#me @ me: damn bitch get some original ideas!!!!!

[cryptotheism]

How many languages do you speak?

You are always talking about alchemist that lived all around the world in very differente time periods. And you have mentioned several times that there's a ton of numerology hidden in their texts, counting syllables and letters of certain words and paragraphs. So one would assume you need to read them in the original language it was written, right?

That's a really good question! As with most really good questions, the answer is "kinda, it depends!"

So! Most alchemical texts are written in some form of coded language, but the nature of that code depends on the era and culture the text is being written in. Depending on how its written, modern scholars have a lot of different tools for cracking open alchemical esoterica.

Most ancient Greek/Byzantine texts are written in postclassical Greek. But, they're often written in dense philosophical prose. The reader needs to be familiar with the likes of Plato, Aristotle, and the early Neoplatonists, to make sense of them. Luckily for us, people have been studying postclassical Greek for nearly 2000 years. There are many excellent translations into English.

Late Egyptian alchemists wrote almost entirely in pictograph code. Not as in hieroglyphics, mind you. Egyptian alchemical recipes often made use of custom character sets and symbols that represented alchemical concepts. (One famous example, the Formula of the Crab, uses a complex diagram that looks like a centipede to represent a particular gold compound.) These are damn near impossible to read without expert help.

At the same time, Jewish and Syriac writers of the era could get by on the fact that not everyone could read Hebrew and Syriac lol. The language barrier itself acted as a sort of copyright system for protecting their ideas. Luckily for us, many of these texts were preserved and translated by medieval Arab scholars!

Speaking of Arabic, once you hit the Islamic Golden Age, the amount of alchemical literature increases by a factor of ten. Thing is, the Islamic Polymaths weren't all that interested in obscuring their work. The Islamic Golden Age was all about copying and translating older works, and compiling them into big textbook/dictionaries. They're not intentionally encoded, they're comparatively easy to read once you get a good translation. Thing is, you gotta know your Neoplatonism. Medieval Islamicate scholars love Neoplatonism.

Then we get the reintroduction of alchemy to Europe around the 10th century. What you get is about 400 years of monks painstakingly translating medieval Arabic into Latin. A lot of these texts are very well preserved, and have good translations into English.

Then, around the late 14th century, European entrepreneurial alchemy kicks into high gear, and THIS is where we get all those fancy numerology encoded alchemical texts. Renaissance alchemists loved themselves some puzzles. This would be fine if they were all just writing in Latin, but the printing press meant they could write in any damn language they please. You get a lot of French, German, Dutch, Italian, and antiquated English alchemical texts, and they can be a bitch to read without help.

BUT the introduction of the printing press also gave us something useful: cheap picture books! Late renaissance alchemists loved writing in word games and coded metaphor, but they also loved including esoteric diagrams. And the thing about esoteric diagrams is --if you know your stuff-- you don't need to speak 15th century french to read a picture. Which isn't a replacement for reading the original translation, not even close, but the explicit purpose of these images was to prove to other alchemists that the author knows what they're talking about. So if you can read them, you can get a damn good sense as to what the text is about.

This was fun to write so I'm gonna plug my patreon if you wanna see me write more about alchemy.

#alchemy #patreon

[our-reality]

oh my god.

#the art was done by @quacksel !!!! you're the best val <3 #I'M REWATCHING SPIDERVERSE AND ERM............... I REALIZED. #also i like plagiarized the most important plot point a little bit so ummmmm #see cuz most of my ideas r like. stuff i've seen in media before and i just kinda cobble it together #which i don't think is a good habit but! i like my plot idc #there r... a lot of quotes that i wanna redraw and i'm only 48 min in crying #unfortunately executive dysfunction is a fucking bitch and i hate it and i HATE ADHD GRR BARK BARK but wtv #even if i don't draw anything i can still rotate them in my brain. like rotisserie chicken #UH. TANGENT OVER but yeah they're both hobos who wear trench coat and are mentor figures ish to the main character(s) #me @ me: damn bitch get some original ideas!!!!! #just replace the fact that peter b got married and subsequently divorced with the fact that python wants to have raw gay sex #THEIR NAMES BOTH START WITH P TOO ? #see this is what i meant by 'i have hidden inspirations that even i don't know about'. i just found one completely on accident #god 💔 #python

[stevebabey]

Eddie loves to complain.

It’s a known fact to Eddie, to Wayne, to every single sorry son-of-a-bitch who winds up being friends with him, that Eddie loves to complain. Half the time he opens his mouth, it’s to let an absurd about of bitching fall out of it. Trailer trash with a trash mouth, is what he calls himself sometimes, always with a wry grin.

Even more so, Eddie loves to complain about how Steve Harrington seems to get everything he wants in life.

He gets the big house at the end of the block, the spot of captain of the basketball team (not that that’s a position Eddie would ever gun for), the stupid title of ‘King Steve’ that let him soar through high school, untouched.

Missing homework? Well, King Steve Harrington just gets a gentle reprimand, a reminder to make homework a priority next time. Whereas, Mr. McKay had nearly popped his eyeball out in stress when chewing Eddie out for his missing homework in the very same week.

Double fucking standards. He’s pretty sure he’s seen Steve get free shakes down at Harper’s Diner which made Eddie scoff— as if the likes of Steve Harrington can’t pay for his own shakes.

So, yeah, to Eddie? Steve Harrington gets everything he wants.

It becomes so much of a habit — bitching and blaming King Steve for every other minuscule inconvenience as well — that even when Eddie has the week from hell and his entire worldview is shifted, quite literally, upside down, he still complains about Steve.

Because, damn it, even at all this, Steve is better than Eddie is.

Ignoring the fact it’s definitely not Steve’s first rodeo, Eddie can’t help but keep the bite in his tone. It feels a bit too humiliating, being kept bed-ridden in Steve’s empty mansion due to wounds that need tending to every day. Hidden from angry mobs because he’s that unlikable in this town.

Worse, is that even though Steve got a bite taken out of him too, he seems just fucking peachy compared to Eddie.

Pathetic Eddie who can’t even change his own bandages yet. Steve’s more gentle than Eddie probably deserves for all his bitching at him.

Because, of course he bitches. Eddie can’t help it; some defence mechanism from within that isn’t sure how to handle the fact Steve is, like actually genuinely, a decent person. It’s worse when Steve waves it off. Shrugs off his pointy comments, might make a comment about being ‘someone’s grouchy and tired’ but is still so fucking nice.

Until the one day he doesn’t shrug off the comment— this time when Eddie makes a complaint, whinging and grumbling about can’t believe I’m stuck with Steve Harrington playing nurse, Steve narrows his eyes. Then he sighs.

“What’s your problem with me, man?” Steve asks, not unkind, just probing. He’s still winding one of the bandages around Eddie’s torso, the latter propped against the bathroom sink.

Fuck, this bathrooms massive. It’s bigger than Eddie’s entire room at the trailer. He hates it for that. He hates that he’s had more gentle touches in this bathroom in the weeks living here, with Steve, than he had in his whole 20 years since— well, since his mama died really. He tries not to think about that much.

Eddie really glad he asked; he thinks he’s had this whole speech prepped since sophomore year and Steve’s stupidly fluffy hair and smarmy grin walked through Hawkins High’s front doors. Charmed his way to top of the school with his stupid perfect life.

But, well, not all of that is true anymore. Eddie knows there’s quite a few holes in his original fantasised idea of what the perfect life of Steve Harrington looks like. Doesn’t matter, Eddie’s still got a bone to pick. He’s stubborn that way.

“What’s my problem? Did you meet yourself in high school?”

Steve winces a bit at that, his eyes ducking away but his hands keep moving, winding the gauze slowly and carefully. He doesn’t say anything, thinking, but Eddie rolls on regardless.

“Dude, you get— you have everything. You have the house, the popularity- shit, half the population of the school had the hots for you.” He doesn’t mention that he was at one point part of that population. Might still be if Steve keeps being so nice to him. Damn, he’s easy.

His tone as he talks tells a completely different story though, all annoyed and dramatic. “I once saw Miss O’Donnell wave off a failed test just cos. Just cos you were you! That’s the same fucking test that failed me the first time round.”

Eddie waves his hand around, on a roll now; he’s had plenty of practice with bitching about the likes of how Steve Harrington has it all.

“I know all this shit is, well, not fuckin’ ideal but even then! It’s like, of course, you’ll roll out of this with some badass scars that the chicks will dig.”

Steve is still listening intently, Eddie can tell because his eyes flick up to meet his every couple of seconds. His hands keep working.

Eddie huffs and winces at the pain that radiates up and down his side. “If you had these scars,” he gestures up and down. His side is undeniably worse than Steve’s own, they both know. “It would just be badass. Survivor shit, yanno? On me, it’s just, like, shitty mutilation.”

The sentence hangs in the air and Eddie feels his embarrassment creep up by how quickly that turned into a pity-fest, which absolutely not the point. The point is that Steve gets it all and Eddie gets nothing — and that’s how it’s always been.

Steve says quiet for a bit thinking as he ties off the end of Eddie’s bandage. He has to pull it tight and Eddie winces again, another flush on pain. Even if it’s not as embarrassing as it had been in the beginning, Steve taking care of these wounds for him, Eddie still hates it.

“So, that’s your problem with me? You think I get everything I want?” Steve asks plainly, pulling his hands back and folding them across his chest. Eddie hates how handsome he looks doing it. Then hates himself for noticing it.

“In a manner of words, yes.”

Steve uncrosses his arms and suddenly leans forward, planting his hands on either side of Eddie’s hips on the bathroom counter. He leans into his space and Eddie has to force himself not to pull back instinctively. Steve’s face is very close to his.

“And... if I want you?” Steve asks, voice dipping quieter in a way that makes Eddie’s stomach tighten. He represses a shudder and only after, do the words dawn on him; there’s no hiding the way he gets a little wide-eyed and fuck, he just looked at Steve’s lips. Wait, what? Eddie’s heart is thudding like a trapped rabbit’s, wild and quick.

Steve’s stare is intense, eyes a little darker than usual. He looks at Eddie and just for a moment, his gaze drops to his lips. Steve licks his own, his knuckles on the counter growing whiter as he grips it tighter and steels his nerve.

“Do I still get everything I want?”

#break from da blurbs bcos i am on STEDDIE BRAIN at the mo! #i've also had that dialogue in my drafts for yoinks #yet again.... gay ppl in my phone #i trust u to find this #sorry to all my stevie followers u will have to see this just once lol #maybe twice #steddie #ruby writes steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #wahoo

[miikapie]

Your boyfriend Choso gives you scary dog privileges!!

wc:..1k!

cw:.. Choso x fem!reader, reader gets harassed by a creep at the bar:(, bad grammar as always. this is literally just me barfing up an idea because i love the idea of choso protecting reader from weirdos!!

Along with his resting bitch face, his tall stature makes strangers shiver. Whether that be in a bar, out on a nighttime walk, or in the city. Aslong as Choso is not even two paces away from you you're practically untouchable!

Its amazing, ofcourse, he keeps away weirdos with just a glare, sending them running in the opposite direction. You think that's fantastic obviously!! You'll have no need to invest in self defense classes when Choso is around you 24/7! Well, he can't be around you all the time...

You were sat on the high stool of the bar, waiting for your boyfriend to come back from the bathroom. Specifically he placed his black bomber jacket on the seat beside you to silently let it be known to anyone who even thought of approaching you that there was already someone sitting there.

You sat twirling the cocktail drink with the little paper umbrella your bartender had given to you in the meantime while you wait for your lovely boyfriend to return.

It was a rare night for you both. Usually, nights like this were spent on the couch together, while you scratched his scalp softly like a (not so) little puppy. Well, he was your puppy afterall!!

As you sat daydreaming innocently about your sweet boyfriend to distract yourself from the bustling atmosphere of the bar, a particularly tragic attempt at a suave voice made itself known beside you.

"Hello, cutie~" A waft of alcohol hit your face like a brick, originating where the voice came from.

It was a drunk guy, leaning on the table beside you. His eyes hung low, shamelessly checking you out, and his hair was a greasy bird's-nest. You almost gagged at how fucking badly he smelled.

"What're you doin' here all by yourself?" He slurred, a burp following suit as he moved closer to you. "Shouldn't a woman like you be in my bed? hmmmm?" And jesus fucking christ, you wished your boyfriend would hurry up in that damn washroom.

"I uh.. im here with my boyfriend." You reply with a deadpan, slightly leaning away from the man who was inches away from your face.

"What boyfriend, baby?" He cackled "I don't see no man with you..hmmmm?" And you swear you could puke just from how putrid his breath was.

His filthy hands come in contact with a lock of your hair, and he inched impossibly closer to you, whispering. "Me, you, my bed, tonight. How does that sound?"

"No. I- Choso, there you are!" You smiled, catching eyes of your boyfriend making his way through the crowds that separated like the red sea infront of him- some people marvelling at how intimidating he was, and some cowering.

A small smile resonated on his features before he caught eyes of the creep right beside you. He saw the nervousness in your eyes and knew immediately that you did not know this guy.

The smile dropped immediately, as he locked eyes with the creep beside you.

He stood just a foot away from the stranger, as he let go of your hair and stared up at your-quite frankly-terrifying boyfriend, gulping audibly. You saw a drop of sweat fall down his forehead.

"Thats my seat." His voice, usually softer in tone, dropped an octave as he subconsciously grit his teeth infront of the man. You watched along like a giddy child on christmas day opening their gifts.

"...i-"

"Beside my girlfriend." He stated plainly, venom laced through his words. Now you could see why strangers cowered under the gaze of your other half.

The creep could quite obviously be seen scrambling around his empty head for an explanation to your boyfriend. You held back a snicker and took a gulp of your drink.

"Get out of here. Never approach her again." Shaking his head, your boyfriends eyebrows furrowed.

The man nodded haphazardly and scuffled swiftly away into the dense crowd to get far, far away from Choso. After his sharp eyes followed the man making his way out of the bar, he finally sat beside you awkwardly. You couldn't stifle the giggle in your throat any longer and you leaned your head on his shoulder.

He looked down to you, a small sigh leaves his lips.

"Im s-"

"Choso, dont apologize" Predicting exactly what he was gonna say. choso was a softie at heart, and knowing him, you knew he was gonna blame it on himself- even though he wasn't there.

"But I wasn't there, so its my fault." aaand there he goes! You roll your eyes in response with a smile, classic Choso.

"Its not your fault, Cho. I promise you. I could feel someone was eyeing me up for a while, I guess he was just waiting for you to leave."

Your eyes met his, and he looked a little bashful. he always looked bashful when your eyes met.

"Hes a scumbag." He spat quietly, looking away from you. A laugh erupted from your chest, making him smile. You always made him smile. Your manicured hand rested beside his on the wooden table.

His shoulders slumped a little and he nodded. It seems you guys wont be going to the bar anytime soon, instead opting to spend now 100% of your nights curled up on the couch together, where no creeps could harass you!

"Al..alright then, i believe you." Were the words that leaves his lips, his larger pinky finger wrapping around yours for mutual comfort.

Fascinating, really, how your boyfriend barely has to say a couple of words and hes sent a creep running out of the door. If only everyone knew him like you did- for what he really was.

It doesnt bother him at all, actually. he likes it. He finds a sense of pride in it, being able to protect you from any unwanted attention without having to lift a finger. He feels content devoting himself to loving and protecting you.

And if he had a say in it, he'd continue doing both for forever, for you.♡

#choso x reader #choso kamo #choso fluff #i love choso sososo much #jjk x reader

[yoru-no-seiiki]

Shit, I just saw you had different accounts for different genres and I already requested on your main non smut(??) account😭😭 Okay, okay, I have a new totally original idea. What about.. male pervert yandere enemy x gn or female reader? Like enemies to lovers but one is only in on it because of their masochistic tendencies and they just love being dominated. And please add nsfw of him jerking off, finding her sweaty (sweet) gym tshirt and it being mentioned that he has, I don't know, JERKED OFF TO THEM IN FUCKING CLASS. (The oneshot could be in class👀👀)

- I'm 🙈 anon from your main account, you don't have to complete both of the requests, either one I know would make me cum, but please I'm so desperate for cocky ass bakugo katsuki like bitch guys who are so submissive and vulnerable on the inside IM BEGGING YOU.. omg, now I'm like them, fuck.

This got me pissing my pants ngl- but aaaaa yess. This came at a perfect timing! (long story short i got sum good news from my scholarship stuff in Ateneo) Your audience with me has been approved.

(also I don’t think I received your other request unfortunately uhu)

YANDERE! PERVERTED! RIVAL OC x GN! READER

tw/cw: dddne, yandere themes, male masturbation, semi-public masturbation, yun’s trauma with enrollment procedures.

MINORS/AGELESS DNI OR I WILL BLOCK YOU.

University was hell before it even started. Due to complications with your scholarship, you and your parents had to repeatedly go out to get a whole bunch of documents in searing summer heat to ensure you kept the damn thing from falling through.

It was safe to say, you weren’t going to just take all that for granted.

You wanted to be the best student in the history of the institution, no — the whole country. Anything less than perfect would tarnish the effort your family has put into you.

But a certain Ricardo Peralta was making that oh so difficult for you.

Not only was he already a member of the student council and potential president for the following years, he was oh so disgustingly well-rounded and rich. You thought you were a try-hard? Well think again. Ricardo had you beat in many aspects.

But not all of them.

You are a people person by heart. Charismatic, and sociable. You knew how to mingle, how to get a person wrapped around your fingers. Ricardo may have the vantage point with connections now but in the future? It wouldn’t be long before everyone will turn to you instead.

And so began your petty rivalry.

It was subtle at first. Smirking at the one who got a lower score. Congratulating the other for winning second place while having a golden medal dangling from their neck. Scoffing at their rival for having a life outside academics ( pfft imagine having good time management? The two of you can never! )

And then it steadily degenerated into full blown petty fights. Violence at times. Anything aside from murdering each-other was free rein and even then there were days you two took that sort of route. It was mostly you though. For some reason, his parents were quite fond of you and would always let you into their mansion. This gave you plenty of opportunities to drug his ass.

You didn’t know it was because of a deal his parents made with yours to give him access to your room.

Ricardo studied you harder than the academics he worshipped his entire life. He knew you far longer than you did him. You were the reason he strove so much to be perfect. The only reason he wanted to be perfect was for you.

He knew your parents would never think to pay for the outrageous fees the University you (and by extension him) wanted to go to, so he made his parents start a scholarship program for gifted students (Anything to make their son happy). You were already guaranteed to get in from the beginning, and he felt bad for having made you panic from the strings he had to pull so that you’d always have the same classes/schedules.

So he let you win some of the little games you two had. In any case, nothing beats the reward of your smile. And the smug smirk you’d give him as you loomed over the desk, your chest almost resting on his face.

He shook his head, he can save those thought for after he stole another set of used underwear.

He usually came to your locker after P.E. it was when your scent wouldn’t be covered by whatever you sprayed on yourself. Don’t get him wrong, Ricardo was a germaphobe and a half but those cheap perfumes and deodorants you slathered all over yourself so you wouldn’t smell half bad after your exercises couldn’t compare to the scent of your body.

In anycase, today Ricardo got greedy. Impatient. Something his parents were sure to have reprimanded him on. But he couldn’t help it. Could you really blame him? It suddenly started raining out in the field. The way the water made your shirt cling unto your clothes practically made you irresistible.

“Ngh . . . [Y/N]. J-just like that . . . use me . . .” Tears formed at the corner of his eyes as he mumbled in pleasure. If you just walked a little more, perhaps leaned your head around the corner. . . god, he could imagine the disdain on your face. The utter disgust you’d show him.

It didn’t help that you were slandering him just a few feet away.

“That piece of shit, Ricardo. He totally fucking cheated.” You cursed, so unlike your usual polite tone with your fellow batch-mates and the faculty. He hears a resounding thud right after wards.

The movement around his shaft only gets faster. His grip tighter, harsher, as he imagines the way you’d abuse his cock. If he added any more force he’d probably tear himself apart. The thought of disappointing you is the one thing keeping him from harming himself.

His hand only ever stuttered due to the sound of your friend’s voice, ear piercing and grotesque as it is in contrast to yours, “Aray! Nadamay pa talaga yung mukha ko-“

“Shut the fuck up!” You angrily replied, this time slamming the locker behind Ricardo, making him moan stumble forward a little.

“I’ll fucking kill him.”

Streams of white leave the tip of his cock, your threat shoving him off the ledge of pleasure. Your rain and sweat covered shirt now drenched with another type of liquid.

[Notes]:

Aray! Nadamay pa talaga yung mukha ko — Ouch! You really just brought my face into the fray.

#Midnight Darling 🏫 #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere fic #yandere x you #yancore #tw yandere #yandere core #yandere blog #yandere concept #yandere imagine #yandere scenario #yandere idea #yandere college #sub yandere #male yandere #yandere rival #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yanderecore #gn reader #yandere drabble #dom reader #yandere x y/n #yandere headcannons #yandere smut #smut #yandere story

[scekrex]

Sooooo, about that idea 😂😂 I'm sure you already know where this is going 👀👀

Adam and reader casually talking about something and they get to the subject of being together somehow even after death, how it would or should go if either of them dies and reader just goes: "Well, I definitely wouldn't move on if you died (Oup-). I don't think I would be able to... " and Adam just looks at him with a bewildered look and goes: "Fuck you mean 'If I died you wouldn't move on'??YOU'RE MY HUSBAND, IF I'M DYING, YOU'RE DYING. WITH. ME. AIN'T NO CHOICE! WE ARE MARRIEEEEED, WE GON' DO EVERYTHING TOGETHER AND IF THAT INVOLVES DYING THEN SO HELP ME HOLY FATHER, YOUR SPICY ASS IS GOING WITH ME". Originally I thought about the reader to say all of that, but then I just thought: No, hold on, that's such an Adam thing to say 😂😂

I swear Adam's so full of himself he'd simply be offended that reader's first intention wasn't "We're ride or die babe, if you die, I die with you" lmao

Baby we could be Bonnie & Clyde

pairing: Adam x male!reader

warnings: language, talking about death, slightly cracky

note: not beta read bc fuck you I don't have beta readers

“What’s up, buttercup,” Adam hummed as he sat down next to you on the bed. The thoughts of the upcoming extermination weren't sitting right with you, it was really nothing more than a gut feeling but something told you that Adam and you should skip extermination day this year. And maybe that was part of the reason why you've been so quiet all day, maybe not, who knew.

Well, Adam seemed to at least know that something was bothering you.

You rested your head against his upper arm and sighed, maybe talking would get it off your chest for a moment, talking to Adam about the things that bothered you often helped. “I wanna skip extermination this year,” you started, you weren't able to look at your husband, not that you were afraid of his reaction but you knew how much that day meant to him as the leader of the exorcists. “Why?” was all the brunette asked as his wing softly wrapped itself around your back, the tip of his feathers were therefore resting on your thighs, not that you minded.

Yeah, why was a damn good question. Because of some stupid fucking gut feeling wasn't exactly the answer you wanted to give but it was all you had that came close to a reason so you said that. Adam remained silent for a moment, he seemed to be genuinely thinking about a response. “I get it,” he then mumbled and that made you peek up to him with curious eyes. You wouldn't have thought he did, or maybe he just said it to ease your mind a little. “Before my first extermination I was so fucking nervous,” the first man continued with a soft chuckle rumbling through his body and his arm came up to softly caress your shoulder, “I mean every time we go down there my life's on the line, and not just fucking mine but the lives of my chicks too.” Yeah, you assumed he was right. “I mean, it's not like these demon bitches would fight back or shit, but, y’know, they could, so what if they quit being fucking bitches and hurt my ladies? They're not going to, but they fucking could and-” he paused for a moment, took a deep breath as his eyes focused on the wall across the bed, “and that's fucking scary.”

Had Adam just admitted that he was scared of something? That he was scared of the demons in hell fighting back? It seemed that way. “I don't think I'd be able to move on if they'd kill ya,” your voice was quiet, shaking and far from sounding stable. Adam's eyes moved from the wall to you, an offended look in them, “The fuck you mean ‘you wouldn't be able to move on?” You backed off a little in order to look at him properly, “Y’know, I don't think I'd be able to ever be happy again.”

The first man grabbed your shoulders and shook you lightly, playfully, yet his eyes were dead serious when he spoke, “You’re my fucking husband, if I die you're dying with me, ain't no fucking choice.” You frowned a little at his words, but now that you thought about it dying with him sounded better than grieving his death for all of eternity. Your wing nudged his shoulder playfully and you replied, “Yeah well, that offer wasn't on the fucking table.” That caused a grin to erupt on his face and he pressed your upper body backwards until your back was flush against the mattress, “Yeah well, fuck whatever offer’s on the table and what's not, we're fucking married bitch.” His face came close to yours as he leaned down and for a brief moment you thought he was going to steal a kiss from you, but then his lips moved to your nape instead, “We’re gonna do everything together and if that involves dying, then holy father help me, your spicy ass is coming with me and if I have to drag you with me personally,” he paused to press a kiss to your jaw, his teeth softly scraping against your skin before he continued, “Then fuck, I fucking will, you got that?”

A laughter bubbled up from your chest at that and you grabbed onto his shoulders to flip you both over, now you were on top of him, “When the fuck did I sign up for a double homicide, huh?” He grinned up at you from below as his hands slid down your sides to come rest on your hips, “When you signed the fucking papers to marry me, slipped in a little contract that said your ass belongs to me and that you have to fucking die with me.” You pretended to punch his chest as you chuckled, “Fuck you, bitch.” Adam's grin only widened at that as he cheekily shot back a, “Do it yourself, you fucking coward.”

If he was inviting you so nicely, who were you to reject?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #adam x male reader #male reader #adam x y/n #adam x reader #adam x you

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

hii, idk if this is too complex but could you maybe do ethan landry x fem reader smut where he died (we all know the plot in scream 6) but like here he was just supposedly dead and actually alive but spent a few months in a psych ward and during this the reader is his ex girlfriend as they broke up one year before the events from 2023 since she didn’t want to accept him killing people for revenge but as months passed, she found out that he “died” so she took care of everything in his place, killing the core four and all and at that point she became very depressed as she still couldn’t get over him but then he suddenly appears in her life again (idk how tho, this can take place in the forest or at her house or idk) it can start a bit angst and then leading to smut with them being a bit eager as they haven’t done it in a long time. you can mention ethan having some scars somewhere on his face btw! (srry again if this is too complex 😭)

My sweet, SWEET anon. I finally have this done, thank you for being so patient with me💕 I appreciate you messaging me so I could run some ideas I had by you lol

Meet Me at Our Spot - Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT - Minors DNI

Summary: You think Ethan died at the theater, so you got revenge. He isn't dead though, and you run into him at your spot.

A/N: Hi! The anon that requested this messaged me earlier to help me with some plot ideas I had, cause you know I'm a bitch that LOVES a plot. If you guys have requested something and I haven't written it yet, it could be that I'm stumped and trying to figure it out. Just message me if you're like...damn why's she taking so long lol.

“Get the fuck out!” You screamed at Ethan, as tears streamed down both of your faces.

“Why are you doing this?” he cried, his eyes pleading with yours.

“I can’t be with someone as cold-hearted as you,” you snapped, nudging him out the front door and slamming it in his face.

That was the last time you saw Ethan. After you accidentally overheard the plan his family concocted to get revenge for Richie’s death, you called him out on it. He argued that it’s what he needed to do, and that you should love him regardless. You couldn’t, not if he was going to spend the rest of his life in prison, or worse, end up dead. You were hoping the break-up would make him realize that he shouldn’t do it, and just stay with you. He didn’t though, starting college not even a month later. You stayed home, opting for online courses like you both originally planned on doing.

When you saw the news that people had died in the same area of his university, you knew he had something to do with it. You couldn’t reach out to the cops, because his dad was a well-respected detective. No one would believe you. Plus, your own safety would be at risk. Ethan made that perfectly clear during your heated argument.

Your heart sank when you heard about what happened at the abandoned theater. When you saw that Ethan was one of the suspects, and that he was found deceased, you couldn’t control your emotions as you wailed in the otherwise silent house. After you read about what happened to him, you started to understand why he felt like he needed to avenge Richie’s death, because that’s exactly how you were feeling. You wanted to get back at the people who took him from you.

You started with Kirby. She was the one that ultimately took him from you. You started to feel satisfied, but you knew you couldn’t stop until they all died. You went to Chad and Mindy, then Tara and Sam. Even with you finishing what Ethan and his family started, you still felt so empty without him.

You never read anything else about Ethan after you did what you needed to do, the thought of him being gone made you too sad to even think about it. You did keep tabs on what was happening in the investigations into your crimes, but they never had any leads. If you had kept up with the news on Ethan, you would’ve seen that the first news reports were wrong, and that he did survive.

The attempts to keep your day-to-day life normal became impossible. Your parents were always traveling, so you mostly had the place to yourself. All you wanted to do was lay in bed and cry, your living space reflecting that. You finally decided to get up and clean, coming across so many little gifts and things Ethan had gotten you over the two years you were together. When you came across the first note he wrote to you when you were juniors in high school, you started to sob. His handwriting on the page in front of you made you feel like you had a piece of him. Then, you saw the ‘Meet me at our spot’ at the bottom of the page. The spot he first told you he loved you.

He was so nervous that day, his cheeks pink as he finally got those three words out, terrified that you wouldn’t say it back. You did, though. You knew with everything in you that you were meant to be with him. You thought back to the times that you’d pass him in the hallway on your way to class, the two of you not having much time to talk. He’d say “forever” as his eyes connected with yours, and you’d always say it back. It was so simple, but he wanted you to know how much he loved you, and that you’d always have his heart.

You slipped your shoes on before heading out the door. You knew you needed to go to the spot in the woods that the two of you would always go whenever you needed to get away from life. You sat on the log you’d always sit on, crying as you touched the empty space beside you.

“I miss you so fucking much,” you sobbed, letting out so many emotions. The anger, the sadness, and the heartache overwhelming you.

“I never thought I’d see you here,” you heard, as the leaves crunched behind you.

Your head snapped in the direction of the voice, your chest getting tight as you saw Ethan standing there.

“Fuck, I really am going crazy,” you cried, taking a deep breath.

You didn’t want to look away. Even if this was a figment of your imagination, seeing him was something you so badly needed.

“You aren’t crazy,” he said, stepping closer to you.

You noticed some scars on his face, but he was still beautiful. Your heart swelled as you shut your eyes tight and reopened them, to see him still standing there.

“I’m real. I told you; you aren’t going crazy.”

You stood up and started to walk a little closer to him. His brown eyes met yours before looking at the ground, his facial expression unreadable.

“Ethan…How?” was all you got out, your brain not fully processing what was happening.

“It doesn’t surprise me that you didn’t keep track of what happened to me,” he said, turning around to walk in the opposite direction of you.

“What the fuck do you mean? You died! It was all over the news!” you yelled, as he kept walking. “Ethan, please stop.”

He stopped, his back still turned to you.

“How could you just break up with me like that? How could you just throw me away?” he said, finally turning to look at you. Tears stained his cheeks as he waited for you to respond. He’s waited over a year for an answer. “Forever must not mean much to you.”

“It doesn’t?! Then why did I finish what you started? Why did I kill for you?” you snapped, as his eyes grew wide.

“That was you?” he asked, “You’re so stupid!”

He quickly walked back towards you but kept a few feet of space in between. It was like he was too scared to get close.

“I understand why you wanted to do what you did for Richie. I couldn’t stop thinking about the people that hurt you being out there, living their lives when yours was over,” you sobbed, as he wiped the tears from his cheeks. “I said forever, and I meant it.”

He closed the space between the two of you, his lips connecting with yours. The kiss was aggressive, like you both needed it so badly for so long that you never wanted your mouths to stop moving. His hands were roaming everywhere he could reach. Your hips, your ass, your breasts. Every new area he touched had you whimpering into the kiss.

He pulled away, looking into your eyes. “I need you, baby.”

You knew what he meant; his tone full of lust. You looked around at the dead leaves and twigs on the ground, realizing that it wasn’t the most comfortable place for you to go at it for a long time, which is what you fully intended on doing.

“My parents are out of town. Let’s go,” you said, grabbing his hand as you ran with him through the woods back to your place.

Once you made it inside the front door and closed it, he shoved you up against it. You were both breathing heavy from the running, and from the anticipation.

“Have you fucked anyone since me?” he asked, his eyes dark as they looked into yours.

“No, I’ve only wanted you,” you said, as he started to smirk.

“Good, because that pussy belongs to me,” he growled, before roughly kissing you. Your arms went around his neck as his hands went to your waist, lifting you off the ground. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his hips. You could feel his cock though his jeans as it pressed against your ass, the feeling making you moan against his lips.

He carried you over to the couch, not wanting to waste a single second of time. You only pulled apart from the kiss when you both took your shirts off. You noticed the scars on his shoulder and chest, gently running your fingers over them as he started to unbutton your jeans.

You couldn’t help but wonder what the full story was. What happened after you thought he was dead?   Those thoughts were quickly pushed to the side as he slid your jeans and panties down in the same motion.

“You have no idea how bad I’ve wanted to taste you again,” he said, leaning in and licking your clit.

“Oh shit,” you whined, your fingers going to his hair as his mouth moved faster against you. “Fuck I missed you eating me out.”

He moved his mouth lower, his tongue dipping inside your dripping core. He kept moving his tongue, the sounds flooding out of your mouth going straight to his throbbing cock.

He moved back up to focus on your clit as he slid a finger in you, before adding another. Your pussy was sucking his fingers in as the wet sounds filled the room.

“Oh fuck, right there!” you cried out as the pads of his fingers moved against that special spot inside of you. “Fuck, just like that. Yesss.”

You started to move your hips against his fingers and mouth as his free hand had a strong grip on your thigh. It didn’t take long for his fingers to move faster, and that feeling you hadn’t felt in so long started to creep up. Yeah, you’d been able to get off a couple times by yourself, but nothing ever compared to how Ethan does it.

“You’re going to make me cum,” you whimpered, the intensity of the feeling getting stronger and stronger as your hips started to jerk. Ethan just kept going, his fingers and mouth not slowing as tears started to slip down your face. The orgasm was so strong as you babbled out, the things you were saying not making any sense.

When you started to relax onto the couch and your hips stilled, he slid out his fingers. You whined at the emptiness, as he started to laugh. “God, baby, you’re so needy.”  He quickly got out of his jeans and slid his boxers down, not wanting another second of time to pass without him being inside of you.

He crawled on top of you and lined up at your entrance. You squealed as he slid inside of you, the fullness making your breath hitch in your throat.

“Fuck, so tight,” he groaned, “I missed this so fucking much.”

“I missed it too,” you moaned, as he started to thrust harder. “Oh fuck!”

You were whining as his hips pounded into you, the relentless pace turning your brain to mush. He started to slow down a little, not wanting to cum too quickly.

“Let me ride you, baby,” you whimpered, “Please, I need it.”

He groaned at your words, sliding out long enough to sit on the couch. You straddled him as he gripped the base of his erection for you to sink down onto him.

“Oh my god,” you whined out, as your hands held onto the back of the couch and his hands went to your breasts.

He massaged them before taking one of your nipples into his mouth, moaning around it as your hips started to move quicker. He noticed you weren’t going all the way down, his size a little too much for you to handle.

“Aww, baby. Is it too much for you?” he asked sweetly, before grabbing your hips and fucking the rest of his cock up in you.

“Fuck fuckfuck,” you cried out, feeling the tears well up again from the pleasure. “I can’t take it.”

“Yeah you can baby, just relax. You’re doing so good for me,” he cooed, as you started to meet his thrusts with your hips. The sound of your ass slapping against his thighs echoing off the walls. “So fucking good.”

One of his hands left your hip and started to rub quick circles on your swollen clit, your walls starting to flutter the second he did it.

“You getting close, baby?” he asked, his lustful eyes looking into the ones that you were struggling to keep open.

“Mhm,” you whimpered, your eyes screwing shut as you moved as fast as you could, chasing your orgasm. “Gonna-fuck..cum,” you got out, as he added a little more pressure to your clit. “Holy fuck!”

His hands went back to your hips as you started to go limp in his arms, too fucked out to move. He bounced you on him, chasing his own orgasm. All you could do was whimper, the tears trickling out of your eyes at the feeling. He pulled out of you, his cum shooting all over your tummy and his.

“Hey, hey baby,” he said softly, “Are you okay?”

He wiped the tears from your cheeks as before you relaxed onto him.

“That felt so good,” you said, your head resting against his chest.

“I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No baby, it was perfect.”

You stayed there pressed against him as his fingers ran up and down your bare back. It felt so nice to have him back, and you never wanted to let him go again.

“What happened? Like after you were found?” you asked, your fingers running over the scars again.

He sighed, nervous to tell you all the gory details. “I had a faint pulse when they found me. They didn’t expect me to make it. I lost a lot of blood, and had some head trauma,” he said, as you sat up a little to look at him. “Then after I started to get better, they started talking about court and I got interrogated. But someone started their own little killing spree. I started to lie, saying that the real killer that was helping dad and Quinn must still be out there if people were still dying and I was sitting in the hospital.”

“And they believed you?” you asked, waiting for him to continue.

“Yeah, not at first, but the evidence didn’t add up to me aside from the robe I was wearing. I told them that dad roped me into it…and that he threated to kill me if I didn’t participate.”

“I still can’t believe they let you out,” you said, still amazed that he was right in front of you.

“I was in there for a while, and I’ve been on so many different medications to deal with the health issues I have now…I’ll tell you about those later. But if it wasn’t for you doing what you did, I would still be in there,” he said, his hands rubbing along your sides. “When I came back, I started staying with my aunt who thinks I was this manipulated, innocent person. She takes me to all my appointments to make sure I don’t have to go back to the psych ward.”

“Why didn’t you come see me?” you asked, feeling a little hurt that he’d been home for a while and didn’t bother to try to see you.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me, so I’ve been going to our spot every single day, just to think. I’d always hoped I’d run into you there,” he said, his voice cracking as he started to tear up. “I just love you so much.”

“I love you too, baby. Forever.” You smiled, “Today was the first time I’ve been there since you left. I found a note from you earlier and I just had to go there,” you said, wiping the tears off his cheeks.

“I’m so happy you did.”

He held you there for a while, loving the way your body felt against him.

“Babe, you wanna go shower? Your cum is still all over us,” you giggled, as his hands gripped your hips.

“Who said I was done with you yet?”

#ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #scream smut #ethan landry smut

[the0racl30fd3lphi]

More than friends, less than lovers. x.t

pairing: xavier thorpe x gn!reader

summary: the whole hyde ordeal has faded slowly in the background as life carried on, the student body ready to grasp onto some new drama. luckily for them, a love triangle is exactly what they needed to fuel the gossip.

warnings: fluff, angst, love triangle (kinda)

a/n: y'all this idea literally came to me at 4 in the morning so please bear with me (as i also wrote it at the ass crack of dawn) i am so obsessed with percy and xavier and wanted to write this desperately, he is all i can think about.

word count: 1,727

part 2 part 3

——————————————————————————

You hated this. This, stage, between what you were and what you could be. Xavier was your best friend. He always had been, truth be told. Yet as soon as he broke up with Bianca your relationship had a shift. Suddenly somethings had a deeper connotation, a hidden meaning. You didn’t hate it. In fact, this was exactly what you had been waiting for for years. Until She came along.

You didn’t hate Wednesday, unfortunately. She had done nothing to spark your anger. It wasn’t like she was purposely making Xavier adore her. It looked like she would rather be without it, being honest. But did it annoy the hell out of you that he was so enamored with her so quickly, when she did nothing to give the idea that she would reciprocate? And yet he seemed to not want to give up on her? While simultaneously leading you on, making you believe you might have a romantic future with him? And being oblivious to the pain it caused? It was the only thing you ever thought about.

Genuinely, you wondered how he could still be so obsessed with her to buy her a phone, after she wrongfully got him imprisoned. If that wasn’t a walking red flag you didn’t know what was.

You and Xavier had stayed close throughout this internal turmoil you went through. It hurt like a bitch, but you’d be damned if you lost him over a girl he liked. Suppressing your feelings wasn’t anything you were stranger to, there were other ways to get out your thoughts.

Something you did often, that you’d never tell him was how frequently you abused mimicking his ability. At first he had found it interesting and expressed he had no problem with you copying his habits. But if he knew what you used it for he’d probably be mad.

Each night, after leaving his dorm and sneaking back into yours, you drew a photo from that day. What he looked like when he smiled. How he laughed. Taking into extreme detail his face, scrunched, while watching a show together. Though you weren’t really watching the show so much as watching him.

You kept these drawings in a box, under your bed, all the way in the back. It was hidden enough to never be seen or touched by anyone. So you used the late Rowan’s telekinesis ability to bring it out and put it back. Was this a healthy coping mechanism? Oh not at all, seeing as some drawings that originated from the latest of nights and most intimate moments, would have made Wednesday blush. Of course it's all innocent, right up until you put it down on paper.

"Drawing lover boy again?" Your best friend Val, barked at you from across the room.

"Lover boy? That's a new one," you softly put the new drawing of him in the box, and back under your bed in the furthest corner. "Not such an accurate name this time, you're losing your touch my friend."

"Well you wish it was, so close enough in my book," She shrugs and jumps onto your bed.

"Close only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades," you pull your laptop on your lap, and press play on your favorite show to watch together.

"You sound like your father," She gags and you playfully slap her arm before shushing her and cuddling into her side.

—————————————————��————————

It was lunch the next day, you had a free period the class before so you were waiting for Xavier to show up at your usual bench in the quad. He was taking a little bit longer than normal so you started early on your homework.

"If it isn't Xavier's little girl," she paused. "friend."

"Bye Bianca," you waved and put the volume up on your phone.

“Where is he this time? With Wednesday maybe?" she crossed her arms and smiled maliciously. "It's already started!" She laughed.

You tried to mind your business, she only ever wants to cause problems and you know this. "What's started?" you kept your eyes on your work, putting the volume lower to hear her better.

“He's bored of you. Just like when he got bored of me and you two got closer? He's onto Wednesday now, and done with you." She raised her eyebrows and put on an innocent doe-eyed look. "Well, anyway, have a good lunch!"

She walked away and went back to her friends. You didn't want to believe it. Would Xavier really replace you with Wednesday? He couldn't, he wouldn't. Even when he was dating Bianca, sure you hung out less, but you were still in his life. She was just trying to get in your head right?

“Sorry I'm late, got a little held up in class," He put his stuff down next to him and grabbed some food from the lunch you packed for the two of you. Cooking had become a stress habit for you, so nightly you sneak into the kitchens and prepare something for the next day.

“What kept you?" You put your stuff in your bag and grabbed a snack from the pile.

"Class, I said that didn't I?" He talked through a mouthful of food.

“Yeah but, what kept you? The teacher? Extra work?” you tried to press while eating your half of the lunch.

“Uh, just some extra credit work, wanna bring my grade up you know?” His answer was strained, and his eyes looked anywhere but at yours. So you followed his gaze, to Wednesday.

“Yeah, for sure,” You mumbled and went back to eating. Even if you wanted to escape him for another hour, to try and calm the thoughts in your head, you couldn’t. You two had the same class next period and you always walked together.

——————————————————————————

The day felt strained, any conversation with Xavier fell off track and eventually died out too soon. It’d been too long since this pattern started. Ever since she came to Nevermore, things slowly got worse between you two. You weren’t as close as before and it killed you.

So like every night, afraid to break habit, you snuck out of Xavier’s dorm to hang out. Right before you were going to knock on the door you heard two hushed voices in the room.

“You can’t keep doing this Xavier, you’re hurting her.” a voice pressed him for answers, sounding upset.

“We’re fine, Ajax.” Xavier fought back, offended anyone would accuse him of doing anything to hurt you.

“How dense are you that everyone can see it, but you?” Ajax stressed the end of his sentence still trying to be quiet.

“See what!” Xavier was getting increasingly agitated.

Your grip on the handle faltered and it wiggled just loud enough for both boys to notice it. Suddenly the door was opening and you smiled sheepishly at Xavier, “Hi.”

“I’m gonna leave,” Ajax looked between the both of you and you moved out of the way for him to exit. He sent one last glance Xavier’s way before he closed the door and went back to his dorm.

“Sorry, did i interrupt anything?” You apologized, still feeling the tense air.

“No,” He ran a hand through his hair in the same manor that always drove you crazy. “Nothing important.”

And just as quick as your conversation, Xavier went to sketching as you made yourself comfortable in his bed with your book. How quickly he could make your heart speed up and then break it felt like a world record now.

——————————————————————————

It’s been two weeks now since you accidentally overheard Xavier’s conversation with Ajax that night. Things hadn’t changed between you two, and you can’t figure out if that’s a good thing or not yet. Val had been pushing you to just confront him about your feelings. She knew letting them simmer inside was doing no one any good.

So on a night similar to that one fateful evening, you mustered up the courage to finally ask him what you meant to each other.

“Hey Xavi,” you asked, leaning slightly to the side now as he turned around from the mural he was painting on his wall to look at you. “What do I mean to you?”

He seemed to freeze, face tinting slightly rosier, whether it was blush or anger you didn’t know yet.

“What do you mean?” He dipped his brush in the cup he used to clean them, going right back to his art. It made you study his face, his posture, before continuing your question.

“I mean, I know what you mean to me. I know what i feel for you,” you felt emboldened by seeing him try and play off his nervousness watching him tense and straighten his back. “But I don’t know what I am to you.”

He paused and blinked, it looked like he was going to say something but he made no move to speak. After two minuets he finally opened his mouth, “Where is this coming from? You’re my best friend, you’re.. I..” He trailed off.

“But it’s more than that. More than friends,” he flushed pink, taking in a large gulp. “But less than lovers.” His grip turned white on the brush as he slumped slightly. Still he made no move to speak, so you turned away and went to collect your things. Nothing was said between you two as you packed up what you brought and slung your bag over your shoulder.

As you slipped out the door and into the shadows, mimicking a poltergeist you had once seen and turning yourself almost completely invisible. No one could even hear you breath and you floated through the halls back your dorm.

And in the faint night hair, before you left the wing his dorm was in, you could’ve sworn you heard him call your name and try to get your attention. But it was futile as you just sped up and got back to your dorm quicker.

Val said nothing as you slumped into your bed, rolling your stuff off the side and curling up with a blanket in your arms. She must’ve been able to infer what happened, and she climbed in next to you to hold you as you silently wept. Not even a shake ran through you as the tears fell. No one could hear the sound of your heart shattering that night.

#xavier thorpe x reader #wednesday #peter hynes white #xavier x reader #xavier thorpe #im so in love with him #i wanna shift for him so bad

[vigilskeep]

not sure if you've been asked this before but how do you think the bg3 companions would fit in thedas? like. i can totally picture talvashoth lae'zel, grey warden wyll, astarion as a runaway from tevinter enslavement, etc.

oh!!

yeah qunari lae’zel checks out, it’s the same archetype. warrior, champion subclass, maybe throw in a little templar. i could go either way on grey warden wyll but he’s for sure a spirit warrior relying on a desire demon’s help. i’d love him to be a rogue with those abilities. and the duellist subclass too. and a free marcher!!

i simply couldn’t see astarion as an elf in dragon age. he’s just. so fundamentally upper class. i have to human noble-ify him, sorry. i could see him as a nobleman turned orlesian bard by an abusive master. so rogue, bard and assassin subclasses. (as an aside, i think he could be inspiration or a jumping off point for a really fun mage character: privileged human noble apostate son of a bitch who gets caught by the templars, has the worst possible circle experience anyone can get, gets free, and is pretty damn sure he doesn’t owe the world even a sliver more restraint than what it takes to keep becoming an abomination from ruining his hair. that’s a completely separate idea i’m getting carried away with. he’d kill it as a blood mage though.)

as for the others... gale is a tevinter mage, for sure. sorry for the baggage my love but his character hinges on an unashamed appreciation for magical ability, both his own and experienced from others throughout his life. that kind of value would only be placed on it in one place in thedas. mage, and a subclass like necromancer or rift mage that pushes the boundaries a little on what’s allowed or possible, without going all out maleficar. shadowheart on the other hand, i could see as an elven/elf-blooded circle mage? a prodigy of loyalist circle politics, plus it would set off the dynamic with qunari lae’zel perfectly. mage, spirit healer/arcane warrior. and karlach... hmm, screams city elf or dwarf commoner origin to me. maybe starring the blight as her terminal condition, or her engine as some kind of dwarven botched attempt at recreating the golems. warrior, berserker subclass obviously, maybe reaver too.

those would be my initial thoughts

[perseephoneee]

decorating the tree (kol mikaelson x f!reader) {ficmas day 5}

꒰ ࿁ ˙ ˖ ໑ happy day 5 of ficmas!

warnings: kind of angsty, mostly fluffy, a little steamy. but most importantly, festive.

a/n: i got a little carried away with this one. kol is just my baby boy. also the formatting is horrendous because tumblr was being a little bitch.

↳ masterlist  ↳ ship exchange ↳ join my taglist ↳ ficmas 2023

The holidays could be the most bittersweet time of the year. Observing everyone with their friends and families without having your own was lonely and often damaging. You usually could go home for the holidays, see your loved ones, or sleep in at your childhood home, but not this year. This year, because of all the shit happening in the French Quarter, you were forced to be alone.

You hated every second of it.

But, being the go-getter you were, you decided to make the most of it. And you involved the Mikaelsons in this scheme (they were part of the reason you were stuck in this mess anyway).

You had dragged Kol with you to get a Christmas tree. More like, Rebekah had convinced him to go with you. You harbored a massive crush on the original vampire, and Bex, your newest friend, was fully aware of it. It’s why she engineered him to spend more time with you. He helped drag the tree to your tiny apartment and lounged on your couch like a cat as you finished setting it up and dragging out your holiday ornaments.

“Should I go for a color scheme or just hang up whatever?” You asked Kol, holding up a box of white and gold ornaments. He was posed on your couch like a Greek statue, hand thrown over his eyes and legs sprawled out like he couldn’t give a damn. He opened one eye to look at your ornaments. You held up your box of random accouterments, including an abominable snowman and a glittery baguette ornament.

“I like the random ones,” Kol mumbled, laying his head back and letting out a sigh like the world was oh so cruel.

“Am I boring you?” You chastised, a frown marring your features.

“Darling, you could never bore me,” Kol coos. “I just find this to be obtuse.”

“What about it is obtuse?”

“When will you get to enjoy all of this?” Kol finally sat up, gesturing to your apartment. “With everything going on…you’d be lucky to have a Christmas.”

You deflated at his words, clutching your box of ornaments between your hands. Kol was right, but you loathed it. You wanted to just have a holiday, that was all.

He took notice of your somber mood and got off the couch to crouch in front of you.

“Don’t worry, Y/N,” he sighed, picking up an ornament and hanging it on the tree. “Maybe I’ll be wrong.”

He wasn’t entirely wrong; you wanted to hate him for that. But you never could, not really. You spent your whole life feeling like you were holding your breath, but it was like you could actually breathe with him. He made you smile and also frustrated you to no end. Kol saved your life once, and you wondered there and then if it was physically possible to give him your heart. You never figured that part out.Later that week, you were at the Mikaelson compound preparing for a war meeting slash holiday dinner. Dinner was your idea, and Elijah backed you up. Some poor soul they compelled was likely making you food as you sat on Rebekah’s bed, flipping through a book.

“Did you ever have any holiday traditions?” You asked the blond, not looking up as you spoke. You could hear her rifling around at her vanity when she turned to you.

“Bonfire,” Bex answered. “We’d write our wishes and throw them in the fire.”

“We should do that!” You exclaimed, looking up at her. She chuckled at your excitement, even as a melancholy look crossed her features.

“What would you wish for?”

Rebekah took a beat.

“My family, together, at peace,” she said softly, looking down. You repositioned yourself to sit at the end of the bed, looking at her sadly.

“I won’t leave you, you know,” you murmured. “Even if I should’ve hit the hills a while ago.”

“I know that, dove,” Rebekah sighed. “You’re as much a part of this family as I am. I’m…grateful for that.” She tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, and you were hit by the realization that she was just a girl in a woman’s body. “Because you’re my family, I know exactly what you’d wish for.”

“Oh?” You lifted a brow at that.

“For someone to meet you under the mistletoe,” Rebekah teased, getting up from her chair and tackling you down on the bed in a fit of giggles.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” you gasped between laughter.

“Oh dear, Y/N, if only you could acknowledge how much he cares,” Rebekah sighed, and you poked her on the nose before rolling out of her reach.

“Don’t tell lies, Bex, it’s cruel,” you chastised.

“Is my darling sister being a vixen again?” Kol called from the doorway, catching both you and Rebekah’s attention. He leaned up against the door, arms crossed and a smirk on his face. You felt your heart rate pick up as you took him in.

“What do you want?” Rebekah inquired, looking bored.

“Dinner is ready; I came to fetch you,” Kol smirked, giving you a wink that sent your heart spiraling from the stratosphere. Rebekah grumbled and got up, pushing past you and out the door. You moved to follow, but Kol grabbed your arm, pulling you back towards him.

“Kol,” you breathed, looking up at him in question.

“Do I scare you?” He asked, peering at you. “What?”

“Or is it nerves?” He traced his thumb over the vein on your inner arm, and you could swear he was listening to how your heart thumped. “What makes your heart jump every time I come around?”

“I get startled,” you stutter, ignoring the look in his eyes at your lie. Kol hummed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear as his fingers traced your face.

“You know what I loathe about you?” Kol whispered. “You smell too sweet to resist…”

You wondered what would happen if you dared to kiss him right then, but the timing was never your forte, and you were interrupted by Rebekah yelling at the two of you to hurry up. You pulled yourself away, holding your breath, hoping to calm down as you descended the stairs. You could feel Kol following behind you.

Dinner was extravagant, as most things in the household were. You gored on rotisserie chicken and baked brie, letting the flavors coat your tongue. Elijah and Klaus bickered back and forth about a course of action with fighting the witches (they wanted Hope, of course). You could have been more helpful in these discussions anyway. Frankly, you weren’t sure why they kept you around. Maybe one day you’ll find out.

Dinner was interrupted by an explosion.

You felt yourself fly back, hitting the floor in the dust. The enemies had effectively retaliated, and the Mikaelsons fought back perfectly with tooth and claw. You brought yourself to a standing position, coming eye to eye with a witch who looked at you like you were a pawn on a chessboard. You sucker-punched her before she could make a move.

The Mikaelsons dealt with the threat in record time, and when the dust on their battlefield had settled, the arguments started. First, Klaus ranted about how they should’ve been more prepared, and then Elijah tried to explain how they made logical choices up to this point. Rebekah would occasionally butt in.

You just stood there hearing the noise build up in your head. You had the vague sense that you were bleeding, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. Someone came up next to you, and you turned to see it was Kol. He said something that you didn’t hear before biting his wrist and holding it up to you. You tentatively took it, letting his blood coat your throat before pulling away. The ringing stopped, and you felt your body stabilize.

The pressure from the family screaming match didn’t go away, though. Someone yelled, “Stop,” and everyone turned to look at you. You almost didn’t recognize your own voice breaking the chaos.

“Just stop,” you pleaded. You looked at each sibling, forcing them to really see you. “It’s the fucking holidays…why is there always fighting? Why are you always fighting?” Your voice broke. “You have each other, and you care so much even when you pretend you don’t, and you’re always fighting.”

“I would do anything to have my family right now, but I don’t, and it kills me,” you choked. “You guys have each other, and what do you do? Nothing. Nothing at all.”

You don’t know why you broke, but you did. Being alone during your favorite season hurt you way more than you let on. It felt like looking from outside your body as you walked out of the compound on the way home. You entered your apartment silently, flipping on the lights to absolute silence.

You took a shower and went out in pjs, bundling yourself up in front of your fireplace. It was one of the amenities that sold you on the apartment. You wrote out your wishes on a piece of paper, folding them into paper cranes (for the sake of being dramatic) and tossing them in the fire. You sniffled, hugging your knees to your chest and weeping. You missed home and your family. You felt terribly alone.

On your paper cranes, you wrote for your family, for being surrounded by loved ones during the holidays, and Kol liking you back. Simple, trivial wishes, but ones you had nonetheless. You debated calling it an early night when you heard a knock on your door.

You got up slowly to open it, recoiling in shock when Kol bounds in with Klaus following behind him. Both are wearing Santa hats.

“Mother of God—“ you curse, watching as Kol drops boxes of decorations on your couch and Klaus makes a beeline for your kitchen. “What are you doing here?”

“Celebrating Christmas,” Klaus says, pouring himself a drink (somehow finding your alcohol).

“What?”

“Elijah and Bex will be here shortly,” Kol chimes, taking out some lights and struggling to detangle them. You walk over to help him. As Kol says, Elijah and Rebekah come with more decor than you can handle and even some presents. Elijah gives you the early gift of a record player, a sleek Audio-Technica he sets up in the corner. He puts on a Christmas record and lets Elvis Presley’s “Blue Christmas” sound fill the space. Rebekah decides your apartment should be rearranged and goes to work pushing the furniture into their new places, making Klaus help her. You join Kol in decorating the tree. This mainly includes you redoing what he’s done since he’s absolutely dreadful at it. He pretends like he doesn’t notice you do it.

“This one reminds me of you,” Kol says, holding up a bright red apple ornament. It’s lightly dusted in glitter.

“Why? Because I’m the apple of your eye?” You jest, earning a slight chuckle.

“In Jewish tradition, the apple symbolized strength and hope for prosperity,” Kol explains. “In Wicca, it’s a powerful tool for protection. Much like you.”

You don’t have anything to respond to that, as Kol places the apple in the perfect place. You don’t move to rearrange it, it’s already in its home. You blush under Kol’s gaze and go back to decorating.

Rebekah claps her hands to capture everyone’s attention.

“Family photo time!” She announces, brandishing a camera she must’ve found stashed in one of your drawers. Klaus groans, and she swats him. You all gather in front of the tree. Elijah holds the camera with Klaus behind him, Kol, you, and Rebekah. Rebekah wraps an arm around your middle and props her head on your shoulder as you lean into Kol to fit better in the frame. Kol puts an arm around your shoulders and rests his head against yours.

“Smile,” Elijah says, taking the photo. You all gather around the screen, and you can’t help but smile at how well it turned out.

“You have a future in photography,” you chuckle, nudging Elijah. He rolls his eyes.

“No, thank you.”

Klaus pours everyone some champagne (again, where he was finding your alcohol is a mystery). You see the star at your tree's top and struggle to fit it on. Grabbing a chair, you nervously climb atop it.

“Here, let me help,” Kol says, grabbing your waist for support as you get on your tip toes and fit on the star. He holds you as you step off the chair, finding yourself in his arms. “Can we go somewhere quiet?” He asks, a hint of a tremble in his voice.

You gesture towards the bathroom, a place that’s already too noisy because of your rocky heater. He walks ahead of you, and you close the door behind him. You watch as Kol takes in the checkered floors, blue wallpaper, and clawfoot bathtub.

“Darling, this place is horrendous,” Kol states, and you laugh. “It works.” “It’s terrible.” “Not all of us are made of money,” you cross your arms, leaning against the counter.

“I have to get you a new place purely so I don’t have to look at this one,” Kol runs a hand through his hair, another hand on his hip. He looks ridiculous, and it makes you love him even more.

“What did you need the privacy for?” You ask.

“I have a gift for you,” Kol rifles through his pocket, pulling out a small red box. Your breath catches as he hands it to you. You open the box with trembling fingers to find a necklace inside. It’s simple, with a pendant of a moon eclipsing the sun. Your fingers trace with the charm with a delicacy reserved for beautiful things. “I saw it and thought of you.”

“I don’t know what to say…” “Say you’ll let me take you on a date.”

Your head shoots up, and you look at Kol with wide eyes. For once, his expression isn’t one of a cocky vampire, but rather a nervous boy. “What?”

“I figured it out,” Kol starts, stepping closer to you and cornering you by the door. “Why your heart beat so fast around me…why Rebekah is always asking me to do things with you…why you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” Kol looks down at you, forcing you to look up to meet his gaze. “You like me.”

“I—“ “It’s alright, I like you too. A lot. More than anyone in the past centuries,” Kol whispers. You wonder if maybe that wish you threw in the fire possesses real magic as you see your dreams coming true.

“Okay.” “Okay?”

“You can take me on a date,” you answer, feeling your breath shaky as Kol steps closer.

“Can I call you my girlfriend?” He trails his fingers across your jaw, chin, and lips. Your body is on fire.

“You can call me your girlfriend,” you whimper as his nose brushes yours.

“Can I kiss you?” He lets his breath fan your face, and you can barely let out an affirmative before you grab him by the collar and drag his lips to yours. One of his hands boxes your head against the wall as the other holds your hip, pulling you closer. Your hands tangle in his hair, and you hear him let out a small groan at the action. You let him take control because you’re barely holding on with the way he kisses and touches you. You’re afraid you might break apart if he lets go, and you can barely hold in your gasp as his fingers brush under your shirt.

You would let him take you right there, and then if not for Rebekah knocking on the door.

“Stop snogging and finish the tree!” She yells, earning a growl from Kol as you hear her walk away cackling. He turns back to you, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips as he looks at you with eyes the color of the night sky.

“How does 8pm tomorrow sound?” “Sounds like a date.”

#kol mikaelson #kol mikaelson x reader #kol mikaelson imagine #tvdu #tvd #vampire diaries x reader #vampire diaries #the vampire diaries #ficmas 2023 #12 days of ficmas #my writing

[hollowtones]

this isn't so much a "play this game" message but i heard you mention that you might play the bl*ey game in a similar vein to the p*ppa p*g game. thought i'd note that bl*ey as a franchise is far more genuine and has more spirit in comparison, not to mention the fanbase has expanded overtime a la my l*ttle p0ny.

during the pandemic my friend group bonded heavily over the show bc of its writing which based on my own experience is capable of appealing to adults in a subtle but still deep emotional and wholesome manner. it's a NZ gov't-funded kids show that truly has a purpose as edutainment for young families and fulfills it beautifully.

point is that doing a "wtf is this game about" stream of the recent game may not be the best idea for an otherwise beloved piece of media. also i wouldn't want you to deal with unwanted attention from toxic toon buffs. but don't wanna be bossy, i'm not ya mum ofc. that game does look very silly and adorable like the source so maybe you'd enjoy it! but just wanted to give you a heads up in case the original stream idea is in the works.

PS i listened to the beginning of the final pikmin stream early in the morning chasing around a mouse the cat brought in. so now my brain has connected the existence of the gumby movie to "where is that DAMN mouse"

I have been getting multiple questions and comments and messages about this recently, and I do not understand why.

I made one off-hand comment about wanting to play the game with friends (who like the show, and who were already planning on playing it) because it has multiplayer, and that sounds funny.

It is made by a company that exclusively does kids show licensed shovelware. I do not think it matters if the source material is good. People have been making bad video games out of good properties since video games became a widely produced thing.

(The friends I want to play this with are both fans of the show, and I think it'll be fun to try and understand it through their eyes. They also agree with me that shovelware is weird and funny and fun to pick at. LOL)

There's this weird thread of presumptions in these messages I keep getting, that if I do end up streaming this, it's going to be some weird irony-poisoned thing, or I'm going to be really unnecessarily mean or something. I do not understand. I know I can be kind of a bitch sometimes, but... Have you seen my streams?

"I wouldn't want you to deal with unwanted attention" I already am. I have received like 8 messages about this in the span of a few days. If you are going to get mad at shadows on the wall you do not need to make it my problem.

It's a children's cartoon. It's fine. The dogs will be fine if a bad game comes out and I have a chuckle about it.

Please do not send me questions or comments or presumptions about this anymore. Thanks.

#I have been talking about this with Frankie because he is one of the above-mentioned friends & he said #''i dont think bluey would read all that''

[falling-star-cygnus]

more GuitarSpear bc i honestly cannot stop thinking about their height difference

also- i don't think there's enough jealous Adam fics in the world

{A thick crowd has gathered in one of Heaven's many plazas, fawning over some winner doing... something. Adam couldn't really tell from this far. He didn't really care either. Not when Lute was walking closer then she normally did, more at his side than trailing behind}

{At least- the first man couldn't tell at first. Then he heard the familiar sound of an electric guitar starting up. Nothing worth sticking around for after all}

{Adam was about to continue on his way when he noticed it. Something curdled in his stomach, and he had a pained feeling that it wasn't the food that he had just devoured}

{No- Lute was actually interested in whatever that poser up there was playing. It was her favorite song, but... a scoff escaped him before he could reign it in. Didn't she know Adam could play this song leagues better than whatever nobody it was up on that stage?}

{At least it got her attention back to where it mattered.}

"Sir?" "Come on, Dangertits, let's get out of here."

{Usually, that would be enough to get her ass back in gear and following him. But nooo, not today apparently}

"In a second..."

{To his absolute horror, not only did Lute not listen to him but she actually moved closer to the crowds; she even stood on her tip toes to try and get a glimpse of the stage! The audacity of this woman...}

"Can you even see over everybody?"

{The dirty look she shot him was not worth the snide remark, as it good as it felt. His right hand huffed, wings spreading in a familiar motion as she prepared to take off for a better view}

"Oh, no you don't-"

{Adam grabbed her shoulders before she got the chance, keeping her firmly grounded and eliciting a cute startled noise}

"No way. The last time you took off in front of me, I was plucking feathers out of my teeth for an hour. Take care your wings, bitch, jeez." "Then what do you suggest I do, sir? Scale the audience's shoulders?"

{While the sarcasm was decidedly not appreciated, it did give the first man an idea...}

"No. Just- hold on. Fuck- there ya go."

{Adam scoops Lute up by her hips, situating his lieutenant on his shoulder like that weird yellow rat thing from the show the baby seraphim liked to watch}

{Or maybe it was closer to that red bitch on the amps from the game she had forced him to play... well, whatever. All that mattered to the first man was the warmth that spread under the palm he had kept over her lap to keep her balanced}

{He didn't need the insurance of course. He'd seen Lute balance on edge of his couch in weirder positions. But he knew they both appreciated the gesture anyway}

"Can you see now?"

{Adam can't keep the disdain out of his voice, still bitter that she even wanted to stick around. Lute steals his drink and takes a sip without shame}

"Hey-" "I think I prefer your cover, sir. But thank you for indulging me."

{And then she fucking smirks at him. Coy bitch, she knew what she was doing this whole time!}

{The first man tightens his grip on her lap and turns to stomp off towards his place}

"Damn right my cover is better! Better then the fucking original!" "Sir!?"

{Lute laughs all the way back}

#20 points to whoever gets the references #i just think they should get to be soft with each other #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel 2024 #hazbin hotel fanfiction #guitarspear #guardrock #lute x adam #adam x lute #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lute

[1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt]

I woke up this morning and saw I had a message in my inbox on AO3, presumably about by new fic, and was excited to see the feedback.

When I read what they wrote it was a small comment that said "stop using sudowrite".

Had no idea what that even means, so I had to look it up and found out it's some form of a writing AI.

Absolutely fuming.

I want to make something abundantly clear right now:

I have not been hand writing and editing all of my own stories, hundreds of pages worth of personally hand written or hand typed content for the past 16 years, only to get accused of using any form of lazy ass writing AI now.

This is what I love to do. For fun.

I put in a lot of unpaid time, creativity and energy into my writing and editing. The only thing I ask for in return is participation from the fandoms I love, be it via thoughtful feedback or valid criticisms.

But this is neither of those things. This is just an outright, baseless lie against the art that I have worked so hard to make myself, and I won't be undermined or discredited.

There's anger, and then there's whatever space I am occupying well past it right now.

It's infuriating to pour hours of my love, thought and creativity into original content only to have someone come out of nowhere and try to tell me I've been having an AI do it, especially 16 years deep.

Bitch please.

I also found out that app came out in 2020 . . . As I mentioned, I published my first K/S story in 2008 as Ruby JW on the K/S archives, and my first fanfic on fanfic.net was published in 2007 as luigi_is_stellar.

I invite anyone to peruse my decades-long collection of independent content that I have single-handedly accomplished well before such an app even existed, then come back to me and try to tell me that what I do here isn't authentic.

I don't usually get spicy, but when it comes to the art I spend hours writing and drawing independently with my own blood sweat and tears, yeah. I'm going to get spicy.

I do far too much unpaid work out of passion and love for this fandom to have such a serious accusation flung my way out of nowhere.

It's the first time in my 16 years of writing for this fandom that I've ever been accused of plagiarism, and you best trust and believe that I don't take that accusation lightly. I work too damn hard to let someone discredit the work I do personally in such a baseless manner.

Anyway, that was discouraging AF. I am boggled to learn that AI writing is even a thing, no less someone coming out of the woodwork to try to accuse me of using it 16 years into story publishing when I literally teach academic honesty and writing ethics in my line of paid work as an English professional.

Genuinely: Do you know who you're talking to?

A bit of background on me:

I come from a not-so-wealthy family who could not afford to pay to put me through school -- I paid for that all on my own. I had to earn my University English degree, one of four University degrees I hold on my own work and pay alone, without so much as a tutoring session or handout from home.

Not once would I have jeopardized everything I worked so hard and paid for out of my own pocket as a poor ass uni student working two jobs and doing night classes just to phone it in plagiarizing, not on one ounce of my work.

That was all me.

I've handwritten 3 MLA essays in under three hour exams BACK TO BACK, immediately followed by back-to-back Biology exams & a final lab where I ALSO had to write multiple essays and switch from MLA to APA mode within the span of 6 hours.

Those were all bound in handwritten yellow booklets well before we ever had Google Docs, Grammarly, formatting suggestions, or even regularly brought/had access to laptops in UNI. I did my work by hand.

I earned my degrees in English and Biology AT THE SAME TIME before I even turned 24. I earned a double major handwriting my own work papers like my life depended on it, and you actually think I'm about to phone it in now?

Step to me like that again, young blood. I ain't the one.😂

Anyway, I digress.

Ya girl ain't here to fight BC y'all know I tend to be very easygoing, full of humour, and I love to joke around in the fandom. I'm pretty wide open to opposing opinions or even criticisms. But this is unfounded slander, and I won't be taking that on the chin.

When it comes to my work, I take that very seriously, and I don't play around. My late father once told me that "The work you do and the degrees you earn are yours and yours alone, they can never take that education from you." I live by that sentiment, and have done so by putting forth honest work.

Be it paid or unpaid work, it's my work. Periodt.

It is an unfathomably disheartening and insulting message to receive as someone who writes all their own stuff themselves, draws all their own fanart themselves, does their own photo edits themselves, edits their writing themselves, and has never even used so much as a single outside beta reader/editor for my work. Not once. The art, the writing, the editing -- It's all me.

Bottom line:

Say you do or don't like my work, that's cash money and we good, whether it's your cup of tea or not.

Butt know that it is my work.

I will not put all of this free time, effort and love into my work only to be accused of lazily ripping the content that I have spent hours writing and personally editing from somewhere else.

And on that note, consider my PSA rant ended.

#FUMING #feeling muy picante #like . . . you put in so much goddamn work wroting editing drawing #only to have some arsehole come out of the woodwork and give all the credit to a ROBOT #hell to the no #1shirt2shirtredshirtdeadshirt #my art #rant #plagarism #slander #k/s #spirk #oc #my fic #fanart #fanfic #spirk fanfic #so so so mad #fanfic writing #the struggle is real #you think someone left a nice comment about the work you've been meticulously working on and editing #only to get THAT GARBAGE in your inbox😤

[hotwings0203]

The idea of being in an argument w your yandere or being upset while in a car w them is SO hot

Like I’m thinking of some psycho like dabi or a conceited narcissist like bakugo in this situation, maybe it’s not even a yandere but def a crazy possessive dude who has serious issues. I guess you could do a guy like hawks, whose great in public and seriously pent up at home. Maybe even shigaraki, a guy whose not necessarily strong and intimidating from the outside, but whose eerie presence and potential keeps you in line

Tw:noncon, kidnapping, dubcon

Imagine he takes you out after a long time of being cooped up at home, being preoccupied physically yet mentally in a catatonic state as they show you the only use you have is underneath them. They finally agree to take you out to a friends’ party at a bar once your tears never seem to stop after a couple of days.

They look at you curled up on the bed like a scorned cat, your legs tucked up in a fetal position as you glare at them from underneath the tiny open pocket in the blanket you seek refuge in. The tears in your eyes shine in the dim candlelight of the dark room, akin to a cat’s eyes flashing as it remains crouched from behind the shadows.

“Can you stop being such a fucking brat and just come shower with me already?” He drones, dragging a hand down his face and sighing in exasperation as you glower and flip the other way, effectively cutting the conversation off. For a couple days now you’ve been putting up more resistance than usual, and while he finds it cute that you think you can evade him for that long, it’s annoying fighting tooth and nail to force you to be close to him, much to your chagrin.

He pinches the bridge of his nose as his scowl lines grow deeper. He’s annoyed, but he knows he’s being unfair. He’s been selfish, moving too fast for you even though he has so many more plans to keep you here forever than you know to the point where he’s realized you might seriously start to consider putting distance between you two.

Hah. As if he’d ever let you try that shit.

And so, one promise of coaxing you out of your “impenetrable fortress” of bed material leads to him agreeing to finally let you see your friends again.

Anything works if it means you’ll semi-willingly and very begrudgingly approach him.

He misses your smile, your laughter, the bright light you provide in his eternal void that caves in so deep inside of him that it swallows him inside out.

You look beautiful, he can’t lie, and he watches you sway to the music in your red dress. Truth be told, he’s glad you whined when he said no to it originally. It shows too much skin, yeah, but fuck he’d be damned if he didn’t admit the way your arms extend above your head so elegantly makes his heart ache.

Your hips rocking side to side in sync with the crooning tunes playing above makes his dick harder than it’s been since the last time he had you pinned beneath him, and he wants nothing more than to drag you by your cascading hair and fuck you up against the bathroom stalls like the teasing slut you are.

But his mood rapidly plummets as he notices a group of friends he vaguely recognizes slink up next to you, joining your movements and linking hands with you.

Hands that flutter around your curves, hands that aren’t his traveling up and down your sides, against the silk you’re in and dangerously close to places he’s meticulously claimed as his own.

But if that wasn’t enough by itself, when his eyes widen and he starts making his way around the bar counter to glare at you and to get the message of distance across, you…

You roll your eyes and turn away from him.

You fucking bitch.

Who do you think you are?

Enough is enough.

Without any more provocation, your enraged captor/lover storms through the crowd, shoving bodies aside and uncaring about knocking shoulders with people who cry out indignantly at his uncouth mannerisms.

From the corner of your eye you watch as a familiar head stalks it’s way to you, and by the time you’ve turned and witnessed the scene he’s making as he comes towards you, you’re scrambling backwards and tripping over your own dress.

But it’s too late, too little to acknowledge his presence as he pushes up against you and snarls in your face, “Playtime’s over slut. Did you enjoy all the attention? Shit, if you wanted some dick all you had to do was say so.”

You whimper in fear and desperately look around the party for anyone to come and intervene, but suddenly the music seems to be louder and the eyes that were previously on you and your little spat have turned to inspect the floor and around the room.

No one’s crazy enough to save you from what’s coming.

“Please! It hurts, let go! ___, stop fucking pulling me!” You yell through tears as your nails dig into his wrist.

He pays you no mind, pulling you through the mostly empty lot as a color red darker than your dress clouds his eyes, the image of you dancing like a whore while ignoring him playing in his mind on repeat.

His grip tightens marginally but you squeal all the less.

“What the fucks your problem? What, you can’t stand me having fun for more than 5 minutes without butting your crooked nose into it-“

This is the most you’ve spoken in over weeks, but he can’t find it in him to feel grateful as you falter when he yanks open the car door and practically throws you in the passenger seat.

Before you can even straighten yourself upright in the seat, he’s already rounded the car and locked the doors. You open your mouth to fire off another round of insults when he starts talking in a low, barely controlled voice.

“When we go home, your phone, laptop, keys, and any electronic you have is out the fucking window. You wanna act like the child? You wanna be a brat who can’t stay in her lane and be grateful? I’ll show you what happens when you act like one.”

Your agape mouth curls back in fear as he turns to face you, his enraged leer taking up the entirety of his face, his eyes gleaming with malice more than usual. His knuckles on the steering wheel are bone-white as he turns sharply this way and that, jostling you in your seat.

“You-you can’t do that. You’re not my goddamn father-“

“The hell I am, I’m your fucking daddy for all you know. After the shit you pulled tonight? I’m gonna act like one too.”

Your lip trembles as he continues in a growl, the streets blurring and starting to go by faster as he works himself up with terrible promises.

“-bend you over on my knee, beat your ass black and blue like how you wanted right? This was all for attention? Well, you got my fucking attention you cock-hungry whore.”

Your heart drops because you know the difference between his empty threats and his real ones.

He never has empty promises.

“I’m gonna tie you up and gag you with your own panties, would you like that, huh slut? You wanna be treated like my bad little girl?”

You sob and turn to the window as he shoves one hand in between your legs, groping harshly at your thin-lace panties and pressing his thumb near where you clit is.

“Nah. Nah, don’t fight me off now baby, I’m just playing your game. Look at me when I’m talking to you, the same way you look at me when you’re taking my dick so fucking deep.”

Your efforts to squeeze your legs together are thwarted as his massive hand pinches the meat of your thighs, forcing you to open up.

Your chest heaves as you gaze blankly out the window, your heart suddenly jumping when you realize he’s going 120 in a 50 lane.

“W-wait, please, slow down you’re going too fast.”

He booms with laughter and starts jerking the car left and right, doing nothing but increasing the speed 10 more miles up.

“Why, does this scare you? Are you scared, little girl?” His lip curls back into a deadly grin as he takes his eyes off the (thankfully) mostly empty highway and stares at you, your knees tucked away from him into the side of the car door. Your dress is askew and teasing a glimpse of your inner thighs due to his perverse ministrations before, your mascara running down your face.

You look like you got a good fucking, and he can’t help but to adjust his straining boner in his pants as he blatantly leers at you, his lip in between his teeth as he takes you in.

You’re terrified at his lack of attention on the road at the speed he’s going, so scared that your throat chokes up and all you can do is gape and point a trembling hand at the road.

“The! R-road, look!” You cough out and curl your hand against the armrest, your fingers tightening in preparation for the worst.

“Hey, you’re the one who brought this on yourself. This is what you get for ignoring me and breaking my trust. I have half a mind to pimp you out since I’m such a good boyfriend and all you want is attention.” His voice is airy and light but trembling with rage still. Just to turn things up a notch and to really teach you a lesson, he turns the radio on all the way to full and starts suddenly cutting across four lanes of empty road, then speeding back to his previous lane, and then again.

“Fucking stop! I’m sorry! I’m sorry, please slow down!” You shriek, closing your eyes and bracing your body for impact.

But miraculously, he slows down and ceases the lane-swerving.

Your blood pounds in your ears and you grasp the sides of your dizzy head as you heave fast breaths. Your whole body is shaking, and you feel like you’re gonna puke as it takes a few minutes to calm down and stop an impending panic attack.

By the time you lift your head up from your knees and gotten a hold of your surroundings, you realize with a pang of shock that he’s already parked in some secluded woods area, and plopped you in the backseat.

“Finally, you said something. ‘Was wondering how long we’d live from the way you were forcing me to drive.”

You glance up and flinch at the way he looks.

The car is turned off, the moonlight behind him illuminating his silhouette and eerily only letting the whites of his eyes shine bright with mocking anticipation.

It’s befitting for him, he thinks, that the area he picked is dark and littered with giant trees that look overhead. The only light in this void that is so reminiscent of himself is one that he allows to come through, light that he lets you see, and that he takes as well.

You’ll shine as bright as he allows so.

“And now, for your lesson, little slut.”

*******

IM GONNA DO A PART TWO SOON SINCE I LIKED THIS ONE HEHEHEH

#mha #bnha #dabi #tw: noncon #yandere hawks #bnha yandere #shigaraki #yandere #bnha dabi #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugou #bakugo katsuki #mha dabi #bakugo mha #dabi scenarios #yandere dabi x reader #dabi x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki imagine #bnha smut #bnha oneshots #yandere mha #yandere oneshot #tw: yandere #tw:dubcon #tw: kidnapping

[satanic-witchcraft]

…the person who requested the swap AU just gave me an idea, hehe

What if swap Wally gets a bit too cocky w listener and it actually makes them cry, so him having a secret crush on them just panics and tries everything to calm us down XD

You guys are getting more opposite-Wally because I SAID S- nah I'm just teasing! Haha! Honestly though.. Wally and opposite-Wally are just everything at the moment- haha! But of course as usual, before we get into the audio!

Credits & disclaimers/trigger warnings!!

First, the Art: The art used in this video for the audio, was done by the amazing @/imjade381 here on tumblr!! I want it CLEAR that this isn't my art, this is their art! And they do AMAZING stuff so if you can please go give them a follow!!

Second, The Au: This alternative universe was made and created by @henneysilly over on tiktok!! If you can, please go give them a follow and check out they're stuff!! They're a very neat lad!

This is NOT my original artwork or welcome home au!! <3

Trigger warnings: Hateful/hurtful comments! He's a little mean!

Subtitles, Opposite-Wally speaking: [laughter] Honestly neighbor, look at you! You are so pathetic! Honestly how does someone like you even exist? You can't really be that stupid. [Neighbor starts to tear up] Huh? Neighbor, what's wrong? Are y-.. Are you crying? Oh! Oh no! I- uh.. Damn it! I'm sorry, I-.. Fuck! I didn't mean t- I didn't mean to make you cry! I was just um... I'm- I'm sorry... I didn't- I didn't mean to.. Actually hurt you! Fuck, damn it! Do I have to fuck everything up? Uh.. No! I-I'm sorry! Ugh, this isn't about me! Neighbor. I am deeply.. Sorry. I do not think you are stupid. I don't, I really don't! I-... I don't know how to talk to you, okay? So I call you stupid, and pathetic, and.. A bitch, because i-I don't know how to talk to you! And I guess that's my way of telling you that I like you but i-... [pause] I didn't mean to say that.. Uhhm fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Uhh! [stammering] just- just shut up! Just shut up for a minute! Uhh um.. I-I'll go get you some tissues! Damn it!

#welcome home puppet show #welcome home #welcome home arg #welcome home opposite au #wally darling opposite au #opposite au #opposite wally #NOT MY OG ART #NOT MY OG AU #wally darling my beloved #welcome home wally #wally darling #wally darling welcome home #wally my beloved #wally welcome home #opposite wally darling #opposite wally x neighbor #wally darling x listener #wally darling x self insert #wally darling x you #wally darling x reader #wally darling x y/n #wally darling x viewer #wally voice impressionist #voice impressionist #voice impressions #voice impression #welcome home wally darling #yandere wally x y/n #wally x you