#I'm putting as many tags as possible I worked way too hard on this for it to go ignored 😭 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

predestinatos · 1 month

Text

you mean everything - MV1 ೀ⋆｡🌷

summary: max needed a wedding date and you were used to being his fake partner.

tags: max verstappen x fem!reader, fake dating, friends to lovers, max is so whipped, fluff, a bit angsty maybe?, mentions of alcohol

word count: 2k

notes: i've been writing (and thinking) so much about max... my period is coming please give me a break i'm sensitive. also would love to get some feedback if possible so i know if it's worth making a series out of this!!!!

"If you want to make it believable at least hold my hand" you half-whispered to Max, who was buttoning his blazer while getting out of the car, you behind him.

"Sorry, I'm not used to this with you" he said chuckling. His sweaty palm held yours tightly, and the feeling of it was odd. Knowing Max for so long meant that these romantic gestures felt almost cringeworthy to you both, and you both had to put up award winning performances every time you played this game.

The game in question being fake-dating. It started as a funny joke where you both thought it would be great to test out the Get A Champagne Bottle For Free At This Restaurant If You Propose theory (which worked, by the way). From then onwards, you used each other as dates whenever asked by annoying family members, creepy coworkers, or just because you felt like lying.

The talking wasn't hard - you both felt comfortable in that part, lying with words coming off almost dangerously natural - but when it came to acting the part, both of you felt awkward, like kids who found relationships absolutely repulsive.

This time, though, the performance would last longer than usual: it was a wedding. Max's friend's wedding. Max could've just gone along, or bring a friend (even you as a friend). Yet he had told his friend, after one too many shots on his Bachelor's Party, and after being chosen as The Guy Who'll Take the Longest to Settle, that he had, in fact, a girlfriend. His friends didn't believe him, so he showed a picture of you two together - a selfie really, nothing much. And they still said they didn't believe it. So here you are.

You couldn't blame him, even if you wanted to. You agreed to use each other as a fake partner for as long as you could in as many situations as required, although when it all started none of you ever thought it would lead to wedding attendances.

So now there you were, Max's hand on yours, entering the small church. His eyes locked with the groom, who waved and called for you to sit near the altar.

"So you ARE real" he said, nervousness laced in his voice even as he tried to lighten the mood himself. You giggled at the irony of it, nodding as you said your congratulations.

"Just wait until the guys see this" he continued gesturing towards the bench where 3 other men around his age sat. Men you had seen before in some Instagram pictures, men you spent the previous night trying to memorize basic information about so you didn't sound suspicious.

Max's hand now fell on your waist almost instinctively - it wasn't instinctively, he told himself once he noticed its positioning. And if it was, it was only because he took this so seriously, almost as a sort of method acting. Sitting down next to his friends, he noticed how all of them seemed surprised at your presence, and something like pride filled his chest. He loved winning, loved being right even if he was lying; but most especially, he loved how jealous other men seemed to be over the fact that he was (at least in their minds) dating you.

He couldn't deny - though he tried, really - that you two looked good together. His rougher features mixed with your softer ones gave you both an aura of near unreachability, which yes, was pretentious of him to think but he thought nevertheless.

The ceremony was quick and endearing, a smile spread across everyone's faces at the shared loved between the bride and the groom. As the crowd clapped, Max leaned into you, "don't tell me you're crying". "I am, just to think that I'll have to keep pretending to date YOU for the next 10 hours" you replied, his mocking smile recognizing the joke.

The reception hall was beautifully decorated with shades of soft green and violet orchids. Max tried not to think about how much it matched the shade of your dress, how you looked like you had come to life from a classical novel. He tried to feel like anyone but Mr. Darcy as you felt so much like Elisabeth Bennett to him.

Sitting down next to him, you found this part easier - mingling and socializing was something you enjoyed more than he did - especially with alcohol in the mix. It's a wedding, you thought; this is what weddings are for.

So you drank the wine with the main course and sipper champagne to celebrate and ordered a few cocktails when it was time to dance and talk - and you felt it on your body almost as much as you felt Max's hand occasionally sitting on your thigh, but not even close to how strongly you felt his thumb caress your skin as he did so. Truth was, he too was drunk; his eyes looked smaller and his cheeks were flushed, and the amount of times he ran a hair through his dirty blonde hair had caused it to look messier. As you looked at him, you felt he never looks as attractive as when he is like this - loose and carefree, his shirt sleeves rolled up and a smile on his face when he notices people laugh at his joke.

"I have to admit I didn't think it was true" his friend said when Max left to go to the bathroom. He looked drunker than the two of you combined, his words hard to decypher, like a riddle. "He's been talking about you for months now and we never saw you for real so we thought you didn't exist" he laughed, and you laughed back before it registered.

"Months?" you asked him, eyebrows furrowed yet attempting to remain composed. You shouldn't have asked it - a supposedly month old girlfriend wouldn't be surprised but you were his fake month old girlfriend and you weren't understanding it anymore.

"Yeah. He talks about you so much all the time I think even we started to date you" he laughed again, yet this time you didn't find the joke so funny. You were frozen in your seat, merely blinking as if trying to put the confusing puzzle together, the pieces not quite fitting the way you thought they would.

A touch on your shoulder unfroze you, almost like magic, like a disney film come to life. You turned around to find the groom, somewhat sober, smiling at you while also looking somewhat concerned. "He's calling for you... And he's also absolutely wasted" he said, pointing to the door of the hall.

"Shit" you cursed, getting up from your seat at a speed you couldn't believe, worry filling your heart, making you forget the conversation you were just having.

Opening the door to the garden outside, you found Max sitting down against the wall, shirt partly unbuttoned and disheveled hair. When he saw you, he grinned, such genuine happiness laced with tipsiness.

"Lightweight" you mocked as you crouched in front of him, trying to balance yourself on your heels, somehow managing it despite your own drunkness.

"You're laughing at my mis- Shit- my misery" his throat bobbed up and down, exaggerating his own agony with a hand on his chest and another on his forehead like a Shakespeare character.

"I have to admit it's quite fun sometimes" you bit your lip as you fixed his hair as best as you could, hands brushing through its soft, blonde mess.

"You're so– you're so sweet" he said, his words dragged and messy. He brought a beer bottle to his lips but you stopped him before any liquid touched them.

"I think that's enough of that for tonight" you grabbed it and placed it behind you, sitting in front of him.

"See now... Now you're being mean" his hand grabbed a strand of your hair and played with it softly as he pouted.

"Okay big boy I'm gonna get you some water" you say, getting up once again, yet his hand stops you, grabbing your wrist tightly.

You looked at him, startled. His drunken state is visible, and it felt frustrating that you had to be the one sobering up for him. The music vibrated through the wall he leaned against, somehow tickling him, making him giggle.

"Stay," he managed to say, eyes half closed, "I'm so glad we're- Fuck things are spinning so much" his hands rushed to his eyes and his head hung low, "Ah fuck. I'm so glad we're datin- Fuck, no, oops-" he continued laughing despite how sick he felt, the whole situation sounding hilarious when filtered through alcohol.

You giggled along with him, mostly because you wanted to see if you could convince him to move, scared he might feel worse or pass out on the cold floor if he doesn't do so. "Fake dating. Fake dating, I know. I knowww" he continued, his words dragged and his finger pointing at you before poking your nose with such innocent sweetness you were taken aback.

"Max" you tried to sound more assertive but found it hard to do so, your own intoxicated state making the situation lighter than what it actually was. Your heart racing was a symptom of it, one you wouldn't feel if sobriety was an option, you thought. Max's eyes wouldn't seem to stare at you differently were he sober as well, and the way he scanned your features, his gaze staying on your lips for longer than expected, wouldn't affect you in the slightest had you not drank some alcohol.

"I like it when you say my name" he looked up at you innocently, pleading, almost.

"Want me to say it again?" you asked, smiling. You complied with these demands because you knew they were childish whims of an intoxicated man, his happiness a priority in times like these. Upon his nod, you started saying his name, half teasingly, half reassuringly, the leaves rustling in the garden behind you.

"Max... Max!! Max Max-"

He shouldn't. It would complicate things, and he liked when they were simple, clean and organized. He knew he shouldn't even when his whole vision spun and his brain convinced him that he should do things he would never do otherwise. But every time he refrained from saying something he would stumble across all his words and trip and fall and his head would only hurt more, and it seemed as if he could only focus if he kept listening to you and talking to you and looking at you.

The lights shone behind you in a way that made it feel as though he was dreaming, like you were a mirage, too good to be true. Maybe his friends were right - you weren't actually real. He wanted to be sure, in that moment. That you were real and that he wanted you as much as he thought. And though he shouldn't, though it was a terrible idea, he couldn't help but lean over to kiss you.

He tasted like champagne - bubbly and slightly sweet, his movements sloppy given his state, yet you couldn't help but drink it all in. Part of you - a big part - reciprocated the kiss, felt his fingers on the side of your neck, pulling you messily towards him, and tried to steady him, guiding him gently with your own lips.

It was odd, how this felt so right yet the fake hand holding didn't. As Max kissed you, that thought entered his clouded mind - did it feel wrong because it was fake and this was real? Your skin felt so soft, so much softer now he could touch it freely and unapologetically.

"Fuck-" he started, pulling away, his head resting against the wall once again as he stared at you, noticing how it hasn't hit you yet; what you just did, how it affected everything. "I fucking love you" he shrugged as you fixed your hair, pausing with arms raised for a few seconds before smiling softly.

"You're drunk" you replied, looking at his own grin, the gleam in his eyes making him appear both innocent and guilty of so many things.

"I'm drunk and I fucking love you"

"Max..." you started, and he said your name back to you with such tenderness you couldn't believe his lips tasted of alcohol earlier and not something sweet.

"We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" you continued, waiting for the silence to swallow you both.

1K notes · View notes

nobrashfestivity · 4 months

Text

Everyone Hates Poetry 2024

Rules

Write a poem before Feb.5th and submit it to me with the submit feature or in an ask.

Poems should be less than 500 words

You can use your real name or your blog name but they can't be completely anonymous.

Poems will be published at 9pm on Wednesdays and then a link to each poem will be added to the bottom of this pinned post so people can read them all.

I can't stop anyone from reblogging their own poems and generally sharing art is a wonderful thing, but don't turn it into some kind of social media campaign. because people with a small number of followers would be at a disadvantage. This is supposed to be fun. Please do reblog this post and tag people if you think you know someone on tumblr that might be interested. Since the post will contain links to the submissions, your poem will not be lost in the shuffle.

If I receive less than 10 entries I'll cancel the contest and consider it a failed experiment.

Public voting will begin after the 5th.and account for 50% of the vote

A panel of judges will also vote but will not submit poems themselves, and their votes will make up the other 50% of the final tally.

.There will be small prizes for the winner and runner up.

This is my art blog and will remain so, as it always has been. I'm doing this because poets here don't get much chance to get their stuff read and I have a fair number of followers. It's just a little thing to do if you want. I'm not turning this into a poetry blog or a contest blog or anything else.

Poems don't need to be finished. Due to the one month time frame I would suspect these would be first drafts, but please write something new. I want to encourage people to do something now, however imperfect, rather than showing work that's already done.

Updates will follow. Thank you!

Rule clarifications

-Please dont send poems anonymously if at all possible. I am happy to include a name that doesn't identify your blog directly but it's impossible to refer to or contact people who submit poems anonymously. I can't have anonymous poems considered without at least a name for you and if you were to win a prize, you'd need a name and address to claim it. I don't so much care about the latter part, that's for you, this becomes very disorganized and hard to regulate with anonymous messages floating in.

-Please put the title of your poem above it. If it is below it, I have no way of distinguishing with certainty if it's a title or a last line.

One poem per person please.

if you do not wish to see the poetry contest entries just filter the tag "everyone hates poetry 2024"

Due to the very high volume of submissions I am blogging them more gradually as to give more attention to each one. The same tag, "everyone hates poetry 2024", that you can filter if you do not want to see these can be used to find the submissions. If you follow this tag you'll get them all.

Please note that I am now publishing these as asks, previously I had to retype to keep the formatting and there are simply too many entries

Submissions are now closed, I will be publishing submissions all week and then when all have been posted we will start the voting (stay tuned as to how and when)

#nobrashfestivity #everyone hates poetry #poetry #poetry contest #everyone hates poetry 2024

1K notes · View notes

fixyourwritinghabits · 10 days

Text

How to Tell If That Post of Advice Is AI Bullshit

Right, I wasn't going to write more on this, but every time I block an obvious AI-driven blog, five more clutter up the tags. So this is my current (April 2024) advice on how to spot AI posts passing themselves off as useful writing advice.

No Personality - Look up a long-running writing blog, you'll notice most people try to make their posts engaging and coming from a personal perspective. We do this because we're writers and, well, we want to convey a sense of ourselves to our readers. A lot of AI posts are straight-forward - no sense of an actual person writing them, no variation in tone or text.

No Examples - No attempts to show how pieces of advice would work in a story, or cite a work where you could see it in action. An AI post might tell you to describe a person by highlighting two or three features, and that's great, but it's hard to figure out how that works without an example.

Short, Unhelpful Definitions - A lot of what I've seen amount to two or three-sentence listicles. 'When you want to write foreshadowing, include a hint of what you want foreshadowed in an earlier chapter.' Cool beans, could've figured that out myself.

SEO/AI Prompt Language Included - I've seen way too many posts start with "this post is about..." or "now we will discuss..." or "in this post we will..." in every single blog. This language is meant to catch a search engine or is ChatGPT reframing the prompt question. It's not a natural way of writing a post for the average tumblr user.

Oddly Clinical Language - Right, I'm calling out that post that tried to give advice on writing gay characters that called us "homosexuals" the entire time. That's a generative machine trying to stay within certain parameters, not an actual person who knows that's not a word you'd use unless you were trying to be insulting or dunking on your own gay ass in the funniest way possible.

Too Perfect - Most generative AI does not make mistakes (this is how many a student gets caught trying to use it to cheat). You can find ways to make it sound more natural and have it make mistakes, but that takes time and effort, and neither of those are really a factor in these posts. They also tend to have really polished graphics and use the same format every time.

Maximized Tags (That Are Pointless) - Anyone who uses more than 10 one-word tags is a cop. Okay, fine, I'm joking, but there's a minimal amount of tags that are actually useful when promoting a post. More tags are not going to get a post noticed by the algorithm, there is no algorithm. Not everyone has to use their tags to make snarky comments, but if your tags look like a spambot, I'm gonna assume you're a spambot.

No Reblogs From The Rest of Writblr - I'm always finding new Writblr folks who have been around for awhile, but every real person I've seen reblogs posts from other people. We've all got other stuff to do, I'm writing this blog to help others and so are they, the whole point of tumblr is to pass along something you think is great.

While you'll probably see some variation in the future - as people get wise to obviously generated text, they'll try to make it look less generated - but overall, there's still going to be tells to when something is fake.

I don't have any real advice for what to do about this (other than block those blogs, which is what I do). Like most AI bullshit, I suspect most of these blogs are just another grift, attempting to build large follower counts to leverage or sell something to in the future. They may progress past these tattletale features, but I'm still going to block them when I see them. I don't see any value in writing advice compiled from the work of better writers who put the effort in when I can just go find those writers myself.

#writblr #AI Bullshit #The State of Things These Days

598 notes · View notes

thewinchestah · 3 months

Text

"Good things come for those who wait" - Alastor x reader fic

Pairing: Alastor x Fem!Reader

Tags: ,18+, Smut, NSFW, edging, BDSM, Alastor does what he wants, there's plot if you squint really hard, alastor in heat, breeding kink, Possesive! Alastor, Jealous!Alastor, Protective!Alastor, spanking,degradation kink, praise kink, Angst with a happy ending, fluff, I didn't proof read this, english isn't my first language, no beta we die like men here, etc etc etc

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Word Count: there's no point guys. I can't stop talking.

A/N: WOAH!! Hello everyone!! What the fuck?? I wasn't expecting my "debut fic" to blow up like that! Thank you so so much to everyone who took the time to read it and leave a comment! I'm truly flattered by your praise. So, I hope this sequel to "PREY" does it justice! (but it can also be read as a standalone). Let me know if you guys like it, and if you have anymore ideas/suggestions! I'm tagging everyone who asked me to, so if you want to be tagged on my next fics let me know! Without further due, here comes that mostrosity of a fic! Hope you like it <3! (UPDATE: PART 3 IS NOW UP!!)

Part I | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Taglist: @smallershorteranduncut @markster666 @jyoongim @stygianoir @pepperycookie @fraspent @aether-th3-enby

It all started, as many things do, with a joke and a simple misunderstanding. Dying and instantly going to hell is not easy. Being in hell and not understanding why the FUCK you are in hell is confusing, frustrating and sometimes drawright ridiculous. There’s no guidebook for the hellish afterlife, and more often than not you felt lost at sea, drowning. Until you found your questionable lifeline, the Radio Demon.

Somehow said demon clocked really early on that you were completely infatuated with him, but too scared to act on it. And oh, how he gave you enough reason to be infatuated, enough reason to be scared. Luring you into the most delicious trap, Alastor had claimed you as his. His to breed during the height of his heat, his to care for, his to inflict the most heavenly torture.

Being caught up in the middle of the living myth that was the Radio Demon was a dangerous thing, you had been warned over and over again. So of course that you had to almost fuck everything up in the silliest way possible.

The obnoxious TV set, also known as Vox, had just started another round of his futile attempts to win Alastor’s attention by airing the most absurd reality tv character assassination ever. You would put money on the fact that the obsessive flat screen was a deceased TLC producer. Usually, any of his pompous i-hate-alastor-so-so-much!!! fits would be met with enthusiasm around the Hotel. Everyone would cramp in front of the TV and make fun of the entire ordeal. Even Alastor would tag along and make a private edition of his radio show while he counter-narrated that nonsense. It became a fun bonding activity for everyone involved, it was a nice thing. But there’s a reason why you can’t have nice things.

Today the Hotel was mostly empty:, only you, Angel and a very on edge, sexually frustrated, irritated Alastor haunted its posh walls. Still, you and Angel carried on with the little tradition sitting side by side in front of the tv not knowing what to expect from today’s “My Strange Addiction - Alastor’s Version” episode. It was truly a laughable attempt of a character assassination, actors who could not act saying things like “Alastor isn’t even as bad as everyone says, his torture tactics are not that special either. My mom’s aunt was tortured by him and was going to work 10 hours later”, “i walked down the street today and alastor didn’t even try to kill me when he saw me crossing the street, he’s all talk” “i have video footage of the self-proclaimed cannibal eating a chocolate covered strawberry. He’s cannibalbaiting.”

“no self-respecting overlord would go out wearing those ridiculous out-of fashion clothes”.

Angel was having the time of his life leading the daily Vox roast session, the spider was funny and you couldn’t hold the laughs. The camera cut to a close-up of Vox, babbling on about technology and the anti-Radio Demon speech you knew by heart at this point. As if on cue, Alastor entered the room. But the pair of you remained oblivious to his presence.

“Toots, you totally should apply for this show! I mean it!. I’m sure Vox will buy literally anything you say. Anything! If you say Alastor likes to eat red nail polish cause it looks like blood he would believe it! You laughed at his words, what a ridiculous thing to say. You loved red nail polish, alastor drinking it because it looks like blood is absurd. “I mean, look at you!! Look at this face, these eyes!! This body!!!” Angel gave your thighs a playful slap. “If you say hell is actually cold using all that i would eat it right up. Vox will be too busy staring at your boobs to notice you dropping that even the oldest radio looks better than that fucking flat face”. The thought that you were the mind-numbing type of beautiful made you laugh. Sometimes you felt like your friends were being way too kind with the flattery about you. You were nothing special at all. It was nice of them to be kind to you, adapting to your new lifestyle was taking a visible tool, anyone could tell. Their efforts were honorable and sweet, but you just couldn’t let yourself believe what in your heart, you knew was a lie. A beautiful, comfortable lie, but still a lie. You weren’t much, you were just lucky. You started to laugh even harder, out of pure nervousness as your brain started to snowball into all the things you weren’t.

“ Seriously Angel, you have the strangest ideas ever!” you tried to sound normal, putting up a confident facade. That helped, a lot. You had picked that up during your days with Alastor.

Speaking of the devil, Alastor wasn’t amused by your little display. Standing on the corner of the room as you laughed, he made himself known by walking out of the room, in hurried steps. If it were anyone else, they wouldn’t think much of it. But you weren’t anyone else. You were Alastor’s.

And that’s why he was seething with rage. His rut always drove him, an already unpredictable man, to the brink of true, pure instinctual insanity. He had to grip his marvelous constructed self control painfully hard. Since your paths crossed, the most chaotic part of his existence seemed in control, your pretty little body always ready to take him, your eyes always holding his gaze in a maddening comfortable way, the way you would push your limits just for him.

Only for him.

And the worst part was your softness when it was all done. Alastor would fuck you rentless, for hours, making you take all the mess of his most animalistic desires without a second thought. Both of you would be spent, bathing in the afterglow, room smelling like sex, and you would ask him if he needed anything. Him, that just fucked you so hard so won’t walk straight for a week, that feasted on the blood of the love bites he inflicted, him that covered you in a painting of bruises.

How could he not want to just lock you inside his lavish room and give you all the rings of hell? to carve his name deep into your soul? to dote on you? to make him the only thing on your mind as he makes you his time and time again in the most sinful ways?

It was simple really, why he was shaking with anger: how you, who was his, was even thinking of being in the same vicinity of that scum of creation? LAUGHING AT THIS ABSURD CONCEPT. Vox thinking of you was already a crime punishable by painful death, but Vox looking at you was heresy, and the entirety of hell would pay for his transgressions.

As Alastor stormed off towards the Hotel’s large room corridors, he took several calming breaths. Losing control like this wouldn’t do anyone any favors. In the troubled waters of his mind, Alastor could only think of 3 things: you, fucking you and murdering someone.

So he didn’t even realize your hurried steps trying to catch up with his long strides.

“Hey sugartits! Don’t take too long doing whatever you need to do! there’s a woman going live after the break saying she saw Alastor eating an entire packet of PAPER TOWELS!!! HAHA! This shit is too good to be true!” you heard angel scream.

Adding insult to injury, nice.

Trying desperately to reach your demon lover gait, you could only think about how bad you had messed up. Alastor was your only true respite in hell. He was a blessing in a mist of the worst humankind could offer. He made you feel hope, more than making you feel alive, he made you feel glad you’re dead. The Radio Demon felt like coming home. You just wanted to make it up to him. You could not lose this, lose him. You were not sure you would survive it. And who knew where you went after dying in hell?

It doesn’t matter where you go after hell, it doesn’t matter at all if Alastor is not there. Your brain added to your inner monologue. True.

“Alastor! Wait” you shouted. He stops dead on his feet.

Finally, those long long legs of his do not make chasing after your love any easier.

“Alastor, I'm so so sorry. Angel gets way out of line sometimes and I was nervous” he is perfectly still, ears pinned back, listening. But doesn’t say anything back.

“Al I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean it like that, at all. Look, let’s try to do something to make your day better. I know how hard this season is on you, I know you feel like you are losing contr-

Uh oh.

oh shit.

You used the two forbidden words together. The temperature in the room drops, Alastor snaps towards you. You feel something gripping your throat mercilessly, as you fall to the ground. Looking at the other end of the corridor Alastor has you on a leash of his magic. Eyes burning red, forehead marked “x” he grips your chains hard, pushing you towards him.

“That was a brilliant speech, little doe. Truly marvelous! I’m sure your television debut will be quite the show you were planning!”

His antlers were growing, his demon form showing itself as he becomes taller and taller over you. All bared teeth and flashing red eyes. This is what everyone warned you about. Don’t get in the Radio Demon’s way, he is dangerous and insane. You will regret it.

Hot. your brain thinks. He pulls your leash even tighter, and you feel wetness pooling on your core.

“Do you have any idea what I was about to do before I heard you so selflessly offer your services to that pathetic excuse of a demon?” Dragging you by the magic chains, his towering frame comes down to meet you at eye level. You can’t say anything back, your brain short circuits and goes AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

“You know better than leaving me waiting for an answer at this point, pet” He grips your face using his sharp claws,the pressure threatening to break skin. “But you seem so hellbent on being a bad girl today, I shouldn’t expect your usually good girl’s behavior, should I?”

You are, once again nothing but a doe caught in the headlights of his eyes

“One should always know better than expecting their fantasies to be true”

His sclera goes black, only the tiny blazing red radio dials devouring you as he stares so deep into you, you feel feverish.

“But since we are already here. I. Will. Tell. You.” static picks up around the room and surrounds you both, the corridor is illuminated by an eerie green light. You start to kinda fear for your life, but Alastor has you completely hypnotized by the radio dials on his eyes. You shiver in anticipation.

“I was coming to ask you, to please, spare me a part of your day, away from you friends. Because the only thing on my mind has been you. Fucking you. Sinking my cock so deep into your tight, wet cunt it would mark your soul. Because you are the only one who can take me like this, who deserves being bred by me, who deserves every drop of my seed”

You feel the wetness on your panties grow until it runs down your thighs. There’s nothing right about this, but your dear Alastor showed you long ago how the concepts of right and wrong are meant to be skewed.

“But oh well, you seem to have your affections directed elsewhere…” he tsks at you using that delicious mocking tone. “But, you can’t blame a desperate man for trying” he goes from 100 to 0 really fast, his voice softens so much in a way that’s almost too heavy to hear after all that. Even with his demon form still very much present “Do you still want to make my day better, pet?”

you are at a loss of words, but you manage to nod desperately. The anticipation of what he is going to do to you makes you giddy.

He manhandles your leash until you are on your knees in front of him, tugging on the chains so you look up towards his crotch. He makes quick work of his pants, pulling his cock out. Hard, angry hot red coloured. Angry because of you, angry for you.

“Open wide, little one” and without much more warning, Alastor is fucking your face, hard and fast.

You position your arms behind your back as quickly as you can. You know how hard it is for him to be touched when his rut is peaking. The overwhelming need for relief mixing with his ever present desire for control. This is about him asserting his dominance over you, making sure you don’t ever forget where you belong: In the warmth of his burning gaze, under him, on your knees, while he merciless fucks your throat into compliance. He’s taking it out on you, and you fucking love it.

He’s not saying anything, only growling like he’s about to murder someone. He grabs fistfuls of your velvety hair, but never leaves the white knuckle grip on your chains. You can only resist the urge of playing with your pussy while he thrusts so deep you feel his monster cock. hitting the back of your throat. This is about him, and you want to give him this so badly your cunt is throbbing with desire

Tears wet your cheeks, your lips around his cock are the definition of renaissance art to Alastor. He’s almost over the edge now, the head of his cock twitches on top of your tongue as a warning of his approaching orgasm. It’s hard, it’s hot, it’s fast and it’s angry.

Alastor cums, you swallow as much as you can, but he takes his cock out and spills everywhere, coating your hair, your face. It’s so deliciously erotic Alastor can’t resist catching some of his cum and running his hands throughout your velvet locks, bathing you in his essence, marking you once more. There’s still a bit of cum on the tip of his claw, he feeds it to you, and your lips wrap around his fingers as you take as much of him you can take, gladly.

“Oh how beautiful you are when you ruin yourself like this for me, my little doe” You look up at him with adoration and a lustful gaze, his eyes hold an equally lustful gaze and… something more. Something that you are sure will drive you insane.

Alastor notices the pooling mess underneath your tights, he knows how desperate you are for relief, but he still wants to self indulge on you. He’s certain you still don’t understand the reality of what he is feeling. Swiftly he topples you down the corridor’s carpet and places himself between your legs, his crawled finger tearing your lacy panties away.

Then, he feasts on you like a starving man, and he might be, because you taste like the ambrosia of the gods and he can’t get enough of it. Of how you make a mess of yourself for him and there’s still something for him to take. You just taste so sweet, what a perfect meal your nectar makes. His wicked silver tongue polishes you, aided by your whispered sighs, his name moaned like a prayer on your lips. You are so so close, alastor sucks on your throbbing clit you are already seeing stars, all you need is a gentle push.

Grinning like a devil, Alastor looks up, tilts his head, gives you the most wicked-and-douchey look in existence. He gets up, your leash dissipating into the air and walks away in perfect composure, like nothing happened. Nothing at all.

“Well, I think that’s my cue!!” he says in his usually chirpy tone. You just stay there, flabbergasted. “I just remembered I still have a lot to do today! Work never stops when you maintain a facility like this in tip-top condition!” Already halfway across the corridor, Alastor’s head turns towards you “Still want to make my day good my dear? Be a doll and clean this mess up, will you?” you just stare at him, too fucking stunned to speak. You can’t believe it. That fucking devil. He’s about to make the turn towards the elevator and disappear when his eyes flash red as he warns you “Oh! and don’t you dare make yourself cum without my permission. If you cum before I say so, you won’t be cumming for a week. Choose wisely!Let’s see who loses control first Ha Ha! This will be fun!”

Alastor can be a psychopathic demon in heat, but before all that he still is a psychopathic demon who loves torture.

And he just left you all hot and bothered.

–

Alastor knew better than believing in such things as heaven or holiness. In fact, Alastor was positively sure nothing was sacred. The concept of sacredness was non-existent in his book.

But his skeptic mind danced on the edge of belief when he touched you. To be inside you felt heavenly, heavenly in a type of way that should not even be allowed in this place. The way your lush body burned underneath his wicked gaze was sacred.The way you always presented yourself to him, with selfless abandon was sacred. Somehow, someone allowed him, of all people, access to a soul he frankly didn’t understand what was doing in hell in the first place. He never was the better man. He was never giving that up.

In all of his nature, Alastor felt the most sinful pleasure in defiling your sacredness. He wanted nothing but to take the heavenly thing you were and taint it with his darkness.

He was well acquainted to torture and had no shame in inflicting the most delicious and depraved type of it on you ,until all of your holiness was irrevocably marked by him, down to the core of your soul. Of course Alastor didn’t buy your soul. He didn’t need to use those means to completely own you. He did it effortlessly, because you craved it. Because he craved it.

That’s why the thought of Vox even looking in your way was heretic, and not in a good way. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you to Vox. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing you. Period. You were his.

But adding that man into the equation just made everything more intolerable. The things he would do if he found out about you… Found out that not only you were his but how you could make someone feel. How precious and undeserving of anything less than good you were…

You were made to be cherished and protected. Protected by him.

In fact, it took all of the Radio Demon’s willpower to restrain from walking to the Vees building, and kill Vox for something he didn’t do. Because Alastor wouldn’t allow the thought to even cross his mind. All that, a messy display of his desperation and loss of control. Giving that prick the smug satisfaction of knowing somehow he got to him, in his last moments.

Damn, his rut truly did make him on edge.

Suppressing his murderous thoughts, Alastor focused his mind into something he as actually good at: torture. Yours specifically. He still wanted to punish you for making him feel like this. He still wanted to make you understand.

And he just thought of the sweetest way to do it.

After cleaning up the mess on the corridor, and yourself (you did it all on autopilot, still trying to understand what the FUCK happened) you still had to give Angel a satisfaction about why you didn’t come back. You must’ve looked really miserable cause Angel just hugged you really tight and ordered you to bed. When in reality all of your efforts were now focused on masking your humiliating arousal. So you find yourself lying in your bed, trying not to think anything Radio Demon related. You’re totally not thinking about the way he looked at you while he fucked you. The way his eyes would search yours in a crowded room, winking playfully at you. An inside joke. A promise.The way you both playfully banter at the dinner table over silly things. You are also totally not thinking about how he takes you, how you love to hear him saying “good girl” to you after you push your limits again, only for him. Not thinking at all about how his cock fills you so perfectly, you truly feel empty without it. Who’s thinking about what hides behind his eyes when he his voice goes all soft in the middle of a rough fucking? Ha ha!! Definitely not you.

You punch yourself with your pillow.

C’mon don’t think thoughts of Alastor now…

You are so fucked, and not in a sexy way. The worst part is that you want to endure it, you want to be good for him. Your pussy is aching to be touched, your mind begging you to have thoughts of Alastor while your pussy is being touched. But right now you would give everything in this world to hear him praise you again. You know how hard his rut is on him… He already carries a lot alone, the Hotel, the doomsday clock of extermination ticking closer and closer everyday. Plus the other things… You know there’s something more, something that haunts his nights, but it’s not your place to ask. Hell, you are too scared to ask. You just hope, you just pray that when it happens you are beside him. You don’t ever expect the Radio Demon to ever ask for help, or open up. Or seek comfort. Oh, he’s anything but comfortable. But you like to think that in time, he would feel comfortable enough around you he could let something slip, a tiny detail to add to your “The Mystery of the Radio Demon” clue board. Something that would let you show him he doesn’t need to pick himself apart, carry all these burdens alone.

Great, you are doing amazing at the “not thinking any Alastor thoughts” game.

You hug your pillow closer and look across you window as you start saying out loud a list of things you need to do around the Hotel. Maybe this will take your mind off the devil.

Tend to the Venus Fly traps of the gardens. (You could ask Nifty for the bugs)

Write the thank you letters to the new guests that agreed to help with hotel chores.

Tell charlie about your book club idea using cool flashcards

It’s your turn to organize “Theme nights”, maybe Alastor would enjoy a “great gatsby” theme, right?

Great, Alastor again. You sighed.

Suddenly a red note written with perfect penmanship flies next to your spot on the bed.

“My darling doe, I’m waiting for you in my chambers.

Don’t take your time, we have much to discuss.-

Yours, Alastor.

You take your time, though, to thank anyone who’s listening as you sprint towards Alastor’s lavish room. You feel dizzy, anticipation like butterflies in your stomach. You don’t have to knock more than once for him to let you in.

He’s on the edge of the bed, looking like his normal self (as normal as it gets for Alastor)

The taps the spot next to him on the the bed

“Come here, you darling thing!”

you don’t waste a second, and as quickly as you are sitting on his bed, you are sitting on lap. Holding you close, in a vice like grip with one of his arms, Alastor starts talking

“How was the rest of your day, my dear?” you open your mouth to start talking, you have so much to say to him. That you were a good girl, that you were ready to do anything to make up for laughing at Angel’s stupid idea of seducing Vox. You are ready to beg for your release. to ask how his day was. But you don’t get to utter a word.

Alastor quickly and swiftly maneuvers you: now your feet are dangling from the bed, your ass and legs sprawled out across his lap. A powerful arm locking you to him by the small of your back.

Holy fuck.

“Well my day was downright awful! You see I overheard my pretty pet laughing at the prospect of seducing one of my most infuriating enemies. I’m in the peak of my unforgiving rut ,and all I wanted was the shared pleasure of our bodies as I fuck the darling thing senseless!” he pinches the back of your thigh, hard. You blur out a soft, desperate sigh.

“Of course, the good girl she is, she went begging for my forgiveness. I didn’t fully give it, of course. That was a harsh offense, what my little doe did. But I did have my fill with her” You try to spea-

Alastor audibly shushes you.

“I did leave her all hot and bothered after spilling my cum all over her maddening little body, of course. I contenplated murdering the bastard demon so he wouldn’t get a chance of even knowing about her existence and what she does to me. But I still suffered with the hellish need of fucking her into oblivion, and pondered a lot about divine justice. So, if I had to suffer this entire day because of her offenses I think it’s only right for that darling doe to get her fill of suffering and punishment hmmmm?

You try to look back to his face, but you feel the familiar sensation of magic wrapping around your throat. The leash, you are so so fucked. You couldn’t be happier about it.

He tugs at the chain, so your skirt rides up and your ass is totally bare for him and your head is buried in one of his fluffy pillows. With a snap of his fingers your panties disintegrate.

You shiver at the thought of what’s happening next, a delicious sensation that flows across your back and ends up inside your cunt, beginning to turn into a wet mess. He’s gonna spank you like the bad girl you were. He’s not going to be gentle about it either. You can’t wait. It’s gonna hurt, it’s gonna sting, it will leave you bruised. It will be deliciously wicked, like all of Alastor’s punishments.

You feel another surge of magic, behind the powerful green glow something materializes.

Your horsegirl days back on earth don’t let you down. You recognise it instantly. On his previous free hand he’s holding a riding crop. A big, leather pointed riding crop.

He’s going to literally whip you into submission. You squirm inside his arm. You can’t fucking wait. You’ve made yourself come a few times after the thought of being literally tamed, broke by alastor.

You whimper. Alastor’s laugh fills the room.

“So this is how this is going to go, pet. I’m going to whip you lovely ass like the ungrateful slut you are and you are going to thank me for it after every crack of the whip. I’m gonna do this as many times as I see fit. Until your ass is as red as my hair. Until you understand what you did. By the time I’m done you will be begging to be punished more. Are we clear?

You can’t look back at him, but you can feel how his red irises make your skin burn. You like to imagine that his eyes did the thing where they soften for a heartbeat, if you blink you miss it. Waiting for your permission, even now. You are able to muffle a “yes, oh please Alastor, yes”.

“Lovely.”

crack.

He didn’t even gave you time to process. The whip lands hard on the back of your left thigh. You let out a scream.

“Well?” he asks impatiently as he waits for your “thank you”. Seeing the way the spot where the whip landed turn a lovely shade of scarlet isn’t helping him hold his resolve either.

You wanna do this right, you need this as much as he needs it.

“thank-”

crack. the whip lands on your right thigh, a little lower.

“tha-”

crack.crack.

He whips you even harder, cutting the wind as it lands twice on your left buttcheek. Only four cracks down and you are a whimpering mess. You wiggle instinctively on his lap, seeking some friction, some relief. It hurts so bad, but it feels so good. You don’t know if you can take more. You want it anyway. “thank you, thank you” you whimper. Tears wet your face, arousal wets your core adding to the mess from before he even started.

crack. crack.

He mirrors his movements to your right buttcheek. “thank yo- Holy fuck Alastor”

one more hit, now hitting both of your buttcheks.

“I’ve told you many times before pet, there’s nothing holy about what I do to you. I’m gonna break you and then breed you. I won’t give you a moment of respite. And maybe by the end, when your legs are shaking from holding that orgasm you have been desperately chasing since this afternoon, I will be merciful and let you find your release. And we will know who’s really losing control here”

How can he do this to you with only his voice? You are not sure you’ve ever been so aroused in your entire life. You’re so wet, you’re staining Alastor’s pants. As close as you will get to marking him.

There’s a draft coming from the forest of his room, it softly kisses your abused skin, making it sting. You want to see the state of your lower body so badly. The way you’re submitting to him right now, the most sweet form degradation possible. Your eyes are clouded with tears, that line between pain and pleasure being blurred in ways only someone like the Radio Demon could cross. He tugs on your leash, to attract your attention from the sinful, unholy sensations you are feeling so openly, back to him.

Alastor drags the leather point of the whip across your throbbing cunt, collecting the obscene amount of wetness there. “By the 7 rings of hell, what do you have here? Are you such a slut that you are creaming at being whipped into compliance? I could do this all night long. Your ass is already red with regret for your actions but I’m not sure you learned your lesson yet.”

crack. The whip this time lands on your juicy cunt. Your hips trash with the sensation, your demon lover’s name escaping your lips like a prayer.You forget to thank him this time, despite your best efforts.

“Are you so big of an ungrateful brat that you want this sinful punishment to continue? Not even bothering to thank me, in hopes it will end sooner. You know what you are. Nothing but a hungry greedy whore for the Radio Demon”

crack, crack. One hit on each cheek. “But I already knew that” and with that mocking tone Alastor lands a masterful final hit on both of your cheeks. He does have a way of proving his point.

You are fucking sobbing now. Tears coat your cheeks, now a colour so vibrant as the rich scarlet the covers your ass. Alastor knows everything that makes you tick. He knows how close you are to cumming. Cumming for only his masterfully inflicted punishment and his voice. Incoherent whimpers leave your lips “please please please” and soft “ohh and aaah, alastor”

He tugs on your leash again, he knows your body like the palm of his hand, and that you are probably entering the mind numbing phase of the pain and the pleasure. But he still wants your undivided attention. He has whipped you into submission, he still needs to fuck you into submission.

“And you even made the mess of yourself stain my pants! My god, you are pathetic. Delightfully pathetic”

Alastor gently runs his clawed hands across your ass, the sharp edges making you hiss. He looks in adoration at the masterpiece he inflicted on you. Your ass and thighs a shade of scarlet to rival his hair, the wetness between your thighs a heavenly invitation. Beautiful. Sinful. Sacred. He will never forget this, and he will make sure that you never forget it too.

“Now, now, we are done with this my little doe” his voice goes extra soft because you can’t see him with your face buried in a soft pillow. “you were so good for me, you always are”

The softness and sweetness of his praise makes you sob even harder. It’s maddening.

He gently maneuvers you further into the bed, making space for himself.

“But now I’m painfully hard, and I still need to bury myself inside that tight throbbing cunt of yours, so deep it will mark. your. soul.” static picks up around you, a delicious omen of what is about to happen.

Alastor positions himself behind you, immediately entering you and bottoming out.

His first thrusts are sharp and deep, as to make his promise of marking yourself from the inside real. He pulls your chains so your scarlet ass is presenting itself to him like the most sinful gift.

Alastor picks up that breakneck pace of fucking, common to him, specially during his rut. He fucks you like he hates you. As hard as he possibly can, to make you know that you are his and his only. That even thinking of someone else, even as a joke, will not be tolerated. You wanted all of him didn’t you? You’ve made that clear, with words, with actions, with the things your body endures for him. So he makes sure to give you that.

Moans drip from your lips in a crescendo, you are screaming now, you don’t know how long you will last. It feels so good. That delayed gratification drowning you in maddening pleasure.

“Who do you think is losing control here?” he asks after a painfully sharp thrust. “Me, or the mess of a slut underneath me? That is screaming my name loud enough for the entire pride ring to know how she loves being fucked like a common whore for the Radio Demon,hmm?”

One hand pulls your leash upwards, the other your hips. He’s even deeper now, you can feel him in your core.

You don’t reply to the question even though you want to, even though you know the answer.

“Again, since you like being bred like that so much you are not hearing me” he takes all of his cock out and enters you at once. “Who’s losing control here? Me, or my little plaything with the scarlet ass from being whipped into compliance like the pretty little brat she is?”

You don’t forget to answer him now, you need to cum, desperately. You withheld your building orgasm for an entire day, you wanted to be good for Alastor. You wanted to be able to take everything he gives you. The pleasure, the pain, the sinful, delicious depraved torture. “Me, I am!” you scream out.

Alastor’s pace is becoming erratic, you feel the shadows of his growing antlers cover you.

“Again” he tugs at your collars. Another sharp, deep thrust.

“Me, i’m losing control”

“And what are you?” his voice is filled with static now, he’s close too.

“Yours! I’m yours Alastor, yours to fuck, to break, to punish” you cry out in sweet pain and pleasure.

Another tug, Another painfully sharp thrust

“I’m only yours Alastor” you finish.

“Good. girl.” he spaces the words out between thrusts, knowing how you relish in them.

“You can come now”

Your orgasm comes crashing down. You grip the sheets like a maniac, your legs shaking so hard Alastor needs to hold them in place. You scream so loud you are sure they can hear you in heaven. You hope they can, so they know. So they know this man owns you. So they know you love him.

Alastor is not far behind, your cunt tightening around him like a vice. He fucks you specially hard and deep know, delayed gratification hitting all at once. He cums so hard inside you, he’s sure he finally marked your soul. The feeling of his cock twitching and spilling inside you, adding to the indescriptible sensation. You are completely over the edge now, you feel weightless, free falling.

You know Alastor will catch you.

“Ah! There she is” you open your eyes and feel a soft kiss on your cheek. You are lying on top of Alastor’s chest, he cuddles you gently, making lazy circles on your hipbone but still buried to the hilt inside you. He still plans to give you all of his cum, all he has during his rut,after all.

“woah, that was… amazing” you say after a while.

“Well, I did whip and fuck you to the brink of insanity my dear. And you came so beautifully for me, you passed out. You’re such a sight pet. I will never forget it.” you blush at his words. You feel so happy.

Alastor kisses your cheek again, and with a final thrust he leaves you with a obscenely wet noise. You are dripping with his cum, it’s running down your thighs, staining the sheets.

You whimper in complaint.

“Ah ,don’t be like that” he laughs, is a genuinely happy laugh. “There’s still plenty of where that came from, but I need my darling doe to rest first” he says. He’s lying you gently on the bed as he gets up. “Don’t leave” you whisper.

He’s out of the bed anyways, and seems to be on his way to do something. You don’t care, you want him back here, holding you. You don't want him to ever let you go.

“Al, i’m truly sorry about today. You know that, right?” You know that I love you, right? You want to say, but you are scared that confession is a little much for today. You see where he’s headed now. He opens the bathroom door.

“Don’t even think about it, my dear. It’s all water under the bridge” he says in his usual chirpy tone, louder than the noise of the bath running. “Now you just need to promise me that you will never even let the thought of that pathetic demon cross your mind, my love”

my love.

“And if he ever does, you will let me know. So I can fuck those wretched ideas out of your mind” Alastor is walking back to the bed now. He picks you up bridal style and carries you across the room. You can’t help the hiss that escape your lips as your irritated skin touches him. “I know, I know my dear. We will fix that right up. I can’t have my favourite doe hurting. We still have a long way to go until the end of my rut, dearest” you don’t reply, you are just happy. perfectly happy. You could hear Alastor’s voice for days without complaining. “But you did look so perfect with that scarlet ass on my lap. Crying from how much you love what I do to you. I hope you never forget that”

You both reach the bathtub, he drops you with all the care in the world inside the water.

“I’m so proud of you. I truly am” the water is warm. The soap smells so nice. He lit candles too. You give in to the soothing sensations. You might have tuned out for a bit, cause you hear alastor calling your name so softly… He says it again, slow, soft, gentle, pleading. As to catch your attention, he has something important to say. “You know how precious you are to me, don’t you my little doe?” “yes” you respond, trying to fight the tears that begin to spill down your face ‘

“Oh my darling girl, why are you crying? There’s nothing to cry about. You are here, safe with me. As you will always be, as is your place.”

“Alastor I-I-” your heart swells, you want to say something. You want to say everything you are feeling. How consuming, in the best way possible, your feelings are for him.

But Alastor is always 10 steps ahead.

“I know, I know darling” he kisses your hand “I feel it too.” he says. It feels like a confession, it sounds like a confession. The look on his eyes is the one of that mystery that hides there every time his voice in the midst of your passion.

When you,know you know. your mind reiterates.

“Let me help you dry those tears. Save them for another day” He holds your face and kiss your lips. “The only thing you need to worry about right now is resting and recovering that luscious body of yours, as well as your brilliant, witty mind”

He hands you a sparkly fancy pink soap, and gets up to find the softest sponge he has stored.

“Now, I hope you like the smell of these candles, cause I’m not letting you out of my sight for at least the next four days!”

Alastor continues to chat away sweet nothings as he helps you bathe. Maybe it will take a while for the Radio Demon to say those 4 words out loud. He has enough reason for that, inside that beautiful, complicated mind of his. His actions always speak louder than words, your relationship was proof of that.

Until then, you will always have sacred moments in crowded rooms, you will always have jokes that only the both of you understand. He will always keep sweeping you off your feet in the most deliciously wicked ways possible.

Right now, you have him by your side after everything that happened, you have his heart too. You are sure of that. So you don’t mind waiting for him.

Good things come for those who wait.

#atenção creuzebek vamos lá vai começar a baixaria #author is also in heat can you tell #METE COM FORÇA E COM TALENTO EU TO OFEGANTE E VC PERCEBENDO #alastor x reader #alastor #alastor x reader smut #the radio demon #the radio demon x you #hope uou guys like it!!#VEM DE CHICOTE ALGEMA CORDA DE ALPINISTA #baixaria

479 notes · View notes

lustkillers · 6 months

Note

okok hear me out: rough sex in a loud party where any character you want is pounding into reader, forcing them to be quiet until he cums all over her and forces her back into the party, putting her on display for everyone. just a thought, love you're writing !!

LOOSEN UP THEIR FROWN, MAKE 'EM FEEL ALIVE!

⊹₊ ⋆ summary. - you're only his.

┃ tags/warnings. ࿐ ❪ nsfw freak shit here! hard dom!euro, sub!reader unprotected sex, rough sex, impact play, public sex/exhibitionism?? , voyeurism?, slight asphyxiation, degradation, spit, jealous!euro, toxic (?) couple tbh, FACIALLLL!!! ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ pairing - euronymous x fem!reader ❪ not the actual euronymous, only rory’s portrayal. ❫

⊹₊ ⋆ note - IM BACKKK from my dreadful writers block!! i'm also bombarded with school work, i'm so sorry for being inactive on terms of writing!! thank u for the request & hopefully i did this request justice... i'm literally sick as shit and seeing stars!! as always, not proofread! requests are open!!

HOW did you end up here? Standing in the middle of a house party, your face covered in his cum. Others knew, some didn't. But you knew... You knew it all too well.

Øystein had been pissing you off recently, so you decided to take a night out on the town with your friends to blow off some steam. Plus, you knew Øystein would be busy and wouldn't bother you tonight, as he had other plans.

He'd always be deep into his music, making him insufferable sometimes. You wanted a night without his judgment, so you went to the house party, not telling him that you were leaving. 'It's not like he cares...' You thought.

The party was raging with people inside, strobe lights scattered along the house and the intense thumping of bass. You felt your body come alive with every beat, and soon you were dancing among everyone else.

Your friends had left you to talk to other guys, get drinks, and possibly fuck. That alone made you want to leave, but something about this party didn't allow you to. Everything around you was a blur, and other men had hands on your waist... But they weren't him.

Suddenly, you felt a new pair of hands around your waist. You looked back and saw Øystein standing there, his eyes smoldering with desire… But also anger and passion. He looked at you with an intensity that made your body tremble.

Your stomach bubbled with many emotions, and your head was like a wheel; spinning with what you should say to him at this moment.

“What are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay away from parties like this, but now here you are!” Øystein said incredulously.

You wanted to say something along the lines of how it wasn't his decision to make, but you couldn't take your eyes off him; he was still holding you close. Something in your head felt unscrewed, not responding well to his response. You should've been defending yourself... Not standing there with your eyes searching his.

“I-I…” You stuttered, unable to put together any sort of coherent response.

He only grabbed you, leading you away from the suffocating crowd you didn't even know was bothering you until this point. He kept a tight grip on you as he dragged you upstairs.

As soon as you reached the top, there was a hallway with 3 doors; 2 adjacent to each other, and one parallel to the 2 doors. He opened the door parallel to the 2, loud moans ringing through both of your ears, the sight of your friend riding some random guy she just met.

A yelp emits from your mouth, your hand instantly closing the door. A deep sigh leaves Øystein's mouth, a chuckle soon to follow.

"This is why I told you to stay away from parties like this," he said shaking his head as he released you from his ironclad grip. You were about to speak up again, but the words caught in your throat when he grabbed your face and inched closer, a smirk slowly making its way across his face.

The couple hastily moved away from each other, a stern look suddenly present in Øystein's face. He motioned you to come inside the room while they quickly ran out of it, leaving you two alone.

The atmosphere was tense as Øystein pointed his finger at you, the silence filling the room. He finally opened his mouth to speak. "You were about to do something stupid," He said accusingly, his intense gaze never leaving your face.

You gulped, suddenly intimidated by him. "I-I was just curious," you stuttered. You instantly regretted your words.

He clenched his jaw, looking at you with disdain before letting out a deep breath and relaxing his stance a bit.

"Curiosity is not always your friend," he tilted his head, his gaze still boring into yours as he grabbed your hands in his own. "I think… You’re just acting like a slut to get my attention."

You felt your heart racing as you stared back at him, unable to find words. Øystein smiled devilishly before swooping in for a kiss without warning, spinning you around and pushing you against the wall. He then kissed every inch of your body until his lips were back on yours. You could feel electricity coursing through both of your bodies and it felt amazing. You knew then that you were in way too deep.

His grip on you was tight, almost bruising your waist. As you both kissed, his body collided with yours, and soon you found yourself laid on the bed with him on top of you.

Your pussy pooled with wetness, his veiny, pale hands traveling to your core. He started to move his fingers inside you, pushing and pulling in a deep rhythm. His subtle and gentle movements were filling your body up with pleasure like nothing else before. With each thrust of his hand, you felt yourself coming closer and closer to the brink of orgasm.

Before you even came, his hands retracted from your core and his lips trailed down your neck. He worked his way to your nipples, pulling up your top, and teasing them with his tongue as he moved further down past the small of your back, kissing each inch of skin as if it were precious.

However the passion ended there. Øystein suddenly flipped you over on all fours, his hand colliding with your ass; a stinging sensation traveling through you.

A moan escaped your lips, as you felt empty without him inside. In order to fill that void, your fingers found its way to your clit, rubbing it as strained whimpers escaped your mouth.

He smacked your hand away, placing his hand in front of your mouth. "Spit." He demanded.

A pool of your saliva bubbled on his hand, as he retracted it and rubbed it on his aching cock.

And before you knew it, he was spearing into you. His thrusts hurried and intense, as if it were his last time, each increasing in pressure until he was shaking with the feeling of pure pleasure.

"S-Slow down, Øystein... Fuck!" You cried out, sobs bubbling out of your mouth, and as soon as you know it, tears spilled out from pleasure.

Your moans rung in his ears as he noticed the music downstairs died down a bit, but he didn't care. He was too focused on the blissful pleasure that your body gave him, as your muscles clenched onto his cock with each thrust, sending spasms of ecstasy through his body.

His hand grabbed a handful of your hair, roughly stuffing your face into the pillows, suppressing your moans.

"Be fucking quiet, whore." He seethed, as his thrusts quickened and the air filled with your muffled moans.

It was hard to breathe with your face in the pillows, and the fact that he kept smacking your ass didn't help much. You felt your insides warming up as he hit just the right spot, and it wasn't long before a wave of heat spread over your body.

Just before you knew it, you came on his hard cock, moaning into the pillow as your wet pussy clenched tightly onto his cock. Your fluids seeped down your thighs, as your body shook in recovering pleasure.

Øystein was about to fall apart, his thrusts going erratic. His hands grabbed your shoulders and he started pounding into you wildly. It wasn't long before he let out a deep guttural grunt, "Let me paint that pretty face of yours." He pulled your head out the pillows, whispering in your ear.

The searing pain of the grip on his hair flowed through you, but you were still at a high.

He made you drop to your knees, pumping his cock right in front of your face. You opened your mouth, closing your eyes and letting Øystein shoot his cum over your tongue and face.

It was then that you felt the last contractions of his orgasm, and Øystein finally released his grip from your hair. You stayed on your knees for a moment, taking in everything that just happened.

As you looked up to him with glazed eyes, his smile devilishly looking down upon you. "Let's go," His voice raspy.

You stood up, nodding, and your knees slightly went weak. "Let me just wipe my face–"

"No." Øystein's voice was stern. "Leave it." He said with a smirk.

As you both descended down the stairs, the party still going on as a few eyes stared at you. Silence was shared between them, while others raised an eyebrow.

Shit, some of them even had a hard-on.

Øystein didn't care though,

he wanted everyone to know you were his.

#rory culkin x reader #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #rory culkin x y/n #smut #euronymous x reader #euronymous smut #rory culkin lords of chaos #lords of chaos #going fucking insane

341 notes · View notes

eddiediaaz · 6 months

Note

hi lovely!! do you have any tips on making cool fun and sexy typography?

hey joanna!! this made me giggle haha, i'm not quiiiite sure how to answer that, but here are some tips i keep in my when i do typography, and some examples:

FONTS

don't be afraid to "shop" for fonts and try funky fonts you've never used/seen. i often try so many before settling. i almost always use at least 2 different font for gifsets, even 3 sometimes. i think a good font pairing can do a lot for a gif. it's usually something like:

serif + cursive/funky fonts (example)

sans serif + cursive/funky fonts (example)

serif + sans serif fonts (example)

two different cursive/funky fonts (example)

or even simply the same font but all caps + all lowercase (example)

in case you're unsure where too start or want inspiration, here's a great resource: usergif's font pairing guide and its fonts page

BLEND MODES & LAYER STYLES

i think playing around with different blend modes and layer styles will always elevate your typography game, in my opinion. it's usually a bit more dynamic than just an opaque color. tho this minimalist typography can also be really good.

when you double click on a text layer, you get all the layer style options, as well as the blend modes. a very popular layer style is setting the layer's blending option to difference, paired with a color and/or gradient overlay (often set to multiply/color dodge). a drop shadow is also important so the text is more easily readable. we often see a black soft drop shadow, but don't hesitate to be creative with it, for example a thick, hard line, colorful drop shadow.

i feel like this step often takes the most time for me because the possibilities are endless. definitely play around with layer styles, especially drop shadow, color overlay, gradient overlay, stroke. and also try different blending modes for these settings.

as for the layer's blend mode, also definitely play around with them. and keep in mind that the text's color will also give a different result, it doesn't have to be white + blend mode set to difference, even tho this is a classic that works well.

TEXT WRAPING & POSITION

a great feature on photoshop is definitely the text warping tool. to access it, right click on a text layer and go "warp text". from there you'll get a few different styles and setting sliders. my favorites are flag and wave (example). you can always go back to edit these settings once they're done by right clicking again. and you can even keyframe/animate these settings!

typography doesn't always have to be centered and straight, i often prefer it on a side and rotated a little. you can easily rotate typography by selecting the layer(s) and hitting ctrl + T. you can also play with the skew and pespective after hitting ctrl + T by right clicking the canvas and clicking on either. these will give different ways to move your text.

SIZING

i love playing around with different font sizes, it makes the typography more interesting in my opinion, and it's a way to emphasize some words.

so for that reason i usually put each word on a different layer so i can edit each word separately. sometimes i will also put each letter on a different layer, because it can be interesting to offset/rotate some letters sometimes (example) (another example).

i often pair a quite small serif or sans serif font with a much bigger funky font (example). and often that bigger font will also have different sized words (example). i play around a lot with this!

ADDED EFFECTS

there are some things than can be done to enhance typography:

adding a colorful rectangle block behind the text (example)

using text symbols such as quotation marks or backets (example)

using lines around the text (example) (another example)

these can definitely bring typography to a different level

MORE RESOURCES

great font website

usergif's typography tag

my fonts tag

this is all i can think of right now, i hope it helps :D if you have any question on a specific text effect let me know, i can definitely make a tutorial!

#alie replies #silversmists #typography #photoshop #*ps help #resource #completeresources #allresources #resourcemarket #usercats #userabs #userpjo

170 notes · View notes

blueparadis · 1 year

Text

HALF PAST TEN THIRTY ; SUNA RINTARŌ. < CWs > — gn-reader, fwb tropes, s*mut, mention of smoking ( wêêd ), b!ow job, | wc:0.6k |

[ ♬ ] i don't smoke by mitski.

I just realised a few days a month ago that i really really like him so have a drabble so that i can keep my sanity at bay. I'm actually in my ‘reading novels and writing corny blurbs’ phase. sobs i miss mai so very much. | tag index.

It is half past ten thirty. Suna is not supposed to be here, in your room. Actually, it is way too late for someone, for anyone to stay outside at this hour yet here he is, in his oversized sweatshirt and baggy trousers.

The only sound that was audible to you was the click of the lighter and then, a moment later, a heavy exhale followed. The dim light perforating through the curtains was enough to illuminate the room. Suna was standing at the edge of the bed, distracted, but when he felt your cold fingertips playing with the hem of his pants, his senses snapped at the back of his head.

"What're ya doing?", he whispered boldly followed by a chuckle as if he wasn't aware of it already. As you undid his pants there was no resistance from him rather he enjoyed another drag from the blunt he offered you a while ago, on the way home, but you said that you don't smoke.

You've said that to him many a times before, while sitting on rooftop, on a lonely alley, in his room and as such; too many places to keep in count.

"I told you. I don't smoke.", you responded as low as possible. His boxers hit the floor and the first thing Suna did was to cover your eyes with his free hand and kiss you, almost. His smokey breath travelled into your mouth with utmost perfection pushing you to think how many times he has done this before? You didn't cough rather inhaled it , your hands still rested on the bed to balance out his body pressure on you.

“Liar.”, he mumbled sucking his own lips.

“I didn't lie.”, your hands have already started to work on his cock now, moving up and down along his girth. His hands travelled to your cheeks, squeezing it. It's hard to look at him now.

The sensation of his lips on yours is still lingering, craving for more but you couldn't possibly put it in words. He would say that you're just being shy, might tease you for days but you didn't want to overdo it, the feeling of ‘first kiss’

Before another thought could cloud your mind you took his cock in your mouth that earned you a lasting groan. He was quick to discard his upper clothing and douse the half-burnt blut.

Suna was fast you'd say but impatient would be more appropriate. It's been a while since you went down on him and he missed it too. You could tell it, how he is not grabbing your jawline to fuck his cock into your mouth rather his hands are clamped around his waist.

As you keep sucking, slowly yet covering more of his length with every other sucks his mind wonders, how many times you've lied — how many times you have kept things from him, like this. . . avoiding him. . . telling half of the fact. . . “Fuck.” he rasped.

“Stop smiling like that”, he remarks spilling a little of his seed on the floor while you break into a chuckle. yeah, he hates it; he hates it when to cum in your mouth. He has never hated it before. why now?

“Sorry.”, you say and land on bed with thud licking his seed with the tip of your tongue off the lining of your lip.

what for? for keeping him in the dark, for not sharing all of you, for. . .

There is still fifteen minutes to eleven. And by the time he will be dropping you off to home, he will be done thinking of you, maybe.

—

@tokyometronetwork

474 notes · View notes

1863-project · 8 months

Note

For the anon Pokémon asks: which battle subway conductor is the cutest?

Okay, this may get long, so bear with me.

First, a little disclaimer: Ingo and Emmet both make me feel incredibly seen. I was born in 1989 and wasn't diagnosed with autism until 2009, and I never got to see characters like me. I'd see some who were similar to me, or some with things in common with me, but Ingo and Emmet feel like looking in a mirror to me, to the point that I don't go in the Submas tag because I've seen too many people perpetuating the ableism that got me bullied as an undiagnosed autistic kid. Every time an autistic or autistic-coded character is portrayed as "weird" or "off-putting" or "too intense" or "scary," it's repeating things that my bullies used to excuse their behavior towards me and essentially treat me and my autism as entertainment. Most people aren't doing this, of course, but since I'm in the process of working through a lot of that trauma, I choose not to take the chance of exposing myself to it because I'd rather heal instead of open old wounds again and again.

Anyway, with that said, I adore them both, but only one of them makes me act like a giddy teenager.

I have the most ridiculous fictional character crush on Emmet. It's unreal. Part of that is likely the fact that if he was real we'd actually be extremely compatible, but unfortunately for me, he is not, and so I can't take him on locomotive photo charter dates and kiss him on the City Hall looparound on the 6 Train. That aside, here's what I genuinely like about the goober.

He's deeply passionate about what he loves.

It's that passion that often gets people like him and me labeled as "too intense," but when he likes something, he really likes something. Battling is like air to him. When you befriend him in Masters EX, you find he'll actually talk your ear off about battling if you give him the opportunity. He vibrates with excitement when he sees strong trainers.

[Image description: Emmet and Ingo, two adult identical twin men with knife-shaped sideburns wearing exaggerated versions of railroad conductor uniforms, stare off to the left at people who are off-screen. Emmet, in a white uniform, is holding his hands at his sides but his hands are in an excited, almost 'grabby' position; Ingo, in a black uniform, also has his hands at his sides but his hands are balled into fists. Ingo's Excadrill, a Pokemon that looks like a mole combined with a tunneling machine, stands in front of him. End description.]

In this screenshot from Masters EX, Emmet and Ingo have just run into Steven Stone and Roark. Emmet is barely holding back, and you can tell by looking at his hands. He wants to battle now. It's delightful that he's in a franchise of video games where that passion is normalized and encouraged. (As long as he never visits Paldea, anyway. Nemona is proof of how well that would go.)

Battling makes Emmet genuinely so happy and excited and I love when people get that way about their hobbies. It's so nice to see passionate people. Emmet even says he's excited about it when you battle him in Black and White and beat him at the highest level possible:

"I am Emmet. I am a Subway Boss, but I lost against you again. But I feel good. Because it was very fun! You want to win, and I don't want to lose. That's real. When we clash in battles, I feel very excited!"

[Source]

He lives for this, so much that even losing a really intense, serious battle feels good. And it's a delight. But, of course...

[Image description: Emmet, described above, claps his hands together excitedly and says "Winning a serious, hard-fought battle is the best feeling in the world!" with a huge smile on his face. End description.]

...he, in his own words, likes winning "more than anything else."

He's verrrry direct in his communication...but also verrrry supportive.

Autistic folks are often told we're too blunt, and to neurotypicals, who are used to saying things more indirectly, we can come off as a bit...too direct to them, to say the least. Arguably the best example of Emmet doing this is in the PokeSpe manga, where he just says things without a filter.

[Image description: a manga panel in which Emmet bluntly tells trainer White, "Yes, we're studying you as an example of a trainer who gets overwhelmed and loses every single match." The next panel leads off with Ingo saying "That's not nice, Emmet..." End description.]

But that bluntness isn't intended maliciously, he just has no filter and says what's on his mind. In reality, he's delightfully supportive and friendly, and that honesty leads to the most wonderful exchanges with him:

[Image description: two screenshots of Emmet from Pokemon Masters EX, smiling softly. His dialogue reads, "Hi, Steph! Your smile is always the best. Perfect! Whenever I see you, I can't help but smile, too! I'll have to make sure my smile is just as good as yours!" End description.]

As a side note, this dialogue has been destroying me for over two years now, and every time I boot up the game and he says this I feel my face get warm. He's actually helped me stop being self-conscious about my smile.

He has a habit of listening in on things, even if he has no intention of gossiping or anything. He just likes knowing stuff.

It's a habit he seems to share with his brother, but Ingo is significantly less obvious and more apologetic about it. Emmet's just really funny about it.

[Image description: two manga panels and one screenshot from Masters EX. The first manga panel shows Emmet marching over to White and Bianca as they have a discussion, saying, "I'm overhearing an interesting discussion over here. It seems profound, so I'm going to stand nearby and listen in. Oh, don't let me distract you. Go on. Keep talking." The second panel shows Emmet cupping his ear with his hand and still attempting to listen in on the discussion from one subway car away, with Ingo standing behind him. The screenshot from Masters EX shows Ingo hiding his eyes with his hat and saying, "I apologize for eavesdropping, but we happened to overhear your conversation at the Pokemon Center" as Emmet stands beside him, hands on his hips and smiling with no shame. End description.]

He doesn't use the information maliciously, and a lot of the time he doesn't even use it at all. He just enjoys hearing these things and knowing all sorts of weird drama is going on elsewhere. It's like when you find out about drama in a fandom you're not in and you read the posts and eat popcorn. It's great.

He likes his work uniform because it helps his posture.

As a fellow "leans forward too much" autistic, this one really resonates with me and I love it.

[Image description: A screenshot of Emmet in Pokemon Masters EX. He's standing straight up and holding the brim of his hat with his hand. His dialogue reads, "Wearing it gets me motivated, of course! It also helps me stand up straight and tall!" End description.]

He stops scripting when he gets to know people better because he's able to trust them.

Notice how his dialogue in BW and BW2 is on the Battle Subway - "I'm Emmet. This is my job. I like doubles. This is why I like doubles. Here are the safety checks." He's scripting around people he's not familiar with, and it's the sort of thing that gets autistic people labeled as "robotic" by people who don't know it's a way to help us maintain some semblance of control over an unfamiliar situation. The preprepared dialogue is a coping method in an ableist world. But when you get to know him in Masters, the scripted dialogue shows up a lot less. He's able to talk genuinely and excitedly to you, because he knows you're safe to be around and you're not going to judge him for who he is. That hits me hard.

He has the most adorable goddamned laugh in the world and it kills me on the daily.

This is a lot more in line with my personal tastes, as everyone who knows me well knows, but that damn laugh makes me all fluttery inside and weak in the knees. And he does it a LOT.

This update to Masters EX, where the characters laugh if you tap on them on the upgrade screen, destroyed me, and multiple people were apparently waiting for me to find it and die because I'm really predictable. I may or may not regularly pull the screen up just to poke at him and hear this. It's...not fair.

This one is...also unfair. I won't elaborate in public on what I think when I hear it because it's embarrassing.

youtube

So, uh...yeah. I really, really like Emmet a lot. I'm really normal about Emmet. I promise.

#replies #Pokemon #Submas #this man literally makes me so giddy and ridiculous #it's so silly but I'm having a good time and he's helping me work through a lot of stuff on the side #I spent hours on this #I always spend hours on posts where I talk about Emmet

82 notes · View notes

liknws · 9 months

Text

[ 001 ] Brand Spankin' New.

⎯⎯ PAIRING: lee minho x reader/oc ⎯⎯ TAGS: enemies with serious tension, childhood friends to enemies, revenge eras, college au, angst, bad humor bc i'm not as funny as i think i am, misunderstandings, unrequited feelings ⎯⎯ RATING: 18+, mature ⎯⎯ WARNINGS: drug use (weed), excessive cursing, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, mentions of sex and sexual themes (non explicit) ⎯⎯ WORD COUNT: 4k (4.972)

⎯⎯ SUMMARY: karma (kar·ma) defined as "(in hinduism and buddhism) the sum of a person's actions in this and previous states of existence, viewed as deciding their fate in future existences". you've always been a big believer in karma and the universe, knowing that eventually all energy is returned. so when your life is ruined by someone you used to call your best friend, you wonder why karma is taking it's sweet time in retaliating against him. what hurts more is your university won't punish something based on hearsay and so it's up to you to find the proof that lee minho is an evil mastermind and get his ass removed from school for good.

[ masterlist ]

“Did you guys see her newest tweet?” There’s a voice off to the right but you’re not paying much attention. The smoke curls around you in a comforting way that has you leaning back on the beanbag and letting out a content groan. You know exactly what they’re talking about, you’re the one who posted the tweet after all. Not that they know that, no one knows that. Not even your best friends, the people that you’ve shared every embarrassing detail of your life with.

“How do you know the account is a woman?” One of those aforementioned best friends speaking up. Mae, the calm to your storm, the one you find yourself relying on more and more these last few weeks. She never left your side, even supported your idea to take that much needed leave of absence from school after he ruined your life.

But the new year is here, the fall semester officially starts in one week and it’s the first day of rush. The weather is cooling off from the blistering summer, the leaves are changing, and you decided to take their lead and change with them. No more wallowing, no more hiding in your apartment while everyone else has a life without you. Your break is done, you kept up your end of the deal with the dean to take your finals when it came time. You passed, thankfully, and that meant you could start your third year of university with a clean slate.

The discussion draws you back in, hearing the argument about who the mysterious twitter account holder could be. The voice, belonging to the boy Mae had invited, continues. “The way they hate him, it has to be an ex.” You want to snort but instead you just shift in the beanbag, wondering if you laid here long enough if it would just swallow you slowly like quicksand. “You had to admit, he’s dated some questionable people in the past. I wouldn’t put it past a few of them to do this.”

You remain silent, best to not say anything in case you come off a little too smug or a little too prideful of that last tweet. Really you’re not the one coming up with most of the tweets, people are sending so many messages to the anonymous twitter account that you’re having a hard time working through them all. Some are good ones, things you schedule to post through the day. Some messages, you can attest, are from some of his more unstable exes. Those you just delete when you get them, deciding not to entertain the possible storm that could create.

“Who’s dated questionable people?” A new voice, one familiar that raises the imaginary hackles on your back. Really if you were a cat you’d be puffed up and hissing at the newcomer, claws swiping at him to leave.

“Your best friend.” The words taste like venom dripping from your tongue as you open your eyes, settling them on Jisung with a sneer. He at least has the decency to shrink away from your glare. He looks startled, as if he wasn’t expecting you to be there at all. Maybe he’s terrified because of the vitriolic tone you used in addressing him. You don’t care, you don’t want him in your safe circle, sucking up the smoke that’s keeping you calm.

“You’re- I-” He stammers, rubbing the back of his neck while looking away from you. “I didn’t know you were going- that you’re here.” So he didn’t expect you to return after his mentioned best friend had broken you so deeply, left you with scars that lingered and barely healed. Some days they were fresh wounds, some days they were scabs that you couldn’t stop picking at. Today it’s a bright pink scar, tender and the slightest brush makes you wince in pain.

“Look like you’ve seen a ghost, Han Jisung.” You level him with your gaze again, watching with a satisfied smirk as he shrinks further away from you. You say his name like a curse, as if it’s the most horrific sounds your lips have shaped.

“Stop.” The singular word draws your look from Jisung to your best friend, catching her eyes and you calm down a little. She presses a hand to your thigh, fingers gripping into your thigh in warning. “Hi, Jisung. Are the other’s here?” She glances around, looking past him in search of those other six familiar faces. You wonder the same thing but she’s always been the softer of you two, the quiet breeze compared to your tempest winds.

“Yeah, yeah. They’re, um, around.” He looks like he wants to be anywhere but here. The others in the circle, the few people you were just talking to and passing the blunt around with have gone silent as they watched the exchange. They all know why you glare at the chipmunk cheeked boy, why you spit venom at him every time you open your mouth. It’s the worst kept secret on campus, how Lee Minho had all but sold out your body as a prank. You don’t like thinking about it but it’s hard not to be reminded when strangers stare at you in pity, or you’re reminded when his friends are around.

“Tell them I say hi,” you say to him, shifting to sit up a little in the beanbag. He takes a step back like he expects you to pounce on him, teeth bared and claws extended. Instead you just smile at him, tight lipped before reaching for the joint that’s passed your way. You turn attention back to your circle of people, clear that your words were meant as dismal. You almost feel bad for the dejected look in Jisung’s face as he walks away.

“Hey.” Mae’s grip on your thigh tightens just slightly, a gesture to grab your attention. She’s looking at you with too inquisitive eyes. “Do you want to go home?” Truthfully, yes, you do; leaving now means that he wins again and you refuse to give that satisfaction. No doubt Jisung has already run back to his group to tell them he saw you. Your suspicions are confirmed when two familiar faces poke around the corner. It reminds you of a cartoon, just the sight of two heads extended past the wall, one on top of the other.

When they spot you, the shorter of the two bolts out from behind the cover of the wall and all but runs to you. Your name is slurred a bit in greeting, his lanky arms wrapping around you before you can protest. You have just enough forethought to pass the joint to Mae before he’s on you.The awkwardness of the beanbag you’ve chosen for the night means he either can crouch to greet you but it wouldn’t be Felix if he did things the normal way. Instead he lays on top of you, face buried into your neck as he hugs you tightly. He might be Minho’s friend but he’s been your sunshine since you met last year.

So you allow his crushing hug. “Nice to see you too, Lix.” You’d hug him back if you could but he’s got your arms in the vice grip he’s calling a hug and they’re trapped at your sides. You resign to your fate, even letting out a soft laugh as he clings to you. You catch a little of what he’s mumbling into your neck, though you do catch how happy he is to see you and that he missed you while you were gone.

The second of the two walks over with his hands shoved into his pockets. You can tell by the way he’s holding back a smile he’s just as happy to see you but his affection is far less physical than Felix. You catch his eyes, giving the best wave you can while still trapped under your sunshine “Hyunjin, hey.” As much as you had wanted to hate them for their association with Minho, it was impossible and you were quick to forgive them for their unfortunate choice in friends. They at least respected you enough not to mention him around you and effectively let you carve out a small part of the dance department that wasn’t tainted by him.

“Ji said he saw you so Felix had to come find you.” Hyunjin offers as a greeting and explanation, reaching down to grab his best friend by the collar of his leather jacket and hoist him off you. “Are you coming back?” He’s never been one to beat around the bush with you, something you respect. “We’ve missed you around the department.”

You feel a warmth in your chest that’s been gone since you left last year. While the leave of absence had given you time to heal, it had also left an emptiness in you that you know was because you were missing such a huge piece of yourself. Dance had always been your safe place, always been your home whenever you needed it. The idea of leaving your apartment had put such a crippling fear into you that you thought you would never be able to return. It had taken months of hard work but you felt okay enough to return, to fall back into the warmth of a dance studio again.

“Mhm,” you offer as confirmation, nodding as well. Their smiles are infectious, eyes crinkling and lifting a dark cloud you hadn’t realized was lingering. In the most dignified way that you could, you stood from the beanbag. “I’ll see you guys later, I need some air.” You looked to Mae who rose with you but gestured at her to stay, you really only intended to slip out the front door for a quick breath of fresh air before coming back.

You part from the circle, patting both Hyunjin and Felix on the arm as you pass, before walking out the front door. It’s a lot more quiet outside on the front lawn. The party wasn’t a rager by any means, more of a too large gathering with slightly loud music and drinks to share. Tame in comparison to some parties you knew would be going on across campus. You had purposely avoided Greek Row, knowing those parties would be exactly that. You hadn’t counted that the people you were also looking to avoid wouldn’t be throwing their own party on the Row.

A handful of people are mingling outside, not one person paying attention to you as you take a seat on the steps. The concrete is chilly underneath you, coupled with the cooler night air and it sends a shiver through your body. The calm out here has done exactly what you wanted, cooled down your temper and brought your beating anxiety to a manageable level. Seeing Jisung had done more than you wanted to openly admit to yourself, knowing that behind the producer lurks the reason for your anxiety. You needed to flee before you caught eyes with the rest of the group.

You’re unsure how long you’ve been sitting out here, you’re only vaguely aware of people coming and going from their own breaks of the party. The cold metal of the railing pressed into your forehead is comfortable, eyes closing a bit as you relax into the iron banister. The music from the house raises in volume and then quiets again, your assumption being that when someone opens the door and closes it again. You assume you haven’t been out here long because Mae has not come to find you but you wonder if that’s wrong too as a jacket settles over your shoulders.

The smell is familiar and warm, woodsy and deep and full of memories that you can’t seem to bring to the surface no matter how hard you try. You know the smell, you can’t figure out why you do, but it brings a sort of comfort nonetheless that has you pulling the jacket tighter around your shoulders and burying your nose into the collar. The music is loud and then muffled once again and you’re left alone outside with your new jacket and your fuzzy thoughts.

Only when your mouth feels a little too dry and your ass has gone numb from sitting on the cold steps, you finally wander back into the party. Mae’s moved from the spot you left her in and you’ve got enough sense to text her to check on her. A quick exchange, making sure she’s okay. Confirmation from your roommate tells you that she’s alright and you don’t need to wait for her if you want to go home. A simple thumbs up emoji on the message and a thanks for the jacket are sent before closing your phone. You don’t see her confused reply, asking what jacket since she didn’t give you anything.

A red cup pulled from the stack and run under the tap for a drink of water is your destination. The slightly earthy taste from the water is a comfort, reminding you of warm weather back home and spending sweltering days in ponds and lakes to cool off.

Your arms slide through the sleeves of the jacket, settling into the warmth of its soft fabric. The sleeves extend just a little past your fingers, you realize. Mae must have grabbed it from her date, you think, raising the cuff to your nose to practically nuzzle into the hem. It’s a soft jacket and you don’t want to give it back and you wonder if you can convince her to let you keep it as a roommate tax for letting her invite a date to what was meant to be a girl’s night out. Not that you can really blame her, you guess. You’ve spent nearly every waking minute together and most nights cuddled in her bed instead of your own. The nights are the worst, that’s when the anxiety and the fears settle in like they’re meant to call your chest home.

Without your roommate to wait on, you don’t see the point in staying at the party much longer. The place is still as lively as it was before but your social battery is nearing zero quickly and the call of your bed is strong. You won’t admit that the sight of that group has ruined your night, the good mood you were clinging to so desperately has gone with it. Your phone is back in your hand, a quick text to the house chat to let them know you’re headed home and don’t worry about being quiet when they all arrive at their own times.

Lucy is the first to reply, sending a simple blue heart emoji. It makes you smile and you’re shoving your phone back into your pocket while using your other hand to pat down for the key to your apartment.

“Giving yourself a feel because no one else will?”

The voice makes your blood boil immediately, smiling slipping from your face as you turn to look at Minho. He leans against the island counter in the middle of the kitchen. Silently cursing your luck, you just roll your eyes and go to walk away but a tug on the hood of your jacket halts your steps. An extremely undignified sound escapes at the yank of the hood and you’re flailing backwards for a second until a hand presses to the middle of your back to halt your fall.

“Falling for me?” He grins at you when you turn to face him.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” you snap at him while shoving his hand off you roughly. You should have guessed Minho would show up once Jisung had spotted you, you should have made your escape then and never come back into the house. Now you’re living with the consequence of your decision to stay instead of just running then, all because you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that even the idea of him sends you in the opposite direction.

His hands come up and make a gesture intended to placate the anger thrown his way. “Sorry.” Somehow you doubt his apology given that it’s coupled with that stupid, ugly smirk of his. “Heard you were back.” There’s a slightly awkward pause when you choose not to reply, arms crossing over your chest. A facial expression meant to tell him to go on or shut up settles over your face. “Can’t wait to see your introduction performance this year. Break a leg.” You choose to believe he’s mocking you, in no way do you trust his words to be sincere at all. It’s Lee Minho, he doesn’t know how to be sincere.

Eyes narrow as your stare levels on him, mouth opening to say something nasty in retort. The words die in your throat when a gentle hand clamps over your lips and pulls you backwards by your wrist. You watch as Minho is swallowed by the crowd as you’re dragged out of the kitchen and back into the cool air. Outside smells fresh and you wonder if there might be a storm tonight. Part of you hopes there might be, as a way to wash away everything tonight.

“Go home.” The words are barked at you. Oh right, someone dragged you here. Yanking your arm from their grip, rounding to look at them with the insult that was primed for Minho now ready to be flung toward your captor. His glare makes you stop, shrinking back just a little before remembering you’re not afraid of Christopher Bahng.

“I don’t remember you being in charge of my life.” Shoulders square, taking a step to stand toe to toe with him. Damn, did he get wider? You don’t remember him being quite so filled out. “And the bastard approached me first.” You note how his jaw twitches as he clenches his teeth when you argue with him, when you step closer and won’t back down from him. There’s that stupid voice in the back of your head to swing, that you could take him easily.

“Be the bigger person and go home, Cherry.” His voice is much softer but the look on his face doesn’t change. Your lips purse however at the nickname, sucking on your teeth in annoyance of his casual use of that name. He was the one who came up with it after all, him and Minho had adopted that name for you when you were much younger. A way to tease you for always wanting cherry flavored everything- popsicles to hard candies and everything in between. The name tugs at your heart just a little. Traitorous organ.

“Why do I have to be the bigger person?” Your refusal to back down doesn’t seem to bring a surprise, in fact he seems to have expected it. Once again he grabs you with that large hand, wrapping around your bicep and dragging you away from the house into the street.

“Still live at the same place? I’ll walk you home.”

“I don’t need a fucking escort, Chris.” You shrug his hold off. “Touch me again and I’ll break your hand. Make it hard to perform your live introduction piece with a shattered hand I bet.” There was once a time these threats would never have passed your lips in his direction, never at him. Only ever in his defense, only ever to protect those you cared about. Once upon a time, in a galaxy far far away. Some bullshit like that.

“I’ll make sure Mae gets home safe but you need to go, okay? Just- please.” He almost seems.. desperate? You two are standing in the dark of the street, the street lights too spaced out to illuminate your faces. You can only assume his tone, unable to see the look on his face. If it was light you would see that his eyes are soft, pleading with you to just once listen to him. To take his warning and to go home.

“Awa’ an bile yer heid,” you mutter as you turn away from him and start walking to the bus in order to get back to your apartment. His concern leaves you lost for words, lost for a better retort so you just drop the first dismal you can come up with.

“Speak fucking English!” Chan shouts after you, laughing a bit. You don’t risk looking back, knowing you’d find him watching you with that smile. That smile and those stupidly adorable dimples of his. You raise a hand, sending him a single finger salute without looking back at him. Now that you’re truly alone out here, it feels colder as you walk to the bus stop. Pulling the jacket tighter around your middle, pulling the sleeves down further to hide your fingers from the chilled wind.

Just as you near the bus stop the first raindrop of the autumn season hits your cheek.

・❥・

The morning is crisp after last night’s storm but the clouds have parted for the time. By the time you’re holding your second cup of coffee that morning, your other roommates have joined you out on the back patio in varying degrees of wakefulness. Lucy grumbles something and pulls the mug from your hands, much to your protest, and curls back in her lawnchair with your stolen mug.

“You came home early last night.” She breaks the settled silence, looking over at you.

“Aye, I was wanting to go to bed so my best friend could steal my coffee in the morning.” You’re attempting to reach for your coffee but she bounds out of the chair far faster than someone half awake should be able to. “Chris basically kicked me out.”

“Wait, kicked you out? I thought you weren’t going to Greek parties?” Elsie turns from where she was smoking and smushes the half smoked cigarette under her boot. “You know, to avoid him and his satanic best friend.”

“We didn’t go to the Row.” Mae comes to defense quickly, poking her head up from your lap, eyes opening for the first time since settling in on top of you. “They were there, not our fault. Jisung saw us first and then ran away to spread the news as quickly as he could.”

“That tiny chipmunk bastard can’t keep a single thing to himself, can he?” Elsie rolls her eyes, dropping into Lucy’s now abandoned chair. “Has to play Minho’s ever loyal bitch- ow.” Lucy’s fist remains on top of Elsie’s head where she’d knocked her knuckles into her sister’s head in warning. “Sorry. Loyal pet- fucking ow.” Elsie reaches up to swat at the other’s hand.

“Basically Minho was being Minho, trying to start something and Chris came to the rescue as always. He dragged me out of the house and told me to go home. Basically ordered me, the fucking bastard.”

“I love when you get angry and your accent is so thick I can barely understand you. Really love the mental workout this morning.” Mae loves to tease the three of you for your accents, according to her they make you almost unable to be understood when speaking English around the house. She often jokes that learning to speak Scots is now her third language.

“Lap privileges revoked.” You shift so her head is no longer in your lap, using the opportunity to stand as well. “I need to head to the studio anyway, finish working on this routine for the introductory performance next week.”

“Lu already packed you lunch. It’s in the fridge and your favorite water bottle is in the freezer to take with you too.” Elsie is quick to inform you with a grin. Lucy beams from where she’s sitting, eyes still closed as she drinks (your) her coffee.

“I’ll come with I need to finish mine,” Mae says between struggling yawns before heading to your shared room to get ready. When you tell her you’ll meet her outside she sends you a thumbs up over her head in acknowledgement.

・❥・

“So whose jacket did you take home last night? I’ve never seen that one.” That same jacket that is thrown over one of the chairs in the corner with your bag. Your head lifts to follow her accusatory finger before dropping back down, the dull thud of your head hitting hardwood sounding a lot louder in the empty studio space than reality.

“I thought you gave it to me last night. When I went out to get air.”

“Nope.” She pops the ‘p’ on the word. “Did you just steal a jacket?”

“Yah! I don’t just steal things. It was given to me, thank you very much.”

A contemplative hum through closed lips but she doesn’t say anything more. You can almost see the cogs turning in her mind and you want to ask what she’s thinking but the subject is changed quickly.

“How are you feeling about the dance?” She watches you in the ceiling to floor mirrors before turning to actually face you. Your head rolls to the side, looking at her now instead of staring up at the ceiling.

“Nervous. Director Yun gave me some really great advice and feedback after looking at my taped final. I don’t know, I’m really outside of my comfort zone here- but that’s the whole point right? I’m not here to perfect what I already know, I want to learn where I’m weak. How else can I be a big time choreographer if all I can do is a pirouette and a chassé.”

“You’re not doing ballet this year?” A new voice chimes into the conversation and you swear your eyes might just roll hard enough to fall out of your head. It would be far more preferable than this conversation. “So the old dog does know more than one trick.”

“We’re the same fucking age, Minho.” You're propped up on your elbows now, eyes narrowed as he stands in the doorway. He’s not alone of course, you note. He’s never alone. You wonder if he’s still holding the fear of being alone, that at the end of everything he’ll just be as lonely as he was before.

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“And I’m not going to.” Moving to sit up, you reach for the discarded canvas pirouette slips. “Leave so I can practice.”

“No.” You don’t even need to look at him to know that stupid smirk is there.

“No? The fuck do you mean no?” He ignores your question and walks in, Chan following behind. You watch the both of them with hands on hips before glancing back at Mae. The confusion and fury is written all over your face but the two newcomers are either choosing to ignore it or just don’t see it. You’d bet your life savings that it’s the former.

“You’re not the only person needing to practice for the introduction performance.” As if that is meant to explain why he’s trying to kick you out of the room you’ve been using. His dance bag drops on top of yours. “I’ll help you and then you can leave so I can use the room.”

“I don’t need your help.” You hate how it comes out more like a question. Stomping over, you grab his bag and shove it back at him. “The fuck do you have in there? Bricks? The fuck it’s so heavy for.” You attempt to shove him and his bag out the door but the canvas on your feet means you just end up sliding a little. Real dignified.

“You said you weren’t doing ballet this year for your dance. Seriously, let me help.” Wow, he almost sounds genuine. Which only makes you far more suspicious. Eyes narrow as he watches you, standing in silence that’s too heavy and too tense. The other two in the room don’t say anything, afraid of leaving with bite marks should they get between the two fighting cats.

“Fine,” you snap, dropping his bag and watching with pride as he fumbles it a little as he wasn’t really holding it. You toss a look to Mae that says more than you could voice right now. Surprisingly she’s already grabbed a couple chairs off the stack, presumably with Chan’s help, and sitting shoulder to shoulder with him. A cheerful thumbs up from her settles the butterflies you didn’t notice had taken up residence in your gut.

Minho is at your side in a beat, his stuff placed back on top of yours. A very are-you-for-real? look in his direction that he just gives you a smile, bunny teeth and all. Mae’s been in charge of the music and you give her a look through the mirror to start it again. On the count you step out into your first move and get lost again in the feeling of your body moving to the music. All you see is yourself in the mirror, critical of every single twitch of muscle and wrinkle of skin. You catch Minho’s eyes in the mirror and you can’t look away.

The intensity in his eyes is captivating, watching every small step and maneuver you put your body through. You’ve seen that look on his face before, years ago, when he would watch you practice your ballet routines or when he was helping with taekwondo. It’s somehow comforting to see him tracking your hands, your feet, watching how you throw your body through the air as if you’re made of a feather instead of a human body.

You can’t take your eyes off him watching you. His eyes meet yours in the mirror. All you can see is him. All he can pay attention to is you.

What you two don’t see is Chan and Mae shaking hands over a friendly bet and sharing knowing smiles.

taglist! comment or fill out the form to be added!

@pearbunny, @smhlino, @5stxrstay, @borahae-reads, @bettybeako, @ana-marais98, @katsukis1wife, @kpopsstuffs, @chaotic-world-of-the-j, @pinkskzs, @ylixbok, @eternitywaveshello

#minho x y/n #minho x reader #lee minho x reader #minho x you #lee minho x y/n #lee minho x you #lee know angst #lee know x y/n #lee know imagines #lee know x you #lee know x reader #lee know x oc #skz x reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #* karma.

85 notes · View notes

sciderman · 2 months

Note

How do you feel about different animated Peters? Do you have a favorite out of them?

hooh man, i know i say that i've consumed every little bit of spider-man media ever but it's really not true actually, and i think the thought of trying to watch every single animated version of peter parker kind of makes my brain explode. there are so many. i didn't actually grow up on spider-man cartoons, i only really got into spider-man comics in my late teens so my point-of-reference for peter parker will kind of always be the 616 comics, first-and-foremost.

i did watch a bit of ultimate spider-man as it was airing and i probably am one of the very few people on the planet who's kind of oddly soft on it! i have complicated feelings about ultimate spider-man. i feel about it the same kind of way that i feel about way's deadpool run. that it's an entirely annoying depiction of the character that is full to the brim with irritating jokes that don't land and package up the character to be a nutszo joke-a-minute lols random haha type deal but - i see oddly sincere and sympathetic and self-aware moments in there that make me inexplicably fond of that particular portrayal.

i don't know - i actually really love it when peter's portrayed as an actual weirdo. not the uptight square-boy you usually see, or this quirky boy-scout who's just kind of bland and cute and nerdy - but a peter parker that is actually unapologetically annoying. like you can't stand to be with him. i kind of love to see it. i don't know, i want him to be annoying. i think he should be annoying. and i love that he's fucking insane. like, objectively. he's not a sane man. he's adhd incarnate. and he's stupid. he has heroic moments, yeah, but he's also stupid and a jerk. i don't know. i'm probably giving it way too much credit, but compared to what came after (disney xd's spider-man (2017), looking at you) it's fun and kind of a very weird departure to your usual spider-man fare. deadpool appears in this show for one singular episode also so naturally thta is enough to make my brain go brrr.

(i've actually been really wanting to write a fic set in this universe. it's a universe i'm kind of interested in exploring, actually. been rotating it in my mind for a really, really long time. i'm almost ashamed to admit it, but every version of wade wilson fires up my brain, and i'm really, really interested in fleshing out this strange, i-was-a-child-soldier-turned-teenage-mercenary wade wilson. sorry. off-topic now. spider-man. we're meant to be talking about spider-man.)

disney xd's spider-man (2017) sorry you are so ugly and so boring. she doesn't exist to me. i hate that stupid nerdy off-brand tom holland ass twink with the green eyes. hate her. she is so boring. and her voice is even worse than drake bell (how could that be possible)

60's spider-man fucks. binged it so hard during my college days because it put me into the flow-state while i was working on my animation projects. i love that square boy. i love how macho he sounds when he's in the suit. i love his stupid fucking spider with the six legs. i love that they didn't have the budget for the extra two legs. i love him. he got me through college. almost tempted to do a stream of 60s spider-man so you all can enjoy it with me. it's a treasure. and thank you, 60s spider-man, for all the reaction images.

spectacular spider-man is very beloved, and i NEAARLY watched it all the way through, but – i don't know, i kind of just... don't like that peter parker very much. i couldn't tell you why. he's just a little boring to me. maybe it's the same criticism people slam onto andrew garfield's spider-man, the "he's too cool" argument. he's just not cringefail enough. he's kind of a bit boring. and his stupid SHIRT TAG that is NEVER TUCKED IN makes me FROTH at the MOUTH. i didn't wind up finishing the series because the love-triangle stuff just got way too exhausting for me. usually i eat up the peter parker drama but this particular case it really is a "why on earth is everyone in love with him. he's so boring." kind of situation. sure, it's a universal constant, but in this series it really is true. i wouldn't waste my time with him. sorry. mid. 5/10 peter parker portrayal. but the art and animation and theme song fuck.

i don't think i've watched enough of the other series to talk about them - which i feel kind of embarrassed about. i wanted to watch the animated series (1994) but just - never got around to it. i just prefer the comic-book format over animation, funnily. the irony, of me being an animator by trade, but preferring the medium of comic books. but like - i don't know. i prefer books over movies too. i just like doing more brain-work. it's why i like to write and draw more than i like to watch things. i don't like passive consumption. i want to put my brain to work. so - soooo, when it comes to watching things, i'm kind of terrible at it.

i think i should do a massive research session where i watch every spider-man series (or at least as much of them as my brain is willing to) - so i can do a comprehensive ranking of all peter parkers. if i have the time for that sort of thing (i don't.)

one day, maybe, one day. it could make a very fun video essay. i'd love to make a video essay, one day.

#sci speaks #sci. make a video essay. it could be fun. you make videos for a living. make one for yourself.#sci talks animation

24 notes · View notes

angelltheninth · 1 year

Text

Arcane Characters Being Your Co-Workers

Pairing: Jinx, Vi, Caitlyn, Ekko, Vander, Silco, Sevika, Viktor, Jayce, Mel x Reader

Tags: fluff, developing relationship, co-workers, flirting, teasing, eating together, cuddles, kissing

A/N: I really hope we hear some Arcane news soon cause I am really, really itching to see these characters again.

Jinx almost never leaves you alone while you're working. She likes poking at you, taking your tools away and then kissing you, both on the cheek and on the lips.

The only time she's calm is when she herself is working away on her gadgets. Even then there's always music in the background, her humming and small sounds of sparks and buzzing. She can sometimes stay in her lab very late but that's why she has a comfy couch there to cuddle on.

"If ya want this back sugar you're gonna have ta give me some sugar. Oh come on, I know ya can do better then that, lay one on me. Or maybe ya'd rather stop working for a bit and move this to the couch? Just to warm ya we're gonna have to pull extra hours."

Vi finds it a bit hard to focus on work at first. He's pretty restless when she works so she needs to keep moving constantly. If she doesn't then she'll walk right over to you and start kissing your neck, that's more fun.

Can stay up longer if she needs to, she always likes walking you home, its one of her favorite things about the two of you working together. If you're both really tired you'll let her sleep over at your place, or she's just saying that as an excuse. After all you're both going to the same place tomorrow and she always waits for you.

"Yeah, I am bored, aren't you? Why do this paperwork when we could be out there putting the hurt on the bad guys. Come on sweet stuff, I know you're hungry for some action too. Or is it... a different kind of action. If you lock that door we could... ouch! Alright, sheesh, I'm joking! Or am I?"

Caitlyn is fully focused on her work, there's very little that can break her concentration and drive once she gets started. She can sometimes get too into her work, almost forgetting you're there.

Knows she should do better but she just can't help herself, she would rather get the work out of the way as fast as possible and then spend the rest of the day with you. She trusts you to tell her when she's going overboard as she has gotten herself sick before due to working too much.

"Just a bit more and I'm done darling. I have a surprise for us tonight, so be patient. Looking at me like that won't get me to talk, you should know this by now. A trade? What kind of trade? Just one kiss? Oh, darling, my secrets are worth much more then that."

Ekko manages his work time really well, and in turn yours. He always makes sure you both have a lot of breaks and enough time to properly eat your lunches and of course some time away for kissing.

Might get a bit distracting working with him when he's covered in grime and oil but he wants to keep you focused on the work. At least for now, you can have plenty of fun later. Loves to cuddle by the window and observe the on goings in the hideout to take his mind off work.

"Break time Firefly! You're gonna work yourself into an early grave if you keep this up. Oh yeah? And if I say you need to stop? I'm not afraid to tear you away from the desk you know. If I can catch you? Hah, doesn't that defeat the point? H-hey, don't just kiss me and run!"

Vander wakes up early, earlier then anyone and open the Last Drop for business. Everyone already knows it opens early so its a rush from early hours of the morning all the way into the night.

Flirty when you're really close to him, leaning over the bar or telling him what drinks need to be made. In general though he likes to keep things professional, as much as he can with his friends teasing him about paying you in many different ways.

"Pay them no mind darlin' they're just being jealous of us. To tell you the truth I don't know which one of us. Don't worry, we can close up early and then I'll take you out to dinner, no kids this time, just you and me. Yeah I mean it this time! I do! They're not gonna follow us this time!"

Silco has a lot of work to do day in and day out so having someone working together with him takes a real load off his shoulders. Not to metion that its a lot more fun to have a pretty face in the office, despite the distractions it might cause.

Pulls you by the wrist and kisses your cheek when you do well or bring him coffee. It took a while for him to get used to having someone to actually work with on equal footing but he can't deny how nice its been too. He wouldn't trade you being here for the world.

"Thank you for the warm coffee darling, it really hits the spot. Did you take some for yourself? You can have a sip of mine then. Oh! Hold on, you've got a little- Hahaha, what's wrong? I thought you liked my fingers."

Sevika hated having you dragging along at first. She works best when she's on her own, with no one weighing her down. She wasn't sure she could trust you to watch her back at first but after seeing you punch out a few people she offered to buy you a drink.

It kind of went from there, she started bringing you along for more jobs and putting more trust in you. Kissed you on impulse when she was out with you and luckily for her you kissed back, otherwise the work dynamic would have gotten real messed up, now its just gonna be more fun.

"Care to make a bet with me sweet thing? Let's see who can take out more of these losers today. You win, you get a kiss from me. I win and I get a kiss from you. Sounds like a good deal to right? Ugh, if you get flustered that easily you're gonna end up losing."

Viktor gets even more serious then usual when he's working. Luckily the two of you are in perfect sync and manage to get things done in a timely manner, which then lets you leave a little bit early.

In the past Viktor was very well known for spending nights at the lab but lately, since getting into a relationship with you, he's developed a healthier working schedule. Loves it when he's looking at the board and walk up behind him and casually hug him around his shoulders. He leans closer so that you can kiss him and then goes back to thinking.

"Be done soon darling, then we can go home. We can pick up some food on the way since we both skipped lunch today. Maybe we can take turns making homemade meals? Sure, we can cook together, I find that I work much better with you by my side anyway."

Jayce sometimes teases you while at work but most of the time he does keep his focus. There have been occasions where he pulls you in his lap saying it helps his concentration but you really doubt that because it always seems to do the exact opposite.

Loves eating lunch with you and taking little walks as breaks and fresh air. He started getting desk neat instead of notes and books being scattered around everywhere to make it easier for the two of you to coordinate with each other. Otherwise his work place can get quite messy which you have teased him about before.

"Made some food for us today babe. Almost burned it but this time I was watching it closely. I also made sure that the notes I took last night are... well... readable. Sorry about just unloading on you like that last time. Wha- Why are you laughing? Unloading? What's so funn- Oh. Uhm. Not like that, I'm not sorry for that."

Mel is very strict when it comes to work. Work time is always just work time, nothing else. There are certainly some looks passing between you two but it doesn't go much further then that while you're both on the clock.

During break though, she can't get enough of you. Kissing, touching you, keeping you close, her arm wrapped around yours, whispering into your ear, making you shiver from her words and her touch before leaving you high and dry, or rather hot and bothered and going back to work.

"We can't be doing this right now darling, there are things to do. Besides each other I mean. I won't deny I may have went too far with my teasing but I assure you I will make it up to you. Just be patient for me."

1K notes · View notes

belit0 · 9 months

Note

Madara and Indra tag-teaming the reader? Indra gets called back from the afterlife and takes offense that Madara is almost as good as he is. I love your writing! I binge read it all this afternoon! I'm so happy you write Indra, he's perfect!

Thank you very much for your words! Indra is absolutely my favorite, there is no one who can get to me like him!

I love that you like my work, and feel free to send as many requests as you want! Welcome to this beautiful corner of Uchiha perdition!

This was actually hard to picture, but bc I can't imagine both of them together lol.

I don't think both their egos would fit in the same room🤣.

Anyhow, sorry for taking so long to reply, but here we go!

Why would anyone call him from death, from eternal rest, to bring him to a present where his name is only a legend? Indra does not know, but such is the scene he encounters when opening his eyes for the first time in millions of years.

In his original body, but in his 24-year-old guise, the Otsutsuki awakens in the midst of a ritual. There is blood on his feet, a strange pattern drawn in peculiar intersections that don't seem to make sense, and four men he doesn't recognize looking at him expectantly.

His world spins as he tries to acknowledge the space, and understand he has been summoned to the world of the living again. "Very good... you did it, Tobirama. Now put him back where he came from." A man with long, black, prominent hair speaks with his arms crossed, looking at him with eyes he identifies as his own.

"Of course not. I just brought the most important piece of history we could get, adding I don't know how to release him either." Another jabbers angrily, with strange white hair and red marks on his skin.

"You brought my fucking grandfather and you have no fucking idea how to let him die again?!" A third man shouts in despair, very similar to the first guy, but smaller.

"He's not our grandfather, Izuna. He's our ancestor."

"We should bring our grandfather too, Tobi! It can be a great family reunion and-"

"Why would anyone rouse me from everlasting slumber without apparent reason... I'll get an immediate explanation right away, or else things will get bad." The Otsutsuki decides to interrupt the interaction impatiently, holding his head between both hands and trying to focus his gaze without his eyes hurting. He has no balance to get up from the ground, sitting up and trying to regain control of his body.

...

4 months have passed since Indra was forcibly brought back to life, and all he wants is to die again. People became progressively more stupid, having as idyllic proof this supposed descendant of his who goes by the name of Izuna. The young man keeps pestering him with uncomfortable questions about a life that no longer is, and the Otsutsuki does not know how to get rid of him.

The man who dared to bring him back, Tobirama, still can't find a way to reverse his jutsu, and works tirelessly every day to give him eternal rest again. Meanwhile, Indra decided to confine himself inside the current leader's house, and learn a bit of the current world through him.

Madara Uchiha, his supposed reincarnation, recounts an era of peace where his clan and his brother's became friends. The sole purpose of creating the Uchiha was an endless war against Ashura's family, and apparently, they had figured it out.

Outraged and dismayed, Indra constantly compares his power to that of the current leader and understands they opted for peace because power levels decreased over time. The only thing he and Madara have in common is the darkness of their thoughts, the shape of their hair, and their taste in women.

The Uchiha has a wife alarmingly similar to his own, both in attitude and appearance, and he ponders whether reincarnations are possible. (Y/N), he learns her name is, is both charming and submissive, perfect to his preference.

When the leader disappears for the day to attend to his work, Indra has convenient access to the woman and enjoys her quiet company. There is nothing like an obedient, non-fighting wife, and after seeing today's world, the Otsutsuki understands there isn't much of that anymore.

(Y/N) treats him like a king, attends to his every need, and genuinely respects him. Nothing gets his dick harder than a woman who knows her place.

Madara seems to notice his attraction to her, and after consulting with his wife, they decide to give him a gift of satisfaction before dying again. A night of passion, discreetly catalyzed and planned to perfection.

...

Indra walks through the corridors of the Uchiha house, trying to find a quiet place to meditate. His mind is a mess, he is tired, and all he wants is perpetual repose again. Overwhelmed by his situation, he wanders aimlessly, seeking release somehow.

He decides to try the first room he finds, and as he slides open the door, he comes across an image both provocative and scandalous. (Y/N) shamelessly touching herself while sucking Madara's cock. The Uchiha smirks, grabbing her roughly by the hair and pressing her against his pelvis, forcing her to swallow him completely as she masturbates.

Kneeling with her ass in the air, he has a perfect view of her wet pussy, and how her fingers slide in and out with need. "She looks like she needs help, doesn't she, Indra-Sama?" Madara asks sardonically, leading her to follow an overwhelming pace with her mouth.

"What is this... what are you implying-"

"A little parting gift. Tobirama figured out the formula, and you'll be going home tonight. One last indulgence is impossible to deny, isn't it?"

The Otsutsuki genuinely considers it, relieved for the torture to end and feeling a bulge growing between his pants. There's no denying the sight is beautiful, and that (Y/N) looks both inviting and predisposed to be fucked by whomever she's commanded.

He's never had a threesome, but as long as the Uchiha leader won't touch him, he'll have no problem abusing that beautiful cunt and claiming it as his own.

In a burst of arousal, he walks over to the bed, and with no words to say, makes quick work of his clothes. If the woman is anything like his wife used to be, she will accept being violently and angrily fucked, used as Indra sees fit and without complaining about it.

Positioning himself behind her, he penetrates her with a dry thrust, burying himself deep inside her and listening to her moan being muffled by the other man's cock. "Shit, (Y/N), no teeth, or there will be consequences."

A dark satisfaction runs through his mind at the thought of getting to punish her, to destroy her as he wishes, and his thrusts become brutal to the point of trying to make her lose control of her mouth. The woman cannot continue to move her head, and Madara grabs her by the hair to direct her to the pace he thinks necessary.

Both of them use her holes as they wish, taking her with abandon and making her scream all the way through. Indra will soon return home, and plans to take a good fucking before then.

#uchiha madara x reader #madara uchiha x reader #madara x reader #indra otsutsuki x reader #otsutsuki indra x reader #indra x reader #madara uchiha #uchiha madara #madara #indra otsutsuki #uchiha clan #otsutsuki indra #indra #naruto #naruto imagines #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader

68 notes · View notes

isagrimorie · 1 year

Text

[initial reactions] Critical Role: Bells Hells episode 49

That was such a good episode, I know that the characters were stressed being on board the sky ship, eating up time as the Apogee Solstice creeps ever forward but it was such a great moment for the characters to unwind a bit and talk. I always love their planning stuff despite how many people gripe about it on the chat and reddit, I love their thought process and the way they try to mitigate the damage they do.

I already love Laudna but IMO she was in fine form this episode, finally cracking Ashton open and getting that long awaited talk out of the way. I can see why the dynamic of Keyleth and Percy work so well in C1 and I wish its something they can show more in the animated series. *crossing fingers for season 3 of TLOVM!

It does feel like its a dynamic Taliesin and Marisha want to recreate in a different flavor with Ashton and Laudna, and they're doing so successfully. I love how Ashton and Laudna talk, and call each other's bullshit out but this episode especially, Laudna is showing off the wisdom she learned in 30 hard earned years she's lived.

Orym's also successfully reaching out to people with Dorian and I love how we're getting hints of things in EXU Prime that in their end, things are also very dicey. Opal getting dark???

I am so into that and Fearne's immediate concern is apparent. But also, Marisha knowing the details of the EXU Prime plot is so juicy!

The gang accomplished so much recruiting Ira, finally telling some more people in authority or approximate authority about how dire the situations are. Telling Pike, even though she can't do things, maybe? Possibly? Apparently, things on Tal'dorei are also very dicey, so Whitestone might have its own problems with the Ziggurat.

I'm going to heap more praise towards Laudna because of the interrogative sort of femme fatale honey pot play she did with Ira, getting Ira to talk more about it, tagged teamed with Fearne at the end.

Speaking of, Fearne is very much still ambivalent towards her parents, sure she's nice to them but as she told Nana Morri, her parents feel more like strangers than people related to her.

Also, Thank Goodness, the team's finally equipped but I need Dani to remind the cast that they still have residuum and the bracers of defense!

I feel like there's gonna be some Mad Max shenanigans that's going to happen on the Apogee Solstice, and its going to be heart pounding and epic and so great.

FCG also learned some things about himself, about how he is not alone and Devaxian also stressed how from this point on he is gifted with a chance to own his own future. A future of his own making. (A theme that will be repeated a lot!).

And then there's that moment when Imogen meets with Liliana again and, and, and I am VINDICATED!!! LILIANA IS A TRUE BELIEVER. She might even be Ludinus's real right hand and not Otohan which would be DELICIOUS.

I love that Liliana tried to get Imogen on her side and Imogen genuinely considered it because the vision she painted was tempting, for someone like Imogen who was tormented by her powers that's a siren call.

But of course, Fearne and Orym was around in the dream and they played it as silent observers instead of actively interacting with the dream space like how the others did it. It does feel like Fearne and Orym are still at heart, a unit. In a similar but different way to Laudna and Imogen. I love the talk they had about Imogen, about the possibility of Imogen turning because of her mother. Orym and Fearne will do what's necessary to stop things from happening and it's really fascinating how that will go.

Laura's face was interesting the whole time too.

And then, and then just when the group thinks its hopeless they get a possible help and distraction of the big army with Keyleth coming in, sounding exhausted and heart sick but still willing to help to put Ashari volunteers to help. I hope the group remembers to warn Keyleth about the antimagic that's going to happen.

I feel like Keyleth and the Air Ashari can act as distraction while the Bells Hells, as a strike team can go and take down the Malleus Key. Everyone in the cast looked happy at this development, except for Marisha who looked worried and had her Thinking Face on.

Near the end, Imogen talks to Orym and asked how he can go on after everyone he lost and they have a heartfelt talk. Orym tells Imogen that he believes in her but Imogen is not convinced but doesn't try to read his mind to know if this is true. Instead, at long last, after many episodes.

Imogen goes back to the room she shares with Laudna and finally talks to her. Whatever impetus it was: her fear, uncertainty, or the realization that she shares some similarities with her father and that's the reluctance to talk.

Laudna asks if Imogen is okay, and automatically, Imogen answers she is. Laudna gently tells Imogen she didn't need to lie to Laudna about 'being fine'. And so Imogen opens the conversation with admitting that she's been afraid of really talking to Laudna after she was resurrected, that she had something to tell Laudna.

Laudna asks Imogen what it is she wanted to say but Imogen hesitates and then says something about her fear and god I love how Laudna approached her talk with Imogen. I love that Laudna went about it with understanding because, of course, who more than Laudna hasn't thought what would have happened if life had been different.

Laudna had thirty years to think similar thoughts, to wish a different life than the one she had. She candidly told Ashton she made Patê so she won't lose her mind wandering alone.

But through everything Laudna lived through she is very cognizant too the reason she met Imogen and the other Bells Hells was because of who she is and became. And I think Marisha has her answer to Aabria's question from the 4 Sided Dive a long time ago -- there is a part of her that is a little grateful for Delilah or whatever patron that made her a Hollow One, that she has this powers now and ability to be spooky. Things she enjoys.

It's a little messed up and complicated.

I also love that while Laudna didn't hear Imogen's promise about how Laudna will always have a choice, Laudna unknowingly echoed back Imogen's words. Imogen has a choice. She will always have a choice and having the ability to choose is a power all its own. Its not something gods can take away.

Honestly, I love how Laudna is talking to Imogen from a place of understanding and I think more than anything, this helped Imogen solidify her grasp of why they're fighting. It's not just because its wrong and kill other people. All morally right reasons why they need to stop Ludinus and his group.

It's because every individual deserves a right to choose. And that love also means loving every part of a person, especially the weird parts of them.

Imogen might have lost her nerve to tell Laudna she loved her, loved her, romantic stylez and Laudna might slowly be waking into the part of herself that can access it. But its plain as day they love each other and I'm okay to wait on how long and slow this will cook, but also saying things like:

"I feel so comfortable and bonded with you. We transcend words in our relationship.

"You'll always have me."

"I'll always be there to support you whatever choice you make.

"You're my tether."

"That tether goes beyond this realm and this life."

C'MON. Those words are my ship Kryptonite! If I hadn't already shipped them, this would have definitely tip the scales! And I feel very well fed tonight!

God I love them. I love the Bells Hells.

#critical role spoilers #cr spoilers #critical role #critical role c3 spoilers #bells hells #imogen temult #laudna #fearne calloway #orym of the air ashari #ashton greymoore #chetney pock o’pea #ship: laudna x imogen #ship: imogen x laudna #ship: southern gothic #imodna #southern gothic #cr 3x49 #long post

155 notes · View notes

fireofjudgement · 1 year

Text

Marking the territory

Requested here

Fandom: Alice in Borderland

Pairing: Niragi x gn!reader

Summary: Being a militant at the Beach might sound exciting to some, but to you it's mostly doing Hatter's dirty work, late night patrols and worst of all - boring meetings. This particular one started off just like the others but thanks to a new member it would quickly go downhill.

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: swearing, established relationship between reader and Niragi, mentions of alcohol, nudity, teasing, public sex, exhibitionism, oral sex, jealousy, requested reader was feminine I think but i didn't mention any genitals or specific pronouns so I tagged it as gn reader - please let me know if I missed a part that would suggest otherwise

A/N: Yes, I turned a simple request into a rant about Niragi's exhibitionist kink, what are you gonna do about it. And yes, this is the first thing I'm posting after like six months, you're welcome 😌

"And why exactly did I just waste a fucking hour listening to some..newbie's life story?"

You relaxed your face, careful not to show your amusement at Niragi's words. You lived at the Beach long enough to understand that the militants and executives were basically Hatter's chosen family - their so-called duties weren't always taken too seriously. He did like to play pretend however and look professional, in front of newcomers at least. Something something elite organization, something something only the best players. Usually you'd all play along, but clearly someone had other plans today.

"Hmm..Let's see." Of course Hatter had to pretend to take Niragi's question seriously. You've yet to see him break character in front of a new member. "Considering the fact that it's only ten in the morning, on a Monday no less, and yet Aguni had to drag you, in his own words, out of the bar and threaten to take your beloved weapon away, just for you to put a shirt on- I simply assumed you didn't have anything better to do anyway. Please forgive me if I was wrong."

"You are indeed wrong, Hatter." It was almost impressive how the obvious irony in the older man's voice seemingly escaped Niragi's attention completely. You had a theory as to what was occupying his mind at the moment though, and his next words only confirmed it. "I could think of someone..I mean something I'd rather be doing right now. Preferably shirtless." He said the last part looking directly at you, a smirk on his handsome face.

You were trying your best to control yourself, unwilling to entertain your boyfriend in front of a stranger, but it was getting hard with the way he was looking at you. You knew he'd take you right then and there if he could, on that very table you were sitting at. It wouldn't be the first time either. Suddenly your brain was flooded with images from the past, in-between or after meetings, when it was just the two of you. Niragi wasn't a patient man, that much you were able to figure out before you even talked to him for the first time. Seeing him lose his temper at even the slightest mistake of another member was a common occurrence. He liked to get straight to the point and his impulsiveness transferred into every aspect of his life. Sex was no exception to that rule.

Unless there was even the slightest possibility of having an audience. It wasn't until some random, probably drunk and/or high, person stumbled into your room while your boyfriend was going down on you, that you realized he might have a thing for being watched. It was as if a switch was flipped inside his mind that day. Ever since then the meeting room became his favorite place- he could spend hours exploring your body, his hands and lips marking every inch of it, bringing you as close to release as possible, only to withdraw completely over and over again.

You could only guess how many of your friends have seen you all fucked out, a shaking and drooling mess, all while he didn't lose a single piece of clothing. He'd never share you and you felt bad for all those poor idiots who attempted to flirt with you only to never be seen again, but he loved nothing more than to show you off, make everyone see that you're his and nobody else can have you. Damned be the person who figured out how to charge the phones given to players during each game.

"And what about you, Y/N?" The sound of your name snapped you out of your thoughts, the looks on the other executives' faces clearly suggesting they all knew what you were fantasizing about. At that moment you wished you paid enough attention to answer Hatter's question. You shot him a begging look, hoping he'd have mercy on you this time. "What do you want to say to our newest member?" He granted your wish, but not without a loud, exaggerated sigh.

Oh, so that's what it was about. Thinking about it now, you had a lot to say to her. Starting with the fact that you noticed how she looked at your boyfriend ever since she entered the room. That everyone else noticed too. How ridiculous she looked trying to catch his attention and how annoying and unnatural her voice sounded the entire time. And most importantly, that it would be better if she stopped embarrassing herself - Niragi didn't look her way even once, you knew for sure he would forget there was a new member introduced that day as soon as everyone leaves the room. Your relationship was far from perfect but jealousy was not something you ever had to worry about. The thought of having him all to yourself later filled you with excitement but for now you had to stay focused.

"Welcome to the family!" You exclaimed instead of voicing your thoughts, in a sickeningly sweet tone, with the fakest smile you could muster glued to your face. "It's always a pleasure to meet people with such a..positive attitude." Your last sentence caused some barely contained laughter among the other executives. Even Aguni looked a little less intimidating than usual. It was hard not to notice the newbie's poor attempts at flirting, the only oblivious one remaining was ironically enough the very target of these attempts. Or at least that's what you thought.

Hesitantly, you got up from your seat to properly greet the girl, as you did with every new member. It was awkward to say the least, forcing yourself to be so friendly with someone who probably hated everything about you. Maybe except your significant other. Luckily, judging by the amount of cards she presented to Hatter upon joining, you didn't think she'd last long at the Beach.

Finally, after the longest and most uncomfortable hug and hand shake of your life, you made your way back to your seat. A loud gasp escaped your lips when suddenly you felt someone's hands firmly grabbing your waist, pulling you into their lap. It was unexpected and it caught you off guard, but you soon recognized your boyfriend and calmed down a little. It was quite unusual for him to act that way. You started to think that maybe he wanted to tell you something without the others noticing, but no, he wasn't even facing you. You followed his gaze and..oh. You couldn't hold that smile in anymore, not when the new girl was staring at the two of you with such pure disgust written all over her face. It definitely didn't suit her, you had to admit. But it wasn't exactly your fault that you and Niragi made for one hot couple.

That's when it finally occurred to you however, that he did, in fact, notice her advances. He just waited for a perfect moment to shut them down, and since he couldn't just fuck you right then and there in front of everyone..he settled for the next best thing. It would be an understatement to say that him acting so possessive, though in such a subtle way, made you incredibly horny. Now that you were so close you could tell he was excited too. And judging by how fast the girl stormed out of the room after the meeting was done, she must have received the message, loud and clear. When all of the other members left the room, you knew Niragi would show you that he only wanted you. You also knew that Hatter and Aguni would not let this go for a very long time, but you'd deal with that later. Much, much later.

#alice in borderland #alice in boderland x reader #niragi alice in borderland #aib niragi #niragi suguru #niragi x reader #she's writing again!!#expect much more alice in borderland stuff soon

221 notes · View notes