#and it makes me feel really fucking shitty

[ponderingmoonlight]

Darlin', can I be your favorite?

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: In a world full of death and tortue, wouldn't it be the easiest to seduce a man who is able to protect you at any cost? Ryomen Sukuna definetely is exactly that. Now, the seduction part...

Warnings: no really deep plot, just some teasing and a little bit of spice here and there, language, reader trying to seduce Sukuna with literally everything lol

Inspired by the song "favorite" by Isabel LaRosa

Your mission was clear since the first time you saw him in action, felt how strong he is: Get Sukuna to fucking adore you.

It might sound ridiculous to the untrained ear. Sukuna, the king of curses, the most frightful creature walking on this planet? To even consider you’d be able to warm his heart is worth a laughter. You know exactly how all the others would react when they hear your wild plan to seduce him, to get him to catch feelings for only you.

But what better defense than having the king of curses by your side? This fucking world is nothing but a battlefield and as a jujutsu sorcerer, you’re in the middle of it. Day in day out you risk your life in order to safe others. And even though it might sound tempting to simply haunt after Gojo Satoru, it’s not the same.

No, you want Ryomen Sukuna and no one else.

Your heels click against the floor as you make your way through Shibuya’s train station, Sukuna’s fingers lying in your purse comfortably. What better way to catch a glimpse into his heart than giving him back those? Well, to be exact you don’t have a set plan apart from getting him to like you. After all, love can’t be forced, right?

Well, that skin tight dress paired with those high heels you chose for today might do that, though.

“Now, where are you Yuji?”, you mumble to yourself, eyes darting around the worn-down area.

There is no doubt in the fact that a fight occurred here not long ago. The air still smells like blood and sweat, the wall is still hot from an enormous impact. But who? Was it Yuji? You follow a trail of blood with your hips swinging from side to side. You just need to find him, need to seduce the king of curses. This is your best chance to not croak in this shitty job.

Your heels stop in their tracks.

A tuft of pink hair rests against the entrance of the rest room, so minor that you almost missed it.

Almost.

You walk towards the beat-up boy while casually inspecting him. He’s definitely alive, but barely. Yuji’s whole face is covered in multiple cuts and bruises. Who on earth did he fight against? And where is that other person? No, it’s not your responsibility to think about that right now. With a swift motion you open your purse and reveal those oh so deadly fingers.

“Now be a good boy and swallow”, you purr.

Your hand grabs his neck and yanks his head upwards while you carefully feed Yuji Sukuna’s fingers. Please, let this work. You are tired to the brim of running away, of fighting curse after curse each and every day. How about a peaceful life with Sukuna by your side? Fuck Jujutsu High, fuck Satoru Gojo. You don’t want to die before you were even able to live properly.

“Get your hands off me, human.”

For a moment, your heart skips a beat. Just one look into his red gleaming eyes and suddenly so matured face is enough for you to realize that this isn’t Yuji anymore. No, the person you are sitting on with your hand wrapped around his neck is none other than Ryomen Sukuna.

Finally.

“Oh, you’re awake. That went smoother than I thought”, you reply with a cheeky grin, not moving an inch away from him like he told you to.

“Who the hell are you, brat?”

He has definitely seen you before, you are a jujutsu sorcerer without any doubt. But why are so damn close, why does your hand wrap so delicately around his neck? Your dark eyes rest on his face unpromising, lashes hanging into your orbs seductively. What’s that supposed to be?

“My name’s whatever you make it. But how about wife?”

Sukuna isn’t able to move, let alone speak. Did you really introduce yourself to the king of curses like that? He shouldn’t waste any time, wring your neck the way you deserve it, dissolve you into tiny pieces. Who the hell do you think you are to speak to him like that? You, a puny woman? Not even the fact that you reunited him with a few of his missing fingers is enough to spare your life.

But why…Why does he still sit there like he did before, allowing your hand to rest against his neck? Why is he unable to give you a sharp answer like he always does?

“I am the king of curses”, is the only thing he’s able to press out.

“And I’ll be your girl. Deal?”

He lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, eyes scanning your features up and down. You do have a pretty decent face for a human, your delicate eyes keeping him trapped. That confidence dripping from each and every pore of yours, the way your body is so near that he’s able to hear your blood circulate…

“What the hell are you talking about, stupid girl? If I wanted to, I could kill you without even flinching. Now get off me and run for your life.”

When Sukuna finally regained his threatening voice again, he expected your heart to shiver, your body to stumble backwards until you run away. But instead, you move even closer and dare to sit on top of him, gleaming eyes now staring him into the ground while your naked thighs rub against his pants.

“But you didn’t. Think I must be your favorite.”

The fact that he didn’t kill you right on the spot when you disobeyed his order is enough proof that your plan is actually working. Yes, you managed to confuse the king of curses, to arouse his interest. Now the only thing that’s left is seducing him.

“You are annoying as hell. Now get off me, I have some work to do”, he barks back at you.

His hand grabs your wrist roughly and removes your grip around his neck. But instead of simply throwing you off him, he holds your arm in place while keeping only inches of distance.

Oh, his lips are so close that you are literally able to taste them. Just one movement, one innocent flinching of your hips above his and the gap between you both is closed.

“Are you trying to seduce me, dumb girl?”, he breathes out.

He does it so well, keeping himself cool and composed while his mind races back and forth with your intoxicating smell penetrating his nose. In his long life, there was never a woman who actually tried to seduce him. After all, he’s the king of curses, so strong because of the fact that he never felt love or affection for anyone in all those years. He’s heartless, cold, a menace. Why would a woman ever get the idea of showing him affection? He came here to kill, to destroy this fucking city and make that brat suffer.

But now there’s you.

And apparently you couldn’t care less about the fact that he’s the king of curses.

“Actually, I am”, you purr, your free hand beginning to draw small circles onto his chest.

“Why would you do something so fucking stupid?”

“I mean, you’re the strongest, right?”

He has to blink a few times, the way you look at him as if he’s the dumb one catching him completely off guard.

“I’m the king of curses”, he reminds you all over again.

“And with being your favorite, you take me places-“

“What the fuck are you talking about?”, he interrupts you roughly.

You roll your eyes in sheer annoyance, nails now digging into his chest.

“Make me your wife so I don’t die”, you finally blurt out.

Is this the reason behind your questionable action? He could have killed you right on the spot and just one look into your gleaming orbs tells him that you know that all too well. And still, you risked your life for him to protect yours. Were you really so sure you’d be able to seduce the king of curses with a lousy dress and some high heels?

“Why would I do that?”

Enough playing. He should behead you right on the spot before torturing you for the time you wasted. You aren’t even worthy to breathe the same air as him, let alone being this close to his body.

But…Why isn’t he able to simply throw you off, then? Why is he even questioning what you’re up to, replaying your words over and over in his mind?

“Because I’ll let you taste-“

Your mouth is so close to his ear that your hot breath caresses his skin while the filthiest thoughts leave you with ease. His eyes grow wider and wider with each passing second, disgusted but at the same time…

“Enough”, he hisses through gritted teeth while grabbing your shoulders roughly.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Aren’t you at least a little invested? I have a lot to offer”, you reply, ignoring his last question elegantly.

The war inside his head makes him forget that he’s actually out on a mission for a moment. You…you are so different from all those other jujutsu sorcerers, risked your puny life so that he eventually watches over you. How ridiculously brave, how fucking stupid. But still, when your gleaming eyes rest on his face like that, that oh so cheeky grin plastered on your face you make him wonder. A wife, his favorite?

Before he’s able to think straight again, a wave of freezing mist darts towards you at neck-breaking speed. His heart skips a beat, eyes darting towards Uraume who fixates you with hate dripping from every poor of her warped face.

You won’t be fast enough. No jujutsu sorcerer except for Gojo Satoru himself is able to escape Uraume’s powers when surprised. If he doesn’t react, you’ll die. But isn’t that what he wants, that you finally vanish into thin air and leave him alone? You, the girl who just claimed him as her husband only because she doesn’t want to die.

“No.”

His body moves on its own. All of the sudden he finds himself standing in front of you, his hand deflecting Uraume’s Frost Calm with ease.

“Don’t you dare to hurt her, Uraume.”

You can’t believe it, breath getting stuck in your throat. He really did save you. Even though all you did was purring at him, trying to convince him with sugary words, Ryomen Sukuna stood up for you and defended you against one of his. Out of instinct, you push your wobbly legs off the ground, excitement filling you to the brim. With that oh so cheeky smile, you wrap your arm around his and eye the person in front of you up and down innocently.

“But she…she is a human being, Master. She’s a weakling, one of your enemies”, Uraume breathes out.

“Who allowed you to speak to your Master like that? Get out of my sight and do what you were taught to.”

You watch in awe as the person standing in front of you crumbles, their hateful gaze almost piercing through you like a knife until their gone as fast as they came.

“So, I really am your favorite, huh?”, you hum.

“Shut up brat, I’m the only one who can kill you. Now get going, I have a lot of work to do.”

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk shibuya arc #shibuya incident #shibuya #jujutsu kaisen shibuya arc #jjk shibuya incident #sukuna jjk #sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna ryomen #uraume #ryomen sukuna #daddy sukuna #isabel larosa #song inspired

[blasphemecel]

Michael Kaiser — Mean

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 6.4k TYPE: Fake dating, This is not fluff or angst but a secret third thing (with a cheerful ending) WARNING(S): Depersonalization/identity issues

The first time you meet Michael Kaiser, you get a bad impression.

Yeah, sure, he doesn’t have the most stellar reputation, anyway. You’ve met all sorts of unpleasant people in your life and he manages to disappoint even when the bar is so low, the only way to go lower is through digging.

You don’t exchange a word with him, but rather you have the misfortune of having to listen to him talk throughout the entire meeting. He starts countless arguments, some valid to an extent. You can tell he’s just doing this because he’s addicted to the sound of his voice and speaking to people like they’re unimportant specks of dust all while commanding their attention. There’s no point to his fussing either because he ends up signing the same contract you do.

Waste of your goddamn time — he might as well have not signed it and saved you the trouble, since the ordeal ends up lasting three hours because of him.

Maybe you should’ve not signed it yourself, but your PR manager was salivating at the idea of fake dating as a publicity stunt, especially with Kaiser who’ll be posing with you for a photoshoot in a few months, so you said ‘whatever’ and here you are. In this predicament with an insufferable man you imagine you won’t get along with, which already predisposes you to never giving him a chance.

___

The first time you speak to Michael Kaiser, you unsettle him.

It’s unlike him to feel disturbed, let alone at the slightest thing. He’s met all sorts of sickos, so he considers himself unflinching in the face of anyone who has anything off about them.

But he’s fifteen minutes late to the ‘date’ you’re supposed to use as a tool to subtly launch your fake relationship and he’s expecting a scolding. Kaiser spots you and heads in your direction, taking the seat in front with a shitty smirk and an ingenuine, half-assed apology on his lips.

What he gets in response is a blank look — almost… unimpressed, which naturally someone like Kaiser takes as a challenge and already sets the tone for the rest of the conversation — and it’s as if you’re staring into his soul. Then in an instant your expression flips to convincing joy, your warm smile contrasting his snide one, and you say, “Let’s act like we’re really stoked.”

A chill runs down his spine. On a logical level Kaiser knows you’re faking it, but it looks real, and that’s what he finds freaky. Also, the speed.

“Let’s not,” he says. “You’re weird,” he adds after you don’t respond.

You don’t react to this information either and settle for maintaining your smile.

The barista decides to spare him from having to look at you while you don’t say anything. He’s pretty sure you’re doing this deliberately, to torture him. When you attempt to order something, he talks over you and asks, “Can you give us one of those shitty milkshakes with two straws in them?”

She stares at him in bewilderment. “We don’t sell those,” she says eventually.

“Can you make one?”

“No…”

“You’re scum,” you tell him, dropping the happy facade. Again, the quickness strikes Kaiser as disturbing. Then you give her a valid order, and he asks for water since they offer that everywhere and he can’t be bothered to read the menu. After the barista leaves, you say, “I could have lactose intolerance.”

“You could. I could be trying to kill you.”

“I don’t know if a milkshake would be enough to kill me.”

“Maybe I was trying to give you a stomach ache,” he concurs.

You don’t dignify that with a reply either.

Kaiser tries to speak with you again, “I really fucking hate milk.”

“Then why’d you do that?”

“To embarrass you, of course,” he says, like he’s revealed to you the natural order of things.

“Hm.” You consider this new information. “I’ll definitely think of a way to get back at you.”

The lukewarm threat seems to amuse him more than anything.

Then you proceed to have a hostile few hours together in public as instructed. You end up throwing napkins at his face.

Kaiser isn’t good at pretending to be in love. The only such image he seems capable of projecting is one of a middle schooler who’s failing to find a balance between playful and mean. Though it also doesn’t matter to you because you mostly teeter on the edge of mean, slightly left of apathetic. Nothing really matters to you.

___

For your second court-ordered date with Michael Kaiser, your manager tells you to get caught holding hands with him at a park after the cafe meeting doesn’t spark much controversy. The notion itself has you scrunching your face, but you don’t complain about it or voice your opinion.

Again, he’s late picking you up by a not negligent amount of time, leaving you to stand in front of your building, motionless and impatient.

Instead of announcing his presence in a more acceptable manner, Kaiser blares the car horn until you realize it’s him. After you crawl inside the passenger seat, you turn to look at him and see that he looks very pleased with himself. It’s obnoxious.

“I hope we die in a car crash,” you greet.

“We won’t.” You don’t know why, but his brain interprets this as an opportunity to brag. “I’m an excellent driver.”

He’s not. Somehow you make it to the park without getting into a catastrophe — which, as established, you wouldn’t have minded.

You exit at the same time and Kaiser frowns at you by the time he circles his way around to you. You don’t care enough about what’s bothering him to raise a questioning eyebrow let alone ask, but he tells you, “I was going to open the door for you and then offer to help you up. You ruined everything!”

You roll your eyes. “How gallant.”

“Get back in,” Kaiser says, pointing (as if the gesture will be enough to convince you to play along). “Let’s redo it.”

“What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing. I have a vision for these kinds of things, that’s all.”

“Your vision is trashy and uninspired,” you reject promptly.

Kaiser seems to be the first person in the world who finds your attitude funny rather than objectionable because he grins at your response. But he’s more so looking at you like you’re a bug he finds fascinating in comparison to the rest, without any real respect or acknowledgement. 

“I admit maybe it was a bit cliche,” he says. “Would’ve made me look good, though, if someone caught it on camera.”

You smile that ghoulish smile again and grab his hand like you were told. His fingers are cold and yours even more so, making the grasp clammy and uncomfortable while you begin your stroll. You don’t even know what you’re supposed to talk about with him. Soon enough, you scowl, both the silence and the sensation of getting touched proving too much for you to hide your displeasure, even though Kaiser seems content with letting the silence fester.

“Oh? Why’d you stop? I’ve started enjoying your creepy masquerading.”

“I’m disgusted,” you say.

“Disgusted,” he repeats. “By what? Me?”

“It’s making me sick. Who knows where your hand’s been or what you’ve done.”

Albeit visibly offended for the first time if the lack of an annoying smirk is anything to draw judgments from, Kaiser drops it first. Your arm hangs by your side again, limp.

“Let go, then. Or do I need to do everything myself?” That’s quite a dramatic sentiment coming from a man who has done nothing all day besides a short drive and taking a few steps.

“But my manager said-”

“Who cares? I think my manager’s lucky I agreed to this bullshit in the first place,” Kaiser says. “By the way, my hands haven’t been in any sewers or anything to warrant this reaction, thank you very much.” He must be the type of person who only ever says thank you as if being grateful is some big joke.

“I’m not being literal. I know who you are and what people say about you. My disgust is conceptual.”

“Flattering.” Kaiser’s pleased again with the mention of this tidbit, like the mental image he’s getting of you searching him up gives him immeasurable amounts of satisfaction. One thing you’ve come to notice about him since your last outing is that he’s shameless. “You’re not special, though. Lots of people know who I am.”

“See, this is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re scum.”

“Do you usually talk to people you barely know in this way or is it preferential treatment? I’d love preferential treatment, but the other option is amusing too.”

“Usually,” you say in a monotone. “That’s why I don’t speak much. More so supposed to be looked at rather than heard, and so on.” You finish off your explanation with a flippant gesture. That’s what it’s like for you — ‘shut your trap, it ruins your appeal.’

“Well, I-” there’s an emphasis on the word ‘I’ because Kaiser always thinks his opinion matters, “-think your worldview is pathetic and embarrassing. What’s the point of being looked at if no one will listen to you? How can you be fine with that?”

Fair point. You concede in your head, but don’t commit to agreeing with him out loud. “You’re not special either. Most people gross me out.”

“You hurt me this time.” He’s sneering, though.

After a while of walking, you find yourself sitting on a bench next to him. A few pigeons strut around near your feet, bobbing their heads back and forth, almost catching a groove. “If I had any bread, I’d feed them.”

“I’m not surprised you’d feel interested in such a commoner’s activity,” Kaiser says, as if he is somehow superior to you for not wanting to participate in this.

“Vile,” you say, voice still neutral. You’re not looking at him either, attention glued to the birds.

He doesn’t know which part of it you find dismaying — was it the class shaming or what? “So you like pigeons, but you hate humanity. You’re one of those.”

“I don’t hate humanity,” you say. “But nature is repulsive by default. It’s not amoral. When we’re cruel and ugly, that’s a conscious and opportunistic decision. Every day CEOs throw their employees and workers under the bus for more profits. Someone’s getting murdered as we speak. We’re faking a relationship to attract brand deals. I’m getting sick just thinking about it.”

“Get a hobby instead of thinking about stupid shit like that. Caring about how ugly and bleak everything is won’t get you anywhere,” Kaiser… advises.

“Look at the pigeons.” You’re watching the one with the missing claws, wobbling and struggling to get around. “Humans domesticated them and then abandoned them. I love flora and fauna. They’re interesting and exist much more differently than we do.”

“Does that mean you like my tattoo then?”

“Not everything needs to be about you. It’s not like people will forget you exist when you don’t force yourself to be at the center of conversation.”

This stings him the tiniest bit. Either you’re probing into an insecurity or he’s reading too deep into what you’re gathering from your conversations with him. “If I wanted to have a pseudointellectual conversation, I wouldn’t ask a vapid model to psychoanalyze me.”

“Your opinions are unoriginal and stereotyped just like your ideas about romance,” you say, finally turning around to face him again with those haunted eyes. He’s unamused now, clenching his jaw and all. “A stupid athlete wouldn’t be my first choice for a ‘pseudointellectual conversation’ either.”

“You look down on others and judge them, so what makes you so different from all those ‘scum’ you hate? How are you exempt from your own standards?”

Do you realize you’re displaying similar behaviors to those you’re scolding him over?

“Well, there’s a simple explanation for that,” you say. Kaiser is expecting an argument or something, but you kind of floor him with your follow-up. “It’s called hypocrisy. I’m probably just as disgusting as the average person.”

“Your life must be miserable if you look at everything through this lens. What was the phrase, rose colored glasses? Yours must have shit smeared over them.”

You shrug then make a 50/50 motion with your hand. “My life’s neither good nor bad. I’m indifferent on the subject.”

“Uh huh.” Kaiser considers this, then his lips twitch up, and then his smile broadens — it’s snide and smug again, and you come to the realization that he probably doesn’t know how to smile in any other way — before he inches a little closer to you. Not enough to brush against you, but enough to count as an attempted provocation. “I think people like you shouldn’t be considered alive. Legally speaking. And if we’re being figurative, you’re obviously already dead.”

You frown at him, since he’s kind of right. The fact that Michael Kaiser has the capability to discern truths you don’t want to hear rubs you the wrong way.

“Speaking of birds,” you start, deciding to change the topic, “you remind me of a peacock.”

“Wrong.” He’s pouty now. You find the expression cute, but when you catch the thought you throw up in your mouth a bit, so you ignore it. “I’m clearly a swan.”

“The fact that you have a preference when it comes to what animal you’re considered is sad.”

“And you’re entertaining. Let’s hang out again soon even if those sorry fucks don’t suggest it.”

You find it bewildering how he calls his PR manager’s input a ‘suggestion’ and seems to think he can do whatever he wants. Which, maybe he does, seeing the way he conducts himself. You’re also tempted to tell him to make up his mind on whether he enjoys your company or not, but there are more important matters right now. “We’re not supposed to do that, I don’t think.”

“C’mon, don’t be like that.”

“Why this desire all of a sudden?”

“It’s what I want.” What impeccable reasoning. “I think I can make you enjoy yourself,” he says. “Don’t get me wrong. Not for your merit or anything stupid.” Kaiser offers what you’d describe as a flamboyant hand wave in the air, demeanor laced with complacency. “I think it’d make me feel really charitable and generous if I can manage to add something to your depressing life. Give me a chance to try.”

“Word of advice,” you scoot away from him to the point the edge of the bench is digging into your ass and it honestly hurts, “you’re not gonna get anywhere with that attitude. How you phrased it disgusted me again.”

Kaiser finds your favored terms interesting. Everything is sickening and disgusting and vile and scummy from your perspective. Deep down for reasons he doesn’t want to ponder, he can relate.

“Great. You’ll come around soon,” he promises, with the confidence of someone who thinks this is a game he has a high chance of winning.

___

Kaiser makes it a point to inflict his presence onto you as much as he can afford to with your schedules, even though there’s no need for it. Not that you refuse him either. He’s kind of interesting to keep around, in his own Kaiser-ish way.

Earlier today he invited himself over to your house. He’d decided you need to come up with a story about your ‘relationship,’ but didn’t wanna discuss it through text messages. Apparently he has an interview coming up and wants to be prepared in case they ask him about you.

“How did we meet?” you ask, sitting on the other side of the couch and leaning against the armrest, away from him.

The answer is immediate: “I saved you from a burning church.”

You question what other fantasies this man could probably have because that’s the most absurd thing you’ve ever heard. Your voice somehow remains flat despite the bewilderment when you ask, “Why?”

“Because it’s flashy and dramatic.”

“But if anyone searches it up, they’ll see there haven’t been any… burned churches?”

“You’re such a killjoy.” Kaiser sighs. “It makes it sound mystical.”

“No it doesn’t,” you say, rather flippant about the entire thing. “It makes you sound like a pathological liar.”

“I like your sense of humor.”

“Thanks, but I’m not kidding about this.”

“Then what do you think it should be?” Kaiser asks. Obviously the purpose of this inquiry is to criticize your choice of scenario — even you can anticipate such a predictable move.

You roll your eyes and then look away from him in contemplation. You hadn’t really thought about it, since you don’t do interviews, and therefore you don’t need to concern yourself with hypotheticals on the matter. “Some kind of party, maybe. Post-match celebration?”

“Makes sense,” says Kaiser. “Doesn’t compel me, though. Boring.”

With a hum, you try to imagine what would both appeal to Kaiser and sound realistic. Though he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who’s swayed by practicality. “I went with someone else, but you swept me off my feet so hard, you stole me away from them.”

“I guess it sounds plausible enough while still having an element of fantasy.”

“Is the idea of me liking you the ‘element of fantasy’?”

“Yeah… That’s why I want it.”

You didn’t expect such a response. It has you looking at him weird. You do so often anyway, but now you do it for longer as if trying to glean something. In response Kaiser tells you to take a picture since it’ll last longer. The reply seems extraneous and distracting, and that only makes you feel more suspicious of him, which is weird since you’re not sure what you’re even inferring.

___

Officially it’s your fifth date with Kaiser, unofficially it’s the tenth. This time you’re holding up a frog in your open hands.

He doesn’t know what the point of all the nature-themed outings is — maybe to make him seem down to Earth in the public eye since he’s become notorious for how insufferable he is? Either way he doesn’t care, and he’s not the type to wander at landscapes, but your affinity for ugly animals is kind of cute.

The frog isn’t some special one either. No crazy colors or anything, just a regular green tree frog (according to your expertise). You let it jump onto your palms, since apparently touching their skin is bad for them or something. Kaiser scrutinizes it in distaste, staring down into its big eyes while it croaks. “So you can handle a disgusting amphibian, but you can’t hold hands with me.”

“I see you’re still thinking about that.”

“Well, it was insulting. And besides, it’s never happened to me before.”

“You’re not so bad. I don’t think I’d vomit if we brushed against each other anymore.”

Kaiser seems curious but nonetheless pleased with this development. “Why the change of heart?”

“Because you listen to what I say,” you tell him.

He somehow resists the urge to piss himself laughing at the sound of that. “Your standards are so low. It’s so sad that it’s funny,” he says. Maybe he would’ve dedicated some more time to teasing you over it, but he comes to a realization which immediately lifts his mood. This must mean he’s in your good graces somewhat, and not many people seem to fit there, so that makes Kaiser special to a degree. Right?

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up.”

“Who would’ve thought someone who looks the way you do would come out like this?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I think you were one of those kids who, like, shoved sticks and leaves in mud and called it a potion.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean now?”

Kaiser lets out an annoyed sound, tired of elaborating. “It means I think you’re strange.”

“Hmm, I bet you do,” you say. “There’s a quote I like: ‘It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society.’”

“Yeah, and I bet that’s the kind of message you love. What’s it from?”

“Interesting story,” you say. “This is Jiddu Krishnamurti’s most famous quote, but it doesn’t appear in any of his books. Allegedly he said it to some other guy.”

Kaiser blinks and nods, maybe trying to keep a pretense of having the slightest concept of what you’re on about. “Whatever, got it. I can’t remember the last time I read a book. Maybe I’ll check him out.”

“You don’t seem like you’d be interested in that type of thing,” you say, staring at him as if you’re trying to figure him out.

“Actually, I am. Can you stop taking every chance to insult me?”

“I’m not. At least not on purpose… So, what are your hobbies, anyway? You never told me.”

“I practice. What do you take me for?”

You furrow your eyebrows at him. “That’s it?”

Kaiser opens his mouth to justify himself even though there’s no need to be defensive — maybe it’s that he feels like he’s lacking in some department after you bring your attention to it with your little response and generally Kaiser hates to be insufficient. But before he can argue and try and talk himself out of whatever perception you have of him now, an interruption happens.

The frog, which had been lazy and content with merely existing in your grasp, springs without any warning. It leaps out of your fingers and lands on top of Kaiser’s head.

Today you learn Michael Kaiser screams at an ear-shattering frequency when he’s startled. Soap opera level of shock and overreaction.

___

It is when you’re eating at a trashy place for lunch that Kaiser’s looking at his phone, which you find rude since you’re supposed to be spending time together and whatnot. He eats like a pig, too, not graceful at all — you wonder what his fans would think if they saw him with crumbs over his mouth and sauce on his chin. Good material for a public embarrassment campaign, you think.

But it’s in that moment that he finally wipes himself with a tissue and reaches out to all but shove his phone in your face. “Look, we’re so hot!”

You grace the picture with a dismissive glance before looking back down at your meal, disinterested. You already know enough about Kaiser to assume he’d get a kick out of power couple fantasies. And other power fantasies. Really, you find it pathetic.

It was something out of the photoshoot he was showing you, his favorite you presume. Even someone like Kaiser, who has conventional features, isn’t perfect when it comes to these unreasonable standards. He’d been way too stiff next to you while he posed and though his face is symmetrical, his expressions tend to stray to one side, and obviously it’d been corrected.

There’s a mismatch between you on the covers and your image in the mirror. Maybe your brain is exaggerating the disconnect, but every time you see them, it’s like staring into an airbrushed, distorted amalgamation. In other words, you prefer avoiding both the edited products and your reflection whenever you can.

“We don’t look like that,” you say, offhand about his enthusiasm as you are with most things.

Kaiser scoffs and then very blatantly tries to compare between whatever version of you he has on his phone and the you in front of him. There’s not a single good thing you can say about his decision — it’s making your skin crawl just knowing it’s what he’s doing.

“Close enough,” he deems after careful examination.

“I don’t think it’s me.”

“It’s quite literally you.”

“I don’t think anything is me. Like I’m just what I see. My perspective, my point of view. You get what I’m saying?”

“No?” Kaiser says, laughing at you and your apparently strange affliction.

“Well if not that, you have to admit things captured on camera aren’t real.”

“What are you talking about,” Kaiser asks in a flat tone, which leaves it as something less than a question. A few more snickers escape him and he’s grinning at you like a bastard — if at first he regarded you as a slightly more fascinating bug than the rest, by now you must be his favorite, the rarest… A tree lobster. “You make no sense.”

“It totally makes sense. Imagine we’re having sex-”

“What kind of stupid come-on is that?”

“It’s not a come-on, I’m explaining. So, imagine we’re having sex-”

“In what position?”

“Whatever you want as long as it works for the scenario. Anyway, imagine we’re having sex-”

Kaiser laughs harder and then attempts some seductive sort of expression which doesn’t land with you. “I’m imagining it,” he informs.

“Shut up and let me get to the point. Imagine we’re having sex and I’m recording it-”

“Wow, I didn’t take you for such a pervert? Not that I hate it.”

“-so I’m looking at you through the camera lens. The phone’s between us. I’m not, like, in the moment with you. My mind’s absent, it’s all digital. So if you think about it we’re not even really having sex.”

“... You’re losing me even more,” Kaiser says after some contemplation, finding the fantasy unpleasant all of a sudden with this new spin to it. A moment passes during which he takes another big, possibly exaggerated bite, but he at least has enough decency to chew and swallow before adding, “I think you just have a problem.”

You roll your eyes, wondering if he even entertained the thought, but shrug since it doesn’t matter in the end. “Why are we always talking about how I’m weird? If anything, you're eccentric, not me.”

Kaiser wrinkles his nose in offense at the notion and makes an incomprehensible hand gesture in the air. “No. I’ve turned out totally normal. Don’t put me at your level.”

A lot of curiosities spin around your head concerning Kaiser’s behavior whenever you meet and you’re yet to find an answer. What does he want? Clearly he’s comfortable with and used to wanting, but what is it? Attention? Money? Fame? Status? All, none? Will it ever be enough? Is it even the kind of hunger which can be satiated?

Who is he when he’s not playing this ridiculous character?

“I can’t get a read on you,” you tell him.

“Well, you’re socially inept. I doubt you can get a read on anyone.”

“So are you.”

Kaiser feigns hurt over this. He does that a lot. Maybe he finds it hilarious, maybe the performance is all for shits and giggles — who knows.

“I want to dissect your head,” you say after a while of silence.

“Really? That’s what you wanna do with me?”

“Mhm. With a scalpel. I’d make an incision around your temple maybe.”

“My beautiful and demented angel, is that your way of saying you wanna get closer to me?” The sentence comes out mocking with a paper thin smile, but there’s a sense of admiration in it. What for? You raise an eyebrow in visible confusion at the… nickname, but Kaiser doesn’t elaborate. To take away from the tension(?), he announces, “You’ve got something stuck between your teeth,” pointing at your mouth all amused.

___

Kaiser had an ulterior motive in accepting that deal. Though wording it this way makes it sound like some calculated, opportunistic, sinister scheme, when in reality it’s nothing beyond immature and a little humiliating.

Of course, in true Kaiser fashion, when looking to meet someone, he goes straight for the most convoluted option. So when the stupid idea came up, he agreed, even if he put on a bit of a show at first and acted irritating. Confessing to wanting friends is so embarrassing. He’d rather shoot himself at point blank or perhaps commit an act of auto-defenestration than admit the real reason for participating, much less in front of you.

Despite the jabs, you’re also not bad at all. Calm and uninvolved in anything that upsets him and without any expectations towards him.

At first he found your indifference derogatory, but as the months have passed by, there’s a sort of comfort in knowing that he could’ve been some random guy off the street and you would’ve probably treated him the same. In front of you he is neither on a pedestal nor someone to be knocked down on his knees. More Michael than he is Kaiser.

Things have been teetering on a dangerous edge lately. His mind is wandering off towards you again, more and more often each day. Like maybe he’s excited for the next time he sees you or something else repulsive in a similar vein, a giddy feeling bubbling in his stomach. Is this what it would’ve been like to be a little boy with a crush?

Generally he prefers not to socialize with background characters. So he doesn’t know why it’s while he’s having some benign daydream about you that some newbie he hadn’t bothered remembering the name of decides to interrupt him. Besides, it’s inconvenient, he was supposed to be leaving and this guy is blocking the changing room door.

“I heard you’re banging a model,” he says, as if they’re good pals or some shit. Kaiser is also mostly immune to annoying locker room talk since all the other psychotic men he knows are too busy being as fanatical as him to waste time on something as useless as objectifying someone to pass the time, yet here this lowlife is.

Kaiser regards him with a judgmental side eye — for a second too long, almost television-style — and tries to move and sidestep him. “Why do you care? Pathetic cuck.”

“Woah, don’t be like that. I just thought it was funny. I’ve heard about that person before, would’ve thought it would be more of a hit it and quit it type thing. Yet here you are, still together.”

The emotion that zaps him is almost disorienting. Kaiser bruises easily, but it’s all about him. There’s never been much room for anyone else in his mentality of suffocating self-absorption, a depressing way to try and compensate for anyone who’s ever wronged him. Right now, though, he’s feeling anger on someone else’s behalf. A borderline exotic situation.

“So I was curious if that thing about loonies being the best at fucking was true? I’m assuming it is ‘cause I don’t know why else you’d stay with a schizoid.”

In the heat of the moment, when he’s pissed off, Kaiser is not the most poetic wordsmith. Thankfully politeness and civility are sensibilities which elude him. Without a second thought or any regret, he makes use of his water bottle still in his hand and dumps the entire contents of it over his head before elbowing him out of the way while he’s still confused.

___

You really don’t want to be having this conversation.

For fuck’s sake, you’re on break. And isn’t that supposed to mean relaxation? Yet the other model for the shoot today has been bugging you with unpleasant questions, putting you on the spot.

“Isn’t he a narcissist, though?” she asks, refusing to let go of the topic no matter how unresponsive you’ve been.

“I guess? Maybe. In a way…”

“You’re sooo… I don’t know. Like, you don’t even sound sure about what you’re telling me.” She narrows her eyes at you, leaning in a bit closer. “Aren’t you scared of him? Or is it ‘cause you’re so sheltered, you don’t know not to mess around with guys like Kaiser?”

Scared of him? It sounds ludicrous. At worst he’s whiny.

“He’s harmless,” you say. “Just a little rude and preoccupied with himself, that’s all. Actually, he’s an interesting and attentive person.”

She covers her mouth and lets out a sound of amusement, apparently now finding you more convincing and therefore dropping her worries. “He was saying you guys are suuuuuuuper in love with an interview.”

Not too engaged with the topic — since it’s about whatever lies Kaiser told the interviewer to entertain himself — you ask, “Is that what he was saying?”

“Yep. Didn’t you watch?”

“No.”

“Fine. Maybe he’s ‘interesting and attentive.’ I mean, I don’t believe it, but whatever. What about you, though? Do you like him, let alone love him? Can you even like anyone? I mean, shit, you know how you are. So, like, can you? Are you suuuuuuuper in love?”

You avert your eyes. “Yes,” you say. It’s true. You do like Kaiser well enough, probably more than you should. “And stop making assumptions about him and me.”

“What if I don’t stop? What are you gonna do?”

That’s… A very good question because there’s nothing you can do at the moment. Seems like a good opportunity to weaponize your reputation of being a deranged serial killer. “I’ll lick your eyebrows.”

You don’t know if your delivery is persuasive or not, but the idea you’d do such a thing must come off as believable enough because she makes a strange face before backing off.

___

You despise being in situations. And making decisions.

There’s a stupid PR meeting again. Your manager, who you think should move onto writing trashy novellas instead of administering poison to your career just because his imagination is overactive, proposed a new stunt. With the fake relationship running its course, you were discussing ways to publicize the ‘break up’ and he suggested a cheating scandal. Not to mention his great idea had you as the cheater — you swear he’s praying on your downfall at this point.

Maybe because you’ve been treated as some kind of fucked up creature incapable of thought and trustworthy decisions, something insentient, you would’ve went along with it like always. Even though you know you’d look bad, the point is to make noise, and it would be a scandalous story if not anything else. Another indignity doesn’t matter much on an endless list.

Then Kaiser in true Kaiser fashion declared that he wants to keep the relationship going. To you, such an act of flippant defiance is unthinkable.

But obviously this forces you into a position where you need to pick between your options. They’re all staring at you, waiting. Kaiser is smiling at you from across his seat like you’re in on a joke with him. Anxious, you say, “I’ll think about it,” and stand up to leave.

You’re sweating because somewhere within you wanna announce ‘Yeah, I wanna keep seeing Michael Kaiser,��� but it’s so preposterous.

Kaiser doesn’t chase after you (though it’d be his style to do such a thing solely for the drama), but he catches up to you by the time you make it outside of the building, approaching the parking lot.

“Hey. Hey! Hey, stop ignoring me. Heeeeeeey.”

God he is such an annoying pest sometimes. You turn around to face him, snapping, “What?! What was that about anyway?”

“No, what’s with you? What is there to think about? You don’t want to look like a clown in front of the world, do you?”

You’re looking at Kaiser again like you’re trying to figure out a mystery. He always wants things, but what does he want from you? There has to be a reason for this. Otherwise, he should’ve been fine with the separation instead of trying to prolong it.

“Listen,” says Kaiser, a little apprehensive at your silence and expressionless gaze, “I can tell you barely tolerate your shitty job and that you probably don’t like the moronic idea your anthropomorphized cyst of a manager came up with, so why aren’t you protesting it?”

Those are objective enough observations. However, “Anthropomorphized cyst…?”

“You’re changing the subject,” Kaiser huffs, irked. “And by the way the fake meek act isn’t cute at all. They’re making money off of you. Tell them to fuck off and die and stop acting like a hostage.”

“This is very inspirational and all, Kaiser, but how about you tell me why you wanna keep the fake relationship going?”

“Doesn’t matter. If you don’t want that either, you can say we’ll settle for ending it instead of-”

You cross your arms. “Again, your attempts at a pep talk are adorable and appreciated, but you’re changing the subject now.”

“They’re not adorable. I’m right. Say I’m right.”

“Fine, fine, you’re right,” you relent with a roll of your eyes.

Kaiser smiles snidely and clasps his hands behind his back. “Thanks,” he says in a sarcastic tone. Then you expect him to entertain your question, but he doesn’t, leaving you in an uncomfortable staredown against him and his stupid ‘beautiful glowing blue orbs’ ass eyes.

“Answer me,” you demand.

“Your unpleasant personality and reclusive ways have bewitched me.”

…

…

“… What?”

“I won’t repeat myself,” Kaiser says with too much attitude considering the situation. Like, he just spoke out one of the most absurd sentences you’ve ever heard.

“Do you have a brain tumor?”

The outrageous suggestion makes him scoff. “Really? You think I need a brain tumor to like you?”

“Maybe,” you say. “Should’ve let me operate on you when I offered.”

“You’re mentally disturbed,” he replies like the fact turns him on or something.

“So were you asking me out or what?”

“Yes? No? Yes. Yeah, fine, I am.”

“Do you search up ‘personality’ on porn sites?”

“Come on, be serious. I mean what I’m saying and I want to give things between us a try. Do you?”

You cringe as if admitting your feelings or overall being in touch with them in the first place is a physically painful sensation, but in your defense you think you might throw up. “Yeah… Yeah, okay, I’ll tell him tomorrow. My manager, I mean.”

Kaiser swings an arm around your shoulders, visibly pleased with the way this is all going. He sings, “That’s the spirit.”

What had he wanted from you? Affection and care, apparently. You think back on when you’d called him ‘disgusting’ and a foreign guilt overcomes you since you don’t usually lament the remarks you make during your misanthropic hissy fits.

Is it fine for someone such as yourself to also indulge in wanting? Hesitant, with shaky arms, you embrace him around the middle, the gentlest of hugs. Kaiser freezes for a moment as if he’s unsure what to do when he’s not the one initiating things, but eventually returns the gesture. Melts into it, even. Two existences brushing against one another, at first glance contrary yet perhaps similar in many ways.

When you finally pull away from each other little by little, Kaiser says, “Let’s elope now.”

You sigh. “You sure have a way of making everything sound way more exciting than it is.”

(He drives you back to your place, but still sucks at driving. Chivalrously, he avoids crashing the car, though.)

___

Yall I was drinking light yellow tap water for a few daysdo you think somethings gonna happen to me ?

Btw I hate this but it's finally finished after like around a month so whatever lol I' M FREE

#michael kaiser x reader #blue lock x reader #kaiser x reader #blue lock x you #bllk x reader #michael kaiser x you

[reallyromealone]

Title: and they were roommates

Fandom: none

Characters: vampire (oc?)

Fic type: story

Pairings: vampire x male reader

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, nsfw, biting, blood sucking, dubious consent, blow jobs

Notes:ok so it's not an OC really? But it kind of is? It's a vampire but like not a specific dude and he doesn't have a name or any description

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

"Aight, streams done" (name)s roommate said coming out of his room, dressed in comfortable clothes as (name) put in a pullover sweater "let's get this shopping done!" (Name) Said back with enthusiasm as he stretched, (name) was thankful his roommate and him had the same sleep schedule, (name) worked online as an editor and his roommate was a twitch streamer, usually up all hours of the night streaming.

Though tonight he started early so that the two could get grocery shopping done, thankfully they lived close to a 24 hour grocery store "I'm gonna get me some pop tarts" (name) said getting into the passenger seat of his roommates car and the other snorted "eat too many and you will become one"

"That would be awesome, I would be delicious" (name) said, missing the look his roommate gave, a flash of red passing over his eyes as he began driving.

The two had been roommates for two years now and (name) wouldn't lie... He was down bad for his roommate, he was always so cool and mysterious-- "dude! They have the barbieque sauce!" Well most of the time, after streams he was always a little more goofy, less like his online persona.

Though... He wasn't expecting this.

"Sorry... Fuck... I thought I had more in reserve..." His roommate mumbled as he pinned him to the bed, shaking slightly as he kissed (name)s neck feverishly "what..." (Name) Gasped as he felt something puncture his neck and a whine left his lips as his roommates hands held (name)s wrists against his bed.

He was so tired, having gone to bed after the grocery shop and he knew his roommate was fidgety but... "Sorry..." He whispered as he removed his fangs and licked (name) neck clean before pulling back, guilt washing over his face before feeling... "Oh" he said and (name) followed his eyes to realize that while getting bitten by his roommate (name) popped a boner and looked back up to meet his roommates gaze flustered and embarrassed "I- uh..."

"Sorry for biting you, I thought I had more reserve" he said getting closer and (name) fidgeted and looked away "I get it if you wanna move out, that was pretty shitty of me to do" his vampire roommate said and (name) bit his lip shyly "I feel this... Is a dumb Segway to tell you I have feelings for you" (name)s voice trembled slightly, this is now how he imagined confessing and god-- what if he didn't like him back and he looked like an idiot--" I like you too, guess I can do this then.." slightly cold lips touched his own, soft and plush as fangs gently scraped his lips as they began kissing slowly and a soft moan left (name)s lips.

"How are you feeling today though... Haven't taken from a person in a while..." His roommate fretted as he looked over (name) and his wound "I'm a bit dizzy.... But I'm ok..." He whispered as his roommate gently pecked his lips as comfort before adjusting so (name) could sit up "so... What happened?" (Name) Asked as he grabbed his pillow and covered his still present erection as his roommates boyfriend? Sighed "well... You know how you said you would be a delicious pop tart?"

"Yeah...?"

"Well that + me having a crush on you + being semi hungry..."

"Oh... Oh!" (Name) Quickly connected and things started making more sense "so the mini fridge..."

"You're handling this way better than I expected" the vampire said softly and a tad bit nervous "well... It explains a LOT" (name) shrugged before wincing slightly as he was just bitten "and I mean you're still my roommate... So are we like... Boyfriend or...?" (Name) Asked nervously as he played with the pillow in his lap "only if you want to be" his roommate said softly and (name) nodded "yeah... I would really like that" (name) said happily and his boyfriend moved to kiss him.

"And I promise not to bite you again" his roommate said as he set (name) on the couch, the two moving to the living room after a nice makeout session in (name)s room, the human having a dizzy spell so it was time for a cookie and orange juice.

"But what if I wanted you to do it again?" (Name) Said shifting nervously as the other set the food and drink down, (name) watched as the cogs turned in his head and then the realization clicked "oh? You like it when I bite you?" He asked as he watched the other eat his cookie "I mean... You did give me a boner" (name) said, his erection just now going down as the other hummed "alright but... I promise not to take it often, don't want you unconscious"

Their lives went on normally save for a few new additions like making out basically everywhere in the apartment and sharing a bed as both found they were fairly clingy with cuddles.

"O-oh..." (Name) Whined as he felt the other lift his shirt to nip at his chest, fangs scraping lightly across his nipple before sucking and biting, his other hand tugging at the other nipple as (name) sat in his lap stroking their erect cocks together as they both let out soft breaths and moans "fuck..." Did sucking blood somehow a god at sucking his chest? God his dick sucking game must be legendary...

"You know you're mumbling right?" His boyfriend looked up at him and (name) grew flustered as the other went close to his ear "and my dick sucking game is unmatched" before licking the shell of his ear, kissing down and heaving hickeys as he went and pushed (name) down so that he was laying on their bed, his boyfriends hands firmly on his hips as he took (name)s cock in one go, hollowing out his cheeks as he began sucking slow and hard.

His tongue rubbed the base of his cock as his fangs just barely scraped the sides, the actions causing (name)s eyes to roll back and thankfully the vampire had his hands on the others hips as (name)s hips began jerking to chase the vacuum that was his boyfriends mouth.

"S-shit-- I'm gonna..!" (Name) Came down his throat as his toes curled and knees buckled, the vampire drinking every drop with a hazy expression before pulling off "you wanna go all the way? It's ok if you don't wanna" he soothed as (name) shook, sweating as he felt the other kiss his forehead "maybe... Tomorrow night... We could?" He asked and the vampire chuckled "yeah baby, I'll make it real special for ya" his voice though teasing, his eyes said something different.

And (name) couldn't wait for tomorrow.

#oc x male reader #oc x reader #vampire x reader #vampire x male reader #male reader #x male reader #male reader smut #smut

[burntoutangel]

A guardian angel who’s been with her charge for years. They practically grew up together, and ever since she realized she could see her, they’ve both been there for each other. Keeping her safe from the dark, telling her jokes on boring car rides, supporting her in transition. They’re like best friends or sisters, and even if they Angel isn’t around 24/7(everyone needs privacy now and then. Girls do, and even angels do), she’s only a name away.

And so she’s not entirely surprised when she’s called to chat on her charges smoke break. Manifesting her form in a grimy alley behind the shitty restaurant she’s been working at, calling out a few lines about the virtues of patience and humility, and how she should really quit smoking. What is a surprise is her girl grabbing the back of her neck and muttering “Angel, I need some *real* relief right now. Not just pretty words”. They’ve never touched like this before. And her voice has never been so gravely and full of… want. And so the angels first experience today in the physical world is her bare knees grating against the damp and grimy concrete, hands against the faded concrete, whimpering and grinding her hips as her charge, the girl she’s been with for years, uses the hand not holding a cigarette to fuck her throat until the angels nose is buried in her crotch~ it smells like sweat and precum and grease and smoke, this is far beyond what an angel, especially a *guardian* should do but fuck it just feels so good

The five minute break seems to stretch to eternity until a final shove hilts every inch of tired, underpaid girldick into her angelic throat, and the angel has her first whimpering shuddering pathetic orgasm at the feeling of her humans cum coating her mouth from throat to tongue, dripping the last remnants of it onto her eager lips. “Fuck honey, that was amazing. Look, my shifts about to start again but. You teleport to our place when im done, and I’ll make it up to you ok? Thanks for always being there for me” her girl says with a soft kiss to the cheek before turning quickly into the back door of the building, almost managing to hide her neon blush in the process

It takes a fair few minutes for the angel to collect herself. Dusting off her bruised knees, shyly licking the last of the cum off her lips and hands. Trying to get any remaining ash or dust off her robes. That was definitely more than a guardian was allowed to do. But she hardly cares. All that matters is the thought of her charge coming home and fucking her senseless again ❤️

#something without gore or angst!!! unheard of #both girls have years of unresolved tension and after this story they date and love each other and have sweaty tgirl siscon sex forever #and live happily every after btw. that is all <3

[itsmarsss]

Scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 2 - How to Make Friends

How the mighty do fall. (Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn't exactly considered classy, Stolas)

Meet Blitzø.

pt. 1

Word count: 2,415

Warnings: surprise surprise! the series is actually non-linear! Some hints of trauma regarding feeling used/objectified, a glimpse into a little more context, mentions of sex as usual, i told y’all i can be a fun writer

Things had been running rather smoothly at Ozzie’s before some idiot decided he could just come in- sneaked in, you assumed, since he didn’t seem to be accompanied, and, frankly, didn’t exactly look dressed for a fancy dinner night at Ozzie’s like other customers always were- and ask for some minutes of Asmodeus’s time as if it were nothing. 

This wasn't the first time this has happened, of course- for some reason people seemed to think that speaking somewhat confidently about having an appointment would somehow distract you, the person whose job was to strictly keep track of Ozzie’s time, from… well, doing your job. 

At this point, he’d gotten past the whole ‘I have an appointment in five minutes´ thing and started trying to convince you that you had to let him talk to the sin. 

“Uh. I don’t know what you want me to say, dude. You can’t just like… ask to see Asmodeus. It’s… kinda not how it works. At all.”

“Why not?”

You sighed. “Who are you supposed to be again?”

“I’m Blitz. The O is silent.” He offered his hand for you to shake, but you only raised an eyebrow, unamused. He retracted his hand. 

“Is that supposed to ring a bell or…?”

“Not to you maybe. But his little bitch boy knows who I am.”

“What?”

“I know Fizzarolli, okay?”

“Okay and?”

“And? And I need to talk to the big Oz!”

“Yeah first off- you could just be bullshitting me. And second off… that doesn’t just automatically give you any priority in Ozzie’s very, very long list of important meetings.”

“Important meetings? What’s he doing right now, discussing dildo prices with some fuckface from Greed?” He coked an eyebrow in defiance.

You did your best to conceal the look on your face as you glanced at Ozzie’s schedule and confirmed he was, in fact, discussing dildo prices with a manufacturer from Greed.

It wasn’t enough, though- the imp seemed to realize it. “He is, isn’t he?” He grinned.

“That’s confidential information.”

He leaned over your desk, planting both his hands on top of it in front of you and getting his face closer to yours. “What’s a hot piece of ass like yours doing in a dump like this anyways?”

“This is… Ozzie’s, dude.” At this point, you didn’t even have an excuse as to why you were even entertaining this guy (at least none that wasn’t ‘things are slow right now and I’m really fucking bored’).

“Yeah, I’m usually at some shitty bar with cum and blood on the walls when I pull this one.”

You actually laughed. “I’m sure you are. Anything else I can help you with?”

“A… meeting with Asmodeus maybe?”

“Definitely not.”

“Eh, worth a try. How ‘bout a drink?”

“Are you offering to buy me a drink or asking me to buy you a drink?”

“Hey I’m up for whatever one you want,” he put his hands up in surrender.

You rolled your eyes, unable to contain a smile at the dumb conversation. At least he was entertaining you. You had to give it to him, he was a little funny. “You know what. Get yourself a drink, Blitz with the silent O. You probably need it.”

“Oh, really? Well if you in- hey wait what’s that supposed to mean?”

You just shrugged. “Ya want the drink or not?”

He paused. “Yes.”

You laughed again. “Just look for Maru by the bar and tell her you got a drink on me, she’ll make something for you.”

“Oh you’re not… you’re not gonna be… joining me?” He asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. He almost looked actually disappointed, just a little bit. Almost.

“Nope. The hot piece of ass is still at work.”

“Riiight. I’ll uh- I’ll be right there! At the bar. Drinking my drink.” He started awkwardly walking backward.

“If you try to sneak into Ozzie’s dressing room I will find out.”

“And what would you potentially do if you found that out?”

“You don’t wanna-” Suddenly, Ozzie’s voice made itself known in your earpiece, your voice dying off as you focused on what he said, saying the words that signaled things had gotten a bit heated during the meeting and you needed to send in someone to escort the imp out of his office (something you had implemented after the third meeting in two months that had ended with him either slightly injuring or straight-up incinerating someone). “Yeah I wouldn’t recommend doing that, sir,” you told him, quickly looking for and pressing the emergency buttons that signaled whoever was working security they were needed at Ozzie’s office. 

“Oh, sir, huh? I can work with sir.”

“Huh?” Realizing you hadn’t given the imp guy any sign you’d been talking to Ozzie, and not him, you felt your cheeks burn the slightest bit, getting caught off guard. “No, uh- earpiece.” You awkwardly pointed at your right ear.

Blitz’s eyes widened, taken by surprise for a second before trying to keep his cool- and the little dignity he had. “Yeah I knew that. Just some good old teasing. Gosh you’re so uptight!”

“Okay, please get in before I change my mind.”

“Yup. Will do. I’m just gonna… stop by the bathroom real quick-”

“It’s the bar or out, man.”

“Fiiiine,” he exaggerated, dragging himself out of your sight.

“Y/n, you there?” Ozzie’s voice came from the comm again, and you realized he’s probably been saying something already. 

“Shit, sorry. Someone was holding me up here. Did they get him out?”

“Yes. Do I have anyone scheduled right now?”

“Hold on, let me see,” you looked at the screen, crossing out the meeting he’d just finished as done and finding the name written for the one under it. “Yeah, you have that meeting about the beach accident with those Inccubi in Pasadena.”

“What is a Pasadena?”

“Living world matter, sir,” you simplified for him. 

“Living world?”

“Yup.”

“When does he get here?”

“Eight minutes.”

[. . .]

“You sure you’re fine?”

“Yes! All of my meetings are done, performances are going fine and Aro owes me a lot of hours anyway. Now if you don’t mind, I have some alone time with my Froggie to attend.”

“Ugh, that nickname makes me sick.”

“I don’t pay you to judge me.”

“Yeah you pay me 'cause you loooove me. See you on Monday?”

“Yes!”

“If you need anything ‘till then-”

“I will let you know, y/n. Now, I granted you an early night, didn’t I? I expect you to enjoy yourself.”

“Fine, boss,” you teased him, making sure he saw you rolling your eyes.

You walked out of Oz’s office, inside of which you’d seen no sight of Fizzarolli, which was strange. You obviously wouldn’t pry, but wondered if the incident with his hearing aid that Ozzie had had to take a break for earlier had been more serious than what Ozzie made it sound. 

There was no use thinking about it too much, though. You and Asmodeus were close, but there were boundaries you still kept between you and respected. You were pretty much the only person Ozzie ever forwardly told about his relationship with Fizz (even though basically everyone else in all seven rings suspected it in some way) and he knew of many personal things of yours, too, but things such as Fizzarolli’s own personal life and the identity of any people you told him about in conversation usually went unmentioned. 

So, to the bar it was. When Ozzie told you he’d gotten someone to cover you for the last hours of the night so you could be free, the very first thing you’d thought to do had been to go straight home- but even thinking it to yourself made that sound depressing. In truth, Asmodeus was the closest thing you had to a real friend- the closest you’d had in a really long time. And although you did feel grateful to be free of work, it wasn't really much fun to think of the fact that, not being able to hang with Ozzie, you didn’t really have much to do. Or anyone to do anything with. 

So you decided maybe you’d have a drink or two, and enjoy the last performances of the night before bouncing. Couldn’t hurt, right?

To your surprise, when you sat down at a stool by the bar, ordering yourself a blackberry frozen margarita- in your opinion, the best drink on Ozzie’s drink menu- you were startled to see the imp you’d talked to earlier that night sliding next to you, taking a seat on the stool right by your left. 

“Sooo. The hot piece of ass ain’t working anymore?”

“You’re still here?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You shrugged. “I dunno, I kind of imagined you would’ve managed to sneak into Ozzie’s dressing room and gotten yourself kicked out by now.” Of course, you were only taking the piss at him- you’d know if that would have happened. Obviously.

He furrowed his eyebrows together. “Wait I actually could have sneaked into his dressing room if I tried?”

You laughed and decided to answer his first question instead of that one. “No, I’m not working anymore.”

“Does that mean I’m allowed to flirt with you now?”

“Oh, that thing you were doing wasn’t flirting?”

“Depends. Was it working?���

You drank the rest of your margarita in a single gulp instead of answering. “Hey, Maru? Would you get me another, please? You can put it under Blitz’s here.”

“Hey!”

“What? I thought you were trying to flirt. Buy me a drink!”

[. . .]

“So you’re the one who manages this whole thing?” Blitzo motioned around to the restaurant, almost spilling the shot of tequila he was holding.

“Well not exactly,” you toyed with the little umbrella from your third drink of the night. “I’m more focused on managing Ozzie’s business. I mean. The guy, not the place. You know, meetings to attend, places to go, personal errands, everything.”

“That’s… lame.”

“What? What do you do for a living then that’s just so fun?”

“Well, I used to be a circus clown.”

“What? Wait that is cool.”

“Only a little cool. I’m planning something big next. But uh. Right now I’m kind of doing anything I can find to support my daughter.”

“You have a daughter?”

“Yeah. Loona. The love of my life.”

“That’s cute.” You smiled. Examining him with this in mind once again, you took he did sort of have a bit of a dad energy to him. It looked a little unconventional on him considering the… everything else, but it was there. “How old is she?”

“Nineteen.” He finally downed his shot, slamming the glass on the counter.

“Oh, wow.” 

He seemed to notice all the processing you were doing in your mind to try to gather how old he was. 

“I adopted her like a year ago.”

“Oh. That’s cool. What’s she like?”

Conversation with him came to be strangely natural. A few drinks in, and, from an outside perspective, it would probably be hard to figure out the two of you had never seen each other before up until a few hours prior- cracking jokes and playfully flirting, sharing bits and pieces of your lives and drinking a little more than you should together. It was weirdly comfortable.

And, much to your surprise, Ozzie didn’t come up again. Not in the way you were certain he would eventually, anyway. After all, it all seemed too nice to not be a way to get you drunk and tell him something personal about Ozzie, or ask you again for a meeting with the sin. Right?

By the end of the night, Blitzø tried a half-serious attempt at getting you to take him home with you (because apparently he rented a one-bedroom place, and gave up his bedroom to his daughter when she moved in with him, so he wouldn’t be able to take you home with him), to which you laughed, but stopped for a second to seriously consider.

You did find him attractive. His style was hot and his personality was fun. It was all certainly working for you.

 You were sure you could have a fun time with him if you did agree, and, honestly, atop of feeling like you deserved this, you kind of needed it. I mean, nothing like a nice, meaningless one-night-stand with a barely-decent man to distract you from from being alone all weekend. Right? 

But for some reason, you stopped yourself. Maybe not this time. Because, even though you weren’t sure if that was really you or just the alcohol talking, at that moment you found yourself thinking that maybe you could actually become friends with this guy. 

And though you weren't sure if he would want that, it would be nice to have a real friend other than Asmodeus, for a change. 

“Um, I gotta work really early tomorrow,” you lied, giving him an excuse. “But I could give you my number? You’re really funny and I had a lot of fun tonight. Even though you definitely crashed the place,” you joked. “I think we could be… good… friends? Maybe? I’d like that.”

“You… want to be friends? With me?”

Fine. That’s where this ended, wasn’t it? He realized he wouldn’t be fucking you and so the interest disappeared. That’s fine. You were prepared for that. “It's alright if not.”

“No, give me- give me your number. Yeah. Give me your number.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and gave it to you.

Oh. “Okay.” He probably only said that in the hopes to fuck you in the future. 

Still, you grabbed the phone from him and typed in your number.

He immediately sent you a ‘hi’ and a smiley face so you could save his contact. 

“Just to be clear, like, we’re not gonna- like I really mean it, I wanna be friends.”

“Okay I got it the first time, you don’t gotta rub it on my face.”

Maybe he could be genuinely fine with just being your friend? 

“I don’t mind some flirting with my friends, though,” you commented, and he smirked. 

“Tell that to me when I’m sober, sweetheart.”

No harm in trying, right? And if sober you thought differently, you could always just block him. 

Why not? Maybe this is just how to make friends as an adult. 

“Okay but seriously where does the ‘O’ even go? Like how do I even save your contact?”

A/N: this wasn't even supposed to be out today but i got too excited so here it is. also im serious abt this being non-linear... there's shit mentioned here you'll only find out more about in like chapter 5 or so but i hope i wrote it in a way thats exciting enough to make it worth it! hope yall like it, share ur thoughts w me! luv yall <3

#helluva boss #helluva boss imagine #helluva boss x reader #stolas goetia #Stolas #Stolas imagine #Stolas goetia imagine #Stolas x reader #Stolas goetia x reader #stolas x blitz #stolitz #stolas x blitzo #stolas helluva boss #blitz #Blitzø #blitzo #blitz helluva boss #blitzo helluva boss #blitzø helluva boss #blitz imagine #blitz x reader #blitzo imagine #blitzo x reader #Blitzø imagine #Blitzø x reader #stolitz x reader #blitzo x stolas #blitzø x Stolas x reader #mars writes #asmodeus

[cookinguptales]

every time I see a primer on the garden of time that talks about "the cycle of creation and destruction" it is obvious to me that they're just referring back to that stupid fashy essay on the internet that was one of the top results for that short story up until recently.

it's so wild to see so many people like "yes, a story about two aristocrats walling themselves up in their mansion and destroying the environment in order to literally stop time so a mob of working class people can't break in and kill them is actually about the destruction of beautiful art by disgusting plebs"

like???? you are using the exact wording as a person who was using xenophobic dog whistles like "the mongols overrunning the civilized world" and shit. his whole essay is about the tragic destruction of beautiful western civilization. I am begging you to just read the fucking story for yourself and see that there is no rebirth present in it. there is no cycle.

and, I think this part is the most important, the protagonists didn't fucking create anything. they played dated music that they did not compose in their walled garden that was trapped in the past. they collected art and antiques and there is no mention of them making anything of their own.

it is a story with finality because rather than change with the times, the protagonists tried to stop time until they literally turned to stone.

no one!!! is being reborn!!! I am so confused at all the takes I'm seeing here! stop parroting that guy! he's an asshole who then goes on to talk about why we need to gatekeep art to preserve it from the masses! he's talking about how the real tragedy is the art being destroyed, but not the fact that two people were able to live in a golden tower while the people who approached their chateau were literally yoked.

the story ends with two aristocrats turned to stone in a moldering museum as their home is stormed by the masses, so it feels like if anything, it's about the inevitability of change and the downfall of old systems of power.

like... I really do feel like the story, as a deeply allegorical one, can be interpreted in a lot of ways. but I keep seeing people parroting, again, the exact same words as this guy with a shitty misanthropic take and it's so intellectually lazy that it makes me want to fucking scream!!!

#I'm so sorry this has been building up in me for hours lmao #I see that phrase and fill it in with 'did a quick google search instead of reading and interpreting the text themselves' #it is a sequence of words that makes me see red now lmao #met gala

[thyfleshc0nsumed]

How did you get into leather work? I love your pieces btw!!

Thank u!

I got sober in summer of 2022 and now that I wasn't fucked into oblivion all the time, I needed to do something with all the time on my hands. I tried out drag briefly, mostly did a custodial persona (I was a custodian for a few years prior) and did old union numbers. I went by Janet Hoar. God awful at drag but this photo is admittedly pretty excellent

Anyway, I was trying to do some sewing at the time for my drag, trying to learn and not getting too terribly far, when I stumbled upon upholstery vinyl at the fabric store. I figured I could sew it into straps to make myself a harness. So I did! Sewed these God awful vinyl straps on my poor little Brother GX37, made a bunch of harnesses for myself and a few for others. I used home Depot o rings and used a metal dental pick as an awl to poke the holes for the rivets (I actually picked up the technique when spiking my first jacket)

I was using vinyl because it's what was accessible to me! I didn't really know what kind of leather to get let alone what to do with it. But I knew I wanted a harness (even if it wouldn't be super functional) that was made for my body. A lot of the stuff for more fem bodies use these thin little straps and I don't think it compliments my body, and a lot of it just doesn't even fit me. The classics (bulldogs, Xs, etc) are great but again kinda don't feel right on my body

You can see an early version of my current everyday harness, plus my jacket before I dyed and redid a lot of it in this frankly pretty awful pic of me. Martin Crudo called me hot the night of this pic (dec 2022) and that's maybe the peak of my life. Im sure I'll run into him again lol

I putzed around with sewing and vinyl for a while, and eventually was ghosted by a workplace and got a job at a leather shop, working retail overnight. They did sized to fit pieces so I got just the tiniest bit of knowledge as to what tools I should look into, and I realized oh this is not as hard as it seems. So I basically started making my own shit and quickly realized the conflict of interest (plus was tired of being the token tranny and how shitty they were about disability stuff) so I put in my two weeks and started learning independently.

I started doing mostly harnesses but pretty quickly switched to lots of other stuff like collars and impact toys. It's been a pretty crazy process to see the difference in the quality of my work even from like, the beginning of the year to now. Always more to learn, and it's absolutely mind blowing to me that I'm taking in what I made working retail while working for myself. Doing this full time is still very much a month to month decision but like recently it's been a decision I can make reasonably.

Yeah that's how I got into the craft!

[rottingraisins]

this is a post i would really rather not make because i think the degree of petty drama its caused is in itself symptomatic of how childishly hung up we are on this one fucking character but:

admin bright has actively leveraged the notoriety of their character for grooming as recently as 2020. it is impossible to separate the art from the artist in this case, as the art has been, and might still be used as a tool for luring in victims. the continued prevalence bright both on the wiki itself and in fandom is actively providing a platform to a groomer. creating fanwork of the character is a genuine moral failing at this point.

the scp canon possesses a uniquely immense breadth and variety of ideas and stories. you can find something else to get attached to in there, or if you can't let go of scp-963, engage in a bit of creative writing yourself and create an oc to fill its slot. the world is your oyster here.

i won't ever make anything with bright in it again, and neither should you. and i'd honestly rather you get off my blog if you can't muster up that bit of spine.

#again sry for the fandom drama id really rather this just be a chill place for my paintings #but god i saw some shitty fucking takes 2day and my friends encouraged me to say smth on here. its honestly overdue #this whole situation has been making me feel actively embarrassed on behalf of the scp community for a while now #if this changes even 1 persons mind it'll be worth it 2 me #scp #not art

[ecoqueer]

I wish that people gave a shit about nonbinary people who don’t use they/them pronouns. You can literally give your friend group (which includes another nonbinary person) a list of your favorite pronouns, none of which include they/them, and mention several times that you don’t like they/them pronouns for yourself, but they’ll make the switch from she/her pronouns to…they/them. And feel super proud of themselves for being sooo progressive as to use they/them pronouns for you….when those aren’t your pronouns.

I think that saying “he she and they are my least favorite but are fine in combination with other things…I’m really fine with any neos but here’s a list of my faves that you can choose from!” Is polite and not a difficult request. I’m not good at being a pushy person, and I shouldn’t need to be.

#it screams #i guess I’ll pull the lists out again and re-link them #but the aforementioned friends view messages from me as a chore and check them rarely so when they do they’ve built up and so just skim #everything #which I’m fucking tired of #I’ve been going back and forth on whether it’s better to have no friends or a few friends who make you feel shitty #dunno which is worse #they also are extremely cavalier with covid while knowing I have no health insurance #and have supported some statements/actions that really make me sad #so idk I might be basically friendless at this point #i hold on for too long to people who have clearly moved on and don’t much care about being my friend anymore #I’ve tried reaching out a few times to no avail so idk I might just give up #try to cultivate online relationships more #which feels pretty impossible to me #sigh #I’ve been not able to sleep well #because of issues in my life with…all of the few people in it #issues that could be solved if I had kept a wider support network #instead of getting trapped with someone who was abusing me and my friends who don’t seem to give a shit about that and expressed more #concern for him than for me when the news was revealed to them #again I don’t have health insurance so no therapist #which I fucking desperately need right now #i have no one separate to talk to #the one who knows all of the different factors from all of the angles…is the abuser #i feel like I’m in so much fucking pain and I feel so alone and all of the people in my life who are supposed to be my loved ones #are standing around me ignoring me completely and acting like everything is okay #just causing me more and more pain #well this didn’t start out intended as a vent but it sure turned into one huh #i wish I could convey to y’all the desperation and loneliness and aching that I feel #vent

[cosmicrhetoric]

i know like i just know in my heart of hearts that sanji has been smoking the same shitty bedraggled cigarette the whole time. three years. he takes one puff and puts that thing right back in his pocket and it gets waterlogged and messed up and dries out eventually and then he does it all over again and that's why it looks worse and worse with each arc. id normally never give him this honor but honestly? line cook behavior.

#the real one piece was sanji's shitty fucking cig the whole time #anyway im stressed out on his behalf (zou) which is such a new experience for me idk how to feel #one piece #vinsmoke sanji #well i get to use that tag now. cats out of the bag #black leg sanji #he did something that make me go oh sanji :( and again it was such a unique experience for me i was like hold on a minute #i thought i was a hater #out of all the time skip designs btw he looks the most 'its still me but it's been two years' like you can really see it in these eps #luffy looks the same. hi luffy <3. zoro/nami/robin all went up two cup sizes somehow #chopper lost his cuteness imo. i think frankys new arms are soooo fun. #and brook got a feather boa so happy for him

[craycraybluejay]

yes i am an adult male who loves high school dramas this is because i literally never experienced normal coming of age drama like ever and am disconnected from the collective experience of having a relatable peer group forever hope that helps

#i JUST want to experience high school #without like. my whole shitty life thing having gone on #i want to go to high school and have stupid drama and sexuality crises and worries about grades #not... That #i never had that im never going to have that #can i get (one) permission to go a little crazy if i survive into a university #fuck everyone befriend and be-enemy everyone get all up in peoples stupid mind numbingly low stakes drama #i want that sweet golden experience where the worst thing ill ever fear is annoying my classmates #or accidentally spilling something on someone at a dance #i deserve it i deserve to have had a childhood and a young adulthood and a life #i deserve to have dealt with unserious issues to prepare me for bigger ones #rather than serious danger that leaves me permanently severed from normal people and life #and makes me incapable of reacting proportionally or finding it in me to care about less serious problems #like yes it sucks your mom is going to miss college graduation #but i thank my lucky stars that you are not dying or being abused or starved or beaten or exploited #i literally dont know how to take things seriously a lot of the time like im not able to even if i try #because to me the mildest real problem is someone purposefully isolating you and ruining your health #the MILDEST #i try to care ab simple stuff i really do i just CANT #and it sucks so much trying to be a good friend and kind feeling like i cant do enough #the loud thought 'i wish that hapoened to me/i wish i worried about that/i wish the people i love only had that as a problem' #i get so envious. like thank fucking god your parents divorced like normal adults when it should be over #thank fucking god that 'friend' cut you off when they were actively insulting you and betraying your trust #thank the fucking universe that shitty partner dumped you before you fkn hurt yourself over them #yk? #and its a 'mean/cold' way to think about it but i just dont have the capacity to think or feel the little picture #i can imagine my friends subjected to such horror even tho i dont want to

[sarenhale]

I won't lie lads, I've been in the fucking bins lately in terms of mood/mental health, but I'm really happy my best friend is coming to visit tomorrow and staying over for a while. And then in april I'll go visit my friend in London, have some fun together exploring the city, and in may I'll go see a concert in Helsinki with my two besties.

Life can be fucking shit at times but good lord thank christ I have my friends.

#everytime i feel like a genuine piece of shit bastard that has the worst mood ever i remember that my friends are all happy to see me #and have fun with me #my friend asked when i was gonna visit next cause he missed me and it really made me happy to hear that #i always feel like the world hates my guts and im always in a shitty mood and horrible company but im so happy that it's actually the oppos #*opposite and my friends wanna see me and have fun together #genuinely i wouldn't be anything without my friends i fucking love ya lads #you make this piece of shit world bearable

[wesavegotham]

We just can't win it seems. On one hand Damian's life in the league is constantly described as strict, extremely demanding, full of discipline and so on to shit on the al Ghuls and portray them as evil and cold-hearted.

But then they also reduce it to "yeah, Damian was totally spoiled and never had to do anything he didn't want to in his life, what a lazy pompous brat"

That doesn't fit together? We are supposed to hate the al Ghuls for what they did to Damian, but if you want to shit on Damian you act like they spoiled him like a prince when he was with them "but now he's in the real world, so suck it brat"?

Either Damian was taught discipline and was forced to do lots of things he didn't want to do or he wasn't. Pick one. You can't do both.

#Reminds me how Williamson tried to make us feel bad for Respawn #I really hope he doesn't use that character again in Batman and Robin #Nobody gives a fuck about Respawn #He was a very shitty idea and the execution was more than flawed

[rosesandthorns44]

My toxic trait is only doing things that are *bad* for me when no one else is looking.

Like, if no one sees it, it didn't count, and I'm perfectly fine. No problems to be seen here, folks.

Mental illness? We don't know her.

#im an adult not some teenager #i don't have to be all shifty about shit #no one can MAKE me do anything anymore #the worst my mother can do now is make me feel guilty about shit #but i don't live with her anymore #compulsive perfectionism #im not her “delicate flower” #i really fucking hated being called that all the time #chronic illness #ehlers danlos syndrome #bpd #chronic pain #idiopathic hypersomnia #sleepy bitch disease #actually borderline #quiet borderline #don't treat me like im a child just because im sick #it's my body and i'll be shitty to it if i want to #my body is cruel to me all the time regardless #the idea of being trapped in this body for the next 50 or 60 years make me angry #revealing too much in the tags #storytelling in the tags

[roobylavender]

obv the movie is titled zoey 102 but the most annoying thing about it was that we didn't even really get to see quinn and logan in their relationship. like the focus was almost always on their conflicts with regards to the marriage but the first real moment between them where it wasn't about that conflict was when they had their first dance and quinn teased him about the oyster shuckers. and it was such a small moment but i loved it and i want more insight into their daily life and the everyday teasing and uplifting and idk like again obv the title is zoey 102 but i don't think most people would disagree that it fully being a movie about quinn and logan would have been so much better. like the zoey and chase plot took up so much unnecessary space and their sudden bout of closure didn't even make sense bc they had one conversation prior to it after over a decade of mutual non-communication so why was any of this more important than quinn and logan. esp logan tbh. like quinn kind of had the liberty of a few moments to herself where she expressed her worldview in her own way but logan had close to none up until the proposal and yes i do love that he's quinn's number one supporter but i also wanted to know what that was like outside of the context of the wedding if that makes sense. like how he exists in their day to day relationship. there were glimpses of that in the final wedding sequence but i wanted so much more and i know the idea of a spin-off is so delusional at this point but the cast do apparently want to do it and i for one would love an exclusively quinn and logan spin-off where zoey and chase can be side characters ig 🙄 so.. why not!

#zoey 101 #zoey 102 #quinn x logan #quogan #i was very wary of the idea of a spin off at first but now that we know dan schneider is completely divorced of the project #i feel more inclined to want it if it's possible #granted i do still think the cast needs to work out their issues with alexa bc that was still shitty #but with the way the timing of jennette mccurdy's book worked out i have this feeling it contributed to their maybe #reevaluating their relationship with him. like they reunited with him barely a few years ago so it was surprising to see him not involved #in this movie. but the fact that production started only a few months after jennette's release really feels significant to me idk #like obv i don't want to make excuses for the cast but when you're a kid doing that work and parents are largely controlling you bts #i think it's fair to say you may be less inclined to want to admit that your experience working on a show was fucked up #bc it's scary to think it could have been. and from the response jennette got i feel like it was a huge catharsis for a lot of people #so who knows. maybe her book was what they needed to recognize that how he treated them was fucked up too #or at least that's what i hope. but anyway. erin and matt are super super sweet and their chemistry is phenomenal and i want a show

[courtney-deserved-better]

i will say again and again how DELIGHTED i am that priya won. but i am also delighted that she and bowie made it to the finale together. about halfway through my initial watch of the season i just kinda went “oh it has to be them in the final two. it HAS to be” and for once in my life total drama agreed!! because it couldn’t be anyone else it HAD to be them!! and it was!!

#td spoilers #idek if this makes sense #im just overly emotional about the fact that priya won #because she was like the new courtney to me (and we all know how i feel about courtney) #and the WHOLE TIME i wanted her to win so badly while believing based on their past seasons fresh would never let her #and then they did!!! #ive never had a fav of mine win before!! never!! and the fact that the fav who trained her whole life for this won... #makes me emotional!! #god its unreal having a new season in 2023 #i feel like im in middle school again #oh!! but also like bowie was such a strong competitor that he had to make it too!! #like i was SO worried that his fight with emma would get him eliminated which would have been AWFUL #but its such a fucking total drama thing to pull that it wouldnt have surprised me #but he didnt get out bc of emmas shitty relationship!! he stayed in!! #he stayed and he slayed lmao #no but yeah i just. really really appreciate how the final two were actually two of the strongest smartest and hardest working competitors #it felt FAIR in a way a lot of the td finales havent felt to me #like neither of them really relied on plot armor to get there #td bowie #td priya #im writing a whole essay in these tags