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plussizefantasia · 1 day

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Don't Call Me Kitty

Bucky Barnes x Black Cat! Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Reader is plus size and it's talked about being somewhat of a negative thing (its not) , language, I think that's it

AN: This is part one of the BlackCat!Reader x Bucky work that I've been working on for a while. It was a request although I can't seem to find the original request anymore. This is part one of six, all fully written but I decided to split it up because this is by far the longest thing I've ever written and I wanted to publish it in chunks. Let me know if you like it, or if the rest of this should just stay hidden in my drafts for all of eternity.

If you had to spend one more fucking minute in the same car as James Buchanan Barnes, one of you would be dying. And you are pretty fucking confident that it won't be you.

He won't get off your back. Every chance he has it seems like he launches himself at the opportunity to remind everyone that you weren’t always the goody two shoes he thinks you are pretending to be. But God forbid you call him out on the obvious hypocrisy he's spewing because then you’d have to face Rogers and the inevitable tirade he’d go off on about how his best friend was never a bad man, just deeply broken and how the actions he’d taken while under Hydra’s control were not his own.

You don’t take issue with Barnes bringing up your past, it's not a secret. Everyone on the team had at one point been the focus of your ire on one of your bad days and that more often than not led to some sort of discussion where you would disclose more and more about the things you were trying to forget. Your issue with Barnes was that he was trying to insinuate you were one of the good guys. And you’d rather die than admit you were an Avenger.

You are not, nor will you ever be a good guy. You aren’t necessarily a bad guy, but you are not a goody two shoes. Barnes knows that, he also knows that it pisses you off to no end when he tries to tell everyone that you're acting like one.

“Shoulda seen the way she was sucking up to Fury Stevie, she’s trying to be teacher’s pet I’m tellin’ ya.” You were not sucking up to Fury you were stealing his wallet and trying to distract him so he wouldn’t notice the fifty bucks you lifted, but Barnes didn’t need to know that.

The worst thing about this hate that you have for James Barnes was the fact that you know deep down you don’t hate him at all. Sure, he pushes your buttons and knows just what to say to get you to want to knock his pretty little teeth out. But he's also a genuinely good guy and most of the time isn't all that bad to be around. But god it's so much easier to hate him than it is to sift through all those feelings.

There was also the fact that the two of you work well together. You can be bickering one second and covering each other’s sixes flawlessly the next. You have a theory on that though, you think that because both of you had been forced to work with people you didn’t trust very much at one point or another you got used to getting the job done no matter what other feelings were floating around in the background. That's what you try to convince yourself is the case. The idea that you and Barnes simply make a good team is nauseating.

Barnes isn’t only good to have in the field though, he has proved his worth off the battlefield when he knocked around some poor recruit who had been running his mouth about you in the training gym. The kid couldn’t have been more than twenty and honesty you weren’t going to hold his ignorance against him. If he underestimated you because of your size, then that was on him and in a way, was only gonna help you in the long run.

That was something that you had noticed early on, that most people couldn’t fathom that someone who wasn't a size four could be as good at your job as you are. “Most People” also included people on your team, it had taken you saving Tony’s life in the field more than once for him to admit that he was wrong about you. You are still trying to convince Thor that just because you look soft does not mean you can’t still kick his ass.

You have made people’s lack of faith in you into a good thing. Rich guys aren’t worried about their wallets or watches when a meek little thing bumps into them on the subway and who would suspect the overweight chick to be the one who scales the sides of buildings to get her hands on some unreleased tech from Hammer’s R&D department? Bucky Barnes.

Bucky has never regarded you with the same kind of hesitance as the others. He has never once made it seem like he thought you couldn’t get the job done because you were bigger. And you had to admit, it's refreshing. Not that you need his approval but it's still nice to not be looked at with some kind of doubt, or incredulity. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t piss you off though.

“I swear to God Barnes, if you change the radio station one more time I’m gonna cover your whole arm in fucking extra strength magnets while you're asleep.” An interesting threat sure, but one you will one hundred percent follow through on.

“The station keeps changing to static, kitty, you want to listen to static for the next three hours?” He asks. He's right, you are both on your way to some ball in Alabama and according to Tony, all the Quinjets are in use for this weekend (bullshit), which leaves you and Bucky to get there the old fashion way, a road trip.

You're already eight hours in and are currently driving through the small towns and mountains that cover a good section of the south. Which means that the radio is cutting in and out. And yeah he's right, you don’t want to listen to static but you also don’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“I’d prefer the goddamn static over the song changing every five fucking seconds.”

“Well, it’s either that or silence, kitty.”

“First of all Barnes, I’ve told you not to call me kitty. It’s demeaning. Secondly, maybe some silence will do you good, you might be able to hear yourself think for once. If you’re capable of thinking.” You shoot back at him.

“Oh, kitty I have plenty of thoughts I’m pretty sure I think enough for the two of us.” He looks at you without turning his head away from the road, giving you a sidelong glance.

“Oh yeah, about what? How to get more beefy? Whatever the next idiotic insult you’ll hurl at our resident birdbrain will be? Whether or not you'll get wrinkles from the perpetual furrow in your brow?”

“I don’t think you want to know what goes on in my head, Mittens.” He pulls his bottom lip up in between his teeth to stop the smirk that is spreading across his face.

“You did not just call me fucking Mittens” Your jaw is practically on the floor. The audacity of this man.

“You said I couldn’t call you kitty. What are my other options?”

“Maybe my name? Asshole.” You also have to fight back a smile. Teasing Barnes is nice, it was the closest thing you have to a genuine relationship. Too bad you can’t stand him.

“You memorized your cover?” He asks you. You almost scoffed at him, you're not a goddamn amateur.

“Of, course. I’m Debrah Longborne, Georgian peach and heiress to my Daddy’s large fruit processing fortune.” This mission is a simple one. You're here to take down a corrupt governor and what better place to do than at the gala he and his wife organize every year? You had Tony donate to his wife’s foundation under your cover name. Large enough to draw attention but not too much attention that you can’t get your job done. “And you…?”

“Brantley Moore, Law professor at Vanderbilt, and your arm candy for the night.” You like going undercover, and this assignment is a short one, just one weekend. It's almost like being another person, just with all your skills and an ulterior motive.

“Who the hell picked the name Brantley?” You ask.

“I know right, I sound like some preppy douchebag”

“Not too far off then.”

“Fuck off.” He laughs. You like his laugh. His eyes crinkle in the corners when he does it, a brief glimpse into the years he has lived through, not all sunshine and rainbows, but enough joy to have laugh lines.

“So Debrah and Brantley met where?”

“Vanderbilt has society mixers every winter, where the professors and some select students get the chance to network with some donors and other important people. It’s a believable story plus there’s over a thousand attendees at these things which makes it easy to slip our names onto the list.”

“And whose idea was that?” you lift an eyebrow. “Mine.”

“How do you know about the Vanderbilt mixers?”

“I had a life before I met you, didn’t you know that.”

“I knew you had a life I guess I just didn’t assume it involved rubbing elbows with southern socialites at prestigious university parties.”

“I wasn’t rubbing elbows, it was for a deal made by Peirce with the university president, I was there as a bodyguard for Pierce and to cover our tracks when things inevitably got bloody.” Any hint of teasing falls from Bucky’s voice. He says shit like that sometimes. Shit that you think he says to scare you or to remind you how dangerous he was. All it does is make you sad. Nobody deserves to go through what he had, and you hate that those evil bastards had taken a great man and mangled him.

The conversation peters out after his revelation. The two of you ride in silence for the next two hours. Thirty minutes in, you get closer to the city and the radio sputters back to life. Bucky reaches to turn it off.

When you finally reach the hotel both of you are a bit on edge. You’ve been driving all day, switching back and forth every few hours but Bucky’s silence for the last little stretch seems to have affected both of you more than you’d thought.

Still, you have a job to do and you’ll be damned if you let the metal-armed nuisance ruin your reputation for perfect follow-throughs. You grab your small weekender bag out of the backseat and make your way to the front desk. You school your features and dust off the southern belle persona that has been stashed away in your metaphorical conman toolbelt.

You can feel Bucky trailing behind you, and an idea pops into your head. Swiftly turning on your heel you pass your bag into his unoccupied hand. Not giving him a chance to say no you rotate back around and march forward at a pace fitting to a very busy society woman.

Bucky sputters behind you and you toss over your shoulder, “If I’m playing an heiress this weekend, I'm not lifting a goddamn finger if I don’t have to.”

Marching the rest of the way to the desk you flash the young woman behind the counter a polite smile, “Room for Longborne”. She immediately matches your smile and begins typing away on her keyboard pulling up the reservation that was made for your cover.

“Of Course Ms. Longborne, I have you down for the Iris sweet for three nights is that correct?”

“Sounds correct to me, although if you could hold the room for one more day that would be just peachy of you, we don’t know how long our business here is going to take and it’s better to be safe than sorry. You understand of course.” You put every ounce of Southern charm into your words and pray to God that this interaction can be over sooner rather than later.

“Of course Ms., Here are your keys. Your room is on our twelfth floor and the number is embossed on the front of the card.” She hands you a package of three cards across the desk. “If you need anything at all don’t hesitate to call.”

You nod, taking the key cards from her hand, and motion for Bucky to follow you to the elevator.

The ride up to the twelfth floor is silent, much like the last stretch of the car ride. What you aren’t expecting is Bucky’s exclamation when he walks into the room before you.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” The first words Barnes has uttered in nearly two hours. “There's only one fucking bed.”

Part 2

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heliza24 · 2 days

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Not gonna lie to you all, I do not feel good that we spent the first half of this finale in combat trying to kill a bunch of high schoolers who were manipulated and corrupted by evil teachers who were supposed to be taking care of them. The Rat Grinders deserved so much better than this. They were not inherently evil, they were kids, and they should have had the chance to become uncorrupted. I hope maybe there will be room for some role play resolution in the last ep, but don’t know. The whole thing does not make me feel good!!!

This is a weakness of DnD as a medium; there is no mechanism for diplomatic or even just nonlethal resolution to conflict. But it’s also the result of a stupid structural limit that Dimension 20 has placed on itself. There’s no reason that this season NEEDED to end with a battle ep, except for the fact that this is the way the IH seasons always end. (The battle at Seacaster Manor was so close to the end too, this battle feels especially redundant.) This season has been so strong in terms of mystery, role play, and character development. They could have come up with a really emotional and fun conclusion that was based on role play instead of combat.

I would argue that a lot of times D20 is good not because of DnD, but in spite of it. Or rather, D20 works because it recognizes DnD’s inherent flaws (generic fantasy world building, a lack of story mechanics, a self seriousness that can be irritating) and leverages the talent of its cast and crew to counter act those issues (creative genre usage and world building, Brennan’s strong sense of story structure and character arc, the players’ incredible comedic chops). Which means the uncreative decision to reduce this season’s most interesting and developed antagonists to canon fodder feels especially out of place. We just ceded all this great story work to DnD’s insistence on thoughtless violence, and quite frankly, it sucked!

Not to mention that this whole thing seems to go totally against the established themes of the season. So much of this season was about maintaining relationships in the face of anger and stress. It was about redeeming gods who were corrupted by rage. It was about the thin line between vengeance and justice and mystery and fear. What does it say if we drop all of that, and tell the rat grinders that they deserve to die because they were manipulated into rage?

My condolences to everyone who invested fannish energy in the Rat Grinders. They deserved the fan art and fic and meta you made about them. And they deserved better than that battle.

#dimension 20 #d20 #d20 fhjy #fantasy high junior year #fantasy high

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coloursflyaway · 9 hours

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A Little Of That Human Touch

Pairing: Edwin Payne/Charles Rowland

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.600

Read on AO3

I got this lovely little prompt from @musicismagic-writes: Charles and Edwin finish a really tough case that knocks one of their confidence (don't mind who because I'd read either), and the other spends some time lifting their spirits (pun absolutely intended!). Could be platonic but even cooler if it turns into a moment of realisation for Charles.

And we all know that there is nothing platonic about any of it.

The case had sucked, Charles doesn’t really know how else to put it, and to be honest, he doesn’t think he has the strength to even try anymore.

It’s nothing new that cases with children just grate on him in a way that might have to do more with his own past than with what actually happened, but this time, it’s even worse, because it doesn’t even feel like they helped. Because Charles knows the red tint hell gives everything around when it opens up to swallow a soul, and while they were able to help their client move on, it isn’t them Charles is still thinking about as he slumps down on the sofa, feeling so tired it’s like he still had his physical body.

Instead, it’s the teenager who had beat their client to death, who knew nothing but violence from his home and chose to spread it all around him, and God, does Charles hate it. They should have been able to save him, he knows that deep down in his bones, even if he can see in Edwin’s eyes that the best person in the world doesn’t agree with him.

“Charles”, that very best person in the world says now, and sits down next to him, close enough that their thighs touch. Edwin rarely initiates any kind of physical touch, so this means something, and Charles is glad for it, even if that something is most likely that he is being an idiot.

“You couldn’t have saved him”, Edwin tells him with a certainty that Charles sometimes wishes he could borrow. “Could’ve tried harder, couldn’t I?”

“Absolutely not.” Edwin turns around slightly to face him, and he looks like it isn’t something he believes in, but something he knows. Like that the sky is blue and the sea is deep and that Charles would bring him back from hell if he ever ended up there again, even if he had to burrow his way there with his teeth and fingernails.

He looks like someone Charles shouldn’t be allowed to call anything, least of all his best friend.

“Charles, I mean it”, Edwin insists when there is no answer, which is really sweet and Charles appreciates it, but also kind of hard to believe when Charles can close his eyes and see that poor kid’s snarl turn into fear when he heard Hell approach. “We did our best. You did.”

“Doesn’t feel like it, though.” Charles forces a smile to his lips; if there is anything he doesn’t want, it’s to worry Edwin. “And it still sucks, doesn’t it?” “That it does”, Edwin admits, but his eyes are soft and it’s enough to drive at least a bit of the exhaustion from Charles’ limbs. “Is there anything I can do to make it better?”

Charles wants to shake his head, but Edwin is faster, puts a hand on Charles’ knee and gives it a little squeeze. “Let me try”, he says, and Charles can’t do anything but nod.

“Is there anything you need?”, Edwin asks when he doesn’t get more of an answer, and Charles response is immediate.

You, he thinks, and the thought is a surprise and the most natural thing in the world at the same time. But there is no time to unpack it, even if Charles is reeling with it, even it feels like a revelation, like something he has always known.

So, he shakes his head, and Edwin tilts his head just so, as if he is trying to figure something out; for the first time in forever, Charles isn’t certain if he wants him to.

A moment passes, and then, under the breath he doesn’t need anymore, Edwin mutters, “Oh, sod it.” And he pulls Charles into a hug, which might not be a first but definitely is a rare occurrence, and Charles feels himself melt into the embrace even before his body has realised what is happening.

There is a sigh on his lips that he cannot swallow down fast enough; he breathes it out, which causes Edwin’s arms to tighten around him even further, and Charles’ head slots into the curve between Edwin’s shoulder and neck like it belongs there. The more Charles thinks about it, the more certain he is that it does.

“Thank you”, he mumbles, half into Edwin’s collar, half against his skin, making Edwin shiver in the process. “Think I needed that.” “I know you did”, Edwin answers, and his voice bears a smile, a tremble, an affection so deep it spans Earth and Heaven and Hell and anything in between. “As did I.”

And he holds Charles tighter still.

“It’s just difficult sometimes”, Charles says like he is answering a question Edwin has yet to ask, and Edwin nods next to him. “Like, I know why we do this, I am glad that we are doing it, but sometimes there’s these moments when I wish we could just… not. Do something else instead.”

“Something else?”, Edwin asks, his voice soft and almost amused and so, so close. “What would you like to do?” “I don’t know”, Charles replies, because he has never really thought about it, has he? It’s more of a vague, shadowy what-if than anything that has been given shape, more a feeling than a fantasy. “We could haunt a museum, you would like that. Or a concert venue. I would like that. Or we could just, you know. Hang out.”

A soft chuckle, and Edwin’s hand slides up along Charles’ spine, leaving a trail of pleasant, warm buzzing in its wake. It’s not quite touch, but it’s a good enough substitute. “And we would still be together?”

“Of course. I told you before, you’re stuck with me”, Charles answers, and it’s not really a decision he makes, it’s just something that happens: he presses a kiss to the side of Edwin’s jaw, short and sweet.

Edwin sucks in an unnecessary breath and then pulls away, an act that almost pains Charles, whose head is swimming, because this is not them, or at least hasn’t been them until now. “Charles…”, Edwin whispers, and he sounds fragile, like Charles could break him in half with a wrong glance, a word. It makes Charles want to hug him again, tuck him close under his chin and never let him go again.

“Of course we would do it together”, he repeats himself, almost sounding defiant to his own ears, because suddenly, he needs Edwin to know this so deeply that he never has to ask again. “I’m not letting you go, am I?”

For a moment, Edwin looks like he wants to say something, maybe just Charles’ name, maybe something else entirely, but then, seeming like he might not even be aware of it, he leans in. It’s the smallest movement, one that Charles might not even have caught if they weren’t so close, or he wasn’t this in tune with Edwin, but he does. Even if Edwin stops himself almost immediately. Almost, Charles thinks, too quickly.

A moment in which they are almost suspended in time, and then a thought appears in Charles head, cloaked in soft light and bright affection and the dimmest hint of surprise.

“Did you… do you want to kiss me?”, he asks before the thought has time to disappear again, before the courage can, and Edwin’s eyes go so wide, so helpless, so beautiful.

He stays silent for a little, while Charles just watches him: the paleness of his skin, the plush pink of his lips, the curve of his eyebrows, and the warmth of his gaze.

“Yes”, he finally whispers and it feels like he is confessing all over again, only that this time, Charles thinks he knows an answer. “Very much so.”

His heart should be beating hard and fast and overwhelming, Charles thinks, only that he has no heart left; the physical one long since rotted, the metaphorical one long since given away.

“Well, go on, then”, he tells Edwin, and watches something bloom behind those green eyes. It’s hopeful and surprised and scared, all at the same time, and Charles knows in an instant that he’ll carry that look with him for the rest of his existence.

“Are you certain?”, Edwin asks, his voice trembling, “Charles, you have to be certain. I couldn’t take it if you weren’t.”

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t do this to you, not if I wasn’t sure”, Charles replies and he didn’t know it five minutes ago, but he is. He is as sure about it as he is that the sky is blue and the sea is deep and that he would bring Edwin back from hell if he ever ended up there again, even if he had to burrow his way there with his teeth and fingernails. “You said you wanted to make me feel better, right? So, go on.”

Edwin is still watching him like he thinks Charles might disappear into thin air, so Charles quirks an eyebrow, before he reaches up to put his hand on the side of Edwin’s face, thumb caressing the soft skin there. It looks like it belongs there, feels like it, too.

And slowly, ever so slowly, Edwin leans in once more, only that this time, Charles knows to meet him halfway.

Edwin’s lips are soft and sweet and slot into place against Charles’ so easily it feels like they have done this a thousand times before; they move with the inexperience Charles expected and it’s intoxicating, it’s everything he could ask for. Softly, gently, because it still feels like he might scare Edwin away, Charles uses the hand he has on Edwin’s cheek to change the angle of their kiss, licking into his mouth and wishing desperately he could taste Edwin on his tongue, drink down his essence, fuse them together until where one begins is where the other ends.

And then Edwin half gasps, half moans against his lips and Charles presses closer, thinks that maybe not even that would be enough.

And then presses closer still.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #edwin payne #edwin paine #charles rowland #painland #payneland #paynland #chedwin #charles x edwin #edwin x charles #dbda #am i ever going to be normal about them #absolutely not

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twost3ps · 1 day

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I'm really tired right now cuz I finished exams, but I was thinking about Micheal's possible appearance in hazbin and like...

What if he defies all expectations and is actually this punk, loud, aggressive, unprofessional guy. Still a short stack, but he's a rock star.

These are all ideas being pulled out of my butt but it would actually be kinda funny if Micheal, instead of being this stoic and very professional angel, is like Adam - hes deranged arrogant rocker band guy (???)

Lucifur and Micheal are twins, but in the beginning, Micheal is the party going fun, loving loud mouth, while Lucifur has to play as the responsible twin. Micheal would start a ruccus, but his ideas never strayed further from god, so he was never punished for his wrong doings- he's just seen as a troublesome angel that meant well. Mciheal did think Lucifurs plans were stupid, and he made a point of telling him so. Eden was Lucifur's escape from responsibility and Micheal.

Micheal still gets Lucifur sent down to hell but does not feel pity but rather irritation as now lucifurs old responsibility falls to him. He's loaded with work because Lucifur worked closely with God in the creation of eden.

So time flies, eden Yada Yada Yada. (Little guitarhero hints because I'm not well) Adam is put under Micheal's guidance after dying and ascending (this totally does not have negative consequences 🙄) and Micheal guides Adam in his first years in heaven. Adam gains a lot of his personality through this Micheal- his arrogance, his hate, and what whatnot.

This Micheal is an enabler. And he fuels the angry fire inside of Adam against Lucifur, Lilith, and even Eve.

Micheal, not feeling pity om his brother, let's Adam hate Lucifur, feeds into that hate, and let's it fester. While not on purpose, he aides in Adam developing his misogynistic mindset through blaming them for why paradise had to end. It's partially also because he really blames them too.

"You never ate that apple Adam. They did. It's the woman in your life that did you wrong. And maybe it's just woman in general."

Something to that degree.

There are good aspects to their relationship. Micheal helps build Adam's confidence. He teaches him how to fight. As this Micheal is a lot less professional he shows Adam rock and metal and even gives him his guitar axe. It was made out of Micheal's old sword.

Micheal praises Adam a lot. They have this dude bro thing going on (for my guitarhero brain it was borderline gay sometimes. Micheal has slapped Adam's ass a couple times as "a joke" like how "straight" guys do when playing around. Insanity) But Micheal was Adam's best bro in heaven, and he really craves his approval, so he becomes like him.

They don't interact much as time goes on because Micheal has a growing responsibility as population rises but they hang out enough.

They party, drink, and don't really do ummm.. what's righteous.

And Micheal is usually the one who suggests it.

And maybe that's why the heavens judgemnt is so skewed because Micheal kinda just sucks as judge and justic overall. He has his moments of professionalism when it calls - he's better than Adam at being straight laced - but he has a giant bias over his judgment that sways every ruling.

He and Lucifur meet again and Micheal goes onto egg Lucifur at every notice.

It becomes very apparent to everyone watching where Adam got his personality from, because if he wasnt like this in Eden, then he surly got like it in heaven and everyone can guess by who.

For what he'd look like, it's probably some unkempt general's cothers that are ragged and torn but in a cool way that makes him rugged. His hair is long and never kept, it's crazy and wavy, but has a charm to it.

But I do hope though that- if he appears- Micheal has the fandoms stoic and formal personality. This is just a funny thought

#hazbin hotel adam #guitarhero #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel michael #micheal hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #funny idea ig

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taintedcries · 4 months

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TRESPASSING?!

chuuya who always breaks into dazai's house in the middle of the night to shout at him while in a drunken state, accidentally breaks into your house instead

IT WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT, possibly around 01:30 AM. When all of a sudden you heard the front door slam open, well, maybe slammed open was a bit exaggerated.

But, for some reason, you found a really pretty boy standing in your house in the night, uninvited, and definitely in a intoxicated state yelling something, not that you can quite catch it anyways his words are pretty slurred (damn how many shots did he take??) and your hearing is shitty.

The only thing you can pick up from his rant is a,, person named 'Dazai'. Well whoever that person is probably had a lot of break-ins from this guy. You almost felt sorry for them for dealing with this at night.

"Excuse me..?" Uncertainty laced your voice, not really knowing what to react in this predicament

His face contorted to confusion "Wait a minute.. You're not Dazai.." he squinted his eyes at you "Yup. Now would you mind telling me why you're in my house late at night..?"

"Huh." was all he said before passing out in your floor

I don't get paid enough to deal with bullshits like this you exasperatedly thought

Dragging the guy towards your living room was a hassle, so you just left him laying at your fluffy rug you just cleaned (you weren't that mean to lay him on a dirty rug).

He was pretty knocked out cold.. How do you know that?

Simple, you were dragging him across the floor to get to the rug and he did not budge, not even an inch. Anyways, you prepared a bucket right next to him and of course you did not forget to put a pillow underneath his head

You put a note infront of the bucket in case he wakes up

Hmm~ I think I've done much more than the bare minimum for this drunk stranger you thought to yourself stretching your hands

You admired this person as your hand moved to his hat to put it somewhere near him, hats are uncomfortable to sleep with after all.. And you don't want him to wake up with a more pounding headache than he already has with the alcohol in his system.

Who knows what he'll do when he wakes up cranky, you don't really wanna die in the morning.

In all honesty, he's.. gorgeous, ethereal, breathtaking even-... Okay maybe you do need to sleep. Your thoughts are getting weird

Maybe it was the night affecting you.

#chuuya x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #bsd x reader #god i suck at ending things can you tell?#this was also rushed if u cant tell since i REALLY wanted to get it out #will maybe #probably #have pt 2

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talentforlying · 3 months

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one of these days i'm going to write up all that i've changed from azzarello's bullshit era and the one (1) piece i've kept from milligan (and also changed) and the only thing currently stopping me is that it is going to be so, so inside-baseball incomprehensible. and i almost never want to go reading/screencapping azzarello and milligan to add references but i Want to add references.

canon is goop, just know that we continue to ride the bus down "hellblazer ended at #250 and looks like swiss cheese before that" street.

#( ooc. ) OUT OF CIGS.#i'm doing page maintenance before i fuck off to work rip it's got me thinking #anyway i think i said WAY back on this blog that a side goal of mine is to make hellblazer lore accessible to non-comic readers where i can #bc it's such a Heavy comic & i love it so much & i always felt Terrible recommending it to people only for them to be disgusted #and like. @ past me that particular goal is NOT as easy as you thought it would be lmao #esp because i have a habit of getting VERY detail-oriented when it comes to talking about hellblazer i think #but by GOD it's still a goal. i can put in some motherfucking references here and there when i talk about The Lore #like. azzarello's writing style never translates well for me in synopsis bc he Loves to put the audience in the outside perspective #where we are bystanders/with the rest of the bystanders to constantine's actions and not to his motivations/inner monologue #and i HATE that. hellblazer has ALWAYS been about what this guy has going on underneath the masked exterior #all the things you can't say out loud when you're queer and working class trying to survive in 70s-80s-90s england #but that you FEEL with your WHOLE fucking chest. how that feeling drives you to enjoy little rebellions wherever you can get them #(also azzarello just fucking Sucks LMAO but i'm talking style rn)#so i end up relying on frusin's art to tell the story a little more bc i think he understands the Theatre of constantine's public persona #and when that theatre is Absent then it's really REALLY noticeable. so frusin keeps me in it most of the time #and if i'm digging into frusin art then i'm Going to want to compare it to older panels bc i like body language consistency #milligan on the other hand has NOTHING to save his sorry ass bc his writing is drop-jaw fucking terrible AND the artist seems to like it #but the loss of john's thumb being tied to his mental health (ignoring the bullshit with shade) has always felt. important to me somehow id #anyway MUCH thinking about my favorite loser on this about-to-be-annoying day shdjksd he has been done so dirty #hellblazer brain go brrrr

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astro-inthestars · 2 months

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.....

Mm.

#rennikorambles #/neg ... sigh #no she didnt reject me #no i didnt mess up #no ididnt even CHICKEN OUT.#i had everything i had my courage i had my words i had my loose plan ready i was ready.#i wasnt gonna chicken out. and the worse that could happen i knew was that she wasnt ready.#i had high hopes. youve seen a glimpse of the hype havent you guys?#but of course. the one . ONE thing that could ruin everything. isnt me. isnt laurel. but the world it-fucking-self.#the auditions were canceled and we didnt know. our teacher told our class prez but he didnt tell us. or the very least laurel #didnt send it in any gcs and everything. and im not even upset about the auditions ofc im not. sure i care about it but #it could all move to a year later and i wouldn't care . or well i would of course but just..#but the fact that i had all this hope for this one moment for this one CHANCE and it all goes down the fucking drain #her friend (and by extension mine) lets call her Brash Girl which you can expect how she is. was literally just caught up in the whole thing #and of course with her stuck with us i couldnt do anything.#dragged me to 7-11 to mope about our teacher who canceled the auditions and.#.... yeah. no shot. nothing. laurel asked her mom to pick her up. i watch her leave. i leave. the end.#after all that effort. all that dreaming. all that hoping nothing.#i know it's not the end of the world. i know i'll get another chance. but god does it fucking suck.#im exhausted and disappointed and tired and i. i dont know.#i need a breather.

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poptartmochi · 9 months

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unfathomable emotions after showering

also.. i hit tag limit on this, so watch out for a very long post if you hit read more on the tags! 😨

#it is frustrating that overall it is fine for customers to use retail/service employees like punching bags. this guy will have no #repercussions for cussing me out beyond the pre-existing frustration that his order isn't ready because it was placed after our deadline #it is frustrating that you can't really defend yourself because 1) it takes too much time and there's too much else to do.#better to let them have the upper hand in their minds 2) they can take anything you saw and spin it against you in a review #like... 😞 i couldn't even get a word in against this guy. honestly i think he was using me as a stress toy because his kid is getting in #trouble for not having uniforms. which really sucks‚ I understand and empathize with that! but to react in such a way is unacceptable #it's common sense that a mom and pop shop will not process your order until the next business day if you ordered outside of their business #hours. i had to explain the way this particular school's ordering system worked to this guy the last time he was in. i provided multiple #alternatives to contacting us that he never utilized. like.. he had the tools to understand everything and instead of using them he decided #to erupt. and because I'm the poor fuck that works the counter‚ i got to be on the receiving end of this. i should know better than to be #upset about it (the eelness talking. everyone else was mad when he left) but. it's also fair to not want to be cussed out over something as #small as school uniforms! 🤨#and don't even get me started on school uniforms.. yes my entire job rn is selling them BUT oh my god. i hate them. they shouldn't be a #thing. especially when these schools cost an arm and a leg in admission + then the uniforms easily cost another #*$100. the entire practice seems evil to me but also it's the family business so. 😭. the way these schools do it also undermines the entire #point of school uniforms which is. uniformity! 🤨 i feel like the minute differences in brand and so forth and so on give kids easy ways to #compare each other and potentially bully each other. the differences in what people provide Could be distracting! if your kid is the only #one wearing a plaid jumper while everyone else has khaki bottoms on‚ they're going to stand out!#so what pray tell is the point 😭 imo it's best to let kids have the freedom of self expression and show up to school however they'd like #in an appropriate way ofc. but i digress 😩 this business is just. deeply frustrating + as if the work itself was not overwhelming‚ the #parents have to throw tantrums about it... I'm so tired! 😭#and they insinuate you fuck around + or say you don't give a shit.. ma'am I've worked so much overtime this year + that's not even counting #the relentless shifts I've worked in my nightmares that occur every night. like.. literally the only thing i do is give a shit about your #order!! at the expense of my sleep and wellness lmao! I don't eat lunch and i barely hydrate because I'm constantly working #but it is thog mode.. thog don't care... 😑 it'd be funny if i didnt care either 🥴😐#to sum up a long rant ig i entered the shower feeling very depressed and I've left angry 🤯 but this is normal methinks #anyhow l + ratio + you work at your family's store + you work customer service + u trip over yourself when u talk etc etc etc 😑😑#one day i will blow that store up with every parent ever. it will be so funny 💖😐😩😑#sriracha.txt #negative cw

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jovalencia · 1 year

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not to be dramatic but I literally feel like I’m going insane lol

#first of all I must acknowledge the percy of it all. I don’t know how many of you are reading those posts and honestly I’m not conveying #how I feel very well but I’m so deadly serious when I say I feel sick when I think about those books and not even in a bad way necessarily #just nauseous whatever. second most pressing issue is the whole “am I going to drop out transfer suck it up or kill myself”#okay I’m really not considering that last one I have to live to see dani in july but I haven’t the slightest clue what I’m gonna do next #year. on one hand I hope this school explodes on the other transferring sounds so unfun but back to the first hand I hate this city #and I hope it explodes to and I have nobody I know to live with off campus next year and tbh I would rather die than live w sarah suitemate #which brings us to sarah suitemate. how in the hell is my only friend in this god forsaken city like kind of subtly homophobic #In addition to kind of being a bad fucking person. like lol! yes ladies six months deep with no other friends and I Am that desperate #also it’s the very beginning of the quarter and I kind of hate all my classes. okay I know they just started and it’s very early to judge #but I already feel like I’m going crazy I preferred my other two quarters where I was eating literally 12 credits I was satisfied with that #I’m just scared and lonely can I say that outright is it embarrassing to admit that outright at 11am on tumblr #the only thing that gives me comfort genuinely is just repeating that “everything works out in the end” saying bc I really do believe that #even though I hope my closest friend within a reasonable radius of me drops dead and I’m directionless and I want to kill myself #whenever I think about the book I’m reading it will all be okay #anyways time to eat the pastry I got from the campus market is not a good time to tell you guys I didn’t eat breakfast or could you tell #carmen.txt

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29121996 · 2 days

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#it baffles me that i cant get like #a loan of $10k (ive rounded up bc [redacted] seems like an odd number #yes im exposing myself here what else is new #and just . pay that off.#bc it seems logically easier for me to pay $50 a week for the next 2yrs (interest)#than this . fuckery shit ive got rn #like . itd free up so much of my money i tell u #n i do mean that #bc ive done a lot of work on my financial habits and relationship w money #but im paying for my past mistakes n that sucks actually #n ik thats the point but . id rather not b doing it this way #id rather make it easier 4 myself actually.#im not racking up any more debt but my god ending the week w .43c is Awful.#not having money 4 food is awful too . i eat Enough n i do live w my family BUT. thats a whole worm can in itself tho #i just . ive hacked the system to keep myself happy n alive while i fifure it out tho . so were good on that front #but id still like to have my money back thanks #hell id pay $100 wk too . thats abt what i am paying (a little less lbr)#n ik borrowing more money to . fix the problem is exactly how they get u and i do think im smarter than that.#bc . i do NOT have any intention ofrepeating the mistakes that got me here (being Stupid #but . i was doing rlly well w paying off my debt. but id like to condense it.#the fact that theres no family member i can borrow $10k off n then pay off for the next 2yrs is Awful. id have to go to a bank n i fucking #Hate THat. SIDE NOTE????#I HAVE TO PAY MORE MONEY??? IF I PAY OFF MY CAR LOAN EARLY??? you fucks already bumped my $6k to $6.4k #n ur telling me. that if i magically could pay it off RIGHT NOW. id have to pay EXTRA???#what kinda fuckass scheme is that. genuinely. what the FUCK.#how is that fair #dawg this car wasnt even worth $6k . why is that a thing

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our-lady-of-mcr · 16 days

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#also god bless my friend who pointed out that im moving up and im going to be in a salon soon and will actually be doing something good with #my life vs the friend who did me this way pretending shes still in high school that freaks out and loses all her friends every 6 months #i wish it didnt bother me. and i know in 2 months im going to have brushed it off and move on like i always do when bad shit happens #but for the wound being fresh this shit just fucking sucks i hate it i hate it i hate it #i made a very very very vague post on reddit just asking for advice #and the more popular reply was someone more on my side who basically said i should tell her to go fuck herself pretty much #and the second one was someone who v obviously did not actually read the post who said it was all fluff and basically defended her even #when in my post i am saying i defended myself while still listening to the shit she says #and i fucking hate reddit bc people are so.....quick to be hateful and judge #and i knew to expect people being hateful but god DAMN like you yourself are basically saying theres not enough info (yes there was) and you #still are quicker to assume im in the wrong #meanwhile everyone who knows her is like bitch we told you to not forgive her last time and now look where you are #and i am not a perfect person i have flaws the same way everyone else does. literally everyone has said and done shit they regret #and i have fucked her over before because she lost her fucking mind on a campus manager and an educator and she told me to find my own ride #home because i didnt defend her losing her shit and screaming at everyone and ended up having to write an incident report (so did the other #girls who watched it happen so nOT just me) anyways now she uses that as an excuse for treating me like fucking trash because she finally #found out about the god damn incident report which made it so now anyone can say i said anything and she just believes it #its such a fucking joke to me because like ????? girl if we were in opposite positions you would have filled out the fuckin report too #granted it was a handwritten letter and not a report but it was basically the exact same thing as an incident report #my bad that a year ago i wrote a letter saying i was scared you know where i live and that youre mentally unstable. funny how a year later i #feel the same way all over again! except i dont because im not scared of her anymore shes a fucking theater kid who needs to get a grip #i cant wait to look at my self tag again in 2 years and be like DAMN REMEMBER WHEN THAT HAPPENED #every single person who knows her that isnt friends with her (i am basically refusing to text her friends bc i dont even want to know)#keeps telling me i didnt do anything wrong and ive given her too many chances and she fucks me each time #i just wish she would go get help bro there is something so wrong with her #self

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cosmicdreamgrl · 5 months

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#every conversation lately has had some kind of reassuring statement attached to it #“things will get better eventually” “you're strong enough you can get through this” “it won't be so bad over time it'll get easier”#and you know what?#i don't think people realize that i don't want any of it #i want someone to tell me this sucks #that i wish this situation had never had to happen in the first place #that it's okay to mourn & be completely unsettled #that this will never be an easy thing to cope with #this is the validation i crave #because dear god what assurance is there that i'll be okay tomorrow next month let alone by the end of next year #i just know in my heart that i'm not going to feel truly better until he is home & i have peace of mind again #so please consider that #that's all #steph.text

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nqbus · 9 months

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ngl i think half the issue with tumblr is the fact that so many of y’all have ingested the idea that you’re somehow morally superior for not engaging in “hedonistic activities”, then in the same breath wonder why shit sucks

#i can’t word this better tbh but basically #it’s one thing to be a certain thing #(ace against drugs or whatever)#but the issue is when there’s the added feelings of superiority for being pure and not like others #or however you wanna spin it it’s all the same thing #and so many people have latched onto that #like it’s hard to tell where jokes stop and end #because so many people can joke about celibacy and never doing drugs and shit #but then there are so so so many people who feel morally superior because they haven’t #which is just #repacked puritanism #like y’all are puritans y’all just think not believing in god makes you edgy #and it’s like #everyone can do what they want with themselves #i just think much of the reason why tumblr sucks so bad in many ways is bc so many of y’all #pride yourselves in being better than others #that you then hold others to this insane ruler which always revolves into infighting #with people who think the ruler itself is stupid #i may delete this later but lord #exhausting #he speaks

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burntoutdaydreamer · 7 months

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Weird Brain Hacks That Help Me Write

I'm a consistently inconsistent writer/aspiring novelist, member of the burnt-out-gifted-kid-to-adult-ADHD-diagnosis-pipeline, recently unemployed overachiever, and person who's sick of hearing the conventional neurotypical advice to dealing with writer's block (i.e. "write every single day," or "there's no such thing as writer's block- if you're struggling to write, just write" Like F*CK THAT. Thank you, Brenda, why don't you go and tell someone with diabetes to just start producing more insulin?)

I've yet to get to a point in my life where I'm able to consistently write at the pace I want to, but I've come a long way from where I was a few years ago. In the past five years I've written two drafts of a 130,000 word fantasy novel (currently working on the third) and I'm about 50,000 words in on the sequel. I've hit a bit of a snag recently, but now that I've suddenly got a lot of time on my hands, I'm hoping to revamp things and return to the basics that have gotten me to this point and I thought I might share.

1) My first draft stays between me and God

I find that I and a lot of other writers unfortunately have gotten it into our heads that first drafts are supposed to resemble the finished product and that revisions are only for fixing minor mistakes. Therefore, if our first draft sucks that must mean we suck as writers and having to rewrite things from scratch means that means our first draft is a failure.

I'm here to say that is one of the most detrimental mentalities you can have as a writer.

Ever try drawing a circle? You know how when you try to free-hand draw a perfect circle in one go, it never turns out right? Whereas if you scribble, say, ten circles on top of one another really quickly and then erase the messy lines until it looks like you drew a circle with a singular line, it ends up looking pretty decent?

Yeah. That's what the drafting process is.

Your first draft is supposed to suck. I don't care who you are, but you're never going to write a perfect first draft, especially if you're inexperienced. The purpose of the first draft is to lay down a semi-workable foundation. A really loose, messy sketch if you will. Get it all down on paper, even if it turns out to be the most cliche, cringe-inducing writing you've ever done. You can work out those kinks in the later drafts. The hardest part of the first draft is the most crucial part: getting started. Don't stress yourself out and make it even harder than it already is.

If that means making a promise to yourself that no one other than you will ever read your first draft unless it's over your cold, dead body, so be it.

2) Tell perfectionism to screw off by writing with a pen

I used to exclusively write with pencil until I realized I was spending more time erasing instead of writing.

Writing with a pen keeps me from editing while I right. Like, sometimes I'll have to cross something out or make notes in the margins, but unlike erasing and rewriting, this leaves the page looking like a disaster zone and that's a good thing.

If my writing looks like a complete mess on paper, that helps me move past the perfectionist paralysis and just focus on getting words down on the page. Somehow seeing a page full of chicken scratch makes me less worried about making my writing all perfect and pretty- and that helps me get on with my main goal of fleshing out ideas and getting words on a page.

3) It's okay to leave things blank when you can't think of the right word

My writing, especially my first draft, is often filled with ___ and .... and (insert name here) and red text that reads like stage directions because I can't think of what is supposed to go there or the correct way to write it.

I found it helps to treat my writing like I do multiple choice tests. Can't think of the right answer? Just skip it. Circle it, come back to it later, but don't let one tricky question stall you to the point where you run out of brain power or run out of time to answer the other questions.

If I'm on a role, I'm not gonna waste it by trying to remember that exact word that I need or figure out the right transition into the next scene or paragraph. I'm just going to leave it blank, mark to myself that I'll need to fix the problem later, and move on.

Trust me. This helps me sooooo much with staying on a roll.

4) Write Out of Order

This may not be for everyone, but it works wonders for me.

Sure, the story your writing may need to progress chronologically, but does that mean you need to write it chronologically? No. It just needs to be written.

I generally don't do this as much for editing, but for writing, so long as you're making progress, it doesn't matter if it's in the right order. Can't think of how to structure Chapter 2, but you have a pretty good idea of how your story's going to end? Write the ending then. You'll have to go back and write Chapter 2 eventually, but if you're feeling more motivated to write a completely different part of the book, who's to say you can't do that?

When I'm working on a project, I start off with a single document that I title "Scrap for (Project Title)" and then just write whatever comes to mind, in whatever order. Once I've gotten enough to work with, then I start outlining my plot and predicting how many chapters I'm going to need. Then, I create separate google docs for each individual chapter and work on them in whatever order I feel like, often leaving several partially complete as I jump from one to the other. Then, as each one gets finished, I copy and paste the chapter into the full manuscript document. This means that the official "draft" could have Chapters 1 and 9, but completely be missing Chapters 2-8, and that's fine. It's not like anyone will ever know once I finish it.

Sorry for the absurdly long post. Hopes this helps someone. Maybe I'll share more tricks in the future.

#writing #creative writing #writerscommunity #writers on tumblr #writing tips #writing advice #writers block #novel writing #fiction writing #writer #writers of tumblr

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misstycloud · 1 month

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Imagine yandere vampire hunter finding out he married one of the creatures he vowed to destroy. The very monster he dedicated his entire life to kill.

“…no..i-it can’t be..” his voice was barely a whisper, but you heard it loud and clear as if he was right next to you.

You stood still in the darkness, your face was a mask of indifference. If you hadn’t been blinking he would have mistook you for a statue. It appeared you’d been careless and let yourself be seen- by him no less. You could still feel the warmth of the blood dripping down you chin; a curtain of red fell down the front of your dress and stained it.

“Please tell me this isn’t real..” your husband let his eyes wander to the soon-lifeless body laying not far away. Small puffs of air was seen coming for the person, indicating they were not yet dead. The disgusting sound of gurgling in one’s own blood sent a shiver down his spine. His eyes met yours, searching for any sort of confirmation that everything was indeed a figment of his imagination.

“It is, I’m afraid.” You said.

He let out a devestatd choke, muttering ‘no’ over and over while shaking his head, clearly in denial.

You reminded yourself not to show any emotion and stepped forward. “I will not lie to you and therefor I will utter the clear truth in front of you. I am a vampire.”

“No, no you’re not.” He refused to believe it. If it had been his friend; he would prioritise duty before friendship. If it was his brother; he would do the same. Even if it was his own parents; he would die before letting insensible things such as emotions to come in the way of doing what is right. But this was different. It was you. It can’t be you. It could never be you.

But it was. Clearly. The evidence- the body- was right in front of him; unblinking and unmoving.

“You cannot look away from what is in front of you-“

“Stop saying that!” He suddenly shouted, surprising you with the sudden change in tone. “You can’t be one of….them.” He expressed in great repulsion.

Despite knowing how evil your kind is, you still though of yourself as quite good- well, as good as you can be when you’re a blood sucking, murderous creature of the night. So your husbands disdain awoke some sort of defensiveness in you.

“Well I am. And I have been for a while now.”

He seemed to think for a moment. Then he asked, “how long? How long have you been a…a vampire?” He furrowed his brow at the end, not believing he’d connect ‘you’ and the word ‘vampire’ in his life.

“36 years. Not as long as some others, but it should still count as something.”

“Oh god..”

It meant that you were one since the start- no before- your marriage. Was he truly that blind? Had love taken such hold of him that he could no longer do his job properly?

How many vampires had he killed during you union? All that while simultaneously being wed to one himself. While loving one, caring for one and even making passionate love to one. It was like some fucked-up punishment tailor-made for him.

He knew what he had to do.

The first tear fell down his cheek, betraying his stern expression and showcasing his endless sorrow. “You are evil,” he raised his crossbow, “and now you have to be judged for your crimes.” How ironic of him to talk about committing crimes of slaughter as if he wasn’t doing exactly the same. He wasn’t stupid; not all immortals were pure darkness, it wasn’t that simple. They do what they have to in order to survive. Only some killed more than they had to. Still, it didn’t change the fact that they all need to be destroyed.

Your eyes widened when he pointed the weapon straight at you. You expected this. Of course he would kill you. However, a part of you could not stop from hoping he wouldn’t think of you as a monster. That perhaps you’d finally find somewhere you can call home and be accepted for what you are. It was a naive dream. Weren’t you his wife before you were a monster? Apparently not, because an arrow shot at you at incredible speed. It hit you in the arm and you cried out in pain.

While you had physical advantages, it doesn’t mean you are immune to pain.

Ripping it out, you studied the black liquid staining it. Your husband swore and immediately prepared to launch another. You felt your fangs grow in length and you hissed at him. Throwing yourself at him the two of you rolled around on the floor, each trying to restrain the other. You managed to get ahold of his crossbow and threw it away form his reach.

Your husband quickly dug into his pockets to grab a dagger, and tried to stab you. Luckily you stopped him in time, fighting him with your vampiric strength. You had to give it to him, he was surprisingly strong for a human. Despite you having supernatural gifts, he was definitely a match and you had a hard time holding you down. If it was any other situation you would have been impressed and rather seduced by his sheer strength, unfortunately this was not a good situation for you.

You leaned down, planning to bite him, but his fast reflexes let him use his free arm to keep you at a distance. He was now on the floor with you straddling him and trying with all your might to end his life.

Your husband knocked your heads together which was the distraction he needed to kick you off of him. You clenched you forehead in pain and backed away. But there was no more time to dwell on that pain, because it was minor compared to what you felt next. Agony was in your side, accompanied by the dagger you had previously defended yourself against.

Your lover was close. Enough for you to feel his breath, and enough for you to see tears running down his regretful face.

“Why was it you?”

Whether he referred to you being a vampire or you being the one he married, you did not know. It hardly mattered anyway.

In a way, you did love your husband. It was probably not in the normal spousal way but it was there. Maybe if you weren’t a blood-sucker you two would have been truly happy together. Too bad fate had other plans. Even though it was true that you were probably evil, you wanted to live. And despite the one threatening your existence was none other than the man who’d show a you devotion and love you though t you’d never find again, this was not where you wanted it to end.

With a shriek, you used all your power to push him as hard as you could. He flew backwards into the wall. You supposed he’d fainted from the force since he wasn’t making any move to get up. You clutched your side and groaned. You had to get out of there; somewhere safe.

You stumbled to the window and put your foot on the ledge. The dagger he’d stabbed you with must be silver, otherwise it wouldn’t have made as much damage. The wound in your side burned and sizzled with pain. You had no idea if your body would be able to fully heal you in time for when you need blood again- or even at all.

“Ugh….”

You heard a cough from behind you. It was your dearest. He must be sturdier than he looks to have woken up so quickly. He had rolled over to lay on his stomach and had his arms pathetically stretched in your direction.

“D-don’t go.”

You scoffed at his audacity. “What, so you can finally finish me off?”

He whimpered, “ N-no, I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have done that- why did I do that?” The last part appeared to be a criticism on himself. Nevertheless he continued, “please, I won’t do it again. I was wrong, you’re not evil I know that, I don’t know why I said that. I’m so sorry, please..”

A frown adorned your face. “It’s okay. I’m not evil, but I know I’m far from good- I’m not that delusional.” Then you turned back to the view of the outside world.

“Wait, no-“

“I have to go. I really mean it when I say this, ‘thank you for all these years together, they have been the happiest days I am now able to remember’.

“My love, don’t-“

You ignored his pleas as you jumped from the window. You landed in the dirt outside. You looked back at the house which you’d just escaped from and as you prepared to run off to another town and build up a new life (until you’d eventually have to run again) you listened to the scream of the man who’d been your husband for six years.

What was he screaming? What else if not your name.

#oc #male yandere #obsessed #yandere oc #possesive #misstycloud oc #yandere husband #vampire hunter husband #vampire reader #wife reader #vampire wife reader #yandere x reader #toxic #yandere husband x wife reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere imagine #fantasy #yandere human x vampire reader

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satorhime · 1 year

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front row seat + gojo satoru ── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content : minors do not interact, f!reader, explicit smut, pussy drunk!gojo, hentai tropes ( internal view / satoru uses his six eyes ), messy sex, squirting, mating press. w.c ˓˓ 2k ˓˓

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis : sometimes you forget that your boyfriend sees everything.

“h-honey, i ever tell you how pretty this pussy is?”

he has, multiple times, because satoru is obsessed with watching you while he fucks you.

in a way, you don’t blame him. the two of you are beautiful together and on the days when your boyfriend is merciful enough not to fuck you flat into his mattress, you love lifting your gooey head up to watch the pretty bounce of your tits, the squishy sink of satoru’s cock disappearing into your pussy and how the taut muscles in his abdomen twitches, tensing up whenever you suck him in with a widowmaking squeeze,

but tonight satoru is … tonight, something has him frenzied.

his quicksilver blue eyes refuse to close down, and no matter how good he feels inside you, he refuses to throw his head back in ecstasy. it’s like he’s watching the performance of the century, one such cinematic masterpiece that he can’t afford to miss and you’re the pretty young starlet acting centerstage.

his gaze trails all over every inch of your plush body, from the way he leaves his fingerprints in the soft dimples of your hips, the tousel of your hair as you thrash against the pillows underneath him, and now his new personal favorite— a sight only his six eyes are allowed to see.

a sweet treat he’s never thought to indulge in before now, the fact that if he drags his gaze down to your body and let the six eyes focus a little further, past your soft belly until it becomes a translucent screen to him, he can see everything. it feels perverse, being able to watch the raw way he fucks into you but it’s so intoxicating, maddening and white hot, how heavenly you look spread out underneath him with your cunt laid bare to his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to resist it if he tried–

so he watches, milky lashes fanning out over petal-pink cheeks as his lidded eyes focus below your hips, right between the jiggle of your thighs. “g-god,” he moans out through gritted teeth, lilting baritone low and shaky. he’s sitting back on his heels, chin tucked to his chest and lip bitten raw. sweat drips from his brows onto your belly in rivulets and he’s attempting to rally the last bit of self-control he has in order not to absolutely wreck you as he watches himself fuck his cock deep into your weeping pussy. “wish you could see how easy this little lady’s opening up f’me, angel.”

“nnngh, i can’t see-!” you squeal, and you don’t know if it’s because of the sticky tears blurring your big doe eyes or because it’s one of those nights where he fucks you flat, where the weight of his cock leaves you writhing and unable to move properly. where the only thing you can do is toss your head back against the pillows and take what he gives.

how such an innocent night ended up like this so suddenly, you don’t know. your head had been on satoru’s strong chest, cocooned in his infinity while his arm was curled behind his own head, scrolling aimlessly through a shady porn website on your phone with the intention of finding a cheesy hentai episode for the two of you to watch and dissect for jokes, a tradition in your relationship when you were in between streaming shows. satoru ended up choosing one from your recently watched, and as the two of you watched the exaggerated, almost comical movements of the animated couple fucking on the screen, you had expected his boyish jokes to begin and make you giggle, but he’d been silent— eyes darkening with something worse than lust at the sight of the x-ray view of the male character’s engorged cock sinking deep into the female character’s pussy while she wailed and babbled incoherently.

this what gets you hot ‘n’ bothered when i’m not around, angel?

the rest is hazy, lost in the way you’re splayed out on the sheets now, knees bent to your shoulders and fingers desperately digging into the backs of your trembling thighs to hold them in the air for gojo. the position is uncomfortable and you’re not flexible like that, joints in your poor hips aching but you don’t care, not when he’s got your breasts bouncing lewdly with each repeated, dirty slam of the tip of his cock right up against your womb until you can practically feel him in your throat, stealing the desperate screams right from your vocal cords.

“that’s a real shame, princess,” he coos, an egoistic smirk on his lips but it falters when you squeeze ‘round him just right, sore cunt twitching against the hard swell of his cock. his ocean blues dim, fingernails scratching against your squishy sides for leverage not to fuck deeper but to push you away because while he’s practiced, you feel too fucking good and he needs a minute, damn it, he’ll cum too fucking fast and ruin the perfect view of your cunt and it’ll be all your fault—

“wah-why did you stop-... please, miss your cock so much,” you simper, needy.

but he ignores your sweet little cries, drawing his hips back until his cock slips out of you and he lays it flat against your seam, greedily drinking down how fucking pretty you look beneath him like this, so good for him in the way you struggle to hold those sweet thighs up so he can have easy access to an even sweeter cunt. he wraps one hand around the root of his sticky girth, can’t help himself when he slaps the tip hard against the hood of your clit, just to earn that cute little yelp you make. “you’re so good for me always, sugar. such a good girl, huh? but i’m not sure of that anymore after tonight. you’ve been holding out on me.”

“w… wh- i am a good girl-”

“but that’s okay,” he cuts you off. “i’ve got a front row seat now. know why?”

he loves watching the pretty picture that confusion paints on a fucked out expression like yours. you fumble for the answer like a teacher’s pet, even though you’re distracted by grinding your clit against the tip of gojo’s cock for desperate, greedy friction. you’re too drunk on him to understand the true meaning behind those slurred out words and he knows it. head always caught up in the pleasure simmering in your belly that you forget the man fucking you is considered the strongest sorcerer in the world for a reason and oh … oh, there it is.

sometimes you forget that he views the world differently than normal men. the x-ray porn you secretly like may be an unrealistic act seen only in hentai, but gojo satoru wouldn’t be the strongest sorcerer if he couldn’t bring fiction into reality.

“y-you can see inside me,” you whisper, a little awed, and the thought of it is so fucking hot. you squeeze around emptiness when he nods, wanting to suck his tip right back into your tight pussy and you can practically feel the slick dripping out of you as he flashes a devastating, heartbreaker smile at you. “the six eyes. y-you can see how much i want you to fuck me again.”

“smart girl,” his praise warms your veins until your blood feels honeyed, running through you thick and slow. gojo flicks the tip against your clit one last time for the road before he reaches down, spreading one side of your folds open so he can nudge at the creamy ring to your cunt. “i can see everything.”

“i can see how this little cunt is stubborn, how she never wants to stretch properly f’ me, the way she twitches when i hit it just right. i can see everything,” and he can, his technique zeroing in on his girth sinking in and stretching you wide, his answering whine almost louder than yours, eyes threatening to clamp shut as he feeds you the long stretch of his cock once more. the air in the bedroom of his penthouse makes your bodies slippery with sweat while you squirm underneath him on hot sheets, your breath wheezing out of your lungs until you can’t breathe. “look at that.”

“i- hng, can’t-!”

it’s a hotter fuck like this, knowing those pretty blue eyes can see every rib and ridge of the inside of your pussy. that satoru knows the exact way your gummy walls, pretty pink against the white of his cock, look when you swell and squeeze for the stinging stretch, smeared in his precum. it makes you feel delirious— expression cracked wide open with pleasure, tongue lolling out of your pretty mouth, gaze fluttering releasing desperate whines as gojo fucks too fast, cockhead bullying your g-spot into overstimulation so that you can’t even fight it when you gush, the lewd sound of slick squelching out of you burning heat into your cheeks.

“look at you, squirtin’ all over me, angel,” gojo groans, stamping down the fast approach of his orgasm as arousal streams down the curve of your ass, wetting his expensive sheets. watching the way your swollen, puffy pussy spasms and tries to force him out but it only makes him drive deeper, his pace brutal— his hips rouged red from the friction of your bodies slapping together. “prettiest pussy in the whole world. you know that?”

“y'r gonna cum inside me, right 'toru? s-so i'll look even prettier?” you simper under the praise, big doe eyes staring up at him behind a dreamy haze.

“shouldn't have said that, sweet girl. ooooh, f-fuck. you shouldn't. have. said. that. fuck fuck fuck, i'm gonna put my cum right here, ” he babbles desperately, a big hand splaying out on your belly, pressing down hard as his thumb dips low, circling your sticky clit almost desperately. the words punctuated by the heavy slap of his balls against your ass, headboard knocking violently into the wall. his spine tenses, orgasm building in the pit of his gut and he can’t wait to see it, the sight of his cum painting against your pretty walls. “and you're gonna take care of it f’ me, aren’t you? promise ‘toru you won't spill a drop?”

“i promise-! i promise i promise i promise, give me your cum- ‘toru- pleas-”

“shut up, angel face. you’re about to make me miss the best part of the movie.”

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