, thank god you're okay! what's happening? any updates yet? when are you coming home?"

pablo interrupted your rambling with a soft laugh, almost forced, before speaking. "despacio, mi amor," (slowly, my love.)

you pause your tangent, freezing in place and waiting for him to say something. you're about to start speaking again when you hear the front door start to open pablo's voice on the phone.

"i'm home."

---

two men walked beside him in case he needed assistance walking through the front door, but he was more than capable on his crutches. you dropped the phone from your hand as you saw pablo walking in from your place in the kitchen. you rushed over and he sent you a tight lipped smile. he told the two men that they're good to leave, and they did.

you finally walked closer to him, wanting to throw yourself onto him but stopping once you remembered his condition. you huffed in annoyance before ultimately pushing your lips against his fiercely, but not too hard.

he kissed back, but couldn't wrap his arms around you as he needed to hold his crutches to stand. you broke away and looked down at his knee. he was wearing a grey tracksuit, but you could see something under his pants on his left knee, most likely a brace of some sort.

"pablo, you have no idea how confused i am.. what happened? tell me everything!" you led him to the kitchen while walking beside him incase he needed help. he begins to fill you in on how he was challenged during the match and he didn't quite turn right, and his knee was already hurting from the beginning of the match, but they told him to play on.

"they ran some tests. i don't know what the results are yet, but they're quite sure that i completely tore my acl and injured my meniscus. if they're right.. i could be out for around nine months. my season is done.."

you had no idea what exact muscles and tissues and bones pablo was naming, but yo knew that acl injuries were no joke, and needed to be taken seriously. also knowing pablo, he plays passionately and has had a great season so far. the fact that it's being cut short is not fair to him.

nothing is.

"ai.." you hissed sympathetically "well, i don't know much about acl's, but i do know that you need to rest properly. and you being the stubborn man that you are, i will be here to make sure you do exactly that, okay?"

you didn't give him time to respond before placing some plates and bowls on a tray and taking them upstairs, telling pablo to stay put. you hurried back downstairs before helping up the stairs, letting him use the crutches as well.

after a few minutes, he was upstairs and into bed. you sat beside him on the bed, his head turning when he felt it dip.

"i smell food.." he smiles sheepishly as you giggled. he must've been hungry after the match. you lifted the tray from the table beside you and placed it beside him. you placed a pillow under his head, making sure he was sitting slightly upright.

you sat crisscrossed beside him and took a spoonful of a soup you made him, blowing lightly as you smiled at him. he was waiting patiently while looking up at you. you brought the spoon to his lips and tilted so he could sip. you did this until the bowl was empty.

pablo, once again being the stubborn man he is, tried to tell you that he didn't need all the fuss, and that you could relax. well, you were even more stubborn. you let him sip water through a straw before turning on his favorite show on low volume on the tv.

"baby, i don't need all this-"

"shh, just relax, cariño. let me take care of you.."

you layed beside him and moved his head to lay slightly on your chest, his eyes still fixed on the sreen.

you had propped up his right leg, under a spare pillow, making sure to keep an eye on it. the doctors would be doing frequent visits and you were determined to make his healing process as smooth as possible.

"you really are an angel, you know that, y/n?" he looked up at you, the glare from the tv shining in his brown eyes.

"you've only told me that a hundred times, guapo." you leaned down to place a soft kiss on his forehead.

he hummed softly at the contact, needing the relief.

"i just... i wish i didn't have to miss the whole season. i was doing really well.. it's not fair."

"i know it isn't, pablo. if you ask me, you shouldn't have been starting that match. you need your rest, you're still young."

he huffed in annoyance, letting out all his frustration.

the room fell silent, the faint sounds of the show you had turned on filling the air.

"y/n..?" he whispered gently. he sounded nervous.

you hummed in response.

"what if - when i return - i'm not in the same shape that i was.. what if i can't play well anymore?"

his words broke your heart. he shouldn't have to worry about this at his age. you sighed softly, your hand running through his soft locks. his eyes fluttered shut. he always liked when you did that.

"you won't have to worry, baby. as long as you rest properly, and take it easy, you will be fine. the more you worry, the worse it will get. just.. just let me take care of you. everything will be okay. it will fall into place."

his lips stretched into a soft smile, your words calming him. your hand was still running through his hair, making pablo's adam's apple bob up and down.

"i love you." he whispered, his eyes opening to look into your eyes as he said it.

you bit your lip and smiled softly.

he looked so cute.

"i love you too."

you pressed your lips to his again before leaning into each others warmth.

you both drifted off to sleep.

#pablo gavi #pablo gavi fanfic #pablo gavi smut #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi smut x reader #pablo gavi fluff x reader #pablo gavi fluff #pablo gavi angst #pablo gavi angst x reader #pablo gavi fanfiction #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi x you #pablo gavi imagine #fanfic #fanfiction #football x reader #football #neybelle #fem!reader #football smut #smut #angst #football fanfic #football oneshot #football fanficiton #fluff #football fluff #judebelle

[mummydommythe3rd]

BLACKMAILED PART 1/3

I watched the latest video you sent me and laughed as I typed out my response.

"Good! That's enough practice! Now altogether! Do a curtsey, showing the bulk of your diaper, say 'Oh, I have to make poopies!', crouch down, and then smile into the camera and say 'Making Poopies make me so horny!' Then you can release your enema. God it? Go!"

A few minutes later I got the perfect video back. I had to hold back a laugh as I watched you humiliate yourself.

I hadn't even meant for it to go this far, but you were so gullible and easy to convince. When I first saw your profile on that kink site, and saw that one of your listed kinks was 'blackmail'...the plan had been growing and taking shape in my mind.

I messaged you and you informed me that you wanted to be blackmailed into doing all kinds of sexy things, whatever I wanted. Luckily for me 'sexy' is a very broad term that can describe many things to lots of people...including diapers.

The first thing I did was ask you your address and the numbers of a few people close to you. After all, is it even a blackmail kink if there's no danger?

After that, the tasks started easily enough. 'go suck your dildo and send me the video.' then it was 'wear a pair of panties'. It was somewhat of a challenge since you were still living at home, but soon I had you jerking off in your 'borrowed' panties, and fucking yourself with increasingly larger dildos.

Then I sent you your first package of diapers. You tried to rebel, you said this was too far...but I just responded with: "lol, stop fussing and go put on your diaper... Unless you want your mom to watch a fun video of you licking your jizz from her panties." You, of course, crumbled like a ball of dry sand.

From there it only got worse and worse for you. DIapers, latex dresses, all kinds of gags and restraints. I could just picture you panicking and rushing to beat your family to snatch away a package and sequester it away in your room before anyone else could notice the many packages you were receiving.

Last week though, I got drunk and decided to message you something I would have never sent sober.

"Blackmailing you under social pressure is getting kind of old. Wouldn't legal pressure be so much more fun? Why don't you go do a crime for me. That way I know you'll always be mine."

"WHAT?! I CAN'T DO THAT!" you responded immediately.

"You have 48 hours to get me ten grand from your work or I'll send all your videos to your parents, your friends, and everyone else you've ever met."

the three dots showed you typing something, but I just turned off my computer and went to bed. To be honest I completely forgot about it. I was so drunk that my memories of the night were pretty hazy. The app we used didn't allow screenshots, and the texts were automatically deleted within an hour, so how was I supposed to remember? The only evidence of any of our interactions was the large folder of videos and pictures you'd sent me.

My memory only came back when you texted me again "I have the money. Management is pissed AF but they have no idea who did it. Please don't make me do that again!"

I immediately remembered everything and why I wanted you to get that money. I was just shocked that you'd actually gotten it!

"That's great baby! Now send me a video admitting to the theft. Tell the camera how you stole it because you were thinking of all the pretty diapers and dildos that much money could buy. Be cute! Girly! Bubbly!"

You left the message on read for a while. I could picture you anxiously pacing your room, freaking out at how far this had all gone.

"You have two minutes for a convincing confession...or your family and friends are going to learn a lot about you very quickly."

The video came soon after. As I'd trained you, you burbled and smiled like a ditzy baby-bimbo, describing the sizes and pretty colors of diapers you could get, and how you could now get all the dildos you could ever want. More crucially, you admitted to the theft, and even showed the money you'd taken.

All of that had led up to now. I smiled as I watched your latest video with the volume muted. your face was childishly wrinkled as you filled your diaper with the massive enema.

I almost didn't send the next message. It was almost too mean, but I couldn't resist. I had to see how far this could go.

"Good girl! Now, dressed just as you are, I want you to walk into whatever room your family is in right now."

"BUT I'VE DONE EVERYTHING YOU ASKED!!" you screamed via text.

"I'm not sending them anything!" I stated.

"WHY! PLEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING!"

"You sure will! 😂 you're going to walk in there and admit to being a pathetic little baby, and you're going to beg on your hands and knees that they convert your bedroom into a nursery."

"I CAN'T DO THAT!"

"Sure you can. Beg, cry, and scream like a toddler if you have to...I have a feeling you'll be crying anyway, so you might as well use it to get your nursery."

You started to type something multiple times, but there was nothing to say, so I sent another message.

"You're going to show them that money. You're going to tell them you saved up all of it just for this nursery. Show them pictures of other adult baby nurseries. Babble excitedly about cribs, changing tables, high chairs, dresses, dollies, stuffies...THE WORKS! You're to insist on 24/7 diapers and chastity because you just can't resist blowing your little loads into your pampers. Maybe later when you're desperate you can beg your sister-in-law to hook you up with a bull and let a real man fuck you."

"PLEASE NO! PLEASE I'M BEGGING YOU!"

"You're going to do it all, or everyone gets everything. In addition to being outed as a Huggies-humping little pervert, you'll be a felon. There's really no choice at all for you, is there?"

"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!"

"I believe everyone should live their honest true lives. You're a pathetic baby-dicked little pervert, and now you get to live like it!"

"I CAN'T!"

"Start a video recording on your phone, then put it in your pocket. Walk into the living room and tell them everything about the life you need. after you send that video tonight, I'll break contact with you for a while.

"You'll be done with me? Really?

"For a bit. Just to give you and your family some time. In a month I'll give you a call. If your phone is disconnected, I'll call your mom and pretend to be an old school friend."

"Why?!"

"To make sure you did your job. If you're not living full-time in a nursery as I've already described, I'll release everything, and you can be a baby in prison instead of a baby with your family."

There was no way out. You knew it. I knew it. There was nothing you could do or say. Even if you only asked for some of the babyish things, I'd eventually be told the truth. Your life was starting over right now, and you had to come to terms with it.

"They'll kick me out of the house! They won't do any of that stuff you want!" You whined.

"You'd be surprised. I bet at least one family member will take great interest in aiding with your transformation."

"My step-sister, maybe, but she hates me! She'll make my life an utter nightmare! Please! What if I do something else even MORE Embarrassing?!?" You begged.

"Good luck. Make sure you ask for hormones too. Time for you to upgrade from those cheap breast forms." I responded curtly, and then turned off my laptop.

I knew what you were doing. You were toddling back and forth in your soiled diaper, cursing me, cursing yourself, wondering how you could have been so stupid, trying to find the nonexistent way out of your literal and figurative mess.

I watched the movie playing on the living room TV and waited.

You walked into the room. Immediately, Mom and my Step-dad looked at you and burst into laughter. I joined them. You didn't notice that my laugh was borne from victory as much as amusement. My mom and your dad both thought this was some prank or joke...some dare that you'd lost. My mom laughed until she was crying while you just stood there, fidgeting and looking at the floor.

You squished forward wincing as the dress squeaked and rustled with your every move.

"Hey step-bro, you've never looked better! It fits you!" I laughed.

You shot me a dirty hate-filled look, then turned to the parents. Your face was bright cherry-red; far redder than I'd ever seen before.

"D-dad....Mom....There's, um, well. Something I need to tell you."

You looked at me with a dagger-laden glance before adding "In private!"

[iamjacksragingboner]

Thinking about much too overbearing Soap again.

Word count: 1.4K

Warnings: Light NSFW, no smut, slightly obsessive Soap, very much not proofread

A/N: Not too sure what this is, I haven't actually written anything in a while so this is just me getting back into it. Let me know if you have any ideas for where else this could go, but at the moment this is kinda just a standalone thing.

Part Two

Johnny is on military leave for whatever reason, and he needs some sort of purpose to fill his endless days with nothing to do. Hence, he practically lunges at the opportunity to help his pretty neighbour when he’s brought out of his apartment by the sound of metallic clanging on the door next to his.

Peeking his head out, he sees you struggling through the heavy door whilst trying, in vain really, to keep your foot off the ground with some too-tall crutches. What goes through his head in a millionth of a second can only really be described as misplaced eagerness to take care of you. Sure, he wants to help out and make sure you’re alright, to hover around you and fulfil your every waking need and desire while you heal, but he has his own rather dubious desires as well that he’d like to take care of. Fantasies—with you as the main focal point—that he’s spent plenty an evening fucking his fist imagining.

He’s by your side in a heartbeat, pushing the door open for you and grabbing the bag off your shoulder. “Here ye are, lass. Let me help ye with that- that’s it.”

As you breathe out way too many thank you’s and apologies that he insists aren’t necessary, he follows you into your apartment. Despite sharing many a hallway and elevator conversation, neither of you have ever set foot into each other’s apartments, keeping up that firm wall between friendly neighbours and friends.

Of course, that doesn’t mean Johnny hasn’t imagined what the inside of your apartment would look like, or what you fill your days and nights with. It’s cozy—lived-in would be a better term for it—dishes in the sink, a lumpy couch next to the window with a rather colourful and fuck ugly quilt strewn atop it. Your bed, much like his, was unmade, and there was a pile of unfolded clothes accumulating at the end of it. It was definitely a great deal more welcoming than his own sterile, almost untouched apartment.

"Sorry about the mess in here, it's just that with this broken foot, I haven't really been able to keep up with shit like cooking, and cleaning, and laundry, and groceries," you stopped to catch your breath. It sounded like the list could go on for a while, though Johnny had gathered that from the state of your apartment anyway. "Just set my bag down anywhere," you said finally, hobbling into the cluttered kitchen, "I'll get you a cup of tea or something."

Setting your bag down on the kitchen counter with a thud, Johnny stares at you with furrowed brows. “Weesht, ye’ll do nothin’ of the sort, bonnie. What ye will be doin’ is sitting yer behind on that couch and proppin’ that foot up- must be mighty painful."

Before you'd even had time to think about protesting, Johnny had already swiftly guided you to the couch and positioned you lengthways, with your foot idle on the armrest.

You were speechless for a grand total of three seconds before you were getting up to stop Johnny from digging through your pantry looking for teabags. “Really, Johnny, it’s no bother,” you exclaimed, hobbling over on your crutches and stepping between him and the pantry to dig out the teabags. “Let me put the kettle on to boil and I’ll wash up a mug for you in the meantime. You go and sit on the couch.”

How you ended up back on the couch with Johnny now washing all of your dishes with an unexplainable amount of enthusiasm evades you. Hell, he’d even managed to tuck you in, and was rambling on and on to himself as he scrubbed at a bit of muck in your bowl.

“I mean really, it’s no trouble at all. Ye just sit there and look like a proper bonnie lass and let me take care of a couple things around yer place. Clearly you need the help. Ye’ll pay me back eventually ‘m sure.”

Only once Johnny had washed and dried all of your dirty dishes, put your dirty laundry in the machine to wash and made you and himself a cup of tea did he sit down beside you on the couch, propping your feet on his lap as if you were much closer friends than you were.

"I don't know how to thank you, Johnny, really. You didn't have to go to all that effort- I would've sorted it out eventually."

Johnny merely laughs, it's a barking, hoarse sound that grates your ears but warms your chest all the same. "Aye, but isn't it much easier if I sort it out for ye now, as opposed to yer 'eventually?"

You supposed that made sense, and it wasn't exactly unpleasant to have a handsome, built and cheery Scottish man flitting around your apartment, helping where he could. Still, you could have done it yourself.

Lying in bed that night, there was little time to sleep for Johnny when he was much too busy thinking about you, the poor bonnie lass. With his ear pressed against the wall, listening to your faint movements, he fucked his fist in desperation, thinking about all he could do to take care of you.

Within twelve hours, Soap is back, bright eyed and bushy tailed, carrying in several bags of groceries, meals planned down to the crumb for the next three weeks. The second he's put them in the fridge, he's darting to fold your laundry as you hobble around him. He bats your hands away when you reach to fold your underwear yourself, face flushed red with embarrassment as he pulls out one of your nicer bras.

Within a week, he's already made a copy of the key to your apartment, although that's not something you need to know about. He'll only ever use it if he's sure you've injured yourself and can't get to the door, or if you're out and he wants to roll around in your bed, bathing in your scent and leaving his own.

You do happen to take a fall one day, although luckily he's there to catch you, as he's been hovering around you like a fly any time you try to get up. He makes the decision then to stay the night, in case you want to make any trips to the bathroom and take a tumble in the dark.

When you offer him your bed to sleep in, he happily accepts, but the minute you begin to turn your couch into a makeshift bed for yourself, the face he pulls is not too far from a kicked puppy. He was, of course, under the impression that he'd be sharing your single bed with you, and you can't blame a man for being a little disappointed when he finds out that's not the case.

"Come on, bonnie," he all but pleads, "we don't want ye hurtin' yer foot layin' on that lumpy old thing. There's enough room for the two of us in yer bed, don't ye think?"

Despite being a little put off by Johnny calling your beloved couch old and lumpy (worn and well loved, you would say), you relent, and decide to share the bed with Johnny, under strict rules of course. "Don't try and cuddle me, don't get all up in my business, don't steal the blankets and above all else, don't touch anywhere you shouldn't be touching."

Johnny responds enthusiastically—which should've been a warning in itself that he hadn't heard a word you said—and practically leaps into the bed, patting the spot next to him with a dog-like grin.

You climb in a little hesitantly and settle down to sleep, under the impression that Johnny will obey these simple rules. The minute you feel a heavy arm slump over your waist and an even heavier leg hanging limp over your own, essentially trapping you against his form, do you realise that he had not, in fact, ever intended to follow your rules. The little grunting snores he would let out gave you some reassurance that he at least wasn't doing this consciously, even as his hands found their way across your chest and down your torso, even as his lips that were pressed against your shoulder stretched into a canine grin.

#soap x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap call of duty #soap cod #soap mw2 #john mactavish #johnny mactavish

[aziraphales-library]

Helloooooo again! Hope you are doing well! I have a request for some fics and I was wondering if you happen to know if there are any where Aziraphale and Crowley get married in Vegas after a drunk night (this is a very specific niche so if you can’t find any that is perfectly ok!) and it doesn’t even have to be in Vegas, just accidental marriage fics are cool too. Thank you!

Hi! Here are some drunken Las Vegas marriage fics...

to have and to hold, probably by seventhstar (G)

They have long, drawn out arguments about this, if they can even be termed arguments; onlookers inevitably describe their tone of voice as 'fond' and their mode of communication as 'bickering'. The wine is passed back and forth between them. Marriage, Aziraphale argues, is divine. It's about love. It's about making promises, and keeping them. It's about faith and hope and devotion. Marriage, Crowley replies, is infernal. It gives two people who love each other endless opportunities to ruin it. It's about power and money and pain; it's caused more evil than it ever has good. Or, the one where they get drunk married in Las Vegas.

Waking Up In Vegas by Supergeek21 (T)

Crowley and Aziraphale wake up hungover after a night out in Vegas.

Ouroboros by FriendOfLoki (T)

“We should get married!” Crowley blurts out. His face is burning the moment the words leave his mouth and enter into the night. He’s not quite sure how he got here. Or, the story of how Aziraphale and Crowley drunkenly marry each other one night in Las Vegas.

Oops! by Mimsynims (E)

This must be a dream. A fantastic, soul-crushing dream. That’s the only explanation. Right? “Aziraphale, did you hear me?” Bugger. Not a dream. “Pardon, what was that?” Aziraphale reluctantly dragged his eyes from the simple yet perfect ring on his left hand. A ring that matched the one on Crowley’s left hand. His friend, Crowley. Best friends Aziraphale and Crowley are on holiday in Las Vegas. After a getting a bit too drunk the night before, they wake up with wedding rings on their fingers. Sounds like it should be easily dealt with, or is it..?

Veni Vino Vegas (I Came, I Got Drunk, I Got Married) by A_N_D (T)

After a whirlwind drunken evening, author Az Fell came home from Rom-Con without his heirloom pinkie ring – but with a wedding license from a 24-hour Las Vegas chapel. Elsewhere, book fan Tony Crowley woke up with a hangover, vague memories, and a brand new ring he’s only seen in author photos. Mutually attracted, mutually terrified the other one thinks it was all a regrettable mistake, they turn to their dear but anonymous online friend to vent and ask for advice. …Maybe they should tell each other their screennames someday.

Waking Up Married by Caedmon (E)

"So you’re telling me that my options are either to convince this man I just met and drunkenly married to stay married to me for six months or lose two thirds of a billion pounds?” “That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” Fergus said. “Fucking shit,” Crowley spat. He hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment before rubbing his eyes with his fists. Now his job would be twice as hard. He needed to talk Aziraphale into staying married for six months. Should he try begging or bribing? This was a huge ask, and Aziraphale would be well within his rights to tell Crowley to fuck off. But Crowley was prepared to offer him pretty much anything, up to half of the trust, if that’s what it took. He didn’t care. But that was only part of his concern. Even if he got insanely lucky and Aziraphale agreed to stay legally married to him for the next six months, how the hell was he going to talk Aziraphale into dating him during that time? And was it foolish to even try? One thing at a time, he decided. First, he needed to convince Aziraphale to stay legally married to him. Then he could set about wooing his husband. He hoped.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #accidental marriage #drinking #alcohol #las vegas wedding #mod d

[mhathotfic]

Alright so this is a short little test of this theory. The answer is yeah, I can definitely work with this.

Warnings: pseudocest, under aged drinking mentioned briefly, mentioned death of readers mother, fem afab reader, vaginal sex describe, no prep mentioned, cream pie, daddy kink, breeding kink, age gap of 20 years

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x reader

He’s not sure of how it started, he was pretty drunk and grief stricken, and so was she. It must’ve just sorta happened.

She was only eighteen then, having to bury your mother at any age is difficult, but eighteen ?. The same age her mother was when she had her, and now eighteen years later and she was gone far too early.

Bakugou would have done anything for his stepdaughter to not have to feel that pain. He just didn’t expect it to be that.

And yet he, a thirty-eight year old man at the time, woke up stark naked next to his stepdaughter, something that the wordless agreed to never bring up again afterwards.

So you can imagine his shock when they end up in a similar situation, perfectly sober now just two years later.

It was just supposed to be a reunion for his late wife’s death date. How did they end up in his bed? How could he let himself lust for her daughter?

Well, it helped that she looks like her father and that by the time he came around she was living full time with him. He never knew why, didn’t want to pry, but it certainly helped elevate some of the guilt. This wasn’t her daughter, he could easily pretend, wasn’t ever his stepdaughter. He could put that out of his mind and focus on her.

“We can stop if you want Daddy” she murmured with a sympathetic smile. It was jarring, an abrupt statement that must have been in response to his silence, but it was an empty gesture.

The use of that term, when she never called him that before.

The way she was splayed out, pussy on full display as if waiting for him to make a move.

In a way, it made this easier.

His wife was never so bold, it made it easier to convince himself this was some twenty year old stranger he was about to fuck.

“What? Think I’m some old man who can’t keep up?” he questioned as if he didn’t know her true reasoning, pressing her legs back against her chest as he lined himself up with her fluttering entrance.

He hated that he immediately thought about how much tighter she was in comparison.

“O-oh fuck! You’re so big Daddy!”.

Well that certainly distracts from his previous thoughts.

He hadn’t fucked like this in while, hadn’t felt the pleasures of a wet and hot and so damned tight pussy in ages.

And the fact that the pretty little angel it belonged to was keening and moaning for him, well It drove him insane.

He had tried to be gentle, but he couldn’t help himself from fucking into her like an animal.

Feeding off her pleasured cries and begging for him to ruin her little cunt. He was obsessed.

“You’re gonna make Daddy fall in love with ya precious little pussy”

He groaned and pulled out for a moment to flip her over and press her face into the pillows and pushed his way back in.

“Gonna let me breed this little cunt yea?”

He moaned into her ear, rutting with reckless abandon and savoring the drag of his cock threw her young twenty year old pussy and wondering why he ever held back.

He wasn’t around much, so he wasn’t technically a stepdad in that sense and with her mother gone, it wasn’t wrong for him to move on with her,was it?.

He was almost disgusted to find he didn’t really care. Not when she was cumming around him and pulling his own orgasm out of him.

#katsuki bakugou x reader smut #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader smut #katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader smut #tw pseudocest #tw age difference

[thelostgirl21]

I wish there was a way to clearly say:

I'm personally comfortable being called a "woman", only because I have the sexual dimorphism typically associated with a female of the human species, and that's how other people see me as when they look at my physical appearance; nothing more.

While making 100% sure not to accidentally bring any harm to the trans community, or making it sound like one's gender identity should always match their physical appearance, when that's far from being the case.

Because, until very recently, I'd always been calling myself "a girl", or "a woman" exclusively based on how I physically look.

To me, defining myself as "a woman", has always been the equivalent of describing an external characteristic of my body that others are able to see.

- I'm a woman.

- I'm 5'7''.

- I have brown eyes.

- etc.

It's always been exactly the same to me. It's what you can physically see, not who I am.

Somehow, it's like I completely forgot to develop a sense of personal identity tied to "being a woman" while I was growing up.

I could wake up tomorrow with a body that has the sexual dimorphism of a male of my species instead, have everyone call me a man and suddenly have to live my life as one, and I'd have only ONE problem with it.

Just the one.

My partner is a heterosexual man, so that would be a challenge.

But otherwise, I think I'd just be really curious to explore the physiological differences between my prior body and my new body, and then move on with my life without changing a single thing to the things I like, my behavior in general, personal interests, probably the way I like to dress, too, etc.

I'd just be "looking more masculine" while doing it.

It would be like having blonde short hair instead of my current brown long hair.

The rest of the world would treat me differently as a man, sure! But that wouldn't reflect how I identify or feel inside about who I am.

Just how others now see me as and choose to socially treat me.

My gender, to me, is something that's always existed outside of myself.

I have no personal use for it, nor is it a part of my personality.

I guess I've often been gender-non-conforming, too, not because I was attempting to rebel against my own gender, felt a need to distance myself from the binary, or anything... But just because I've never seen the point of it.

I've had boyfriends telling me that it was like I wanted to be the "man in the relationship", and being upset that I wasn't letting them play their role at times (that hasn't really been an issue with women, oddly enough); and I broke up with them without looking back, because what the fuck was that even supposed to mean?

I wasn't trying to behave like a man or a woman, I was just being myself, and adopting the social roles and behaviors I'm comfortable with. If you can't love me as I am, then what am I supposed to do?

Younger, I've had little boys back at school telling me that "it was weird for a girl to like certain things or express herself a certain way", and my response has always pretty much been to shrug, go "guess I'm a weird girl then", and then continue doing things my way.

(Yes, I'm aware that I've been very privileged to live in a world where I've merely been occasionally bullied or suffered verbal micro-agressions for ignoring the social standards set for "little girls"... Then again, I've probably embraced some of them!

I loved playing with my "He-Man and the Masters of the Universe set", or walking around with a lightsaber pretending to be Luke Skywalker... But I was cool with "My Little Poney" (the originals) and "Rainbow Bright", too!

Like I said, I wasn't trying to be "non-conforming", I just liked whatever I liked!

I was also lucky enough that my parents fully allowed me to go for what I enjoyed in terms of toys, games, activities, playmates, etc., regardless of gender.

And my physical appearance as a child occasionally had people mistaking me for a boy. So, perhaps, the other adults that saw me behave as one in public assumed I was one, and thus put less pressure on me to behave in a way that would have been deemed more "feminine" than "masculine".

By the point I really started looking more "feminine" (like I do now), I guess I'd moved past caring about it, and/or had reached a point where it made no sense to me that it would suddenly have been upsetting that I occasionally behaved "as a boy" or enjoyed "boy things" now when, until then, it had always been perfectly fine and well accepted that I did!

I guess there's something to be said about the influence of early socialisation, and how adults in the social environment of a child respond to a young child's gender, in the level of importance they might instinctively give to it later on.)

Like, I'm pretty sure that, if I were to ask you to determine my gender based on my looks alone (while fully giving you permission to do it), especially when I'm performing on stage wearing makeup, you'd go "you're a woman!" with a fair level of confidence!

But that's just it! To me that's just the way I look. A stylistic choice based on the way my body chose to develop, if you will.

What drives me nuts, though, is that I have zero problem empathizing with the trans community and their need to express their own gender identity, because I know what it feels like to need to be seen and respected as one's authentic self!

You tell me you identify as a woman, a man, agender, genderfae, etc., and/or feel a need to express it? Be yourself, and rock that gender! It is who you are, and it is your right to own it!

The fact that I feel like I don't have any particular use or need for gender doesn't mean that it can't be important for others, and that they don't have a use or need for it themselves.

Just because I don't intimately understand it, doesn't mean it doesn't exist or doesn't matter. It doesn't mean that I can't support, and actively advocate for proper gender recognition and respect in schools and other public places.

I "get it" without "getting it", if you will.

The problem, however, is that I am extremely uncomfortable with the idea that, if I identify as a "woman", people will assume that it means more to me than "I physically look female".

That it will be assumed that I emotionally and psychologically connect with my gender, and feel a need to express it, or a sense of attachment and belonging to the woman gender.

After having called the way my physical body "looks" to others on the outside "being a woman" for decades, it's hard for me to suddenly go "being a woman is not the same as passing for a woman, it's about the gender you identify with inside..." and stop calling myself a woman, because I feel like I've no gender identity inside of myself.

But "agender" doesn't quite feel right to me, either, because I'd never had any problem with the idea of being a woman, until I learned that I was supposed to give a damn about being a woman, and personally connect with my gender, that is.

And "gender non-conforming" doesn't sound quite right, either, because I'm not trying to avoid conforming to the woman gender, or expressing a different gender than the one that was assigned to me at birth.

They basically gave me a gender based on my genitalia when I was born, and I went "Yeah, sure! I guess I can look the part... Why not?"; while ignoring the whole social instructions booklet and guidelines that went with it.

So lately, every time someone has asked me what my gender is, or what gender I identify with, I've had a tendency to freeze, panic, and mentally go:

Like the idea of my having a gender makes no internal sense to me. It's not something I can relate to, "vibe with", or identify with.

Is there a way to respectfully say "I'm calling myself a woman for convenience's sake, because that's the gender traditionally associated with the way I look, and I'm okay with having grown into a feminine appearance by default? But please, don't assume it means anything to me beyond that, or expect me to behave, dress, or do anything according to the woman gender."

I've been using "gender apathetic" in an attempt to convey it, but is that really what it means, and how most people understand it?

Basically, I feel like my answers to these questions would be:

- What physical look do you most resemble? Woman / feminine / female.

- What gender do you identify with? None.

- Do you feel comfortable being called a woman, and her / she pronouns, based on the way you look? Yes.

How do you freaking call or define that?

Non-internalized cisgenderism?

#Gender theory #Non-internalized gender issues #Gender apathetic #Agender #Transgender #My posts #My thoughts #My very very confused thoughts re: whatever my gender identity is meant to be! #Hopefully none of what I've written will be perceived as dismissive or offensive. #I'm genuinely trying to figure out where I stand or fit in all of this... #Personal

[captorsicallfriends]

why pjo's portrayal of the greek gods is fucked up and how it's affected perceptions surrounding ancient Greece.

*breaks down the door to your inbox with an axe*

start talking now oh my god I want to hear your hot take so bad. I've been interested in religious studies (primarily the Hellenistic and early Roman religious atmosphere (of course acknowledging that the word religion is post-Enlightenment and conceives of supernatural belief as a subjective individual belief, which is inconsistent with how supernatural matters were dealt with in the Ancient world) and how they intersect with early Christianity and proto-Christianity) and I've been fascinated with the Greek gods and I need your hot take on why their portrayal is wrong and leads to incorrect assumptions about Ancient Greece.

oh you bet your bottom dollar i will talk about this. true to the post from which this originated, i will prep no material and all this is off the top of my head so don't quote me!

If you follow my Greek mythology sideblog, you'll know i am unequivocally a Zeus defender. Now I can make a million posts about Zeus alone but I will take a more holistic approach on the gods in general and the perception of Ancient Greece.

The West has been obsessed with Ancient Greece for centuries: the culture, philosophy, history, mythology, mathematical and scientific advancements, and much more. Now it's one thing to take interest in a country's history or a historical era; it is completely another to claim it as your own and make it an ideal state of life to achieve, because if you know literally anything about Ancient Greece, it was anything but. What I'm trying to say here is that Ancient Greek culture has been commodified, glorified, rewritten, and reclaimed by the West when it was never theirs to do so. I've often seen this sentiment expressed by Greeks about their homeland: "The history comes first, the people second." I think a prime modern example of this mindset was when same-sex marriage was legalised in Greece, which was a huge step forward for an Orthodox country with an extensive history of homophobia, but people outside of Greece began making jokes of Greece "returning to their own values" (referring to Ancient Greek practices of pederasty which is hugely problematic and not at all representative of any gay rights if you know what it entails) and people excited to "finally hold lesbian weddings in Lesbos" (signifying the West's perception of Greece as simply a tourist hotspot and not a country with an intricate history and culture). In short, Greece is already unfairly used for the West's agenda of glorification and attempts to build itself a culture that frankly isn't theirs at all.

Now, how does this involve pjo? A lot, my friends, a fucking lot. The publication and popularity of the Percy Jackson series has simply exacerbated all the aforementioned issues in this post. First off, the worldbuilding on which The Lightning Thief relied and the rest of the series ultimately holds is that "Olympus moves with the centre of Western power", which is just. Wow. There are a million things wrong with this concept that would need its own post, so I recommend this article called The Whitening Thief that essentially explains the white supremacy of it all. If you do not want to read the full article, the main premise is that the Percy Jackson series equates Westernism with civilisation and that without it there was "chaos and darkness", which as Paule describes it, is "sipping at a pretty racist cocktail".

note: I have realised how aggressively off-topic this is to the original statement I made, I'm getting there, I promise (although I did warn you it was something I could talk on for hours with little material)

Let's finally delve into the depiction of Greek gods in Percy Jackson. I'll actually start on a bit of a positive note that apart from the weird (for lack of a better term) comparisons of Hades to Adolf Hitler, the original Percy Jackson and the Olympians had some okay characterisation of the gods (I have some reservations about the goddesses on which I will elaborate later). They're prideful and neglectful parents (the myths actually contradict that latter part but I digress) but each with their own complexities and concerns. To use Zeus as an example because he's actually the god who falls short the most in terms of consistent characterisation in my opinion, he lets Percy live in TLT "for the sake of peace in [his] family", indicating a care and sense of duty for Olympus and for his fellow gods, and while he lets his pride and paranoia get the better of him at times, he is shown as a serious authority figure and someone who's trying to keep his realm together, and such characteristics wouldn't be too far off from his mythical counterpart.

But as the series progresses, either Rick got lazy or he attempted to further capitalise his work to make it more palpable, he turns the gods into caricatures by excessively inflating one characteristic they may have into their entire personalities. Returning to Zeus, his paranoia is amplified to an absurd extent that one can simply not fathom why the gods would be the better option than the Titans. As I said initially, he had bouts of paranoia that would be almost normal for someone with such a powerful position, but this is completely derailing any connection with his mythological counterpart, he may as well be an OC with the same name and title as him. To use other gods as an example because I promised a holistic approach and I have seemed to only talk about Zeus (sorry!), the writing of the goddesses Hera, Artemis, Aphrodite, and Athena is simply misogynistic. I'm sorry, there is no other way I can find myself to describe it. Typically feminine goddesses Hera and Aphrodite are extremely demonised and condemned for their flaky and vain attitude; Hera is the evil stepmother archetype and Aphrodite ultimately becomes weak and useless. The "virgin" (quotations referring to Athena) goddesses Artemis and Athena also don't seem to extend past superficial, unoriginal characteristics like being a vehement man-hater who kicked out two sapphics from the Hunt and a goddess who Rick stops at nothing to render her a horrible parent and person (using the Roman myth of Medusa, exaggerating her prideful nature, etc) respectively. And you cannot tell me they're not misogynistic portrayals because just a few minutes on pjo tiktok will show you just how many times Hera is referred to as a bitch (keep my wife's name out of your fucking mouth!!). Then there is TOA and COTG, which makes me want to cry just thinking about Zeus' portrayal there (yes we're going back there). The god who was consistently thought of as a gracious, protective saviour of the people in Ancient Greece (full list of epithets of Zeus, read at your leisure) is an abusive autocratic tyrant?

To go back onto the topic, how do Riordan's works affect the overall perception of Ancient Greece? Well, as I said before, it contributes to the white supremacist view of Ancient Greece as the epitome of civilisation and the glorification of the era, but it also turns Ancient Greece into a fandom to an extreme extent. Now, obviously, I'm not talking about people with a healthy obsession with Ancient Greek history and Mythology (myself included) who like to engage in content about it. I'm talking about people who claim Ancient Greece as an extension of Western, mostly American culture, and ultimately engage in a form of cultural appropriation that strips Greeks of their own history and narrative. This includes writing 'feminist' retellings of Greek myths, taking Riordan's (inaccurate) readings of the mythology as indisputable fact, and removing the myths from their historical and cultural context. People forget that much of these myths were stories written for entertainment and take them as a sort of Hellenic Bible (which delves into the Christianisation of Greek Mythology but that's a whole other post). In short, Westerners think they can do whatever the fuck they want with Greek mythology and Greek gods because they think it's theirs with which to play around, ultimately ignoring the country, history, and the culture from which they actually originate, and it's thanks to Rick Riordan that this attitude has blown up to an insane extent.

*sighs* Thank you for coming to my TedTalk and I seriously admire you if you made it this far.

#diya answers #i wrote all this instead of doing the pile of homework i have so yeah enjoy #sunset-telepath #rr crit

[melon-cream-enmu]

Repost from old blog (bringing this here for the sake of linking it in the mc spell induced heat smut that I’m working on)

Obey me dick headcanons!

Cw horse cock, monster cock, just lots of nonhuman cocks. Can be seen as teratophilia so avoid if you wish to. First person but I don’t describe myself, just use ‘I, me, my’ and the like. I do say I want Lucifer to make me his housewife, so a gendered term there. I am afab so thats what this includes. Also asmo has/can have a pussy in addition to his cock so if you don’t like that please avoid. Mention of piss in Satan’s, but not graphic

Belphie has a horse cock and I mean an actual horse cock

Is he a cow? Yeah I mean aesthetically so it wouldn’t be a horse but shut up and let me fantasize about him lazily softly rocking his hips as the fat flat tip pops wetly in and out of me before easing it into me. Already so overstimulated and have cum so many times, the first time he pulls out there’s creamy white cum on the dark base of his cock, or however far down I could go

Levis dick is three slick purple slime looking appendages all twisting together into one ‘cock’ but as he gets closer to coming the unfurl inside me and there’s very small suckers that clamp onto my walls and he can hardly pull out if he can at all, his cock wanting to stay in me as long as possible.

Beel…..oh beel….his cock🤤large round glowing knot near the base, full of eggs to be pumped into me….so much cum spurred into me in ways to fertilize those eggs. He worked me open with his tongue and fingers for hours in hopes of opening me up as much as possible. Cant decide if it would be actual fly mutant monster creatures or demon babies with cute fly like irises and lil wet scrumpled wings that need to dry and unfurl. Maybe mutant monster baby thingies when he’s not in his rut but when he is in his rut, I’ll be prepared to be extra round and heavy with lil cute babies. Or they don’t fertilize at all unless he’s in a rut, idk

Asmos dick…I can’t decide if I want it to be a pretty thing sculpted by the Greek gods…or armored like a scorpions tail…🤔… either way he has a pussy too, or can phase between his glorious sleek cock and a gorgeous pussy with the cutest softest patch of hair neatly groomed on his mound

Satan may also have a horse cock…cuz his thing…it’s…it’s a unicorn…I don’t headcannon him having a bumpy cat like cock like I’ve seen others headcannon. I have a very love/hate relationship with Satan, and that comes into play with my absolute turn off of heavy pet play and role play aspects, so I don’t really want to headcanon him with something so…domesticated? I also want him to hate fuck the piss outta me and degrade me for it, all while using it to wetly abuse my clit with his fingers. And gOD horse cocks just sound so yummy, that big massive tip popping in for the first time, god this man would have me crying and begging for more. And don’t get me started on how badly I want him to slap his long, thick, heavy as fuck cock on my pussy until my lips are all red and I can’t handle not having it in me any longer

Mammon I’m not sure about. Stuck between textured, tapered, and with white down feathers instead of pubes, or very human like with lots of cold piercings…I don’t know, but whatever it looks like he knows how to use it. He’s whiney and loving and sweet….looking very submissive and breedable my guy keep it up

Now Lucifer…his cock is….wow. It’s thick, long, heavy, very human, but absolutely gorgeous. That’s really all I can say about his. I just want him to fuck me and call me stupid and his stupid little human, too weak to survive on my own, has to marry me and make me his lil house wife and toy

Diavolo….also…has a horse cock….dontlookatme. I just can’t think of a demon prince having a human cock. But it’s so pretty. Not like Satan or belphies(who have dark bases but green and purple on the rest of the length respectively) diavolos is a dark base with the rest being his skin color.

Barbatos. I don’t think about him a lot? I don’t know I don’t hate him I don’t adore him he just exists as a good character. His dick/s like his tail, long, slim, wet, and split off into two at the tip

#obey me smut #cream om #lucifer x mc #mammon smut #leviathan smut #satan smut #asmodeus smut #beelzebub smut #belphegor smut #diavolo x mc #barbatos smut #cream filled

[fave-fight]

ROUND 1, MATCH 44

NO MAGIC, POWERS, WEAPONS, OR ADDITIONAL HELP FROM OTHERS

Chuuya Nakahara:

“He’s the top martial artist in the entire mafia (without using his ability), and on to of that he’s the most powerful ability user (that we know of) in Bungou Stray Dogs. If this is a normal fist fight, he could probably win without using his ability unless his opponent has some form of magic/supernatural assistance. And if they do, he could kill the pretty much instantly using his ability.  Also. I’d really like to see him win for once, because in BSD the author has to keep coming up with highly specific scenarios to justify why he’s not just wiping everyone out. Some of those scenarios include: 1) he’s just not there in the first place (he was canonically out of the country for the entire beginning of the series) 2)he gets trapped in the BSD-equivalent of an alternate dimension* (ie someplace you can’t just break out of with brute force) 3)the only guy he regularly fights has the ability to be immune to all abilities AND is the top strategist in BSD (and even so Chuuya still beats him in terms of combative skills) 4)fights that he’s about to win get interrupted by other things, causing both him and his opponent(s) to go “well I guess we could just stop fighting and call it a stalemate 🤷‍♂️  5) (spoilers for the current manga arc) he’s currently being mind controlled as a vampire (BSD vampires and the equivalent of other media’s zombies. They’re mindless or mind-controlled beings who go around biting people). He would have solved all the problems by now but the author was like “nope!” and yoinked away his free will and autonomy.  *for any BSD fans who wanna check me on calling Poe’s ability an alternate dimension, I mean in the same way other subspace-type abilities are “alternate dimensions” as Rimbaud described (counting Rimbaud, Poe, and Lucy for this type of ability), rather than referring to “alternate universes” as in Beast.”

Kevin:

“He has killed before and he will kill again. He is immune to the ol' "go for the eyes" trick some opponents might pull, because he doesn't HAVE eyes. He can still see just fine because he's granted Vision by the Smiling God. Despite the mention of his "smile knife" in the Mudstone Abyss arc, I think Kevin doesn't entirely NEED weapons because I fully believe he will bite anyone and not hold back. He'll rip a chunk off you if he has to, he'll go fucking apeshit. His whole motif is teeth and gore and devouring. And he'll be so upbeat and sunny the whole time. Now if he could GET a weapon, he would prefer that, but if he absolutely has to fight somebody unarmed, he could manage against the average person off the street. However, caught off-guard, he is easily defeated. There's a part in canon where he believes he's having a diplomatic discussion (it was actually pretty fucked up and evil but Kevin's sense of normalcy is hella skewed), and a (presumably human) character just suddenly grabs him and slams him through a portal. So it can be assumed that if someone lands an unexpected attack on Kevin, he'll get his ass kicked easy. Kevin is also probably not formally combat trained. Someone with actual fighting skills would probably beat him. He's just reliant on bizarre violence more than actual skill, in my opinion.”

“hes gods favorite freak. he wrote a whole freak bible about bugs and teeth. also he should get to bite people like that anon said”

#fight fight fight #round 1 #poll tournament #tournament poll #polls #poll #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs #kevin wtnv

[coupsie-daisies]

Kinktober '23: Exhibitionism + Voyeurism | Kim Hongjoong + Park Seonghwa

Pairing: Park Seonghwa x GN!Reader x Kim Hongjoong

Genre: Smut (minors DO NOT interact), Kinktober 2023

Summary: Hongjoong has the most pathetic obsession with his roommate's partner, and they aren't making it any easier to get over them. Little does he know, they love having his attention just as much as he loves giving it.

WC: 3.7k

Warnings: Reader is described as having a vulva and breasts but uses gender neutral pronouns and terms, Pervy Hongjoong (kinda pervy everyone), Reader wears the boys' clothes but their size isn't described, fingering, oral (reader receiving), cumshot, Seonghwa is kinda mean, exhibitionism and voyeurism obviously, Sir kink, barely mentioned dom/sub dynamics

A/N: If I forgot any warnings, please let me know. I am considering eventually doing a second part to this, let me know if you're interested. Kinktober and general tag lists are open

Tags: @dragonofthenorth0726 // @wooyussy // @burningupp-replies // @bunnypig18 // @decaffedthoughts // @brownieracha // @ferrethyun // @snow-pegasus // @walkxthexmoon // @aesteraceae // @wonuqrtz // @mixling-blog

Main Masterlist

Kinktober '23 Masterlist

This fanfiction is property of @/coupsie-daisies, reposting on any other platform is prohibited

Hongjoong was a filthy little pervert, and he knew it.

He really did try his best not to indulge himself like that, not to get turned on by the most embarrassing things or seek out just a hint of what it would be like to be in the room where it happened, but he had never been very good at shaking that particular vice.

You were Seonghwa's picture perfect partner. You were sweet and charming and always cleaned up after yourself when you stayed over. You would even bring baked goods or make lunch for the boys to take to work, always packing one for Hongjoong when you made Seonghwa's. You were an angel, and Hongjoong felt guiltier than ever about how badly he wanted to defile your innocence.

Seonghwa had been his best friend for years, they'd lived together for nearly a year and a half, and they'd always managed to work well together. But whenever Seonghwa brought you around, Hongjoong was hard to pin down. He was skittish, trying to avoid your gaze for fear that you could see right past his facade, but it only ended with him focusing on how pretty you looked in that little crop top Seonghwa had gotten you for your birthday. He didn't talk to you much, and he half worried that maybe you thought he didn't like you. But it was the opposite. He couldn't hear your sweet voice say his name without popping a boner like a fucking teenager. It was pathetic and he didn't know what to do.

The worst part, though, was that the walls of his and Seonghwa's apartment weren't particularly thick, and every time you and his friend would sleep together, he'd freeze up, pressing close to the wall between his and Seonghwa's rooms to try and hear the pretty sounds you made just a little better. He felt awful about it, listening in on the two of you having sex and jerking off like it was some personal porno, but he couldn't seem to stop himself. He never came as hard as he did when you begged for his best friend. He couldn't let it go, even if it left him with a mess to clean up and a red hot burn of humiliation in his chest.

So it was another weekend where you were coming over to spend time with Seonghwa, and Hongjoong cursed himself for not making any plans to get out of the house, because when he got out of the shower, there you were in the kitchen, a grin on your face and a shirt that he could have sworn had belonged to him at one point paired with a cute black skirt that brushed your thighs in the way he wished he could. He blinked a few times, dragging his eyes away from your body.

"I'm making lunch. Are sandwiches okay? You need to go grocery shopping, I swear I don't know how you two survive." You said. He swallowed, suddenly hyper aware that he was only wearing a pair of shorts and a towel around his shoulders to catch the water dripping from his hair. He cleared his throat.

"Right, yeah that's great. Thank you." He said. You nodded, satisfied with his answer.

"Good. Now go dry off, you're gonna drip on the floor." You said, shooing him off with a sweet smile. And he could swear when you turned around that your skirt lifted just enough to show him that there was nothing underneath. He cursed to himself, his eyes rolling back as he felt his dick twitch in his shorts. He had never scurried off to his room faster, and he entirely missed the pleased little giggle that followed his absence.

It was the next day, and part of Hongjoong was devastated that you and Seonghwa seemingly hadn't done anything besides watch youtube, leaving him with his own thoughts and his hand, recalling the times you'd come undone underneath his best friend. But what he didn't expect was to wake up to the sound of you on the other side of the wall just after dawn, the prettiest moans sinking through to his room and stirring him from his sleep.

"Hwa, please," You whined, squirming under his touch. It was so early, and you had barely had time to adjust to being conscious before Seonghwa was tucking himself between your legs, mouth latched onto your clit and two fingers curling into your pulsing heat. "Faster, need more."

Seonghwa chuckled against your pussy, his tongue dipping in to meet his fingers, lapping at the wetness you were leaking onto him. He was so mean sometimes, not that you ever had any real complaints about it. He sat back, his fingers still moving inside of you, just barely brushing the rough patch that edged you closer and closer to orgasm.

When your orgasm washed over you, it was nearly impossible for you to think properly, your hands scrambling for something to grab onto, one catching against the wall, the other digging into Seonghwa's shoulders as you let out the prettiest melody of moans, Seonghwa's name falling off your tongue as he worked his fingers deeper into you. He didn't let up until your legs were trembling against his shoulders and your moans turned into hiccuped whimpers.

"Good job, pretty baby. Put on such a good show," He hummed, crawling up to kiss you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. He dipped towards your ear. "Think he came already, or should we give it another go?"

Hongjoong was shaking, his hands trembling and his stomach covered in his own cum. He never stopped feeling frazzled whenever he listened to his best friend fuck you. And he wasn't sure if you didn't know how thin the walls were or if you really just didn't care who heard you. He used a handful of tissues to clean his seed off his skin, pulling on a pair of sweatpants to cross over into the bathroom.

The last thing he was expecting, however, was for you to come out with nothing but one of Seonghwa's shirts barely covering you, a bright grin on your face when you saw him. He was speechless, his eyes following the plush of your thighs, the way he could almost see your pussy if he could get away with looking a little harder. And he could see the little hickeys that Seonghwa had left on you that weren't there in the morning.

His dick twitched in his pants, and he started to panic, his eyes finding yours again. You were looking at him so sweetly, and it only made him ache more. God, when had he turned into such a fucking mess?

"Were you gonna use the bathroom?" You asked him, hands fidgeting with the hem of your shirt, pulling it a little higher so the view was almost unmistakable. Hongjoong gulped, looking over at the bathroom, then back at you. He shook his head, although he wasn't sure what else he'd have been doing. But you didn't ask, just grinning at him and brushing your hand over his arm as you passed him, giving a not-so-subtle squeeze to his bicep that was the cherry on top of his arousal, leaving him rock hard with a very noticeable tent in his sweatpants. Fuck.

Come the next day, you hadn't seen a single glimpse of Hongjoong, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't disappointed. You were grateful that your boyfriend didn't mind your borderline obsession with his roommate. If anything, he was endlessly indulgent. So when he looked over from where he was playing his game, he knew without asking what had you pouting and sulking on his bed like you were.

"If you want his attention, just go ask him to hang out with you." He said. You whined, moving to lay down.

"Don't wanna. Want him to come play with us. I know he wants to!" You said, pout evident in your voice.

"Yeah, but he doesn't know that you want him too. You know he's not gonna make a move without knowing it won't be a bad one." Seonghwa said with a faux pout to mock yours.

"But how do I do that?"

"Easy."

Seonghwa turned off his game, standing up to knock on the wall next to you. You jumped a little, eyes going wide and your heart rate picking up - from excitement or nerves was anybody's guess. When Hongjoong didn't answer back, Seonghwa knocked again, calling for him to come over for good measure. You squirmed, propping yourself up as Seonghwa shifted to lean over you.

"Gonna let him watch me make you cum?" He asked in your ear, earning a breathy whine. You nodded almost frantically, letting Seonghwa tug your shirt over your head just in time for Hongjoong to open his door. The red haired man stopped in his tracks, his lips parted like he was going to say something, but nothing came out. You turned to look at him, and that sweet smile was back.

"Sorry," He blurted out after a minute, turning to leave, but Seonghwa stopped him.

"Come back, close the door." He said. Hongjoong did as he said like a man possessed, looking shocked by his own actions as he latched the door. "Sit down, get comfortable."

Hongjoong backed up until he could sit down in the gaming chair at Seonghwa's desk, still watching the two of you as his hands clasped in his lap, a desperate attempt to hide the way he was getting hard just from seeing you laid out under his friend like that.

"You like listening to them get fucked, right? I know you always jerk off to it. I see the way you look at them. You want to see it?" Seonghwa asked as if he were just asking what Hongjoong wanted for dinner, and the younger choked a little, a startled cough filling the quiet.

"Joongie, please?" You whined, and his eyes fluttered, taking in the sound of his name on your tongue. "Been wanting you to watch forever. Want you to enjoy me like Hwa does."

"I shouldn't...I don't...understand." He said, eyes flitting between the two of you, and he tried so hard not to focus too much on the exposed skin of your torso. That got much more difficult however when Seonghwa expertly undid your bra and slid it off of you.

"We want you to watch, you want to watch. What is there to think about? Please, Joongie! I wanna see you touch yourself for me. I need it." You reached up, your hands cupping your breasts and kneading them lightly as you pouted at Hongjoong. He dragged a hand through his hair, looking once more at Seonghwa who looked bored of waiting for an answer.

"You can leave if you want, no hard feelings. But I just know they're gonna cum harder than ever with you in here." Seonghwa shrugged, stripping off his shirt to press closer to you, your bare chests pressed together as he captured your lips. The kiss was hungry, teeth clashing and tongues trading saliva until you couldn't breathe, and you could hear the way Hongjoong groaned and hissed at the sight.

You fumbled with Seonghwa's jeans, eventually managing to push them down his hips and out of your way. He sat back, kicking them off and tugging your shorts down at the same time so you were only covered by the cute little black panties you'd picked just for Joong.

Seonghwa tugged at your arm, half manhandling your body as he rearranged the two of you. He pulled you onto his lap, leaning back against the wall and hooking your legs over his so you were entirely spread out facing Hongjoong. You squirmed, feeling yourself growing wetter at the way he flushed, and you swore he almost looked like he'd pass out, staring at the way your panties stuck to your wet folds.

Seonghwa's fingers trailed over your arms, putting on a show to work both you and Hongjoong up, and it was clearly working as you squirmed even more, earning a slap to the outside of your thigh. You jolted and mumbled an apology under your breath.

"Didn't hear you," Seonghwa mused, his hands already going back to caress over your waist, down your stomach, then back up to brush his thumbs over your nipples.

"Said I'm sorry, sir." You repeated louder. He hummed his approval, kissing your shoulder as he tweaked your nipples, tugging and flicking them to full hardness.

"That's what I thought. If you're gonna let him watch, you better be on your best fucking behavior. Not gonna let my friends think I'll let you be a disobedient slut." He warned, and you nodded quickly, gasping when he gave your nipples one last harsh pinch.

Hongjoong was entranced, watching how easily you fell apart under Seonghwa's touch. He'd heard the sounds before, heard his friend's mean words, but seeing the way your eyes rolled back and your hips chased some sort of friction was almost too much. His hands clenched against the fabric of his pants, resisting the urge to touch himself for fear he'd cum the second he did.

"They get so wet whenever you're home." Seonghwa said, teasing his fingers up and down the wet patch between your thighs, his arm resting around your waist to keep you from writhing and rocking into the touch. "Would be jealous if it wasn't so much fun getting you riled up. Can't even look you in the eye, can he baby?"

You shook your head, eyes trained on Hongjoong's face, the pretty shade of pink that dusted his cheeks. He looked up, almost as if he were trying to argue against his friend's taunts. When he met your eye, he shivered, a pretty little moan falling out of his mouth as he finally gave in and palmed himself firmly through his pants.

You looked so desperate, clearly chasing his attention and melting into Seonghwa's chest when you received it, opening your thighs wider and reaching up to toy with one of your nipples. It was for him, he knew that now, and his mind was reeling with every time you'd been putting on a show for him, every time he'd denied it to himself. And fuck he could have been doing this all along? He might never forgive himself.

"Should we take off their panties? Do you wanna see me open them up?" Seonghwa asked, dipping one lithe finger under the edge of your panties, the tip of it brushing near enough to your clit to make you jolt, sending pleading looks to Hongjoong. The latter nodded frantically, those wide, blown out eyes turning to Seonghwa who seemed just as affected as you were if the bulge pressing against your ass was anything to go off of.

With his friend's agreement, Seonghwa let go of your waist, helping you shimmy the fabric down your hips and discarding them in Hongjoong's direction. They landed just in front of his feet, and he couldn't help but stare at them as if he'd been gifted a trophy from the gods, one he'd cherish until the day his mortal soul was escorted to the afterlife.

"Look at me, Joongie," You said, and you fully giggled when his head snapped up at the order. His eyes found yours first, awaiting some sort of guidance. Then down, down, down across the planes and dips and swells of your body to where Seonghwa was lazily dragging a finger through your wetness. He spread it up, circled widely around your clit before gliding back down.

Hongjoong choked, his hips bucking against his hand. He was dead, he had to be. This wasn't fucking possible. You looked like a painting, spread out, your bottom lip caught between your teeth as you beared Seonghwa's teasing.

"Look how pretty they look, fucking dripping all over my lap just from being watched." Seonghwa mumbled, more to himself than to either one of you. His fingers finally landed against your clit, rubbing firm, slow figure eights. You leaned your head back, putting the clear expanse of your throat on display.

"Faster, sir, please." You hissed out, and Hongjoong could see the way that your thighs tensed and fluttered against the feeling, trying so hard not to do anything punishable.

"Do you deserve it? Being such a filthy slut for my best friend. Not a very good toy, can't even stay loyal. But sharing is caring, I suppose." He mused, and you nearly cursed his dramatics before his touch was speeding up.

You purred, arching so perfectly against him that he couldn't resist moving his hand lower, sliding two fingers into you without even a little resistance. You cried out, louder than Hongjoong had ever heard you.

"Please. Need more, need to be full. I wanna show him. Show him I can take it, I can be good." You were babbling, high off the feeling of having both men's attention on you. You'd been waiting for it so long that you couldn't even try and find some shame within yourself. Only pride burned through your veins. Pride at having won Seonghwa over, pride at having gotten Hongjoong to finally give you the attention you'd craved. Pride at not having cum just from the knowledge that he wanted you as bad as you wanted him.

"Greedy." Seonghwa pulled his fingers out, slapping them against your clit a few times before filling you with them again. You sobbed out a broken sound of pleasure, and Hongjoong hissed in return. He fumbled, pushing at his pants until they were low enough for him to pull his dick out.

You whined at the sight, his pretty cock, sort of long and thin with a vein running up the underside that simply had your mouth watering, and his hand making slow, almost hesitant pulls along the length. Your walls fluttered around Seonghwa's fingers, sucking him in deeper in a desperate attempt to feel full enough. He chuckled, curling his fingers to press against the rough patch inside of you. Your hips bucked, and you made the most pathetic sound of the day. Hongjoong's eyes went wide, and he couldn't settle on where to look; Your blissed out face, your heaving chest, or the way his friend's fingers were fucking into you with carefully practiced technique, the way he wished his fingers were.

"Like what you see?" Seonghwa asked upon catching Hongjoong's attention on your pussy spreading so easily for his fingers. Hongjoong nodded. "Just wait till you see them cum. Might even let you taste, if you want. It's best from the source."

You were gone then, the thought of Hongjoong's tongue on you edging you closer and closer to drenching your boyfriend's fingers in cum, and he could tell. A strong hand found your hip, pulling you firmly back into place, and his fingers curled expertly against your g-spot. You whined and whimpered, incoherent begging filling the room.

"Please. Need to cum, please 'Hwa. I've been so good, always so good. Just wanna show him how good you make me feel, please." You babbled, gripping his forearm even as he continued abusing your most sensitive spots. You could hear how wet you were, the slick sounds turning you on even more desperately. The feeling of your juices on your thighs were like ice on your overheated skin.

"You're asking the wrong person, baby. Is this how we entertain our guests?" He asked. You shook your head, mumbling out a sweet 'nuh-uh'.

"Joong, please. You wanna see, right? Want me to cum for you? Please, Joongie, I need it. 'M so close, can't hold it. Please, let me cum. I wanna cum, I want you to see." You were whining, words slurring together as you tried your best to hang on to the edge with Seonghwa's thumb brushing your clit ever so slightly and his fingertips digging into your hip in the perfect way you loved.

"Please, want you to cum. Cum for me," Hongjoong blurted out, his hips chasing after each stroke of his hand over his cock, precum leaking from his tip and easing the harsh tugs he was giving himself. He was close too, you could see it in the way his chest heaved up and down, the way his eyebrows furrowed and his tongue dragged over his bottom lip again and again.

You couldn't deny such a lovely request. Your orgasm hit you like a train, your eyes rolling into your head and your thighs trying so hard to clench shut that Seonghwa had to grab you to keep you from tumbling off his lap altogether. You gasped, trying to draw back in the air that had been squeezed out of your lungs in a desperate cry. Your blood was rushing in your ears, and you only came back to reality at the sound of Hongjoong's groans.

He stared at the way your cum dripped out of you, creamy wetness running down the curve of your ass to pool in his best friend's lap. You shivered with the aftershocks of the pleasure, your eyes half lidded and your breath coming fast. He burned the image into his mind as he fucked up into his hand, his own orgasm rushing over him. His cum poured out of him, thick and seemingly never ending as it dripped down his hand, each attempt to ride out the bliss just spreading his spend over the length of his cock.

You wiggled, barely able to stand on weakened thighs as you stood up. You took the few tentative steps over to where Hongjoong was sitting, resting your hands on his thighs and sinking down to your knees. You looked up at him with that same smile, those same almost-innocent eyes as you nestled between his spread thighs.

"Can I taste?" You asked, fingers inching up his legs towards his still rock hard, cum smeared dick.Fuck, he was a dead man.

copyright 2023 coupsie-daisies, all rights reserved

#ateez x reader #kim hongjoong x reader #park seonghwa x reader #kim hongjoong fanfic #kim hongjoong #ateez #park seonghwa #park seonghwa fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez reader insert #kim hongjoong reader insert #park seonghwa reader insert #park seonghwa fanfiction #ateez fanfiction #kim hongjoong fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #kpop reader insert #x reader fanfic #x reader fanfiction #reader insert fanfiction #reader insert fanfic #coupsie-daisies #coupsie-daisies kinktober 23

[bi-bard]

Harry Styles Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Dick Grayson - Dick Grayson Imagine [Titans]

Title: Harry Styles Songs That Would Describe a Relationship with Dick Grayson

Pairing: Dick Grayson X Reader

Word Count: 2,180 words

Warning(s): argument, mention of violence

Summary: Three songs by Harry Styles that would describe a relationship with Dick Grayson [HBO's Titans].

Author's Note: I just went back and listened to "Harry's House" again, so... here's this.

**Not intentionally written in chronological order**

-------------------

Sweet Creature

And ohhhh, we started Two hearts in one home It's hard when we argue We're both stubborn, I know

I was leaning against the counter as Dick spoke with Dawn and Hank on the phone. I was biting at my nail. The two of them had been attacked by Dr. Light, someone that we had met back when the original Titans occupied the tower.

That with the sudden appearance of Slade Wilson's daughter... it all felt too familiar.

"Dawn and Hank are on their way here," Dick explained as he walked over. He leaned against the counter across from me. "I'm gonna call Donna too."

"She's not gonna want to come back," I muttered.

"I know," he replied.

I took a deep breath. "I can't fucking believe that I agreed to this idea."

"What," he asked.

"I... I was so scared about coming back here," I explained. "This place... the Titans didn't exactly separate on good terms, Dick. I was scared of dragging these kids into this."

"That's why we're training them as intensely as we are. When something happens, they'll be ready-"

"We don't get the luxury of knowing that we have enough time for that!"

I saw Dick's jaw clench.

"We took a huge risk coming back here. We knew that it would draw attention," I continued. "And now... Now Dr. Light is back and... We both know that it's a matter of time before Slade figures out where the fuck his kid is. It just..."

"What?"

"It feels like we're setting history up to repeat itself," I shrugged. "I can't deal with another loss, Dick. I can't."

He closed his eyes and tilted his head for a moment. "Do you think this was a mistake?"

"I... I don't know. I don't want it to be... I just think that there are still a lot of ghosts here."

He nodded. He paused for a moment before speaking up again, "I still think about him too."

"So you understand my reluctance to drag Donna back."

"Yes, but this... this is bigger than all of that. I can't risk the potential harm."

"Don't pull the 'good of many' argument with me, I've watched you turn your back on that logic."

"For you."

"For someone you love," I hoped that he could understand the parallel that I was making.

He nodded. "You're right."

I crossed my arms over my chest, looking away from him.

"I still want Donna here," he explained. "Fighting with us or not, she'll be safer with us than on her own."

"You sure about that?"

"No... I just hope it's true."

"Okay," I muttered.

I still wasn't looking at him.

I don't know why. I don't know if it was my stubbornness or my nervousness... I just couldn't get myself to pull my eyes from the floor.

I closed my eyes as he kissed the side of my head. I reached up and placed my hand on his forearm as a heavy sigh escaped me.

He could always do that. Pull me back from my panic and worry. Allow me to see everything through a steady lens. It was something that had seemingly been an instinct for him. Through any argument, any disagreement, we were able to find each other and get past it.

It was something that I hoped I could do for him.

It was one of my favorite things about being with him.

"We're going to get through this," he muttered, pretty much speaking against my head. "We did it once, we can do it again. I promise."

I nodded. "Okay."

He moved so he could look me in the eye. "I love you."

"I love you too," I whispered. He leaned forward and pecked my lips.

And as he did, I begged whatever entity in charge of the world to just let this all work out for the best.

Adore You

Oh honey I'd walk through fire for you Just let me adore you Like it's the only thing I'll ever do

In the moment, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion.

After the fact, it felt like it all happened within half a second.

But no matter what lens I looked at the situation through, I was still angry.

It was back when the original Titans were still working together. We had stopped a pretty big weapons deal from going through the city. It should have been a surefire way to catch and question the closest thing to the leader of the crew that we knew of.

However, while the deal had been prevented, we didn't get our hands on him.

Dick had a chance. He was maybe two steps from getting him.

And then, the guy that I had been fighting nearly got the better of me. In the brief moments that I thought would be my last, Dick ran over and stopped him. For just a second, I was thankful... until I saw that the man that we had been trying to get a hold of had escaped.

I kept my mouth shut until we got back to the tower, hoping to maintain appearances in public.

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you," I asked as we stepped off the elevator.

Dick was a few steps ahead of me. His eyebrows were furrowed as he turned to look at me. "Excuse me?"

"We had a shot," I explained. "A good shot of taking down that operation for good instead of following them from deal to deal and just causing them to go farther underground. You had your hands on him but you fucked it up. What the fuck was that?"

"You were almost killed!"

"Trolley problem, Grayson," I snapped back. "One life in exchange for a million saved!"

"(Y/n)'s right," Hank spoke up from behind me. "And I don't say that often."

Hank had a point there. We could work together, but our techniques- and morals- were a bit different from each other. We had pretty common arguments. Him admitting that I was right was a huge deal.

"Doesn't matter," Dick muttered. "We keep going. We'll get another shot. Without someone dying in the process."

"This does matter, Dick," I said. "You just threw the team objective to the wolves. Risked so many that can't even count-"

"None of them matter more than you," he cut me off. "None of them."

"Why?"

He shook his head, looking away from me. He went to walk away.

I stepped in front of him. "You don't get to ruin this mission and claim that I am so important, then not explain yourself!"

I saw the other four walk around us, going to give us some kind of space to have this conversation.

"Just stop," he mumbled after a few moments.

"No. Not until you can tell me what the hell happened tonight."

"I made a choice."

"But why?"

"(Y/n)-"

"Tell me."

"Stop it-"

"No, fucking tell me-"

"Because I love you," he finally snapped. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh.

I felt my mouth fall open in shock. I couldn't find a way to collect my thoughts enough to respond to him for a few moments.

"I'm sorry," he muttered. "I... I didn't want this to be how that came out. I just... I would sacrifice everything if it meant that I could keep you safe. And I always will. No matter what happens in the future... no matter what happens because of this. We can forget that this ever happened-"

"I don't want to," I said, finally finding my voice again as the shock wore off. "I don't want to forget about an ounce of this."

He didn't speak up. He just stared at me for a few moments.

I stepped forward, finding myself a few mere inches from him.

"Can I..."

"Please," I answered as his question trailed off.

Dick leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. I kissed him back slowly. It was strange. I had kind of accepted that the chance of me and Dick ever ending up together was gone. I had thought that my crush was almost childish. But here I was, sharing a kiss with him in the middle of the hallway.

I pulled away first, smiling at him as I did.

"I love you too," I said quietly. "By the way."

He smiled back. "I'm glad to hear it."

I stepped away, going to walk away and change out of my suit.

"(Y/n)..."

I turned back to Dick.

"I need you to know that I will always pick you," he explained. "No matter the consequence or the danger. I'll let the world burn as long as I can keep you."

"I just ask that my word means as much as your desire to protect me," I replied. "You love me enough to let the world burn. I love you enough to make sure that you recognize that you can't always do that."

He nodded. "Okay."

"Okay."

I continued walking out of the room.

Everything changed in those few moments. Everything between Dick and me, everything between me and the team, everything about my work as a hero.

And I couldn't quite tell if the butterflies in my stomach were excited nerves about all that was changing or scared nerves about just what Dick meant when he said that he'd let the world burn.

Keep Driving

Maple syrup Coffee Pancakes for two Hash brown Egg yolk I will always love you

-- Season 4, Episode 8 --

I never thought that I would experience the moment when someone stands in the middle of my living room and tells me that everything I knew was a lie.

But that was exactly what I was experiencing in that moment.

The man that I had known as Ted was telling me that his name was Dick and my name was (Y/n) and that everything that I knew about my life had been created to keep me from stopping the end of the world.

I didn't believe him.

I was in this perfect life. I was in this peaceful life where every single thing was predictable and safe. It was a dream that so many people longed for.

What Dick was telling me about was anything but.

It was scary and dangerous. Every day was the risk of another heartbreak. A risk of losing anyone and everyone that I had ever cared about.

The choice felt obvious, yet he felt so committed to getting me to willingly walk back into that life.

"Why would I do that," I asked.

Dick didn't reply.

"If... If I was angry and scared and stressed... If I was left with so much heartbreak... why would I ever go back? Why would I have ever stayed in the first place?"

"Because you got to help people," Dick finally answered. "More than you could imagine helping in any other career. And you loved the family that you had found. And... And you loved me... I hope."

I felt like my head was going to explode. There was this constant weight pushing on it. I didn't know what I wanted.

If I truly remembered what this man wanted me to, then I had to say goodbye to this peace that I had found. This little life where nothing was truly wrong. Not that I had to think about, anyway.

But if I didn't, then I would always wonder about the boy that looked at me with so much love that it felt like I was suffocating.

I didn't stop Dick when he stepped even closer to me and cupped the sides of my face. I just watched him as his eyes danced around my face.

I stunned myself when I didn't stop him from leaning forward and pressing his lips to mine. I stood still as he gently kissed me. Careful and hesitant. He was waiting for me to shove him away. I could feel it.

He leaned back, pushing his forehead against mine with his eyes still shut. He whispered to me, "Come back to me... please."

It felt like a shell cracking. Whatever had been created for me slowly crumbling away as I looked at him. I felt a grin forming on my face.

I leaned in and kissed him again, hands reaching out to pull him closer by the fabric of his shirt.

This cast only lasted a few seconds longer than the first. I smiled a little further than before.

Dick's thumbs ran along my cheekbones. "(Y/n)?"

"Hi," I muttered, reaching up to hold his hands in place. I let out a shaky chuckle.

He did the same. "Hi."

We both shared a heavy breath, any remnant of the false life fading completely.

"How do you feel?"

"Better."

"Good," Dick stepped back, taking my hand. "Come on, Rachel needs our help."

I nodded. "Do you know where she is?"

"Not quite..."

"Well then, we have a lot of work to do."

"Yeah."

I leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Worth it."

-------------------

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#x reader #imagine #fanfiction #dc imagine #dc fanfiction #dc x reader #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fanfiction #dick grayson imagine #titans x reader #titans fanfiction #titans imagine #nightwing x reader #nightwing imagine #nightwing fanfiction

[aihoshiino]

ive seen interpretations of both but do you think ayumi's abuse of ai only started once the stepdad starting to uh make eyes at her or if it already was a thing before but escalated due to it?

I'm pretty certain and always have been that Ayumi was abusive to Ai the entire time she was in her care - 131 just clarified the shape of it and its point of explosive escalation.

Even prior to that, I was pretty firm in my reading that Ai did not have anything resembling a normative upbringing in her mother's household. Even before we have any of the details about that relationship presented to us, Ai says herself in chapter 1 of the manga no less that she has 'always wanted' a family because she does not have one. As 131 tells us, Ai didn't leave her mother's house until she was nine or ten years old at the very least. She was raised by Ayumi for ten years and still considers herself to be a person who never had a family.

We see this clarified in chapter 8 where Ai more explicitly talks about her abuse: Ayumi abandoned her to the care system after her arrest, which Ai frames as preferable to "getting hit", making it more or less explicit that Ayumi was, in fact, physically violent towards her outside of the incident we hear about in 45510. However, the most damning part of this scene to me comes from elsewhere:

"I don't remember ever being loved."

Even by her own mother. Ai has no memory of ever being loved by Ayumi. We get a reiteration of this idea during Ryosuke's attack on her, as Ai says over and over: she doesn't understand love. She doesn't know how to love people, no matter how desperately she tries.

This by itself is all very alarming before you ever account for Ayumi's violence. Remember that Ai cannot be any older than 11 or 12 years old here and yet this is still how she chooses to describe herself: as a person with no memory of ever being loved. As an antisocial liar, a people-hating liar. A twelve year old child should not be able to even think of herself in these terms, let alone articulate them.

There's a lot of other small hints scattered around, too— Ai is implied to have some anxieties relating to food security and she is shown to be quite short and slight even by the standards of an average Japanese woman, which possibly implies a history of not being fed enough or not having access to food as and when she needed to eat. During her big Ai research session, Akane even directly says that, with the way Ai's personality turned out, there's no way she could have come from a good home environment.

Ai's personality isn't the only red flag here, though. Ayumi herself and the way she talks about both Ai and her abuse of Ai when Aqua finally speaks to her in person paints a very clear picture of the sort of mother she likely was, even in the short amount of time that we have page time with her. I did a much longer analysis of her in a previous post but to TL;DR it, Ayumi spends the entire conversation simultaneously backpedalling at breakneck speed from any claim of agency and responsibility in her abuse of Ai while also placing the blame of that abuse on Ai herself.

Not only that, but here's something I just caught on reviewing the chapter right now — Ayumi never even actually admits to abusing her daughter. Pay attention to how she describes the series of events: She became angry at her boyfriend, jealous of her daughter and then… their family just 'fell apart'. There is a glaring hole, a missing step in this process and that missing step is her violence towards Ai. The closest she ever gets to acknowledging any sort of mistreatment is her saying that she would just "wind up hurting" Ai if they were together again, which is about the most understated nothing sentiment imaginable. Of course Ayumi can never atone for what she did. She can't even fucking admit it.

The way Ayumi disavows herself of agency while centering Ai as holding responsibility for her own victimization and abuse combined with Ai's own personality pretty much makes it explicit to me that Ayumi was emotionally abusive to Ai for all her life. Specifically, I think Ayumi was probably the sort of mother that is colloquially referred to as a "narcissistic mother" - specifically, I think she falls under the umbrella of 'covert narcissist'. While discussing this type of behavior, psychologist Craig Malkin said "Covert narcissists feel special because they believe their pain is more important than others". Covert narcissism is defined by jealousy, difficulty maintaining meaningful relationships, projection of insecurities onto others (in this case, from mother to daughter) and an inability to handle criticism or cop to their own behavior. Sound like someone we know?

Another big tell is just… honestly, looking at any list of the long term effects of this kind of abuse on children. Growing up under this kind of parenting leads to a whole host of issues, but most relevant to my point here is as follows:

Hyper-vigilance towards other peoples' feelings

Poor emotional intelligence; specifically, a lack of comprehension of your own emotions

Unhealthy desires for validation from other people and tendencies towards codependency in relationships

Perfectionism and/or self destructive tendencies, either separately or in parallel

Low self esteem, poor self image, high levels of self doubt and self criticism.

If you're reading that list and going wow! this is basically just a Greatest Hits of everything wrong with Hoshino Ai! then congratulations because you successfully completed my thought experiment for me. I've described the effects of Ayumi's abuse as running through Ai like fault lines before and this is the sort of thing I mean.

I also don't want to leave it unspoken that like… violence the likes of which Ayumi subjected Ai to does not come from nowhere. A normal, loving parent does not escalate to putting fucking glass in her daughter's food no matter what the hell else is going on in their life. It's unclear whether Ayumi's physical abuse of Ai was something that only started after the incident with her stepfather or if it was an aspect of the ongoing abuse she subjected Ai to all her life, but I simply don't think it's possible with everything the manga has laid out, explicitly and implicitly, about their relationship that Ayumi was ever a loving mother to Ai or that the two of them ever had a remotely normal relationship. In a horrible way, Ayumi's abandonment of Ai was the kindest thing she ever did for her, because it means she finally got the fuck out of her life.

#oshi no ko #oshi no posting #onk spoilers #ai hoshino #abuse cw

[colorfulandblack]

Marion's Starburst Scar is Not a Bleed Scar and Also the Case of the Missing Soul

Here's some theories and thoughts so buckle up

So, ok let me begin with comparing the scars and reviewing what we know about them.

A person gets a scar whenever they receive 4 marks in either body, brain or bleed. This also changes one's character.

We saw Howard's scar, might I add self inflicted, then Charlotte's scar and we saw how the fact that they got them changed their personalities ever so slightly but also what's notable is the difference of the body/brain scar to bleed one. Howard performed a tracheotomy on himself and Charlie arm is rendered useless.

However, Arlo Black, who entered the latest assignment with already one bleed scar which was a result of her sticking her hand into a portal and being exposed to the Flare. Because of this her next bleed scar expanded beyond her hand onto her side of the face and heightened her abilities as an ocultist. Whenever she is exposed to bleed she feels it in her hand.

Sound familiar, doesn't it?

Marion also entered the assignment with a scar. However it was never specified how he got it and which sort is it. Seems pretty certain it is a bleed scar but hear me out cos that's not necessarily the case in my opinion.

Based on previous observations (especially Arlo and the fact that they are both under Weird category) and the fact that the scar seems to soak on the bleed as the blue veins show a bit more each time Marion uses his abilities much like Arlos points to it being a bleed scar. And the fact that after receiving a (second?) bleed scar it expanded up his neck.

But what drives me insane is why the hell is it starburst shaped? How the fuck would that manifest as a sign of bleed or be an indicator that he was exposed to the bleed? Arlo's scar makes sense because her hand was exposed to another dimension/plane.

What if Marion's first scar was a result of body marks?

First of all the fact that it's starburst shaped, for me immediately brings an image of an explosive. Which makes sense as Marion was a soldier and mortars were flying left and right on the battlefield.

It is also not specified when his premotions manifested in terms of had he already have the scar or not? See it is possible that once he started getting those premotions he maxed out on bleed scars pretty quickly. But his abilities are not inherently a sign or result of bleed. He soaks up other people's marks and given the fact he saved Sean and Nathaniel probably several times his tally for body must have been full. They had not encountered bleed during the war!

Again because of the shape of his scar I imagine that it is possible that the last mark he took was a body from a bomb going off. Now that wouldn't just leave a scar, that just puts you in the ground.

Now this is when it gets interesting both based on facts and on my headcanons.

Have you noticed how Marion's "Medium" underneath his portrait looks like a toetag?

I mean it could be just a little note thingy that you attach to gifts or use as a bookmark as a stylistic/aesthetic choice but if the fact that Luis names his character Marion Collodi like the author of Pinocchio who's a MARIONette and sings how he doesn't have any strings left (while Spencer graphically described the Eldrich terror reaching for their soul strings and finding nothing) taught me anything is that NOTHING is random here.

So, here's the thing. Marion dies. Marion dies in an explosion. He dies because he soaked up that last body only it wasn't just a body mark. It was entire fucking life. His scar is a result of body marks being full.

And because it was an entire fucking life his starburst scar becomes the centre of the bleeds that starts to enter his life well before Candela. Because this life that he exchanged was a result of some powerful magik that in the world of Newfaire ways manifests in the form of bleed and therefore marked this spot as it's home and now whenever Marion uses his abilities the scar pulsates and grows.

That is also a reason WHY he hasn't got a soul, because he exchanged it, saving someone's life. I like to imagine it was Sean and they are literally soulmates, two people, one soul. I mean I don't know if their relationship will play out more romantically or platonically/brotherly but they do have an insane bond together and it would make more sense, based on the conversation between Marion and Sean in the metro tunnels alone that they would fight alongside more often that they would alongside (literally in close proximity) Nathaniel. Sean said that Marion would often call the shots, how to maneuver the battlefield and Nathaniel being the lieutenant would put him in more commanding position. I just don't imagine he would tag along Sean and Marion having entire troup to command.

Either way bleed has already entered Marion's body/soul before Candela or any previous contant with bleed and marked him and that's why the thing said that he's a perfect vessel already prepared for whatever evil plan the monster have.

This of course DOES NOT explain the definitely DELIBERATE choice on Luis part of naming his character Marion Collodi, as elaborated above and what the fuck does it mean but perhaps we will learn about it later on.

Or perhaps because Marion is a vessel, because he exchanged his soul for other person's life he will become possessed and become a plaything, a mariontte to some Eldrich terror puppetier. Like some sort of cruel cosmic joke that prays and exploits Marion's heart of gold and innate inability to take care of himself and just soaking those marks left and right.

#shit thats a loooonngg rant #sorry about that #just have a lot of feeling about this #none of my friends watch candela and i have noone to talk to #candela obscura #critical role #candela spoilers? its been long since chapter 1 but ig #candela spoilers #marion collodi #luis carazo #needle and thread #sean finnerty #brennan lee mulligan #spencer starke #nathaniel trapp #travis willingham

[driftwood-fireflies]

any billy hcs?

OKAY I'm finly tackling this. lightning round.

I know that the general fandom perception of billy (in a few different circles anyway) is that he's trans, and I DO understand this. however it's not my personal headcanon. if you want to know why it's simply because the idea of him being a chaser is like insanely funny to me so. stu is trans and billy is weird about it. this is my dynamic.

as for sexuality, I've described this to people before, but to me he's bisexual on a technicality. what's that technicality? he REALLY thinks he likes women. like he's convinced himself he does. (he does not.) so like, if anything, he'd consider himself bisexual and so I call him bisexual. but. he's gay. dykwim.

anyway yes billy is a bi chaser and he is down horrible for stu though he can't really show it. I don't know if I even brought this up in my stu headcanons post but I do think they are BOTH autistic and bpd so they're really failmaxxing as a romantic duo

billyboy loomis is the undisputed mommy issues king, I think him and his mom were very close when he was a kid, like almost to the point where she was smothering him, but he loved her and became codependent with her. I think that's a theme for billy - codependency. he grew to be that way with his mom, and since I personally believe that him and stu have been friends since childhood, he also grew a little fascination with him at around the same time. he's always been Weird about stu in a myriad of ways, but the moment his mom abandoned him it was almost guaranteed that his closeness with him would turn into its own codependency. and it did.

I think his family has moved around a lot, only settling in woodsboro when he was maybe eleven or so. that's when he met stu.

I think they were both independently weird freaks of their own nature, as in, billy has always had his horror movie and psychology fascinations, but stu really amped up the crazy for him. like many people, I hc that stu is a big hunter and likely showed billy how to hunt and gut animals, and I even think he introduced him to the more gorey, less plot-centric horror movies that he loves. I also think the buck that they share was stu's initially, who then gave it to billy sometime after his mom left.

as for current day (read: 1996) stuff. a lot of people tend to stereotype stu as The horny one in their dynamic, but idk. they're both teenage boys and if anything, billy was the one trying the hardest to get laid in the movie lmfao. (I know there was an actual reason behind it but I do also think he just wanted to fuck lol) I think they're both raging horndogs and they rile each other up all the time.

we never see anyone but randy with an actual job, but I think billy's done some under the table type work around town. he strikes me as a guy who'd do good at a mechanic shop, or something. nothing too serious, just whenever he needed some pocket change he couldn't swipe from his dad.

as for horror movies... oh man.

billy is a real pretentious guy. he likes horror, he likes thrillers, but he's not as much of a gorehound as stu. that's not to say he doesn't like it - but it usually only interests him when it's the real deal. in terms of movies, he's actually your pretty generic film bro type, in that I think his top three are psycho, silence of the lambs, and the original house of wax. were he alive today, he'd be BIG into the 'elevated horror' genre, I think. think jordan peele and ari aster. overall he's a real snob about it, he can only get into a horror movie if the killer is someone he can idolize and get into the mind of. he's not a fan of monster movies, thinks it's scarier when the monster is just a regular guy. psychological horror is right up his alley, and I think he'd also love candyman for the way it combines artful and intriguing psychology into a more typically 'slasher' narrative.

I could talk about how billy watches horror movies forever but I'll move onto music so this post doesn't become a novel. I think he's big into rock, pretty similar to stu's taste in that regard. I think he'd really love green day, for sure. I also think he'd like the cure and REM, maybe soundgarden, too. he's really into anything moody or brooding in some way. besides rock though, I also think he enjoys older, more classical stuff. I could see him buying a film score cd and listening to it to sleep, or something.

SO. YEAH those are some of my billy hcs.. like I said w stu I have like a million thoughts about both of them that I couldn't possibly include in a single post so if you have any specific questions about stuff I didn't cover .. lmk ^_^

#i am so normal . #asks #headcanon asks #scream #scream movie #scream 1996 #billy loomis