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#actually no idea what this was supposed to be?
barblaz-arts · 1 day
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your Soul Eater AU makes my brain go brrr I love it!
I have a question though (and a couple headcannon/ Ideas I want to spill out but shhhh) since niffty is a witch what kind of animal is she? Because if I remember correctly some if not all witches have an animal motif.
For headcannon/ideas: for Vagis original miser Lute, I can somehow imagine her as someone who can both be a miser and a weapon (her new miser is Adam)
I briefly mentioned it in the post with Excalibur/Chain Knife!Alastor, but Niffty is supposed to be a mouse. Since she's a duo with Husk, who is a cat. I feel like it fits her too tbh
That would be cool, and I actually considered it, but I'm making Lute the Crona equivalent, with Adam being her Ragnarok.
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Instead of black blood, Adams's made of gold blood :D
Thought it'd be perfect since Adam has a lot of gold in his color palette, including his wings, while Lute already canonically wields a golden sword.
Anyways, here's a bit of Charlie and Vaggie going mad with gold blood.
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emphistic · 1 day
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hi emm! Since it’s prom season could u make basketball sukuna reacting to someone from the team asking you out for prom?
A/N: hii! i actually received a vv similar request a long time ago and i deleted it because i didnt know how to write it, so maybe this is a sign from God — my redemption time, LMAO
PS: sorry to all my readers who are actually jelly lovers, i am not one of you
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“So,” Gojo started, while shoving fries into his mouth, “have you got a date yet? Prom’s comin’ up real quick, y’know?”
The basketball team had just won their last game of the season, and all the players were eating out together in celebration. Sukuna was planning on just spending the rest of the night celebrating with you, like usual, but Gojo dragged him away and you only gave a thumbs up in encouragement. What a girlfriend you were, Sukuna scoffed, handing off your dear boyfriend to Gojo Satoru.
“Why do you care?” Sukuna grimaced at Gojo’s messy eating habits. How could one dare to speak while stuffing their face? Sukuna thought Gojo grew up wealthy, and, hey, aren’t rich people supposed to be, like, super into decorum? Where is this man’s etiquette?
“Sheesh, sorry for asking. I just wanted to know if my friend here,” he nudged Sukuna with his elbow, “needed some help getting a date. No need to be ashamed, Captain. I could hook you up with one of Utahime’s friends.”
“Yeah, no. But since you’re so curious, Satoru, I do have a date, actually.”
“No way, seriously? The big, bad, captain of the basketball team, has a date? For prom? I have to tell Suguru this.” Gojo whipped out his phone and, with his sauce-covered fingers, started typing like a madman.
Sukuna cringed, looking away and biting into his burger. This did not taste as good as your cooking. Why oh why did you let Satoru take him away? he thought. Sukuna would much rather be with you right now, even if it meant having to sit through one of your godawful rom-coms. Any of those would be better than Gojo fucking Satoru.
“I cannot believe he is missing this because he’s sick. Sick! That’s actually sick of him. Haha, get it?” Gojo leaned back in his chair, and Sukuna wished he would slip and fall backwards.
“There’s nothing shocking about me having a date, Satoru. I’m not some kind of loser.”
“Yeah, well. Yorozu’s not attached to your arm right now, so I thought—”
“I told you, I don’t like her like that. I don’t like her at all, matter of fact.”
“She’s, like, obsessed with you, dude.”
“I know,” Sukuna ran a hand down his face. “Just wish she would leave me alone, I’ve been trying my best to avoid her. And I haven’t seen her as often, so I think it’s working.” If Yorozu didn’t take the hint sooner or later, Sukuna would make your guys’ relationship known to the whole campus if he had to. Hell, Gojo didn’t even know yet. No one did, actually.
“Damn, so cold. You just gonna ignore her and break her heart?” Gojo laughed, but that quickly came back to kick him in the butt when he started choking on a fry.
“If you’re not joking, that fry will be the last thing you eat. I swear on your life, I do not want anything to do with that bitch.”
Gojo continued coughing and choking and shaking, but when all subsided and the white-haired man regained most of his posture, he posed the question, “So, you’re not gonna, like, ask me?”
“Ask you what? Ask you to prom? The fuck?”
“No, no, no. I mean, unless you wanted to,” Gojo tucked an overgrown strand of hair behind his ear, a stupid expression on his stupid face. “But, I’m talking about what I asked you. So, you gonna ask me if I have a prom date?”
“I don’t give a fuck if your lame ass has a date or not,” Sukuna spat out.
“Have you any idea how hurt I am now, because of you? Ehuhwaaa,” Gojo let out the fakest ugliest cry Sukuna had ever heard. “You think my ass is lame? Do you know how many would pay to see even a glimpse of my tush?”
“No. And I hope it stays that way.”
“I—how dare you.”
That night, Sukuna had to run away from Gojo in the parking lot of an In-n-Out. Otherwise, Gojo would’ve probably never left him alone. And, you might be thinking, Gojo is a fast runner. How did Sukuna get away? Well, it may or may not have been because Gojo had scarfed down three double-doubles prior. And he could barely stand upright without having to lean against Sukuna.
But, fear not, Sukuna did make it home, into your arms. And even though he did have to sit through your stupid rom-coms, he was so fucking glad to finally be away from that white-haired idiot.
Unfortunately for Sukuna, that peace and tranquility was short-lived. The next morning, he was woken up by your overly obnoxious doorbell. Seriously, when were you going to replace it?
Sukuna groaned, whispering into your hair, “Didn’t know you were expecting visitors, babe.”
“Hm?” Your voice was muffled; your face pressed impossibly close into Sukuna’s bare chest.
“Visitor, sweetheart. Someone’s at your door.”
“Huh?” You stuck your head up from your human pillow, and though missing the warmth, you were quite confused. Visitor? Since when?
It’s safe to say you were even more surprised to see Gojo Satoru outside when you opened your door. But you weren’t the only confused one, not for long, at least. Gojo raised his brow when he saw Sukuna emerge from behind you in all his glory: shirt nowhere to be found, hair unruly, and sweatpants hanging low on his hips.
“Captain? What are you—?” Gojo cleared his throat, “Whatever. Anyway, will you, Y/N, do me the honor of being the jelly to my peanut butter and going to prom with me?” Gojo flashed a smile so bright Sukuna almost fell backwards.
“Uhh, I’m sorry—”
“She doesn’t even like jelly, dumbass. And what’s with this horrendous sign? That’s seriously the best you’ve got?” Sukuna gestured with his chin at the poorly drawn and colored peanut butter jar and jelly. Not to mention, Gojo was also dressed as a sandwich, with two slices of bread on either side of his body.
“What the hell? How would you know if she liked jelly or not?”
“Because I’m her prom date.”
“And—and, what are you doing at her house?”
“I’m her boyfriend.” Sukuna glared at the white male, and slung an arm around your shoulder, out of spite.
Gojo paused, finally putting the puzzle pieces together. “Ohhh. So that’s why you didn’t want to come eat with us yesterday. And that’s why you were so desperate to go home. And that’s why I haven’t seen you with another girl in months.”
“Uh huh.”
“Anywho,” Gojo turned back to you, shoving his sign all up in your face. “Will you go to prom with me?”
“Dude.”
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flemingsfreckles · 2 days
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Something New (18+)
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Jessie Fleming x Reader
Synopsis: you and Jessie get teased for your assumed “vanilla” sex life, you decide to take Jessie on a trip to find some new things to try in the bedroom.
Warnings: suggestion to sex, sex toys, visiting adult store, (handcuffs, blindfolds, strap-on, buttplug, vibrators), none of the toys actually being used.
WC: 2.4k
A/N: if yall want a part 2 in which the toys are actually used, I can do that :)
“Oh come on there’s got to be something you want to try that we haven’t?” You pull up the sheet from where it had been kicked off the bed, covering your naked body before laying down next to your equally naked girlfriend.
“I don’t know.” Jessie just remained lying on her back, not making eye contact with you. Her chest was still rising and falling quickly, catching her breath.
“Oh come on, don’t be shy with me, after what we just did there’s no reason to be shy.” You two had just finished what was supposed to be quick morning sex but turned into a competitive match. Giving each other orgasm after orgasm until about 11am when you both finally tapped out.
“Are you asking because of what happened at Sam’s house?” Jessie asks.
The two of you had been at a party the night before at Sam’s with the rest of the team, playing various card and board games which led quickly to playing drinking games that somehow always ended up in discussions of everyone’s sex life.
When you started dating, you and Jessie had agreed to not disclose too much about what you two do behind closed doors to your nosey teammates. It was originally an idea out of shyness on Jessie’s part, you had never minded indulging your teammates in your experience but out of respect for Jessie and your relationship you kept your mouth shut for the most part. You started to like the secrecy of what went on in your beds, no one knew the details, just you and her. So when you were asked the craziest thing you’ve done in bed, you sipped away at your drink instead of answering. Unsatisfied with your choice to not answer, Sam began to accuse you and Jessie of having an incredibly boring and “vanilla” sex life. You tried to defend yourself and Jessie, Jessie being too shy to be any help, the teasing from your teammates had only continued.
“No.” You’re quick to answer, not even really thinking. “Okay maybe, I don’t know, I don’t think our sex is boring though, I love having sex with you. It just made me think and just thought I’d ask if there was anything you wanted to try.”
You truly didn’t find your sex life with Jessie boring at all, she was excellent in bed, able to meet and exceed your needs and the two of you being athletes meant you had the stamina to last as long as you wanted. You collectively owned a strap-on and a vibrator but nothing else. It worked for the two of you, it was great sex. But even great sex sometimes could use something new, something for a little change of pace. You also knew Jessie well enough to know even if there was something she was interested in, she most likely would keep it to herself until you pried it out of her.
“I don’t know.” You can tell she’s withholding information, still too shy to put her ideas into words. But you decide not to push it, it was a little bit of a personal question to throw on her and expect an immediate answer.
“Alright babe, if you come up with anything, you can tell me. Want to get a shower?” She nods, finally making eye contact with you as you both get up from the bed and move to the bathroom. You let the question go unanswered for now, secretly hoping Jessie would come up with something to tell you in the next couple of days.
After a week passes since you had asked Jessie if she wanted to try anything out in bed and not getting any form of a hint or answer, you decide maybe a little field trip would help. Maybe Jessie just didn’t know what she wanted to try, maybe this would give her some suggestions.
“Where are we going?” Jessie asked for the fifth time since you told her to get dressed and ready to leave the house. She claimed she needed to know where you were going so she could dress appropriately.
“I’ve told you, it’s a surprise.” You turn back to look at your girlfriend as you grab your keys.
“You know I hate surprises.” She mumbles as she follows you down the hallway from your apartment out the door. Jessie wasn’t a big fan of surprises, she liked having all the information and surprises made her feel out of control.
“Jessie it’ll be fine, I promise. If you hate it for some reason we can leave. Do you trust me?”
“Yes, I trust you.” She gets into the passenger seat of your car and you start driving. You debated having her close her eyes but it didn’t feel necessary, you weren’t going too far. You drove for another 25 minutes before you pulled into the parking lot of a small shop.
“You brought me to an adult store?!” Her voice is a mix of confusion and also a little bit scared.
“Yes, I did but we don’t have to go in if you don’t want to. I just thought, maybe we could look around?” You don’t want her to feel forced, but you thought this would be a good way to maybe suggest new ideas for the two of you.
“What if someone sees us?” You’re convinced her voice is raised a few octaves.
“Jessie, we’re adults. We’re also publicly dating, people know we have sex.”
“Still.” She was bouncing her leg, head swiveling to look around the car to the empty parking lot, and she was nervously playing with her fingers. You start to think maybe you should’ve asked if she’d want to do this before you made it a surprise. Or maybe just going online shopping would’ve been a better choice for someone like Jessie.
“Babe,” you place a hand on her knee, trying to settle it, “we don’t have to go in. If you don’t want to, we won’t. We also can go in and then immediately leave, whatever you want.”
She doesn’t say much, just looking at the door of the shop. You can tell she’s having an argument within herself on what she wants to do. You let her ponder, she slowly stops fiddling with her fingers, wiping her hands, that were likely sweating slightly on her legs.
“Let’s go in.”
“Are you sure?” Now worried she feels forced by you and like she has to go into the store.
“Yeah.” Before she’s able to get out of the car you grab her hand.
“If you want to leave, just tell me, we’ll go.” She nods and you both get out of the car and walk into the store.
You’d been in a store like this once before, buying a joke gift for a bachelorette party, but never when looking for something you actually wanted. The toys you owned had been purchased online.
You didn’t know where to start so you decided to just take a lap around the whole store, then figuring out where you wanted to look. Jessie followed you around like a lost puppy, her eyes barely leaving the floor, glancing up only to look at you.
You move over to the wall of dildos, you liked the one you had for your strap currently, but a new one wouldn’t hurt. It’s a little overwhelming, every color and size imaginable on the wall, ones that vibrate, ones that spin, ones that have heating elements. That sounded like a fire hazard to you. Your eyes scan over all the options, a few catching your eye, you prefer the fun colors, you look at sizes comparable to the one you already owned. It worked for both of you, no reason to make too much of a change with a new one.
You turn to see Jessie, surprised to see she’s actually looking up at the wall instead of the floor. You watch as her eyes scan, before setting on a blue dildo that looks to be slightly larger than the one you already owned. Her eyes wander away and then come back to the blue one. You give her a second to make a decision or movement to grab the toy, she doesn’t.
“You like that one?” You point at it on the wall. Jessie doesn’t say anything, just turning to look at you and then back to the box and then to the floor.
“Jessie, if you want it we can get it.” You notice the slightest nod of her head, but she doesn’t make a move to grab it. You sigh, letting out a small laugh at your girlfriend’s shy behavior, given she was the opposite in the bedroom once you got her going. You take the box off the wall and throw it into the basket you had picked up.
Jessie walks away and out of the section you were in, not saying anything to you. Now it was you who was the one following her around the store. She moves over to a wall of assorted items. Small vibrators, bottles of lube, gags, paddles, all sorts of things. You watch her carefully as her eyes scan again. This time they don’t stop for too long on anything. You assume nothing has peaked her interest. She takes a few steps around the corner to another wall of items. You grab a bottle of lube off the shelf, identical to the one you already owned, you weren’t running out quite yet but there wasn’t really such a thing as too much lube.
You scan the wall yourself before following Jessie around the corner. You see her hand reach out slightly toward something before she withdraws when she notices you coming around the corner. Her hand drops but she’s still looking at it when you come over. It’s a blindfold and handcuff set.
“Really?” You look at her, shock probably across your face as your hand grabs the box. She nods again, still not using her voice. You throw it in the basket. The thought of your hands restrained to the headboard while Jessie had her way with you, or hers being restrained while you got to tease her had you clenching your thighs together, ready to leave the store and try it out.
You are now just following Jessie around the store, less looking for yourself and just watching her eyes carefully as she has yet to actually say any words about what she wants to you. As you walk by a section of harnesses you see ones with a pocket where you could put a vibrator. You try to think if the one you have at home has a pocket but you can’t remember.
“Babe,” you whisper yell across the store to where Jessie was wandering around. She quickly comes over to you. “Does our harness have this pocket? I can’t remember.”
She nods at you and gives a quiet “Yes.”
“Oh, should we get something for it? We don’t have anything small enough to go in there.” You grab for one of the smaller bullet vibrators and hold it up to Jessie, cocking your head to ask her if she wanted it. She just gives you a nod again.
Jessie returns back to where she was before, you follow her over. She’s looking at another wall of assorted items. Only instead of walking past this one her eyes are glancing and then looking away only to draw back to some boxes. When you realize what she's looking at, your jaw nearly falls open, but not wanting to make her question her interest you keep a straight face.
“That?” You point at the silver butt plug Jessie was looking at.
“Only if you’d want it?” You realize she means she wants to use it on you, if you’d let her. You’d never tried it, but figured no harm in trying things out.
“Sure, I’m open to trying whatever with you.” You grab the box, throwing it into your surprisingly full basket. You hadn’t realized how many things you had picked up on your lap around the store.
You’ve nearly made it through the whole store, taking a last stop to look at some of the lingerie. You flip through the options while Jessie is back to standing behind you as if she was hiding. You find a red lacy matching set and throw it into the basket, you look back to see Jessie’s eyes wide as she sees what you had picked out. You flash her a smirk, knowing she’s picturing you wearing the outfit.
“You all done?” You ask your girlfriend. She gives you a nod and reaches into her pocket grabbing out her wallet and handing you her card.
“I’ll get it.” You wave off her card but she sticks the card into your hand again. You roll your eyes, taking her card and turning to go check out, leaving Jessie wandering behind you, not wanting to interact with the employees.
You check out quickly and look back to get Jessie’s attention as you’re ready to leave. She follows you quickly out the door and rushes to the car. You place the bag in the trunk and get in the drivers seat.
“See I knew there was stuff you wanted to try but were too shy to say it.” You poke at her cheek. “You could’ve told me.” You tease her gently you knew she was shy, she always had been since you met her, she was shy with everyone.
She doesn’t say anything but you notice the blush on her cheeks reddening. You decide to leave her be, not wanting to tease her too much. At least not yet, maybe later in the bedroom.
You throw the car in drive and leave the shop, heading home. When you get home you throw the contents of the bag on the bed. “So where do you want to start?” You ask Jessie turning to see her looking at everything you had bought.
“Handcuffs maybe the new dildo too?” She says with a questioning look, one eyebrow raised at you, no longer shy like she was at the store.
You nod quickly at her.
“Get on the bed.” Her tone is demanding, she reaches to pick up the handcuffs and blindfold as she makes her way to the side of the bed. You lay down and Jessie straddles your waist, her weight holding you to the bed. She drops the handcuffs before grabbing your hands with hers interlocking your fingers and pinning your hands above your head with her strength.
She leans down as if she’s going to kiss you, before moving to the side to place her lips against your ear. “This is going to be fun.”
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ms-cartoon · 2 days
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So, I'm looking at the trailer and hear Stolas say something like this . . .
"This transaction between us . . . i-it's not right anymore. I just want someone to care for."
I'm gonna assume he's talking about the exchange of the grimoire for sex with Blitzo. The deal that HE made in the first place????
Okay, first off- What do you mean, it's not right anymore?? NOT ONCE has it EVER been right! Making someone satisfy your pleasures in exchange for giving them something that's impossible to have and you never intended on giving them in the first place unless it benefits you somehow. That is called EXPLOITATION! Children . . . exploiting someone is NEVER a good thing! No matter how badly you want something to happen, it's never good to make someone do something against their will, and Stolas NEVER considered this! And even if he did, I doubt he would've cared!
Why is he suddenly caring now?
Because this is just another way for Viv to throw another Stolas pity party and she needs some kind of tension between Stolas and Blitzo so that their relationship can feel earned later. I think I have a pretty good feeling on what they're gonna make season two about.
This is gonna turn back into the "Stolitzo show" where we focus on the supposed "romance" between Stolas and Blitzo. How are they gonna go about it? Well, I think what's gonna go down is, instead of Stolas being in the wrong for how he treats Blitzo, they're gonna make the latter the bad guy for how he "treats" Stolas. Because blah blah blah, Blitzo doesn't love Stolas back, blah blah he's not considerate of Stolas's feelings for him, blah blah he's being mean, blah blah, he needs to give Stolas a chance. And at the end of the day, Blitzo is gonna feel all sorry and realize he loves Stolas, he apologizes to Stolas, the two are endgame and they live happily ever after! I'm calling it right now! With the way Stolas said what he said above, he's gonna make it seem like he's trying to reason with Blitzo saying the deal for the book is a bad idea as if HE wasn't the one that called Blitzo that one night and made that deal.
Do Viv or the writers ever THINK before writing these down??
Rhetorical quetion.
Edit (4/29/24) It makes no sense for Stolas to suddenly feel regret for this exchange as well as his feelings for Blitzo because of it. In season 1 he went from "Oh Blitzy! You're so hot! Let's have sex!" to "I'm actually genuinely in love with you Blitzo. Let's not do this anymore. I want to take this seriously." Out of nowhere.
Like-- In episode 6, he was lustful for Blitzo and made out with him by the end of the ep, and then suddenly the next episode, he's feeling all lonely and is innocently having feelings for Blitzo. WHERE DID ALL THAT COME FROM?? There was no ounce of development within those episodes!
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risuola · 8 hours
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▶ FAVOR — Satoru has always been unpredictable and straightforward, but even so, the favor he asked for surprised you.
contents: silly Satoru, college!au, roommates, suggestive, humorous (??), male anatomy in brief detail, reader discretion is advised — 0,9k words
a/n: ok, this part is... a little more into 18+ territory but still keeping it light and friendly between the trio. a crack if you will, let's all appreciate the stupid boy Satoru.
𝙇𝙊𝙑𝙀 𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙇𝙀𝙔 | series masterlist
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“Question!”
The moment Satoru stepped into the room, you could tell from the look on his face — the typical mischief twisting his features into a caricature of innocence — that there’s something going on his mind that you may or may not want to know.
“Yes?” You encouraged carefully, flipping your eyes back onto the stack of papers in your hands. Notes, that you wished would transfer their contents onto your brain before you fail tomorrow’s test.
“I have the most random question– a favor, actually and you have to bear with me.”
“Hit me.” You were ready for–
“How many dicks you saw in your life?” –well, not that. “Real life, real dudes, that is. Not porn.”
You blinked.
Once, twice. The air seemed a little thicker than just a moment before and you shouldn’t be surprised. Satoru is unpredictable, he’s vibrant, he’s straight to the point most of the time, but that took you a moment.
“Can you repeat the question?”
“Dicks. Penises, cocks–“
“Yeah, okay, I got that.” You cut him quickly, abandoning the idea of studying and now paying him your entire attention. “You have to give me some context, Toru.”
“I’m curious if you girls have a preference? Speaking about aesthetics. Do you, like, judge the look of a dick?”
“Has anyone made you insecure about the look of your dick or what is it about?” You asked, confused, though confusion would be an understatement to describe the state of your mind now.
“I don’t know, no one said anything but, uh–“ Satoru began, shrugging nonchalantly, but there was a subtle uneasiness hidden underneath his lighthearted tone that you could spot with no mistake. “Every time I am with someone, they look at it as if they saw a ghost and most often it gets me down before the party begins, so it made me wonder.”
You put down the notes, abandoning the hopes and dreams about a good grade tomorrow and your fingers found their way to the bridge of your nose, pinching it — a typical gesture when you tried to collect your thoughts.
“I highly doubt any part of you could not be appealing, Toru. Even your feet are pretty—”
“Irrelevant. So, I’m asking do you have enough picture storage in your head to compare or do girls even pay attention to the looks of a dick?”
“Well, yeah, I guess? I mean, I received a fair share of unwanted dick picks, I’d say I know how a cock look like… But I don’t know, I think the judgement happens automatically,” you said, exhaling. “I think I saw once a very unimpressive dick. The rest was rather similar, I suppose—”
“What do you mean by unimpressive?”
“God, that’s embarrassing. It was my first partner, you probably don’t even know him, but the guy had at max two inches, which is fine as long as you can work with it, but he lasted less than ten seconds and on top of that he was hairy like a gorilla what probably took an entire inch off his length.”
“Wait, you had a hairy gorilla boyfriend and we don’t know about it?”
“It wasn’t my boyfriend, we didn’t even end up having sex. It doesn’t matter, okay?”
“We’ll get back to this, but now, dicks.” Satoru got closer and kneeled on the bed. “So, the favor. Can you be honest? Like, brutally, 100% honest?”
“Honest about wha— Wait, you want me to judge your dick?”
“Yeah?” He looked at you with the pleading expression in his blue eyes, his voice got whiny for a moment and you really wished to flick his forehead right now. “Please? No other girl will be as honest as you and Suguru is not really the respectable source of knowledge about the issue.”
“Christ, okay.”
You agreed.
You said okay, but for some reason it still shocked you when Satoru, instead of talking like he usually does, pulled his sweats down. Looking away was your first reaction. You felt like you shouldn’t be looking, but he literally just asked you to judge, so you slowly allowed your eyes to run down his body, leaving his handsome face and landing finally on the now free manhood, and oh boy, there was a lot to analyze.
The word pretty usually wouldn’t be your first choice when talking about penises. They were usually very similar, more often than not unimpressive and overall uninteresting, but Gojo… He was just that. Pretty. Incredibly long, and girthy too, covered in light skin with the baby pink head. He looked heavy, mouthwatering, like a dessert of sorts. The set of veins spread from below his stomach and wrapped around the shaft. He was mostly clean shaven, with just the tiniest happy trail of white hairs that against his light body was just barely visible.
“And?” He reminded you why you are even taking in the view. “Brutally honest, please.”
“You know what… I really, really hate giving a head, but that dick I’d suck for hours. It actually makes me salivate, you’re fucking pretty Satoru. I don’t get your concern,” you told him, finally looking away and getting your thoughts together, forcing them together. Why was it so hot all of the sudden? “If they look oddly, that’s probably because you’re fucking huge. Christ–”
“It makes you wanna give me a head?” He grinned, obviously catching onto the words you said when you weren’t thinking clearly.
“Hold your horses and pull those pants up. You have nothing to worry about, you’re gorgeous from head to toe, you idiot.”
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taglist: @kibananya, @r0ckst4rjk, @rixo-19, @soraya-daydreams, @hyun0200, @ilykii, @roscpctals99, @mushkasstuff, @siimp4youu, @juicedcherry, @themoreeviltwin, @stevenknightmarc, @ms5m1th
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anqelically · 3 days
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GOODBYE, MY DARLING | BEAST!OSAMU DAZAI
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SUMMARY. you’ve set up a meeting with a member of the port mafia to gain information, yet the man that greets you treats you like an old friend from the past
WARNINGS. fem!reader, 2.8k words, beast!au spoilers, angst, you take oda’s place
NAVI | BSD MASTERLIST
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you were never too keen on the idea of meeting someone whose face you’ve never seen. as a cautious woman, who also worked as a detective for a living, you’d normally deny a meeting with someone unfamiliar. however, to deny a gathering in your current situation could cost the life of a boy you took in as a subordinate.
the lives of those younger than you were of the utmost importance.
ryunosuke akutagawa was your subordinate, who, blindly, stormed into the headquarters of the most dangerous organization in yokohama. in order to save his little sister, akutagawa broke into the port mafia’s building by himself to get her back.
since he was a member of the agency, it was part of your mission to rescue him. as you walked towards a lone bar in ginza, you never forgot that. a cigarette burned away in your dominant hand as you walked towards bar lupin.
your aim was to aid akutagawa in what would happen after his escape from the port mafia. the reason you were meeting with the person in charge of of monetary security for the mafia was to gain information. with a threat dangerous to the port mafia, a bargain can be made. the akutagawas can be safe from the port mafia, and the port mafia can be safe from the government.
the cigarette in your hand was put out when you rubbed it against the brick wall. you threw the unfinished product into the trashcan nearby before you took quiet steps down the stairs towards the bar. you were sure it was the location based on the sign outside.
the moment you had opened the door, the mellow, low tune of jazz reached your ears. your e/c eyes scanned the almost empty bar in front of you. at the actual bar itself sat one lone man. from his stature, he was definitely not the old man you were expecting.
his hair, dark as coffee beans, covered his face before he turned around. a smile adorned the unfamiliar man’s face as he looked at you with a shine in his rich, brown eye. the other one seemed to be wrapped in bandages, just like the ends of his arms. he was handsome, if you had to say. but for someone dressed like a port mafia hitman, he greeted you like you knew each other well.
“n/n, it’s been a while,” he spoke, voice soft. “were you smoking again? i can smell the stench from a mile away, you know.”
“i suppose it’s not unusual for you to smell it,” you responded. “but you say it’s been a while... have we met before?”
the man closed his eye, an almost silent sigh escaping his mouth. once you could see his uncovered eye again, the shine that was once there seemed to dull. it was still there, but harder for you to see in the dimly lit bar. he pushed down the sphere of ice in his drink.
“no, we haven’t met yet. this is the first time. the first time i’ve entered this bar, first time i drank here, first time we’ve met here, in this crazy world. a whole lotta firsts, wouldn’t you say, n/n?”
“yeah, it’s a lot.”
you found yourself sitting one stool away from the man. a bittersweet silence was draped amongst the two of you and for some reason, you felt the urge to change it as soon as possible. you wanted to fall into light conversation you’d normally have with someone close to you. it was odd, really. you were here for a purpose, yet you sat by idly.
“hey, i’ve got a question.” if the man wasn’t going to speak first, you would. you asked, “if we’re going to sit here, what should i call you? i doubt you’d want me to call you mister bandages.”
“well, calling me yours would be just fine,” he playfully smirked at you. “darling wouldn’t be bad either.”
“so it’s going to be like that?”
“of course it is. i have a nickname for you, and you have one for me. it’s only fair, isn’t it? but, i have a question for you. if we’re going to be here, what would you like to drink? pick your poison, belladonna.”
you let your chin rest on your hand, “well, i usually only drink with my coworkers and when i’m tired. i always have a lime margarita, if you can make that for me, darling.”
he smiled as he went behind the bar, “hm, i suppose i can make it. but since you’re here with me for the first time, how about we drink something else for the first time too? i can make a mean french martini, surprisingly. i’ve watched it get made plenty of times.”
“if you insist, go ahead. if it tastes bad, don’t be surprised when i give you 0 stars.”
“ouch, how low.”
dazai, to your surprise, began to create the drink as if he knew the bar like the back of his hand. he grabbed the right drinks from their respective places without even looking at the labels to create the cocktail. it was as if the bar was his.
while he was at it, you asked him something that had been bothering you from the moment he first talked. “you called me n/n when i entered the bar, so it’s safe to say that it refers to me. why call me that?”
“why?” he hummed. “i should ask you that. do you not like it?”
“it doesn’t bother me in the slightest. it’s just… no one has ever called me that before. everyone just calls me y/n, but not you, clearly.”
he lowered his gaze and the corners of his lips turned up. that smile of his, you could read it clear as day. you were able to tell that this man wasn’t smiling from what you’ve said, not even genuinely smiling. he smiled for the sake of himself. you didn’t know what he was thinking or feeling, but you were sure it had to do with yourself. there was no way it didn’t.
“and no one’s ever called me their darling until you have, n/n. it’s another first for the both of us, and we did it together. but hey, i have some stories i’ve been living to tell you. can i?”
after giving him the go-ahead, he excitedly talked about dealing with a bomb and giving his underlings firm tofu. the way he told his stories was like a little child coming home from the first day of school and telling their parents about their new friends.
once he was done, he slid the drink right in front of you and took a seat. however, it was not the seat he was originally at when you walked into the bar. getting closer that he was, he sat on the stool to your left. he held up his drink and, as if it were engraved into your body, you clinked your glass against his without a thought.
“well go ahead, taste it! let’s see if it really is worth 0 stars,” he urged you.
the way he stared into your eyes with anticipation, it was another strange thing you’ve noticed. he was genuinely happy. he was probably the strangest person you’ve ever met, and you’ve met some odd people.
after having a thought, you picked up the glass. you pressed it against your lips and took a sip, aware of the eye on you. once you swallowed and set the drink down, you could see a satisfied smile in your peripheral vision.
“good, huh?” the brunette asked.
“it really is,” you confirmed. “not 0 stars.”
“see? what did i tell you, belladonna? a french martini suits you, though. you can always ask me to make you some if you want.”
“maybe. i’d ask if you can cook as well, but your firm tofu says otherwise.”
he chuckled, “yeah, i’m not much of a cook. i always had someone else cook for me. it was edible too. she was much better than i was at cooking. at a lot of things, actually.”
“she seems like a woman of talent.”
“that’s right, she was. i’ve missed her… i’ve missed her a lot these past years.”
“a mother?”
“nope, my mom had been long gone from my life. this woman… she was much more than that.”
you couldn’t find anything else to say, so you remained quiet. that was, until the bandage-wearing man brought up why you two even decided to meet in the first place. he asked for more details.
“a subordinate of mine is in danger, and i want to cut a deal. it’d be a miracle if he came out it one piece, let alone with the person he’s been searching for. if he makes it out, i have no doubt that the port mafia will hunt him down. i want to cut a deal that’ll benefit us both.”
after contemplating, he murmured, “akutagawa’s lucky to have come across a good teacher like you.”
“excuse me?”
“you don’t need to worry about akutagawa. after today, the mafia will never lay another finger on him. there’s no catch; he’ll be able to live the rest of his life in peace... besides, this is what i’ve had planned since the beginning... if he makes it out of the mafia headquarters alive, that is.”
what he told you was was confirmed your suspicions. taking another sip of the martini, you looked him straight in the eye. you’ve let yourself come off as laid back, but now your expression was stern. he was caught off-guard.
“tell me, why did you lure him? why did you lure akutagawa into your headquarters, osamu dazai?”
it went silent, so much so that the music didn’t reach either of your ears.
“guess you’ve figured it out. i can’t fool you, can i?” he quipped. “you’ve always been quite intelligent.”
“you’re the gave out the hints. when talking about the tofu, you talked about underlings. you spoke like you had a lot of them. then, you talked about akutagawa without me even saying his name. not to mention how you’ve had plans from the beginning. only the port mafia’s boss would know, and be able to plan much. you’re the reason akutagawa is searching for his sister in the first place. this is over.”
“no, wait-!”
dazai reached out his arm, but he halted at the familiar click of a gun. his eye widened and he could only look at you with a horrified expression. he didn’t even have to look down to know your trusty pistol was in your hand.
“please put the gun away,” dazai begged, his face contorting to an expression of sorrow.
“i’m sorry, but i’m afraid i can’t do that. if i do, who knows what’ll happen to me? but then again, i’m already screwed if this is a trap. the port mafia’s boss is cunning, so i’m done acting like we’re close.”
“i didn’t want to become the boss! i… and i didn’t think of it as an act, not at all. it’s the truth, i swear.”
he looked at you so sincerely that you almost dropped the gun from your side. raw emotion was behind his words, or so you thought. maybe he could still be lying to you? maybe lying to himself. after all, there are liars so good that they’ve deceived themselves.
you looked down at your lap, “i guess that i’ve got to come up with another plan for saving akutagawa. well, if i can leave this establishment alive, that is.”
dazai insisted, “this isn’t a trap. i would never even dream of doing something like that to you, n/n.”
“my name is l/n y/n, not n/n.”
another shot to the chest.
“right, y/n. you asked me why i lured akutagawa to the mafia headquarters, right? well, i did it to protect this world.”
you raised a brow, “this world?”
“this is but one of countless worlds. and in another world, the original world, you and i were- we were—”“
“i love you,” he recalls the light touch of your fingers burning up his skin, “and there’s nothing in any universe that would change that.”
“—we were friends. you and i were friends in the original world. we drank at this bar and spent time together talking about the most insignificant things.”
dazai can also remember your last moments. you were laying in your own pool of blood when he finally caught up to you. when you spoke to him, you spoke in that same calm voice you’ve always had. and then, the smoke of the cigarette in your hand had dissipated into nothing, just like the light in your eyes.
“even if that were true, that doesn’t change what you did to akutagawa and his sister. you separated them, and now here we are,” you reminded dazai. “we may have been close in the original world, as you call it, but we are enemies now.
“i love you—“
dazai’s eyes searched for something the air that wasn’t there. his eye darted around, and his lips would slightly part and shut after a few seconds. his face twisted as he continued to remember everything.
“—and there’s nothing in any universe that would change that.”
“it was hard... it was really hard fighting mimic without you in the organization. i had no choice but to take over for mori and make enemies of everyone around me to expand the business,” dazai finally looked back at you. slowly, his hands reached for your cheeks. “everything i did was for this world’s- for you. i needed a world where you can sit here, happy with the people around you again.”
for a reason you couldn’t decipher, the hand that held your gun began to tremble. well, maybe it had been trembling for a long time and you were only now just recognizing it. dazai’s hands, cold and soft at the touch, held your face as if you were the most delicate thing in the world.
it was a touch of a lover.
coming down to that conclusion, everything made sense to you. dazai always looked at you like you were closest thing to him, a lifeline if you may. his nicknames, the flirting, it was all because...
“we were in a relationship, weren’t we?”
dazai would’ve missed your words if the proximity between the two of you wasn’t this close. the way he froze in his spot had answered enough, and you could only sigh. slowly, you put your gun back into your jacket and rested your hands on dazai’s.
you gently pried his hands off of your face and held them between your own. you felt no specific feelings from the action, but you were sure dazai did based off of how his face softened.
“i’m sorry, but you have to leave your feelings out of this. i don’t know how you know what happened in the original world, and i won’t ask. i just have to tell you that i don’t feel what you do. like i said, you and i are enemies here. as long as you control the port mafia and i’m part of the armed detective agency, it’ll remain this way.”
“nothing in any universe that would change that.”
“i see,” dazai took his hands back and rested them on his lap. “well, the reason i invited you here in the first place was to say goodbye.”
“you really don’t plan on ever seeing me again?”
“you said it, didn’t you? we’re enemies as long as we’re associated with the organizations we’re in. so after today, i won’t see you again. it’ll only hurt more if i do.”
“then this makes this a goodbye,” you watched as he stood up from his stool, hands in his pockets.
“yes, it does. a life with someone you can say goodbye to is a good life, especially when it hurts so much to say it to them. am i wrong?”
“i guess you wouldn’t be... i haven’t said goodbye to anyone and have it pain me,” you replied, feeling bad for the port mafia’s boss.
“i hope you don’t for a long time. but one day, that time will come. you won’t be prepare for it, but all i can tell you is to let it in. feel everything, and see where it takes you.” dazai faintly smiled before he turned his back to you and began to walk away, “goodbye, n/n.”
“goodbye, my darling.”
painfully, dazai grit his teeth and resisted thew urge to look back. in goodbyes, that’s what they always do. they turn around and crash into the person they’re supposed to be leaving. he didn’t want to do that. this was his goodbye to you, even if it didn’t mean much. if he was going to keep this world functioning, he won’t leave it with you in any pain.
‘be happy, okay? even if it’s without me, be happy. as long as you’re alive, somewhere, i’ll be happy too’
it was a final thought he kept to himself.
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NOTE. this remains one of my favorite fics i wrote (i <3 beast!dazai) so i had to bring it over first 🤞🏻
—reblog to support an author + join my taglist !
@lovedazai @enoojnij @spenzitz @aeshiiteiru @chuuyrr @ma3mae @piichuu @dreamlessimp @4nthonyyliving @ruru-kiss @worldussysblog @janbannan @underthetree845 @little-miss-chaoss @siiyoko @osameowdazai
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wittlesissyb4by · 17 hours
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"Okay, so remember, once we have them in their diaper, it's really important that we praise them. They're going to be very averse to their new lifestyle at first, but they have to get used to it.
So we want them to associate their diaper with good things, at least in the beginning. Tell them they're a good boy, that they look super cute in their wittle diapurrs. Pinch their cheeks, boop their nose, and talk to them in your little singsong voice. Guys aren’t used to getting compliments and affection as much, so if they receive that sort of praise and physical touch while they’re in a diaper, they’ll warm up to the idea a lot faster than you think.
Now, once we’ve got them pampered and praised, I like to put a pacifier in their mouth. I find it really helps them regress a few years, makes them more docile, and it keeps them quiet other than their adorable little whimpers. It’s hard for them to do much arguing or fussing when they’re suckling a binky!
After they’ve been praised and regressed a bit, it’s time to *really* get them enjoying their diapers. That means: we’re going to make them cum.
I know, I know, this whole thing is supposed to be a ‘punishment’, but trust me, the ends will justify the means. If it makes you feel any better, the only time they will get to cum from now on will be when they’re in a diaper. That means no sex, and constant supervision to prevent masturbation. You control their orgasms, just like you control where they go potty.
So when we make them cum in their diaper, we never want to reach into the actual diaper. That kind of defeats the purpose. We want them to feel the padding, hear the crinkles, all while changing the way they traditionally garner sexual stimulation.
So what I like to do is place my palm right here on the outside of the diaper, right between their legs, and feel around for their winky. Those of you that have hubbies with little nubbies may have a harder time finding it, but honestly, even if you’re not directly on it, that’s okay. You’ll find they’ll aim their hips the right way for you.
Once you’re on it, you’re just going to do a simple kneading motion back and forth just like this. Long, slow movements at first. Don’t start too fast. You want them to really take in the feelings and sensations. You’ll even see them get a little desperate for more, and it’s up to you if you want to speed up and go a bit harder, keep that same pace, or just take your hand away and watch them wiggle and whimper.
But the most important thing is that this entire stimulation process is never silent. In addition to the crinkling, you want to continue praising them. Really dial up the baybee talk here. You should be reminding them what a good little boi (or gurl!) they are. Remind them what they’re wearing. Obviously they know they are in a diaper, but you need to vocalize it.
‘Wook how cute the wittle baybee is in his diapee!’
‘Hubby wooks so adorwable in his Huggies!”
Things like that.
If they have an erection—which I’m sure they will from all the rubbing—point that out to them: ‘oh my goodness! I didn’t think these pampers could make your pee pee so pointy!’ or ‘somewon sure is getting hard in their Huggies!!’
If they have messes, praise them for that as well. Nothing like getting complimented for pissing or pooping in a pamper. Again, we’re just trying to emphasize the state at which they’re in.
Another way to do that is to have them tell you. Make them vocalize these things:
“Tell me what you’re wearing little boi!”
“Why is it so plump? Did you do something in there? Tell me what you did.”
“Is that something a big boi would do??”
Make them use their little baybee voice, make them lisp, make them make it high-pitched, and make them do all of it with that pacifier still in their mouth!
If they do it properly, reward them with rubbies, if they’re stubborn or not performing up to your standards, pull your hand away. You’ll have them babbling like a baybee in no time!
I know some Mommies that will only do the rubbies while their hubby is jiggling a rattle. If the rattling stops, so do they. Feel free to be creative, as long as they’re being patronized while they’re pampered, you’re doing the right thing!
Alright, so after a few minutes—or maybe even a few seconds—they’re going to be ready to cum. Make sure you emphasize that they have to tell you when they’re close, and they have to do it in baybee talk. I like to have them tell me they have to make a ‘goo goo’. But you can use whatever term you want.
At this point we’re gonna do what’s called a ‘ruined’ orgasm. For those that don’t know, that’s where you get them right up to the edge when they’re babbling and rattling and goo goo ga ga’ing, wait until you see them first start to spasm—then lift your hand away. If you do it right, they’ll be past the point of no return, and all their little stickies will leak out, but they’ll only have a fraction of a pleasurable orgasm.
This is important, because it puts them in this sort of limbo. Where they’re a little satisfied but also still a bit horny and desperate. Don’t be surprised if they whine and cry about it either—you know how men can be. But that’s when you tell them one of your most important lines:
‘Maybe next time!’
That will leave them literally cumming back for more. They’ll be desperate for their next diaper, their next rubbie, or the next stage of their training.
But another important step here is to make them sit in their shame. Keep them in their sticky diaper for a bit, at least an hour or two. Let them feel the warmth of their little load that they made—all while they were in a diaper. And the only way they get to make a load like that again is…in a diaper. We really want to drive this point home. They are not going to cum without the constant sound of crinkling coming with it. They don’t get the love, touch, and affection while they’re in silly boxers and big boy clothes. The only way they get pleasure is when they’re in their pampers.
Wives never believe me, but i promise you, eventually, they’ll actually beg you to put them in a diaper, just so you can make them cum again.
But what we’re not going to tell them is that we’re eventually going to wean them off. They’re not going to get to cum every time they put on a diaper. For the first dozen times or so, yes, they get an orgasm (even a full one) every single time. But then it becomes “well only if your diaper is wet”, which makes them feel good about wetting, cause then they get a rubbie reward. But then they’ll grow used to that as well, so we have to constantly find ways to push their limits.
Wait until you see their face when they push their first poop into their pamper. They’re sooo embarrassed, but they’re willing to do it, all because you said you would give them a goo goo if they make a poo poo. But of course, what you don’t tell them, is that they’re gonna have to cum while they’re still inside their messy diaper. Don’t worry girls, if you get too disgusted, just make them turn over and turn their rubbies into humpies!!
Ohh I just love helping wives turn their useless/ungrateful husbands into helpless and desperate diaper dumpers! I know some that have their husbands wearing huggies 24/7, and sometimes even in dresses too! Even the most homophobic, chauvinistic pig can be turned into a pamper packer, all it takes is a little TLC.
Men are so easy, you can literally control their whole life, as long as you control when and where their balls get emptied. Which reminds me: next week, our workshop is going to talk about a little thing called a ‘chastity device’!!
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I wrote a caption very similar to this a while back on one of my old blogs, but it was lost in the purge. I tried to recreate it as best I could, but I may have missed the mark. If you like my captions, please consider supporting me so I can keep making more. Go to allmylinks.com to follow me on other sites!
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francesderwent · 1 day
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so I heard you wanna talk religion in ttpd! let’s talk I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can).
“they shake their heads saying ‘God help her’ when I tell ‘em he’s my man.” this isn’t the outright controlling judgment of the saboteurs in But Daddy I Love Him. nobody is trying to tell her what to do or force her to break up. this is a simple admission that the situation she’s in is difficult, that she’s chosen a hard path and needs help. and what is her response? “your good Lord doesn’t need to lift a finger, I can fix him, no really I can.” she admits salvation is needed. but Taylor is casting herself as the savior. she doesn’t need any help, any grace, any divine assistance. in fact, she doubles down: “only I can”. she and she alone has the power to reform this man, because of the love between them. it’s reminiscent of False God, except now the idol isn’t their love, it’s just her. she’s going to save him.
what’s interesting to me is we don’t know how the themes of salvation would have been recapitulated in light of the reversal at the end of the song, “whoa maybe I can’t”, because the song ends there. maybe she can’t fix him because he is ultimately unfixable, irredeemable, worthless. or maybe she can’t fix him because she’s not God. and honestly, I think the song is meant to leave us wondering. she’s waking up to reality, but is the reality his smallness of soul or her power trip?
so what is the blatant Christian language in this song for? is it telling us that Christianity is evil for implanting the idea of redemption into our minds when it doesn’t really exist? or is it a hint that trying to become our own gods, even with the best of intentions, is a pathway that leads only to death?
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the-lil-spud · 2 days
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Mama Didn't raise no Bimbo!
Y/n was thrown head first into Hell - like everyone she has to find her own path and she was doing pretty darn good but what happens when she finally comes across the three Vee's who don't necessarily like to share...
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five
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This was such a bad idea!
Such a bad idea! How did Angel Dust manage to convince you to do this was beyond you. But here you are gripping the handle of the front door of the Vee’s Tower.
“Oh, I’m just running a little late at work honey, meet me at the tower and we will head to the clubs from there,” you mocked under your breath as you turned the handle. Swear, if that Valentino tries to get you to join a porno you will kill Angel.
Deep breaths. Entering the main foyer, you squint because of all the damn bright lights, screens, and décor. Spying all the cameras you drag your coat closer to your body. No hiding from anyone here. You make your way up to the receptionist desk as instructed by your lovely ‘friend’.
“Hey sugar, I’m here to see Angel Dust, they’re expecting me don’t suppose you could tell me where I should be going could ya?” Giving your best winning smile at the bored receptionist, at her unimpressed flicker of her eyes going over your outfit and hair you could feel the smile start to strain. Like everyone, your appearance changed when you came to Hell, and you considered yourself lucky that you mainly had humanistic characteristics – the fangs, violet eyes, skin as white as snow and wicked pink highlights in your hair you just considered as an extra – it could be so much worse. You have seen much worse.
Smoothing your hands over the coat you let your smile drop and narrowed your eyes at the receptionist. Down here in Hell you were sure others just made situations difficult to be difficult. Actually… that was probably true. They were just the worst down here.
Popping her gum in your face you could feel your eyebrow start to twitch. Bitch. Tapping away on her keyboard she proceeds to ignore you for a few moments before pointing at a sign which told you which floors for what people. Seeing Valentino’s floor, you assume that’s where you should be heading. Thanking the receptionist – though she didn’t exactly do anything but affect your confidence in your outfit – you make your way over to the elevators, getting in as soon as one arrived and jabbing at Valentino’s floor.
Crossing your fingers you wouldn’t meet that particular Overlord, considering the receptionist was a pain in the ass you could only imagine what he would be like and from the horror stories Angel Dust told you – you really didn’t wanna meet him.
Reaching the floor quicker than you expected you straighten out your outfit, slightly regretting the black stilettos but they were the only decent heels you have in your closet for dancing, plus the neon pink on the base matched your accessories and splashes of colour on your dress. You fully embraced the image that you were a bimbo, it helped with tips and your image at work. As a singer and a dancer at one of the clubs on Pride Circle, the dumber you appeared the more people underestimated you. And you just loved it when they underestimated you.
It's where you met Angel Dust, in one of the first clubs that you were working at. Through him you then met Alastor who after hearing you sing a few older songs then allowed you to sing on his Radio Show (on occasion) and from him you then met Rosie who put in a good word for you with your now current boss at one of the more respectable (using that term loosely) clubs in Pride Circle. Which is the only reason why you would enter the Vee’s Tower – you owed Angel Dust a lot this was a small ask.
Stepping onto Valentino’s floor the smell of smoke, sex and sweat hit you like a wall. Flickering your violet eyes around you spied the Spider speaking to the Overlord. Damn. Seeing that the conversation wouldn’t be ending any time soon you huffed under your breath before making your way to them.
“Angel, sugar, you ready to go?” You ask when you reach the two, keeping your gaze on him as from the corner of your eye you see the tall Overlord swivel on the spot. Angel’s eyes connect with yours before trying to hide a grimace.
“Heyyy gorgeous, listen it’s gonna be a little later than we planned I’ve just gotta film one more scene then we can go”, catching the mouthed sorry at the end. Smiling understandingly at him you shrug your shoulders.
“Oh no problemo honey, want me to stay or I can meet you at the club?” secretly crossing your fingers that they’d say to meet you at the club.
“Ah no it’s cool if you stay, right Val? Y/n can stay for the last scene?” Bugger. Turning your winning smile up at the infamous Valentino only to see their stare was focused on you already with an menacing smile pulling his face into a sinister expression which made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up on end.
“Ah the famous Y/n, Angel talks about you all the time – don’t you baby! Course you can stay and watch. What about if you participate as well, I could get you a job princessa, with those legs, boobs and that pout you are a star waiting to happen. I could get a contract written up in seconds if you want-“He pulls a deep drag from his cigarette and blows it all around so you three were in a cloud of hazy red smoke. Holding back a cough you try to keep the smile on your lips.
“Thank you for the offer, Sir, but I am happy with my job at the moment but as soon as I want a change in career, I’ll let you know”, I reply to the Overlord. A bead of sweat drips down the back of my neck. Valentino’s anger was legendary. To refuse him was to insult him. And you had done all that within a few moments of meeting him. Plus being close to Angel Dust was another factor against you – he was so jealous over Angel.
His smirk grew as he gazed over your outfit. Well, a smirk was better than shouting, right?
“Shame. You could be a star,” another drag of his cigarette before shrugging you off and directing Angel back to the stage. Quickly winking at the spider, you make your way over to a few chairs that were against the wall. Shrugging your coat off you turn to see a few creeps eyeing you up, bloody perverts. Baring your fangs at them you sit down and yank your phone out from your purse.  
A sigh leaves your lips, crossing your leg over the other, you peruse Sinstagram while trying to block out the sounds coming from Angel and the other demons and sinners in the scene. Checking on the progress of a few photos of the outfit that you shared earlier of what you were wearing tonight which you had tagged in Velvette as she was the designer of your dress: a tight black dress with stripes of neon pink, ruffles of the neon around the off-shoulder neckline and other intricate details – it reminded you of Marilyn Monroes pink dress, so you had saved up for months to buy it. The almost velvet material clung to your curves in the most delicious way and the colours just accentuated your hair, skin, and eyes. If no one could tell - you just loved pink and again it helped the Bimbo image you put across.
Brushing the waves of hair out of your face you look up and again see a certain Overlord’s stare focused on you, his own phone clutched in his hand. Careful not to challenge him by looking at him head on you keep your gaze soft and lowered.  The issue with Valentino was he didn’t always accept no as an answer. And you were so not ready to become a porn star. To be honest since arriving in Hell you hadn’t even entertained any one in your bed. More concerned with getting somewhere safe to live, safe(ish) to work and try not to get mauled, raped or murdered every day seemed to take up your energy. Which is why Angel wanted to go out tonight – to try and get you laid. Chuckling softly as you remembered his horrified face when you said you hadn’t had sex in over a year you let your violet gaze glance over to him. Wincing slightly at the position he was in at the moment, which really could not be comfortable, you let your attention go back to your phone ignoring both the Overlord and Angel as a slight vibrate notified you that a certain Vee had liked your post.
Your mouth opens in shock when you see THE Velvette had liked your photo. Heart racing a little you couldn’t control the smile that stretched across your lips, holding in the little squeal you desperately wanted to let out you settled for giving a little excited wiggle in your seat. Or you were until a shadow encased you. Looking up you lock eyes with the main V. Vox. Uh oh. “And who is this lovely lady, Val?”
Sooooo ... for a first chapter what did ya thinkkkkkk?
A03 Link is here
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braidedhades · 2 days
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just found out that non-aromantics actually have feelings towards the people they decide to have a crush on. Apparently it’s not like, “hmmm should I consider this person for dating? what are the pros and cons here?” Or like, “I want to be really close friends with that person” But it’s like an actual emotional response or something? An emotion that is different from the “I wanna be really close friends” emotion??
also I just figured out that I’m aromantic
#I’m also ace but I already knew that#Shout out to Jaiden Animations#Never would have figured this stuff out this quickly otherwise#asexual#aromantic#aroace#My first “crush” was Carmen San Diego#I was 18yrs old and that “crush” lasted 2 days#Turns out she wasn’t as pretty when she wasn’t wearing her signature outfit#I didn’t actually have a crush on her I just really liked her outfit#I think I just decided that “ya know I should’ve had a crush on someone by now kinda weird that it hasn’t happened yet”#And then I just picked the first pretty girl I saw#She’s animated so I guess that made it less weird than having a crush on a random stranger#But like there were no actual romantic emotions there#Didn’t know that there were supposed to be any but oh well#The whole “I wanna be really close friends with that person” thing really threw me off for a while#Cuz I thought that was what romantic attraction was#But apparently it’s not???#Too confusing we should just get rid of romance#Honestly my idea of the “ideal romantic/queerplatonic relationship” should have tipped me off sooner that I was aro#It was “a close friend who lives in the same house as me but we have separate bedrooms and sometimes we cuddle on the couch but not…#… always and we don’t hold hands or kiss or anything but we just act like really good but close friends because that’s what I think a…#… romantic relationship is two people who are really close friends”#might delete later I dunno just kinda rambling and I’m really tired
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jiangwanyinscatmom · 2 days
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I do think a lot of people that read WWX's story fall into the same trappings the world in story said about him by placing credibility on what is said by the ones in supposed great and respectable standing then a man that wasn't considered to be any of that in their eyes and therefore able to be derided and hated. What WWX did was a condemnation by the traditional classist world that is and should be criticized by it's modern audience from the start.
We are not supposed to excuse or find anything reasonable in the actions of the jianghu who did use and then condemned him for their own prosperity. As well as killing those under his protection because they themselves knew what they did was vile and something to be ashamed of when exposed by the Wens rising up from the blood pools. It was a cruel and hateful thing to have done. Yet none of them do have the honor of admitting to following those in power fully for the idea of clout, not for actual morality, just lies selfishness and cruelty to be sanctimonious.
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bestworstcase · 1 day
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i think people who treat summer joining salem as synonymous with ‘summer is BAD and EVIL’ are cowards actually
the central conceit, the essential idea that makes it compelling, is that “she was always the best of us” is true; that summer rose was and is the kind of person who could look into the face of someone she’d been led to believe was a soulless, inhuman monster, the root of all evil in the world, and see a person, and want to help her. that summer rose was and is the true ideal of what a huntress is supposed to be—compassionate, righteous, honorable, merciful, someone who stands to defend those who cannot defend themselves—and that is why she joined salem.
because the divine plan is horrific and once she learned the truth, she could not return home to be complicit in upholding it. she had to do the right thing.
summer rose is not a cautionary tale or a victim or a monster or a tragedy or a fallen hero; she is the answer. how do you stop salem? you help her.
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shares-a-vest · 3 days
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Just a Shirt (Read on ao3)
wc: 1.9k | Rated: T | cw: Mild descriptions of Steve's s4 injuries (mostly the scar on his neck), Hospital mention, Brief mention of nightmares
Tags: Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Post s4 Fix-it (Everyone Lives), Hellfire, Fluff and Angst (Happy Ending), Love Confessions, Injury, Cuddling
Eddie makes Steve a customised Hellfire shirt, just for him. Based off this ficlet/headcanon. But the BIGGEST thank you goes to @tangerinesteve (formally babydollbaron) for their incredible tags below. They gave me the biggest and softest brainworms. I hope I did your wonderful ideas justice!
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“Here-p,” Eddie mumbles, pushing a too-neatly folded shirt into Steve’s hands.
“Uh, thanks,” his boyfriend hums, quirking a brow in confusion.
Eddie shrugs the whole thing off for good measure because it’s just a shirt – that’s all it is.
... But not really.
Like, at all.
He looks away, avoiding Steve’s gaze. While their relationship isn’t too new for gifts, it might be too fresh for a t-shirt that screams, ‘You are part of me and I can see that you are in pain and I think I can fix it. Nay, I need to make you comfortable’.
Yeah… it’s perhaps a little too premature for something that says all that.
So Eddie looks at the floor, his beige sock blending into the similarly-coloured carpet that lines Steve’s bedroom. His foot really only looks like an actual foot and not a patch of carpet thanks to the hole in his sock that is currently exposing his pinky toe.
It’s just a shirt, he desperately reminds himself as he catches Steve unfurling it out of the corner of his eye.
It’s just a shirt.
A customised Hellfire shirt he made especially for Steve.
One that is two sizes too big, made of the softest cotton and led to an emptying of his wallet to obtain. A Hellfire shirt that has short sleeves and a loose, scooped neck Eddie fashioned himself after borrowing a sewing book from the library. A neckline he sewed on Mrs Pemberton’s machine after crossing the trailer park and answering a slew of questions from an all too inquisitive Max Mayfield.
It’s a Hellfire shirt in its logo only – despite what his friends might think. Or the fuss all his pea-brained lost little sheepie buddies kicked up along the way.
They have been a total nightmare these past few weeks, scheming and plotting and sabotaging like a little hoard of gremlins. But Eddie supposes he can really only blame himself.
He should have never said anything, never asked Gareth for the original master copy of the Hellfire logo he knows his best friend keeps filed away in secret on the rare occasions they let in new members. Or to get new t-shirts printed in instances of spilled beverage-based stain emergencies. But then Gareth of course squealed to Jeff, who teased Eddie mercilessly before blabbing to Freak, who, well… Freaked about the possibility of a jock joining Hellfire.
The shock. The horror! Oh, the humanity!
And then came what was nothing short of a campaign via Dustin, Mike and Will, all collectively working to not only prevent Eddie from something he wasn’t even going to do in the first place but to also create a drama so seismic that rumours got around the whole of Hawkins that one Eddie Munson would no longer be running his little ‘demonic’ social club.
Or at least that’s what Wayne said Ernie at the plant had told him that his son had said.
The only thing is, Eddie feels more than a little sorry for Lucas Sinclair, a kid now sulking around, utterly crestfallen that his favourite Laundry Basket Friend isn’t also secretly a full-blown nerd.
It’s just that Eddie wanted to give Steve a nice, soft, comfy shirt he had hoped he would look at just like he is right now.
Besides, Steve had admitted that he liked the Hellfire logo months back when they first started dating. Told Eddie it was, “So creative, man”, after expressing some mild disappointment that he hadn’t shown up for their first date wearing it.
He smiles at the memory, Steve’s eyes lighting up as soon as he hopped into the Beemer, far too eager to head off to Benny’s Diner that he hadn’t even bothered to let Steve chivalrously walk up to the front stoop of the new and improved Casa de Munson.
“Eddie…” Steve says, his voice just above a whisper and sounding just as soft as the too-important shirt in his grip.
“Don’t worry,” he snorts, “I’m not making you join or anything it’s just… You said you haven’t been sleeping well…”
He gestures with his hand, searching for the right words. Better words that won’t sound so monumental and weighted as Steve’s eyes trail right along the shirt’s scooped neckline.
The hem is probably a little flimsy, but hopefully, Steve won’t fucking claw at it like the old Tigers gym shirt he almost tore in two a few weeks back after bolting upright in a sweat after a nightmare. That is what did it – really set Eddie on his mission. Seeing Steve’s sniffles turn to tears and how he tried to hide them away, shrugging Eddie off before rushing to the ensuite bathroom.
He had come back a few minutes later, eyes red as he hugged his arms across himself, appearing small and frightened but acting cold as ice.
“Yeah…” Steve nods before mouthing what appears to be the word, “soft”, as he balls the fabric between his fingers.
“Hell, I know you haven’t been sleeping,” Eddie continues to ramble, “Just… tossing and turning. Also your… Y’know…”
He gestures to his own neck, referring to the still-reddened scar around Steve’s. One that Eddie knows leaves his throat scratchy and hoarse at the slightest provocation. A mark that nosey townspeople gawk at when Steve is at work, leaving him all embarrassed and well, not like Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington at all.
And Steve hadn’t even told Eddie about that part. Nope. He found out from Robin, who swung by the mechanic one afternoon, inconsolable about her best friend spending their shift at Family Video hidden away in Keith Anderson’s stinky loser palace of an office.
“Mhmm,” Steve nods, pursing his lips.
Eddie knows he isn’t mad – it’s just something his boyfriend doesn’t talk about. That he doesn’t like talking about.
He needn’t ramble anymore, really – fill the silence between them or attempt to explain himself because, in a flash, Steve slips off his tight-fitting navy polo and replaces it with his new Hellfire shirt.
And Eddie can’t help but beam at a job well done.
It hangs nicely. Loose enough to sleep in, but not billowing so much to swallow that physique entirely. The neckline sits just where he had hoped too, much lower than the regular Hellfire shirts, scooped below Steve’s collar bones so that even if it stretches in his sleep, it couldn’t possibly pull and tug at his scar.
It’s perfect.
Exactly what he wanted to give Steve, who looks down at the devilish, very metal logo – a sight that is sure to scare off his snooty parents for good if they ever see it.
Before he knows it, Steve lunges for him and Eddie feels his cheeks squish against his boyfriend’s hands as he is kissed.
And kissed.
And kissed some more.
Kisses that last for long enough and grow softer with every peck that Eddie soon feels his legs buckling and he forgets altogether what they are even doing up here, in Steve’s bedroom, in the middle of the day on a warm summer afternoon.
It’s just the he –
“ – I love you,” Steve smiles when he comes up for air and – 
His eyes blow wide in an instant.
And Eddie is sure his own do too – maybe even pop right out of his goddamn skull with an audible gasp in there somewhere as well as they both fully realise what has just been said.
Steve loves him?
Just the same as he loves Steve. So much that he is blurting it out now, in the middle of his bedroom on a warm, mid-summer afternoon – perhaps months too early when they are probably, most likely still in the honeymoon phase.
All because of one perfect t-shirt.
Steve’s brow pinches together and his jaw goes slack as he looks away.
“I…” he trails off, drumming his fingers on Eddie’s shoulders.
“Stevie...” he tuts, smiling back at him.
He steps closer still, closing any remaining space between them as he loops his arms around his partner’s middle and squeezes him tight.
Eddie backs them a step back, then another. Then another until he is at a safe enough distance to rock Steve back and collapse onto the bed.
They fall with a conjoined, “Hmphf” – one that knocks the wind out of Eddie’s already breathless lungs and has Steve momentarily distracted away from whatever inner turmoil he had going on a moment ago. As he lands on top of his boyfriend, Eddie gets a feel of the shirt, now warmed by Steve’s permanently hot body temperature. A feeling that makes it seem even softer.
Like it is already worn in and loved.
He wants to ball a handful of it up in his fist and never let go.
But Eddie forces himself to sit upright, settling down in a straddled position to hover over Steve’s clothed form. He smiles down at the sight beneath him, his giddiness short-lived and quickly fading as a big, brown and now glistening set of panicked eyes return.
“Stevie,” he whispers, running his hand up Steve’s torso.
He ghosts his fingers with a featherlight touch over the printed logo, an illustration he had first scribbled on the back of his math book in his junior year.
Eddie leans forward and takes Steve’s hands, clasping them tight and one by one, he brings them to rest above his head where his super-soft signature swoop is sticking every which way, mussed by the bedspread.
He can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight – momentarily giving into the greedy feeling he gets when he thinks about how this Steve is the one he gets all to himself.
But Steve frowns, those expressive brows looking positively pained now as if only one thing could possibly soften them.
“I love you too,” Eddie says, freeing a hand to delicately pluck at Steve’s loosened neckline, “Obviously.”
“You do?” Steve asks.
Eddie nods as a visible relief washes through Steve’s eyes, leaving his brows to soften up so much he wonders if his boyfriend might now cry.
And before he can say or do anything more, Steve bolts upright, once again leaving Eddie feeling winded and more than a lot flushed this time as he wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his neck, snuffling close like the world’s cuddliest puppy.
They stay like this for a long while, simply breathing in sync as they hold each other. And soon Steve begins to sink, his body going lax as his head slips down onto Eddie’s shoulder.
“I really wanna sleep,” he hums as tears seep through Eddie’s own plain black t-shirt.
“You wanna try now?” Eddie offers, pulling back enough to give an encouraging little smile.
Steve nods, refusing to let him go as they lower down together as one, his eyes fluttering shut when his head meets the bedspread.
“Wanna get all cozy under the covers?” Eddie continues, nudging at the bedding.
He really doesn’t want to move too much more – not when Steve looks like this.
Relaxed.
Loved.
Comfortable and wrapped up in a softness Eddie would like to keep him cocooned in forever.
But as he always does, Steve moves for them and rolls to the side. He snuggles in close, burrowing his head between the crook of Eddie’s neck and the mattress all protected and safe. Eddie palms around for the blanket and haphazardly wraps what sliver of it is free around them, shielding his partner a little more for good measure.
It’s good like this.
Calm. Warm.
Soft.
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Inspired by this pic made by @infernally_fond
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When the devil asks if you want to play, you’re supposed to say no. It’s a lesson most people learn as children. Some don’t take it to heart. They say yes instead because the devil promises he will give them something they desperately want in return.
Tav says yes because she fancies him.
That’s alright. They aren’t playing a game of life or death, and her soul isn’t on the line; just her dignity, and she never had much of that to begin with. Only an idiot would agree to a game they don’t understand. Tav isn’t stupid (honest!) but Raphael’s easy smile and request for her company – mostly the smile, it’s a dangerous weapon put it away damn you – chased off all her answers that weren’t ‘yes, of course, I’d love to play Lanceboard with you!’ So now she sits in his room at Sharess’ Caress watching him watch her across the table as she bumbles and bullshits her moves, losing pieces and losing her mind, because she knows he knows she has no idea what she’s doing but he hasn’t said a damn word about it.
He chooses a piece. She watches his long, deft fingers carefully position it on the board. Lucky thing. “Your move,” he says, languid. Everything about him is relaxed, even his posture. He’s resting his cheek on his fist, elbow on the table. Awful manners; must’ve been raised in a barn. His dark eyes glint in a way that makes it obvious he’s enjoying her squirming, her buffoonery. His expression is cooking her from the inside: not-quite-placid, could be conceived as bored if not for the subtle smoulder, a quirk of mildly sadistic amusement. If he keeps staring at her like that, she fears she might do something foolish.
She blindly grabs her piece. She doesn’t know which it is; knows it’s hers from the colour and that’s about it. Smacks it onto a square that’s (probably) alright. Nods, leans back in her chair, pretends to be confident with her approach, her strategy. “There. Your turn.”
Raphael blinks lazily at her. At the board. “Inspired. Truly,” he drawls, making his next move. “By madness, but nonetheless.”
Tav purses her lips. She doesn’t miss the way his gaze flickers to them. “What is madness but a denial of reality? That’s what you said before, right?”
His mouth twists with a lopsided, barely-there smirk. He surely doesn’t miss her glances, either. “Indeed I did. And what reality are you denying at this moment, little mouse?”
Knowing how to play this bloody game, she thinks, wishing he’d challenged her to checkers instead. “Letting you win,” she responds. Round peg, square hole – put her piece here, steal the piece she jealously witnessed him fondle, strangle it in her fist for its crime. He chuckles; rich, deep, raspy.
“A daring manoeuvrer, and highly illegal.” Yet he does nothing to rectify her blatant ignorance. (Actually, devil, what’s illegal is that chuckle). He simply makes his next move. “You know, it’s usually customary for one to be aware of the stakes of a game before they play it.”
And this, Tav thinks in resignation, is why he’s let me trample all over the match like a drunken elephant. She never learns. Somewhere, Wyll is shaking his head in disappointment.
“You didn't tell me there were stakes,” she accuses; considers pouting but doubts that would work on this crafty creature. “I thought we were just playing for fun.”
“And we are, my dear friend,” Raphael coos, terribly entertained (bastard). “What’s more fun than the thrill of a daring wager?”
“The security of knowing I’m not going to lose my soul?”
Raphael’s grin stretches; sharpens. “Oh, but I thought you were going to beat me. Where has your confidence gone, all of a sudden?”
He’s wretched. Vile. Despicable. Tav is so attracted to him it’s ludicrous. “I’ll win,” she snaps, “and then maybe I’ll take your soul instead. I’ll put it in a little jar and keep it with my other shiny baubles and all the things Scratch dug up. How’s that for a wager?”
“Riveting. Inexperienced, as far as eternal torment goes, but it’s a start,” the devil praises, pleased when Tav scowls at him. “Though, as delectable as your soul would be, it isn’t quite what I had in mind.”
“What, then?”
“Hmm…” He makes a show of drumming his fingers on the table in thought. Large, lithe, well-groomed; she likes his hands. Often wonders what other kinds of magic they can do. (Look away, Tav! This is serious!) “How about, if I win, you tell me exactly why you agreed to this game. Why you abandoned the safety of your companions and entered my den alone. Why you were so eager to say yes. And don’t think about lying, little mouse. I’ll know if you do.”
Well, shit. Letting him eat her soul didn’t seem like such a bad idea anymore. One does not simply inform a devil that they like him – especially not this devil. He will use that knowledge, that power, for naught but nefarious purposes, manipulating her much more than he already does. The worst part is, Tav knows she’ll enjoy it. You’re well and truly fucked, mate, as Karlach would say.
Stomach in her shoes, Tav plucks up all the courage and stupidity she has left. “And if I win? What do I get?”
“That’s up to you,” Raphael says. He clearly thinks he has the upper hand. He’s right, but damn him anyway.
Fine, then. In for a penny and all that. “If I win, I want a kiss.”
She’s surprised him, she can tell. She’s surprised herself, scarcely believing she actually said that, but it’s out there now, in the open, lingering like a bad stink. She’s basically already given him the answer he wanted, but Tav isn’t under the illusion he didn’t know beforehand. The power, you see, comes from getting her to admit it aloud.
“A…kiss,” he repeats slowly.
“Yes.” She sticks to her guns despite her racing heart, sweaty palms, impending sense of doom. “From you, obviously.”
He considers it for a long moment, statuesque, giving almost nothing away. Tav does her best not to squirm out of her seat, pretends to be as aloof and unaffected as he is, to questionable success. The satisfaction glittering in Raphael’s dark eyes makes her grind her teeth. He’s toying with his food, as he is wont to do. Stretching out this moment until she’s at her most uncomfortable. Pulling her nerves taut. The split second before they break, he responds.
“Acceptable. Shall we continue, then?”
“Let’s.”
Tav expects a massacre. Tries to mentally prepare for him to pull the rug from beneath her feet, decimate her pathetic attempts, and then string her up by her metaphorical toes and bleed her for every pathetic confession and admission she can give while he gorges on her emotional turmoil (and masochistic delight). That isn’t what happens. Instead, she wins – in about as loose as the term can be used, but still.
“My, my!” Raphael exclaims, faking every bit of awe as he beholds the board, the claiming of his king, the crumbling of his miniature marble empire. “It seems my devilish wits weren’t enough to stop the might of the Hero of Baldur’s Gate. I’ve been bested. A villain, defeated. Quite the fitting end for this little tale. Don’t you agree?”
Tav sits in stunned silence. Of course he let her do this. She’s not completely delusional (yet), but the implications for why are taking their sweet time sinking into her holey grey matter.
“Ah, but I suppose the Hero wants what she’s owed,” the devil continues, sweeping his arms in a grand gesture. “Let it never be said that I am not a man of my word. Come then, Tav. Claim your prize.”
For a moment, Tav doesn’t move. In some ways this is worse than if he won. Raphael waits, a smirk teasing its way onto his face. He’s challenging her. Daring her. Come into my lair, said the spider to the fly. She’s already here, and she might be stupid, but she’s not a coward. Her knees only tremble slightly as she stands, makes her way to him.
He gets up, too.
He’s not much taller than her, but Tav feels like she’s approaching a mountain. The coals that have been simmering in her belly all evening catch flame. This close, the smell of him is overwhelming: cherries, smoke, fire. The heat he gives off can’t be anything but Infernal, despite his human guise. Anticipation sets her jaw, her throat dry. It’s impossible to tell what he’s thinking as he slowly, slowly, leans forward, dark eyes fixed on her mouth. His breath is hot as it fans across her face. Tav’s lips part unconsciously, eyelids closing. He’s but a whisper away, the silk of his sinful mouth a phantom against her own…
He kisses her cheek. The left one, high on her cheek bone, and though he’s completely composed, she can hear the brief huff of amusement leave his nose as he pulls away.
“There you are,” he says, jovial, almost business-like as she gapes at him, humiliated, flabbergasted, furious. “One kiss, its nature wholly unspecified, delivered as promised. I always deal fairly.”
This fucker’s trying not to laugh. Tav can see the tell-tale twitch of his lips (lips whose imprint burns on her cheek, entirely not where she wanted thank you very much) and the gleam of delight in his eye. Oh yes, he’s had fun with her today.
“Is something wrong?” He asks her innocently when she does nothing but glare at him.
“No,” she grits out.
“Good,” he purrs, unable to stop the shit-eating grin from spreading across his face. “I’d hate to hear that you’re dissatisfied with your victory. I did my very best to acquiesce. As a little advice for the future, from one thrill-seeker to another: you might try being more specific with the terms of your wagers. After all, what’s that saying you mortals are so fond of? Ah, yes. The devil’s in the details. Keep that in mind for next time, hm? Ta-ta.”
A click of his fingers, a spark of hellish magic, and she’s standing in the middle of their rooms at the Elfsong tavern.
“Arsehole!”
From where he’s lounging on a sofa, Astarion lowers the book he’s reading enough to raise an eyebrow at Tav. “Who’s the arsehole, darling, and what have they done?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Tav mutters. “Where’s Gale? I need to learn how to play lanceboard.”
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lily-fics-11 · 2 days
Text
Maybe I Just Like Seeing You Fired Up (Ellie Williams, TLOU)
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This is my first time writing Ellie so I hope you like it. Lmk what you think:)
Inspired by a prompt by @remy-lupin
CW: Not beta read, profanities, sexual undertones, mention of injury, pet names
You rarely got assigned to patrol with Ellie, which was no coincidence. The two of you have a tendency to butt heads. You by no means hate, or even dislike her, you just operate in different ways. Your social circles didn’t overlap, she was a little younger than you. So the only time you had ever spent with her was on patrol, where disagreements were consistent. It only got worse over time. After many others had observed your bickering, the two of you stopped being scheduled together. 
Unfortunately, a few minor injuries had been sustained when an unexpected storm rolled in during a scouting trip yesterday. You hadn’t been there, and neither had Ellie. You were more than willing to pick up the extra shift that they asked you to. 
After emerging into a clearing from some densely packed trees, you look over at Ellie. Her toned arms are crossed and you can tell by the look on her face that she is also pondering what move to make. You run a hand through your hair in frustration, knowing that this would most likely cause the first of many disagreements. 
Ellie is the first to share her thoughts. “That hill looks pretty rocky, we should probably dismount and check how stable the terrain is before trying to take the horses over it.”
Not what you were thinking, but you had been begged to play nice.
You nod at her, “we can do that.”
“Oh really?” Ellie asks smugly.
You dismount your horse and straighten up your posture. “That’s why I said it.”
“I’m just surprised.” Ellie snickers.
You put your hands on your hips. “This shouldn’t take more than a few hours, and we are both adults. I’m sure we can manage to cooperate knowing we shouldn’t have to do this again any time soon.”
Ellie hops off her horse. “I actually agree with you for once.”
“Good, let’s keep it that way.”
The two of you approach the bottom of the hill. The incline is mild, so if the rocks aren’t loose, the trek over could actually save some time. The two of you start to kick and pull at rocks.
At the same time that you say “I’m not so sure about this,” Ellie declares “seems alright to me.” She’s always been a risk taker. 
You look over at Ellie and roll your eyes which causes her to sigh. “So much for getting along,” she mumbles. 
“Come on Ellie, the rocks are stable right at the bottom but there are a few loose ones as you go higher up and for all we know it could get worse.”
“Fine, give me a second to test that theory,” Ellie tells you, sounding a little annoyed as she starts to climb a little higher. 
“Ellie, that's not a good idea. The last thing we need is another injury.”
She gives you a sarcastic smile. “Don’t you worry about me, darlin’, I’ll be careful.”
“Why do you always feel the need to challenge me?” you scoff, head tilted to one side, taking a step towards her. To Ellie that was a challenge, igniting a fire in her emerald eyes. She moves forwards slowly, until your faces are mere inches apart, with a cocky grin on her face. “Maybe I just like seeing you fired up.”
That was not at all what you expected so you retreat a few steps to try and recollect yourself. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You inquire. Her statement was far more personal than anything either of you had ever said to each other, aside from the small talk before you realized that you clashed. From very early on things had been strictly business. Her mischievous eyes roll playfully. “Oh come on, I know you’re smarter than that.”
“Quit fucking around Ellie.” You check the time on your watch, getting impatient. 
“I think we should clear the air,” she suggests with urgency. 
“Of what?” You question, gesturing to the space around you. 
Ellie mimics you, which you do not appreciate. “This tension that we have. I know we don't see eye to eye, but I think there is more to it. How else would a little stubbornness escalate to keeping us separated all the time?” Your eyes wander around, looking for where she got the audacity. 
Ellie is still trying to prove her point. “Like I said, I don’t think that’s it.”
You put your hands up in the air. “I’m out of guesses here.”
“Everyone knows you like girls,” Ellie smirks, “I think you like me.”
“Oh really? I like girls so I must like you, is that it? Fuck off.” You turn away, back towards your horse but Ellie grabs your arm. You try to free yourself from her grip but it’s useless. You look at her over your shoulder. 
“Alright, maybe I’m projecting, but I’ve seen the way you look at me.” She says bluntly. 
You would be lying if you denied how attractive Ellie is. That her smile is endearing and you like how her eyes sparkle when she gets excited about something. You may have even had a bit of a crush on her before you met. But then you actually spoke to her. There was friction and there was another girl pursuing you, so you dropped it.
“But the only reason I’ve noticed is because I’m always looking at you,” Ellie admits, eyes softening as she bites the lips you've tried not to pay attention to. “Ellie, we don't have time for this.”
“Fine, I can wait. I’ll even make a deal with you. We do this your way, and we finish this conversation later.”
Standing on Ellie’s front porch, you hesitate to knock. This was bound to be awkward, like the rest of patrol had been. She had relinquished control and allowed you to call the shots. At least if she had challenged every call you made like she usually does it would not have been silent.
When Ellie opens the door she bites back a smile and lets you in. You follow her into the living room and sit down on her couch. You nervously try to get comfortable. Despite achieving physical comfort, you are anxious as hell. There are a lot of different ways this could go and most of them were bad. But when a girl like Ellie Williams notices you, that’s not something you can just ignore. And when a girl that looks like Ellie Williams asks you to do something, how could you ever say no?
Ellie sits with her legs spread, her elbows resting on her knees. At first she looked down at the floor, even though you were expecting her to talk first.
“So…” you say, trying to find a train of thought. 
Ellie’s glances over at you, looking a little lost at first. But after searching your eyes for a moment you can see her focus on you. “I’m sorry. I invited you here. How was the rest of your day?”
“Nothing special. Just spent some time outside reading.”
“Did you eat something? If not, I can make you something.” You really aren’t used to seeing this softer side of Ellie. Her shit eating grin had seemed to be a permanent fixture on her face. But her smile is sweet, her eyes are soft, and her cheeks are flushed pink. 
You know you are failing to hide your smile. “That’s actually very sweet of you, thank you, but I had dinner already.”
Ellie elbows playfully, “don’t sound so surprised.” You have to take a deep breath as you try and figure out how you feel about the physical contact.
Failing to look her in the eyes, you tell her that “you’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, Williams.”
Ellie gasps dramatically. “Really? I would describe myself as a radiant beam of light. Maybe if you gave me a chance you would know that.”
You rest your chin on your hand, ready to listen. “Then let me get to know you. I came here to talk, so let’s talk.”
“One night at the bar I saw you when you came in and I did a bit of a double take. That older girl, I can’t remember her name, but she works across the way at that little shop with her family. She had her arm around you.” Ellie is referring to your ex-girlfriend. A few years older than you, so a fair bit older than Ellie.
You nervously play with your hair. “We aren’t together anymore, things just… didn't work out.”
“Oh I know.”
“You do?” 
Ellie smiles and looks down at her converse. “I haven’t always, but I’ve been paying attention to you. It’s not that I had never looked at you before, I’d just never really seen you. It wasn’t until I saw you with another girl that I noticed all the little things. The way even plain colors bring out your eyes, the shadows that dim lighting create on your face. When you smile… your whole face lights up. And the way you laugh? You always scrunch up your nose and tuck your hair behind your ear. After that night my eyes always seemed to find you, in every room. I looked forward to seeing you when we still got put on shifts together, but I didn’t know how to act around you so I just ended up pissing you off and we both know how that ended. After that I had to settle for seeing you during briefs when we were working at the same time, before we got sent off our separate ways. If I got lucky I would see you when we happened to be in the same place in town at the same time. At first I thought I was crazy, until I realized you were actually looking back. You would glance over your shoulder or peek out of the corner of your eye, and smile when you looked away.”
“I guess I knew that I looked at you sometimes. But all those things that you noticed about me… I had no idea that you did. I had always assumed you never thought twice about me.”
Ellie looks deeply into your eyes when she tells you “I spend more time thinking about you then I care to admit. Ever since I found out about your breakup I’ve been wanting to talk to you. So when they told me I was going to be assigned someone different today, I asked for it to be you.
“You could have just talked to me.”
“How was I supposed to know that? You don’t like me. And you are intimidating. You aren’t just any girl. You are smart and strong-willed and passionate.”
The compliment takes you by surprise so you are unsure of how to respond to it. “It’s not that I don’t like you, I just disagree with you most of the time.”
Ellie bites her lip. “So what do you like about me?”
Unprepared for this question you mumble “um, your tattoo?”
Ellie crossed her arms, “I meant about my personality. But fine, we can start there. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t happy that you like it. Do you have any?”
“Yeah, vines, up the side of my ribcage. Do you want to see?”
“It’s on your… you’d have to take off your…” the panic in her eyes was obvious. 
You stand and slide your shirt up, just enough to show the entire tattoo. Ellie’s eyes widen and her jaw slightly drops. 
“That's…”
“Hot? That’s what people usually tell me.”
“Got a bit of an ego there, don't ya. But yeah, actually. Like really hot.”
“You can touch it, if you want,” offering it up because you feel a bit mischievous.
Ellie purses her mouth as she traces her index finger over the vine, starting just above your hip bone and going all the way to the base of your breast. Her long fingers almost graze over the edge of your bra but she quickly pulls away. 
You sit back down, much closer to Ellie than you had been before. Your eyes flicker between the way she is staring at you and the smile she’s failing to hide. Ellie slowly leans forwards until your noses are about to touch. You close your eyes, expecting her to kiss you, but you feel her tuck your hair behind your ear instead. She grazes her fingertips over your neck as she slides her hand around the back of it so she can pull you in. Her other arm, which feels as strong as it looks, wraps around your waist. Ellie kisses you gently at first, allowing the two of you to fall in sync with each other. But her hand creeps up and her fingers tangle in your hair. Her kisses are growing hungrier for you. You can’t get enough of her either so your hands wander over her body. One of your hands grips her upper thigh and she moans into your mouth. 
Ellie pulls away from you and smirks before laying you on your back with great care. Her tenderness continues to surprise you, so you expect her to continue kissing you roughly. 
Instead, she takes a moment to look over you with her dazzling green eyes. “You are… so beautiful.”
You don’t want to ruin the moment, but you can’t help but ask “is that why you bothered me, like a little kid does when they have a crush?”
Ellie’s soft disposition doesn’t falter, even for a moment. “I guess so. Never seen a girl like you in real life before. Had no idea what to do.”
Your breath hitches. This steamy encounter and that’s what gets you? Just goes to show how you had truly misjudged Ellie Williams. 
“I… uh…” you are really at a loss for words.
Ellie leans in, her lips almost touch your ear. You can feel her warm breath when she whispers “you don’t have to say anything pretty girl.” She starts placing soft kisses on your neck and you moan a little. You feel her chuckle against your skin, clearly pleased with herself. 
After leaving you wanting more, Ellie’s face hovers over yours and she tilts your head up by your chin and places one, seemingly shy, kiss on your lips before sitting back on her knees.
“We should stop.” Ellie sighs.
“Why?” You question, longing for more of her.
“I want to do this the right way. I respect you too much not to. I want to take you out on a date. Get to know you. I want you to know the real me. I’m really hoping something could happen between us, I don’t want to jeopardize that. That is if you are willing to give me, us, a chance.”
You sit up and cup her cheek in your hand. “Alright Williams. I’ll go home now, and you can come to my place tomorrow at 7 and pick me up for our first date.”
Ellie giggles, something you didn’t think you’d ever see her do. “Promise this will be the best date of your life.”
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heavenlyvision · 2 days
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replacement pairing: johnny cage/reader wc: 600 warnings: ANGST!!!!!!!, gn!reader, no use of pronouns or y/n a/n; i uhhhh, found an idea i wrote a very long time ago and thought "how fucked up would it be if johnny did this?" and then adapted it for him and rewrote some stuff :3 hehe i love you guys (please don't be mad) </3 ANGST UNDER CUT
His hands trace the curves and contours of your body slowly as you sway in the cool breeze the evening is providing. If you were to be looking from the outside in, this would look like a perfect moment between lovers and while the moment is between two lovers, to you, it feels less than perfect. His mind is elsewhere whilst yours is focused solely on him, on this moment, it hurts to know that he’s thinking about them again.
You never knew who they were, but he had mentioned sparingly that you were like them, you just didn’t know to what extent that was. Sometimes you would do something small, like laugh when you couldn’t quite line all the buttons up on your shirt correctly and he would get this sort of glazed-over look in his eyes with a small, sad smile and you would know that you had done something to remind him of them. It seemed, no matter how hard you tried… everything you did was a memory of them. To him, it was almost like you were them.
When he was with them, he loved freely, easily, limitlessly but it wasn’t enough, and they left him for someone else. He was a shell of himself… until he had met you and you sparkled, you had loved him so certainly, it came effortlessly to you, and that was one of the first times he had made the connection in his head, between the two of you. You were unapologetically yourself, just like they were, it was why he loved them, their fearlessness and ability to just be themselves in a world full of people trying to be someone else. It’s also why he loves you… because to him, you are the same.
Tonight was supposed to be about you and it had started that way. He took you to your favourite restaurant for dinner and then a blissful stroll under the night sky, where you both just talked and enjoyed the moment together. It would’ve been… it could’ve been perfect, if it weren’t for his distant gaze. You ignored it, you did your best anyways, to pretend everything was… perfect.
Back in his apartment he had taken you out onto the balcony and asked to dance, it was silly but appreciated, the soft glow of the moon, the quiet humming of music. It was everything, you had always wanted a night like this and when you asked how he knew… his reply was simple.
“They would’ve loved this too.”
It hurt, it crushed you, it was getting to the point where you weren’t sure if he could differentiate between the two of you anymore. What memories had he made of you and what were the ones of them? Does it even matter to him anymore?
You’d stopped moving and he knew automatically that he’d fucked up, “I’m not them, Johnny,” you’d frowned, “I’m me.”
“I know that, of course I know that, and I love you,” he was lying, and you both knew it, he didn’t love you, he loved the memories of them that he saw in you.
The pain in his eyes was the kind when you fear you might lose someone, he was afraid… not of losing you though, of losing them. You love the happiness you bring him; you love him, you just don’t love that you aren’t the one actually giving him that happiness.
Your head leant onto his chest as you murmured, “Don’t forget it…”
“I love you,” he’d repeated.
You weren’t sure if he were trying to convince you or himself.  
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