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chrollohearttags · 4 months

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ENVY | EREN JAEGER • the seven slutty sins series: part two

he’s not selfish, he just wants you all to himself..

musician/influencer au, possessive (yandere if you squint) eren, black fem reader, rough sex, spit play, hair pulling, overstim, exhibitionism, etc.

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eren never got jealous!

at least that’s what he told himself..nothing ever really garnered that much of a rise out of the rapper. Sure, he’d have fleeting moments of self doubt and insecurity like any other warm blooded human on this planet but one thing that could be said of EJ The Don, was that he was no hater. Others’ problems or accomplishments were of no consequence to him…someone trending higher on the charts for a number one spot? Cool. Just meant that it was their time instead of his. Awards shows? He wasn’t bothered. One man’s win didn’t spell failure for him. And when it came to women? EJ was the textbook definition of unbothered. He was cool on every single one that had ever crossed his path. Nonchalant and never worried with the possibility that he could lose her. Simply put, it wasn’t a problem for him. He was also never worried about his proverbial competition..because on the off chance that another guy was in the picture, there was no question of who she was going home with! He never had a reason to resent anyone..

…that was until he saw you with him!

“Oh my—‘rennn, fuuuck, I can’t..”

“Can’t what, hmm? Go ‘head, speak up, baby. I’m listening..”

he was calm and collected until he spotted you on Twitter..one of the rare instances he decided to actually engage with the app and he happens to see his beloved (y/n) dancing to his best friend’s song. Subtly shaking your ass to the upbeat instrumental in that skin tight dress. A sheer thong peeking out underneath and giving the world a small glimpse of what belonged to him…that tiny string swallowed up by the thick of that ass and plump pussy lips. The same ones that were all but drooling for him at the moment as he thrashed around your insides with a thumb gently placed into that puckering asshole to aid in your pleasure.

“N-no more..you win…I can’t take it..”

you’d declare in haste, but he wasn’t buying it. Or rather, he didn’t give a fuck! Why would he when you couldn’t be vexed to consider how he’d feel? Seeing you twerk to the sound of his homeboy’s lyrics when he was all that you needed? He was the only one that could turn you so salacious..ripping your clothes off as if they were paper thin..that much proven by the fact that right now, you were bent over the counter space where his friend had just sat prior to going on stage. Buried to the hilt on his stiff, aching cock as he hooked two fingers into your mouth whilst they swabbed your tongue. The same one that throbbed and pulsed at the very sight of you..the one that swelled so large, it made it damn near uncomfortable to sit down when you showed off that pretty little body and once you spread those legs to show him what was in between, his tip seeped with precum and embarrassingly, sometimes, he’d come all on his lonesome. Hence why he was pounding your cunt into full blown submission and sincerely hoped that someone would catch you two in the act right now.

“You say that but you keep throwing that shit back on me..take that dick and shut the fuck up..”

those same slender, tattooed fingers that were once hooked in the side of your jaw and underneath you to massage that very sensitive clit, were now cupped around your throat so that you could get a generous glimpse at your face right now. That beautiful face desecrated with fallen tears and ruined makeup. Your melted lace lifted clean from the perimeter of your head as he tugged it to keep you in place with those deep strokes. “Look in that fucking mirror. Look how pretty you are taking that dick..” Alternating his pacing between rough and gentle, fast and slow..all in an attempt to bring you closer to your inevitable peak..one that would undoubtedly leave you in a dripping wet mess. He’d watch you tap at that countertop to concede defeat or even reach back to paw at his abs but was only met with sharp hisses and a demented laugh, letting you know that he didn’t care about your pathetic pleas. Honestly, they were nothing more than fuel for his desires. Tugging your head back to occasionally fill those jaws with generous strings of saliva; slapping you to promptly receive your gratitude.

“Did you think I was gon’ let you get away with that shit, baby? This is mine..this my pussy..”

something he’d instill that empty little brain of yours, even if it took all night. If it took another artist and all of the staff backstage walking in, witnessing you in this vulnerable state. “Now open up. Spread that ass open..I want you to take all my nut…get you so full you can’t go nowhere..”

make no mistake, he wasn’t selfish. He wasn’t even jealous…he just wanted you all to himself.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

@jadeisthirsting @spaceforher @honeybleed @shamelesshoefairy @calibabii21 @kaennih-skittles @astrokatsuki @bey0nseh @anubisisthebomb

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incorrectbatfam · 3 months

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It's movie night but they can't use the home cinema, what do they do?

[week 1]

Bruce: Thanks for letting us use your place for movie night while we fix that leak at home.

Dick: No problem. Besides, I have plenty of snacks and the director's cut of Dumbo.

Everyone: *gathers around*

Dick: *puts on the movie*

~ 10 minutes in ~

*beep* *beep* *beep* *beep*

Tim: My crime alert's going off.

Harper: Mine too.

Duke: Must be big.

Bruce: Suit up and rendezvous in three.

Dick: *sighs and pauses the movie*

Dick: Can't get one night in this damn city.

———————

[week 2]

Tim: Steph, why are we at a karaoke lounge?

Steph: I know the owner's cousin's hairdresser's dog walker's sister's girlfriend and I convinced them to let us use the party room. Don't worry, it's just like a TV screen.

Steph: *puts on Pitch Perfect*

Steph: Ooh, I love this part.

Steph: *grabs a mic and starts singing*

Everyone:

Damian: *stuffs napkins in his ears*

———————

[week 3]

Jason: Since we decided on Pride and Prejudice, I thought I could play it at my safehouse.

Dick: Sweet, thanks!

Jason: *unlocks the door*

Dick: *tries to step in*

Jason: *stops him*

Jason: I said I could play it. I never said you could come in. I don't want your you-ness all over my new stuff.

Bruce: Jason, be reasonable.

Harper: Yeah, you got this junk off the side of the road.

Jason: My junk, my rules.

Tim: Then what are we supposed to do?

Jason: Fire escape's around the back. You'll get a decent glance.

~ 20 minutes later ~

Dick: *leans his head in to hear better*

Jason: My air, my rules.

Jason: *closes the window*

———————

[week 4]

Bruce: Cass, it's your turn. Got the movie?

Cass: *nods and plays Rambo on her computer*

Barbara: Uh, why isn't there any sound?

Cass: Volume button broke. Just read lips.

Jason: Kinda hard to do that with the brightness at zero. Did that stop working too?

Duke: Looks fine to me.

Jason: Shut up, Flashlight.

———————

[week 5]

Tim: I brought my entire Star Wars collection.

Bruce, dodging a space laser: Not the time.

Tim: Okay.

Bruce: *punches an alien robot*

Tim: How about now?

———————

[week 6]

Barbara: Sorry I got a cold, but at least we can still have movie night on Zoom. I torrented a copy of The Matrix.

Barbara: *shares her screen*

*movie plays*

Barbara: *leaves herself unmuted*

Barbara: *starts crinkling Sun Chips*

———————

[week 7]

Everyone: *crowd around Damian's phone watching My Neighbor Totoro*

Bette: Why is your phone so small?

Damian: I have tiny hands.

———————

[week 8]

Harper: Because we're watching Cars this week, I thought I could put together an all-immersive experience.

Bruce: BY LOCKING US IN A RUNAWAY SEMI-TRUCK?!?

———————

[week 9]

Duke: I called this company and since we're heroes, they're letting us use their electronic billboard for this week's movie at a huge discount. Kill Bill should be coming on right about...

*movie starts playing*

Jason: Not bad, Narrows.

*billboard switches to an ad*

———————

[week 10]

Carrie: Since Steamboat Willie is now public domain, I thought we could do something different tonight.

Carrie: *pulls out a flipbook*

———————

[week 11]

Everyone: *watching Love, Simon in a dark living room*

*lights flick on*

Apollo and Midnighter: *standing there in date night outfits*

Steph: Um, Cullen, who are these guys?

Cullen: *laughs nervously*

Cullen: Everyone, meet Apollo and Midnighter. They're kinda-sorta my gay uncles and we're kinda-sorta in their apartment and I kinda-sorta didn't expect them to come back early.

Midnighter: Remind me why we gave you a spare key?

———————

[week 12]

Kate: *sets up a projector and plays Glass Onion*

Bruce: Kate, this is a crime scene.

Kate: The fun part's already done, let Gordon do cleanup this time.

———————

[week 13]

Alfred: Back in my day, we did not rely on scrupulous use of technology. Which is why I propose watching a classic Sherlock Holmes tale on a classic instrument.

Alfred: *pulls out a zoetrope*

Steph: Anyone know what that is?

Dick: Not a clue.

———————

[week 14]

Luke: Nothing like a good ol' drive-in movie. Great idea, Helena.

Helena: I know, and the Godfather is perfect for this.

*Batmobile crashes through the screen*

Steph: Sorry we're late.

Duke: I'm still figuring out the PRINDL.

———————

[week 15]

*TV playing the Aristocats*

Bruce, trying to flirt: I like what you've done with the curtains.

Selina: Thanks, but it was Snowball's after-dinner surprise.

*TV blinks off*

Tim: Hey, what gives?

Selina: *takes a chewed-up cord out of a cat's mouth*

Selina, sighing: This is why I married rich.

———————

[week 16]

Luke: May I present the ultimate Snakes On A Plane drone show!

*phone rings*

Luke: Hello? ... Yes, this is he. ... Mhm. ... Yep. ... Okay.

Luke: Never mind, the FAA says I can't.

———————

[week 17]

Everyone: *watching Legally Blonde at Bette's place*

*dogs barking*

*sirens*

*loud music*

*car honk*

*neighbors shouting*

Bette: Sorry, we have thin walls.

Bruce, shrugging: Eh, still not as bad as HOA.

———————

[week 18]

Damian: Where is movie night this time, Father?

Barbara: My money's on another crime scene.

Bruce: Actually, I rented out the theater just for us and they're playing a special edition of The Mark of Zorro. Everyone got their snacks?

Duke: Popcorn, check.

Cass: Licorice, check.

Steph: M&Ms are obviously the right answer by the way.

Dick: I got a slushee.

Jason: I got the slushee machine.

Bruce: Alright then, take your seats. The movie's about to begin.

*movie plays*

*Rogues break in, make a mess, and leave*

Bruce:

Bruce: I miss my parents.

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tripleyeeet · 10 months

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THE ROGUE TAX (2)

SUMMARY: Fed up with paying Astarion to pick all the locks, you force yourself to learn the hard way.

PAIRING: Astarion & Female Reader (reads as Gender Neutral but future chapters will be femme focused, just a heads up!)

WORD COUNT: 2,635

WARNINGS: Short nightmare sequence, too much sexual tension, slight mentions of a handkink, inappropriate lock pick teaching.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know I'm posting these super early but day two of the Haunted Hoedown! This time the prompt is "finders keepers!" I honestly had so much fun with this one, so hopefully all the new Astarion fans that've followed me in the last day enjoy? Love you guys. :))))

Also I was originally going to make all of these challenge fics separate but I've since decided to make it more of a connected fic so... that's a thing now? I'll link the last chapter below!

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST / NEXT CHAPTER

“I wasn’t aware you were so proficient at lock picking.”

You smirk at Astarion’s false praise, busying your hands against the lock’s mechanism. You’ve only been at it for five or six, maybe seven tops but you can already tell it’ll be a while. The lock itself is tough; covered in a layer of thick rust. Plus, being that it’s a chest and not a door, it’s a bit more advanced than you’re used to.

“Yes, well, not all of us are vampires that can woo their way through a padlock.”

In response, Astarion laughs, throwing his head back so dramatically that from the corner of your eye, it looks as if he’s lost his head for a moment. “You do realize who you’re talking to, correct?”

You hum out a response and push the short hook further in, feeling the pressure of a loose pin hit the end. When that happens, you grin to yourself and slide closer to the chest, biting your bottom lip in excitement.

Over the last few weeks, you and the rest of the group had come upon some interesting findings. A cave inside a well, a few hidden cellars around the surrounding the goblin camp, a hidden chest or two. At first, it was exciting, getting to experience the joys of a good treasure hunt but quickly such feelings fell once you discovered how difficult it was to break into said things without the help of Astarion and his seemingly magic hands.

“I know you’re excited to prove yourself, darling, but why don’t you let me finish things off, hm? It’ll go a lot quicker.”

You shake your head and continue your ministrations, carefully pushing the hook further in, feeling that alleviated pressure of another pin. “I’m tired of relying on you and your bloody rogue tax.”

After agreeing that Astarion would just pick every lock your party found for a price, it was evident he was more than willing to take more than he was owed. Saying things like I did all the work or you wouldn’t be here if not for me, it was obvious he was exploiting you. Using his roguish charms to earn himself a bigger cut despite doing next to nothing else.

It was frustrating, to say the least. Another minor annoyance to add to his long list of negative personality traits, and lately you were determined to combat it. To learn the trade for yourself so that every piece of treasure found could remain solely yours.

“I’m sure everyone is but that’s the price you pay for a professional.”

You roll your eyes and continue to fiddle, feeling his gaze glued to the positioning of your hands —how your fingers tighten and twist around the metal instrument.

You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you at least a little bit nervous —having his eyes on you. Across your palms, you can feel the slick of sweat collecting with each new movement, while behind you, you can practically feel Astarion’s judgement throughout, silently picking apart all of your mistakes.

“You’re doing—“

You shush him angrily before he can continue, knowing he’s trying to break your concentration. Knowing that he thinks that if he can prove to be enough of a distraction you’ll end up slipping up and giving in.

“I was just going to tell you about the wonderful job you’re doing.” His tone is laced with sarcasm. Drenched in a thick layer of impatience that has you groaning under your breath.

“Isn’t there someone else you can bother?”

“No.”

You know there is. In the other room of the abandoned building you currently find yourselves in, at least four other people are rooting through the rubble. Most likely they’re stationed in their usual areas. Gale’s probably next to the stack of bookshelves with Karlach, telling her all about his collection back at the camp while Wyll and Shadowheart are searching through the cellar in hopes of more wine.

“You sure?”

For a moment you debate telling him to go keep watch with Lae’zel just so that he’ll shut up but the thought dissipates once you feel him flop onto the floor beside you with a groan.

“Everyone else is so dull,” he complains. His line of slight flickers between your face and hands, watching the way they remain almost too still as he speaks. “They’re all do this do that, and for what?”

You shrug your shoulders ever so slightly, unsure of what he means.

“They’re all living for other people, darling. Other causes. Everything they do serves a higher purpose and for that reason alone, they’re boring.”

Despite your previous determination your hands release themselves from the padlock before you find yourself readjusting —moving to plop down next to him. “You think everyone’s boring because they’re selfless?”

“Predictable,” he corrects, pointing a loose finger in your direction. “All of them talk too much about a future that may not even come considering we’re infected and have little idea on how to remedy the situation.”

You’re not sure where this rant is coming from but you welcome it considering it’s been weeks since you’ve had a normal conversation that didn’t revolve around mapping or looting or combat. Weeks since you’ve taken a moment to learn about the people you find yourself in constant contact with.

“Some people just don’t like looking back.”

There’s a hint of surprise in his eyes when you respond as if he wasn’t expecting such an answer. Or really, maybe an answer at all. All at once his face seems to rise in thought, taking a moment to absorb the words before he hums in response, pursing his lips. “Yes, well, I suppose some people don’t have a past worth running from.”

What’s that supposed to mean?

The tadpole behind your eye wriggles for his attention before you can even think to suppress it. Working to pull him in as you stare at one another, narrowing your eyes at the sudden cerebral contact. At first, he’s reluctant. You can feel the pushing sensation suggesting that you stop. That you should stick to the confines of your own mind rather than pestering him, but quicker than you can move away to agree, it’s as if you’re sucked back in again. Pulled by the very thread of your own brain matter to see flashes of a life you assume to be his.

The first thing you see is candlelight. A flickering of warm hues that dance across wooden interiors. It’s almost dizzying the way the light shifts across your vision, forcing you to close your eyes. Next to you, you can hear Astarion breathing heavily. Deep inhales followed by even deeper exhales that you swiftly use as a metronome to carry your focus. To aid your tadpole’s connection.

Swallowing hard, you listen to the beats of his breath, feeling them take over your chest as the vision in front of you grows to reveal bits of cobblestone. In the background, you can hear the faint sounds of scuttling feet. The dripping of water. A hungry growl followed by an even hungrier gnaw of flesh that squelches on your tongue.

You can taste the iron —feel the fur and bones of an unknown animal brush against your lips and gums. All of it swirls around your mouth like a tornado of overstimulating sensations, forcing the vision to pass as you reach for your throat, coughing up nothing but your own spit despite how real it feels.

It’s apparent then what Astarion means. That some people aren’t always blessed with the privilege of running away. That people like him don’t have the means of calling upon allies to aid them through the awful shit that is reality.

Even with such little context, you can sense through his tadpole that he’s alone in this life. Alone before the Illithid —alone now. And more than likely, he’ll be alone after it’s all over, in death or otherwise.

Rubbing your throat —trying your best to get rid of the tainted feeling of skin and bone from your mouth, you feel empathy rather than sympathy. An understanding of his words as you look toward him, noticing the far-off look in his eye before he blinks and travels back.

“I only showed you that to save the explanation,” he says, and whether or not it’s true you merely just nod, welcoming the silence. The tranquil hush of two people attempting to navigate the other.

It doesn’t last long. In between, there are a few moments of background noise. The sound of echoing footsteps and muffled voices. You know it’s the others looting just as you should be, but neither of you moves to join until Astarion eventually clears his throat, signalling change.

“Anyway, they’re all in their own worlds, coasting on the wings of optimism.” He flicks his hand around the air while rolling his eyes. “It’s disgusting and partly why I choose your company above theirs.”

Letting yourself fall back into your usual, somewhat antagonistic rhythm, you give him a curious look. “Partly, huh?”

“Don’t get too excited,” he quips, the edge of his lip twitching into that usual grin of his. “The other part is the potential of your blood, darling.”

“Ah yes. And here I was assuming you were just following me around so that you could steal my treasure.”

Both of your eyes move back to the unbroken padlock. It’s the only thing in this room that seems to be worth either of your time and Astarion knows it. It’s why he’s been so keen on your failure.

“You know, I could help you if you like. Show you a thing or two so that the next time this happens you don’t have to rely on me.”

It’s tempting, even if you know that you’ll be taxed to all hell. Whatever spoils you find will ultimately be cut in half and, more than likely, he’ll sweeten the deal for himself by claiming first pick.

“What’s the price?”

He shoots you a look of offence, clutching his chest. “My dear, I’d never dare put a price on the education of thievery.”

You hold back a grin, pressing your lips together, watching the way he quickly springs into action, motioning for you to hand him your tools. When you do he begins to explain the process, showcasing all the tips and tricks against the air with careful precision. Which would be helpful if you weren’t so focused on his hands rather than his words. On the way they curl around the handles of your tools, tightening with every gesture performed.

Astarion’s got nicer hands than most. Long and thin and surprisingly well-manicured for someone who spends most of his time in the forest or drinking the blood of unsuspecting animals. And guiltily enough staring at them so intently just reminds you of that night he drained your neck.

You can still feel the pressure of his fingers against your head. The way they roughly cupped you like a goblet of wine. Despite the fear in that moment, you’re now able to look back at that memory almost fondly. A moment of potential weakness for you somehow became a moment of trust for him and as a result, here you were now, acting almost friendly amid a terrible situation.

It makes you grin, prompting Astarion to stop his explanation and narrow his eyes.

“Are you even listening?”

“Hm?”

There’s a knowing glance that befalls his face then. A transition of clarity that has his mouth opening and closing before he hands you your tools. “Might be best if we take a more hands on approach.”

You look at him confused, letting the hooks in your hand lazily rest in your palm as you watch him hop to his knees and begin to guide you.

“I want you to do exactly what you were doing before, alright? Use the hook to push the pins.”

Despite your continued confusion, you follow his position by kneeling in front of the chest and popping the hook into the hole, digging around the darkened space until you feel the shift of that first pin.

“Got it?” You spare him a glance and a nod, watching him crawl towards you, positioning his chest firmly against your back before reaching out to hold your wrists. “Now, take that other hook of yours and situate it at the base of the barrel.”

Doing exactly that, you feel his fingers slowly slip over yours, navigating you through the trials of getting that second pin to shift as the barrel turns in your grasp. At first, it’s difficult. Mostly because all you can focus on is the breath that hits the side of your face. The heat of the air that travels down your spine in nervous waves you’re almost certain he can feel. But then you’re reminded that you’ve been here before; stuck within his heated grasp.

“That’s it. Just like that.”

You’re practically holding your breath as you find that third pin, feeling Astarion’s hand shift you in the right direction before you lose it at the last second. Ever so gently, his chest shifts upwards against your back so that he can rest his chin on your shoulder to get a better look. A newfound weight that makes you close your eyes and release a bit of air from your nose, realizing how intimate this is.

Somehow it feels even more personal than letting him feed off of you. Perhaps because the bloodsucking was for his own benefit, knowing Astarion, moments like that where he’s able to take rather than give mean next to nothing to him. They’re just moments of manipulation. A series of tactical steps he takes to get whatever he wants whereas this is different. This is for you.

You’re not sure how to describe it other than an offering of trust. Maybe it’s a token of appreciation for letting him consume. Maybe it’s nothing more than a game to make you squirm beneath his grasp. Either or, it’s an experience you know you’ll be thinking of for days to come, attempting to decipher its intent.

“Once you feel that final pin I want you to ease it in gently, alright? Be delicate.”

You offer him no response as you listen to his words. If you did, you’re certain he’d make some offhand comment that would only further the lewdness of it all, grinning like the mischievous prick he is.

“After that, you should feel a little shift and —voilà!”

The chest clicks open. Your breath releases in a long, much-needed stream but Astarion makes no effort to move from your frame. Instead, he continues to cling to your hands, angling his chin so that when you eventually look at him you’re practically touching noses.

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“It’s that easy?”

Slowly but surely he slips from your frame with a nod, his hands sliding across the expanse of your sleeves, coating your skin in a wave of goosebumps as he moves to stand. “Yes, but keep it hush, hush. Wouldn’t want the others to find out, would we?”

You shake your head, a small smile creeping across your lips as you then turn towards your reward, gripping both edges of the lid before pushing it up. Inside there are only a few items. A few spell scrolls and some fabric but it’s enough to get you excited regardless, realizing that it’s yours.

“Not bad for your first go.” Peeking over your shoulder, Astarion watches as you sift through everything carefully, unrolling each scroll to read the details before looking back up and raising a brow.

“You sure there’s no tax?” you ask, but all he does is laugh and shake his head.

“Finders keepers, darling. As I promised.”

#the rogue tax #baldur's gate 3 fan fic #bg3 fan fic #astarion #astarion bg3 #astarion fan fic #astarion series #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x you #haunted hoedown #haunted hoedown writing challenge #summer writes

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aesthetic-bbyg · 11 months

Text

HEY EMO BOY - Bill K.

In which you dedicate your performance to your celebrity crush, but he doesn’t know until the press gets ahold of it.

Bill Kaulitz x fem!reader

AUTHORS NOTE: this idea may be floating somewhere on somebody else’s blog but this I just came up myself so I’m not trying to copy nobody! I also had to change some of the lyrics for the sake of the story! Thx bbyg’s <33

Pt 2!

YOU LET OUT A HEAVY BREATH, finishing up the song, you reached down for the bottle of water by your feet, chugging the last of it. The concert has reached it’s final song, and you’ve got an idea that you’ve been planning for weeks. The crowd is still booming with shrieks, practically making the whole place rumbled. A grin appeared on your lips as you walked over to the microphone.

“Can you guys keep a secret?” You questioned as the crowd yelled in return, you giggled and a felt an overwhelming feeling of joy fill your body. “Well, I have a huge crush on this guy who totally doesn’t know I exist.” A string of boos followed after. “You guys may know him, he’s German, he’s the lead singer of a band, I believe he has a twin brother.” Within moments the crowd began to screamed, realizing who it was, there weren’t many German lead singers who have a twin brother, well..not that you knew of. You had a proud smirk on you face, bitting your lip to contain more nervous giggles from slipping out. “I think he suuper hot, so I decided to make a song about him, you guys ready?”

“Yeah!” At the sound of their approval the song immediately began to sound through the massive speakers scattered through the stage. You gripped the bedazzled microphone in your neatly manicured hands, the lights flickered with pretty pink colors, radiating your signature color as it reflected off your diamond studded belt. You couldn’t contain the large smile as you lifted the mic to your mouth.

“Saw this boy at the mall last week, got the kinda look to me me freak!” You skipped around the stage, your denim mini shorts riding farther up your thighs then it already was. “That long ass hair with the tightest jeans, my chemical romance on his tee.” You ran a smooth hand down your body, exaggerating your attraction towards him. “He looked so sick like he was dying, if I said he wasn’t hot then I’d be lying. Please, handsome, don’t be coy. Come on fuck me emo boy!”

The repetition of the lyrics echoed throughout the large stadium, it was actually hilarious how such a large crowd of people jumped and shouted come on fuck me emo boy, over and over again. You giggled, raising the microphone back to your lips, “This boy just unlike the rest, one look and I bitch I loose my breath. Wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? Lift me up and then I drop it. He’s with his band, goin on tour. Should I go? Well, bitch, for sure!” Your favorite was coming up, it was a little explicit but what would be the fun if it wasn’t? “He might not look he gets bitches but honey that dick is eleven inches.”

With your pearly teeth out, your lips stretched into large smile you bounced around the stage, hearing the the beat blast into your ear drum. A collection of things were thrown onto the stage, it was a common reoccurrence during all your concerts. People would launched flowers, letters, bras, sunglasses, and far to many things that just piled up on the floor until you finished your set list and had all the gifts delivered to your dressing room. You admired your fans, the way their wristbands glowed in the dark night, the creative posters that were raised above their heads, it was hard to grasp onto it sometimes but the feeling never failed to make you proud.

“Hey, hey, hey emo boy!” The song had concluded, though the fans were far from quiet, you gave them a polite bow as the crew behind you began to pack up all the instruments. You were stuck in your spot, waving to all the giddy people who nearly broke down the barricade in excitement. “Thank you! Hugs and kisses to all of you who made it here tonight, I love you guys!” Your feet began to move towards the backstage, a part of you absolutely devastated that the show ended, but also relieved to get some rest. Although, before you could fully leave you jogged back over to the microphone. “And make sure to keep the song a secret from the emo hottie.” With that, you walked towards your assistant, Teresa, who held a bottle of water ready for you.

“You looked amazing, baby!” The dark haired girl giggled as you took the cool liquid and let it run down your sore throat.

“Thank you, I felt amazing!” You smiled, “Was the song good? It wasn’t too much, was it?”

“Absolutely not, the song was great, and I’m proud that you finally got around to preforming it.” Your assistant grinned, “It’ll definitely get his attention.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the goal.” You mumbled, looking over at your dressing room, ready to go in and remove all the makeup and heavy accessories you had on till you noticed that your name tag was gone from the front door. “Hey, what happened to my name tag?”

Teresa looked over, “Oh, they’re replacing it because Tokio Hotel is preforming here tomorrow.”

“What!” You nearly chocked on your water, eyes practically bulging out of your face as you stared back at your assistant. “Why didn’t you tell me that they were literally preforming here the day after me?”

“To be fair I didn’t know until they started moving stuff around.” Right as the words left her mouth a random man came over and slipped in a paper to the plastic cover on the front door. It wasn’t a mistake, the bold letter stated back at you: TOKIO HOTEL

“Well, I’m most definitely fucked.”

“BILL!” TOM PRACTICALLY ran across the tour bus, holding his baggy pants up in one hand while the other held a laptop. His twin sat on the couch, munching on a pack of sour candy. “Bill, you have to look at this!”

Bill stared at his brother with furrowed brows, wondering what has gotten him so giddy and grinning like a child. That was until the laptop was shoved in his face, some random article pulled up with some dramatized title that he didn’t even want to read. “What is this?”

“Read it!”

POP STAR, Y/N L/N WRITES EXPLICIT SONG TO GERMAN LEAD SINGER, BILL KAULITZ; COULD THIS BE THE START OF A NEW ROMANCE?

Bill’s fingers slid on the mouse pad, scrolling the through the article as his eyes quickly scanned the words in front of him. “This surely isn’t about me, Tom, it’s just fake news that they’re trying to shove down people’s throats.”

“Don’t be stupid, Bill, the y/n l/n is crushing on you and dropping subtle hints, hence, the song about wanting to fuck you.” Tom shook his brothers shoulders proudly, his grin wide.

A hue of red spread on Bill’s pale skin, clicking on the attached video that gave him the whole performance. Sure enough, there you were, singing a song about wanting to fuck an emo boy. “I don’t know, Tom.”

The oldest twin let out a groan, “Bill, she wants you, think about it. She’s our age and she says that the song is dedicate to a German lead singer who is touring with his band.” He had a good point, and that’s what made Bill smile a bit, it made a puff of pride filled his chest. “That’s what I’m talking about.” Tom laughed, “She wants you, Bill, and I wouldn’t want to pass up on that.”

“Enough.” Bill sheepishly smiled, closing the laptop and shoving into Tom’s chest, curling up on the couch as he felt a wave of heat wash over him. If the song was about him, and you meant what you said, then it really turned him on. He couldn’t help it, his already tight skinny jeans grew tighter.

“BILL, WHAT ARE YOURE opinions on y/n l/n new song about?”

“Bill is it true that you are y/n’s baby daddy?”

“Bill look over here!”

“Are you and y/n a couple?”

A flood of questions and bright, flashing lights came his way as he made his way towards the doors of the venue. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, attempting to move past the paparazzi and avoid there strange questions. His band mates followed behind him, struggling to keep up with him due to the crowding. He finally let out a breath of relief as he made his way inside. The flashing cameras replaced with colorful lights and the screaming substituted with the shaky bass of the music booming from the dance floor. Tom had already separated himself from the group, going off to the bar to try and find a new girl to bring to his hotel. Georg had dropped out, opting on talking with his girlfriend through phone all night instead. Gustav had also followed Tom to the bar, craving alcohol in his system.

The crowd of people were familiar, he had seen some of them at the event from before, there were many famous faces. Yet he stood by a wall, eyes looking around awkwardly, despite the many times he’d been to these events he always had to ease his way in throughout the night. After a few drinks he’d start getting loose, but for the moment he’d just scan the dance floor till he caught someone he knew.

That’s when he gaze was in trapped by a spark, a beautiful glow that confidently bounced on the dance floor, happily dancing. It was you, you were dancing with your friend, a half drunken drink in your hand while your swing your hips and shimmy you chest with a surge of confidence. The short dress having to constantly be tugged down your plush thighs, as you giggled, you felt something. A sense of being watched, but there was hundreds of people around, and a lot of them liked to stare.

You leaned into your friends ear, excusing yourself to the bathroom, you heels carried you to through the crowds of drunk people and to a small opening where you could go to the bathroom. Bill’s eyes watched your every move, were you coming towards him or was he fucking crazy? He nervously stared at you, your features became more clear, it was you. Y/n l/n. You were getting closer, he felt his breath hitch, what was he going to say? Well, he didn’t have to worry since you walked right past him, eyes not sparing him a glance as you rushed into a hallway. He furrowed his brows, staring as your figure disappeared, it was then that he noticed many people exiting and passing to enter the same hallway you just entered. He glanced up and saw the clear sight that read. RESTROOM.

He huffed, crossing his arms with a frown, maybe it was a sigh that he should talk to her but now it he had to wait till you walked back out. Finally, you left the restroom, shoving the lipgloss back into your bra and strutting out. You were excited to go back to dancing, a big smile on you lip, that was until a large hand wrapped itself around your wrist, tugging you back before you could go any farther. You looked back with furrowed brows, you had to crane you eyes up to look at who was the man behind the touch. You mouth went dry, eyes widening, your knees nearly giving out and dropping you on the dirty floor of the venue.

It was Bill fucking Kaulitz, the emo boy you made a whole song about. The song in which was leaked and slapped on every article with your name in the title. You were so happy that the lighting covered the blush that warmed your face. He leaned down, lips brushing you ear, hand still wrapped on on your wrist.

“Hey, I’m Bill.” His hot breath fanned against the shell of your ear, he could smell the faint scent of your perfume, it was intoxicating. “I like your music.” He pulled away, a smug smirk on his face as you swallowed the lump in your throat. His accent was much more hotter in person then it was in the interviews you watched on TV.

“T-Thank you.” You replied, but he simply gave you a confused look. You sighed, attempting to reach his ear, “I said thank you, I like your music as well.”

He nodded, “Thank you, it seems as though one of your songs has gotten quite popular, people have told me all about it.”

You needed to pull yourself together, this was a moment you’ve been waiting for and you couldn’t back down. So you rubbed your lips together, spreading the shiny, sticky gloss. You gazed up at him through your lashes, a flirty smile on your face. “Yeah, I was hoping you’d say.”

“Yeah?” He raised a pierced brow, “Why’s that?”

“You’re the only one I wrote the song for, of course.” You giggled, watching his expression change, he was surprised on how upfront you were about it. You were proud, cocky almost, it turned him on. “So, did you like it?” He nodded in response. “You wouldn’t mind doing what the lyrics say, do you?”

“No.” He replied, watching your smile widen. “I can take you back to my hotel and do exactly what you want me to do, schatz.”

You were getting giddy, you running a hand up his arms, staring up at his smoky eyes with lust. You bit your bottom lip, “Can you kiss me?” A small smirk played on his lips as he leaned down, leaving a slow kiss on your lips. Your hands were on his cheek, leaning up and desperately kissing his lips. His hands wandered, feeling you up in the tight pink dress you were in. Though his same hands seemed to favor a spot in particular, you ass, they ran up and down your sides before they eventually planted themselves there. His head was titled to the side, neck curved down to reach your height and to continue kissing your additive lips. He pulled away, lips sticky with you gloss before he trailed it down to your jaw and neck, his cheeky hands squeezed the flesh. You gasp, allowing him to suck lightly while the music blasted in your ears but it was all tuned out as you focused on the sensation of his tacky lips kissing your skin.

You were most definitely gonna fuck this emo boy tonight.

Y’ALL WANT A PART TWO W SMUT? Either way I’ll probably write one bc this game out better then I expected🤭🤭🤭

#bill kaulitz imagine #bill kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #hey emo boy #bill kaulitz fic #bill kaulitz x you #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz smut #Tokio hotel imagine #fluff

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zaynesaurora · 1 month

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ʟ&ᴅꜱ ! reaction to bedroom talk/noises — (MDNI)

a/n: idk i had some loose thoughts and tried to turn them into something, might be nothing ! bonus boys both got promoted for this one though because im insane about caleb in particular rn

zayne ! gets off on ambient noises. the rain battering the window panes, the crackling of a wood fire, the thump of the headboard against the wall- he’s romantic like that. he's pretty quiet broadly speaking when it comes to sex and so he enjoys when the atmosphere helps him to express his feelings, his own noises typically being the air escaping his nose in heavy puffs.

he has one sound he enjoys above all those though, always prefacing it with a gentle "are you ready, my love?"- before slipping himself into your awaiting walls, revelling in the gasp that follows in response.

accompanying it will always be the sounds of kissing. zayne pulling you under the sheets, wet lips planting themselves where ever he can reach- the dip of your collar bone being top of the list as he takes you chest to chest in his own perfected version of white noise. an instrumental that makes your skin burn until he stills above you, professing his love with a groan.

xavier ! forgets who he is, who you are, where he is, what hes doing- mind blank but his mouth works overtime to chant a chorus of "yes, Yes YES" with every drop of your hips, descending on him with precision.

if he could see himself from your perspective, he'd probably be unbelievably embarrassed- unaware of the drool thats collecting in the creases at the corners of his lips with every breathy mumble, voice horse from the sheer amount of satisfaction rushing through his veins and off his tongue. the same dewy look would be collecting in his eyes. pretty blues glassing over in a way that makes him look unresposive. he'd fail to let you know he was going to come. too caught up in his own choir to give it even a fleeting thought.

breathing would be laboured after the matter, lungs struggling to catch up with themselves as he comes back to his senses. he'd be slung right off of cloud nine when you start giggling beside him- suddenly aware that he has no idea what he was saying, or the noises he was allowing to be known. you had no idea a human being could change colour so fast.

rafayel ! has fun in sex. teasing nature seeping into all aspects of your life with him regardless of certain activities so it's completely expected that your shared quaters are filled with laughter and bickering even with him burried inside you- elegant hands swatting at your arse randomly to hear you yelp in surprise for him ( he's also doing it bc it makes you tighten around him but shh)

rafs tone would alter to have a more commanding edge as the pleasure really sets in, "dont you dare stop" being a phrase often thrown around and his nails sinking further into your skin- each time it's laced with a snarl that almost makes him seem intimdating if he wasn't belly laughing only a few minutes ago.

unfortunately, or fortunately in his case, he grows impossibly hard at the thought of someone hearing you guys- his pride and ego stroked thinking of an accidental visitor learning how healthy his sex life is, poor thomas has to do damage control fairly often to keep his reputation in good light.

caleb ! has a filthy, rotten mouth when he's caught in such an act. not really in a humiliation sense but more in that he swears like a sailor- each sentence broken or seperated by various profanities as he bigs his game up to egg you one. he won't admit it ever but his wordy displays are defenitely not rhetorical. he needs, and wants, you to let him know that he's doing you well.

"fuck baby, you lik- fuck, you like that dont you?", he'd hum into your ear, sweaty foreheads pressing together in an attempt to be as close to you as humanly possible- each question laced with a sweet pet name.

this boy has a unhealthy addiction to the sound of skin on skin, heavy plat plat plats ricochetting of the walls in a steady hyponitc rhythm that knocks all remaning sanity out of his head and into his dick. he’d drive into you for hours after he’s slipped into exhaustin just to hear the way it becomes messier, stickier- wetter as he annouces his orgasm to you.

jeremiah ! desperately tries to keep himself as quite as possible, shyness seeping into his bones when a stray moans slips from behind his lips- a soft note from the back of his throat that makes his ears flush a painful, deep red and his lip catch between his teeth until the skin breaks and theres a metalic tinge to his delicate kisses.

would have the tendancy to be higher pitched when he's in the bedroom, somewhat squeaky in his efforts to keep a lid on his excitement and would just about explode at the sound of your voice carrying him toward a sweet release- air coming out in hurried pants as his shoulders start to shake, stomach convulsing in waves with each desperate attemp to fill his chest and focus his mind.

"atta boy miah", he ascendes. literally. minimal contact with the mattress when his being raises in an attempt to escape you and get closer at the same time.

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bbc-trolls · 2 months

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Sometimes I think about the Snack Pack and how they must have been casting so many Meaningful Looks at each other and, collectively, at their new Queen when she attached herself securely to Branch after movie 1.

I mean they had a good group dynamic going (even sans Creek) and their bestie starts rolling up to every gathering with Branch willingly in tow. Granted, the guy was kinda instrumental in the rescue of their people and clearly he and Poppy made a connection Of A Sort along the way.

But to jump from 1 thrilling adventure into becoming what is essentially a package deal where you scarcely EVER see one troll without the other would surely spark some gossip amongst them.

Like he wasn't even filling Creek's spot in the group he was exclusively Poppy's tag-along. I bet he barely even spoke to them. Here comes Poppy to hang out and where's Branch? Yup, right there beside her crossing his arms. He wasn't invited. But an invitation for Poppy is suddenly, these days, an instant Branch RSVP. He's just gonna Be There and the alternative is that there is no alternative.

But actually no, the alternative for when Branch and Poppy aren't together is that when Poppy hangs out with her friends alone she brings him up 20 times in every conversation and she doesn't even realize she's doing it. They are mutually obsessed - practically barnacled to each other. And the Snack Pack is divided on whether or not this is something to question or to leave it alone.

#the snack pack #dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls branch #trolls poppy #broppy

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facefullofsadness · 3 months

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Not to beg but PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEEEEEAAAASSSEEEE can you do a part 2 to the psychopathic but it's okay band au thing and what the dynamic is like afterwards and maybe the rest of the girls catching on to something going between them

oooo okay, I never thought about it but NOW YOU GOT ME THINKING

content - aftermath of psychopathic but it's okay

wc - 2936

a/n - the "not to beg but PLEASE" was rlly funny btw. kinda in love with this universe now after writing this

the days after you and yunjin hooked up were... hm.

things were god fucking awkward to say the least. waking up alone after passing out on the practice room couch to seeing all your bandmates the following day, including jen (who actually showed up on time). the tension in that room was so palpable, it almost felt like you could reach out and touch it, feel it in your hands. the other girls shifted uneasily with you two in their proximity, messing with strings or keys on their instruments.

that was until chaewon clapped her hands and got everyone's attention, "okay guys, from the top."

practice went on as usual, yunjin surprisingly being in sync with the band (much to everyone's relief). the day continued with not a word being spoken by either of you two, only responding when being spoken to, not even throwing each other a glance. and when it ended, jen was the first to leave, packing up her shit and dipping so quickly. you scrambled to follow suit, not to go after her, but to not be interrogated by the older members.

unfortunately for you, sakura was already leaning against the door before you could even reach for it. chaewon had shooed away kazuha and eunchae so the two older girls could talk to you privately first, telling zuha to occupy the youngest (and maybe probe at yunjin). you sigh at kura's expectant expression, arms crossed and foot tapping on the floor, her eyebrows raising as if expecting you to say something. you turn to look at chaewon, her hands on her hips, the same expression plastered on her face.

you slump onto the couch, the same one yunjin had fucked you on the day before, burying your face in your hands and grumbling.

"whaaatttt?" you groan out the question into the air.

"you wanna tell me what happened after we left yesterday?" chaewon opens up first, plopping herself down onto one of the office chairs in the room, pulling it up next to you.

you turn away from her and sigh, "nothing happened."

"really? nothing happened? that's it?" sakura scoffs and leans against chaewon's chair.

you roll your eyes and rest your chin on your fist, looking up at them, "yes kura, nothing happened. why, what do you guys think?"

they exchange a look of disbelief before chaewon chuckles, "really? you and yunjin left alone in a room together to argue and nothing happened? y/n, even eunchae knows something went down."

"why? why does it matter? it's not like anything's changed," you say.

"you guys aren't talking. like shit, you guys didn't even argue today. you know how weird it is that you guys didn't even look like you wanted to murder each other?" sakura pushes.

"you know what?" you get up, collecting your stuff and heading towards the door, grabbing the handle and pulling it open, "ask yunjin then, because I don't know what the fuck happened either."

you leave, slamming the door shut. the two girls sigh and look at each other.

"what do you think happened?" chaewon asks, looking up at the older.

"could honestly be anything, but I don't think it's too wild to think that maybe it was something that made it so that they might not hate each other as much anymore," sakura contemplates, "I don't know what that might be, but something definitely happened."

on the other side of town, yunjin sits at a convenience store, triangle kimbap in one hand, her face in the other. she groans when she hears a familiar voice calling out for her.

"fuck off zuha," she grunts, feeling the chair next to her become occupied, long black hair shifting into view.

"you know what I'm here for, just tell me and I'll go. eunchae's waiting nearby expecting ice cream so I expect you to make it quick," kazuha boldly states, arms crossed on the table, leaning in towards jennifer.

she lifts her head up and glares at the younger girl with a scowl, "and why the fuck would I ever tell you anything?"

the former smirks, "why? do you have something to hide?"

yunjin aggressively takes a bite out of her rice ball and replies, mouth stuffed, "it's not like you cared about anything else before, why're you here now?"

"because unlike your bitch ass, I actually care about y/n. if you did something to her, I'll never forgive you jennifer," kazuha states.

yunjin looks up at her with her jaw clenched, kazuha's eyes fiery and wild. it makes her scoff, "gee, if you wanted to fuck y/n that bad, you could've just said so."

kazuha grabs the taller girl's collar and balls the material in her hand, "if you hurt y/n yunjin, I'll end you. I don't care about your guys' petty and childish arguments but whatever happened yesterday made her look like a shell of her former self. you did something, and I need to know what."

jen gulped. she had never seen her bandmate so enraged before, her expression angry and serious. while on the inside yunjin was pretty shaken up, she kept the facade of looking relaxed on as she releases a shaky sigh and responds.

"that is none of your business kazuha. if you cared so much about her, ask y/n yourself."

it's not fair and jen knew it. she was the one that snapped back at you in the first place yesterday, resulting in the arguing, and was also the one to initiate the sex. but she didn't know what to say. to be frank, she was scared. she woke up before you did, panicked while looking around the abandoned practice room, laying on top of your sleeping body. the wave of guilt that washed over her when she processed everything that had happened, scrambling to get dressed and leave before you awoke.

she didn't know what to do. she was the one that started the mess, but she didn't know how to clean it up.

the fire continued to rage in kazuha's eyes, drilling holes through yunjin's head. she let out an angry huff before releasing the girl's collar and standing up straight.

"I don't give a fuck about you yunjin nor do I want to and I really don't care about getting to know you. but even after that, what I do know is that you're either stupid or a fucking coward."

with that, she turned and left the store (heading off to buy eunchae some ice cream no doubt!).

her words resonate in yunjin's head. coward... she's right... I'm a fucking coward, she thought.

it didn't get better with time. everyone just became more on edge and the tension in that practice room never diminished. after the older members discussed their conversation with you to kazuha and vice versa about the yunjin conversation, they were just left a little more lost. they didn't wanna recruit the sweet and innocent youngest and get her wrapped up in the situation, but she was already unfortunately caught in crossfire at this point. and so they did.

eunchae asking you to walk her home today because everybody else was too busy to accompany her, so you say yes because that's your baby! rushing you two out of the door after practice is over and telling her to just stay silent the entire trip to her place. it pained you to a degree to make the talkative younger girl stay silent, but for both you and her, it was better to keep it this way. though of course, your little baby was just too curious (and obedient to sakura, chaewon, and kazuha) to listen to your demand.

"I know it's not really my place to ask, but you and yunjin... the tension is messing us all up and it's not helping," the youngest speaks up.

you sigh and stop walking, breathing out into the cold air with your hands shoved in your pockets. she stops walking too, a couple steps away to give you your space.

you continue to look up into the night sky, "I know eunchae, I know."

the silence hangs with you looking up and her looking down, the cement less intimidating then your pondering posture.

"it's... complicated," you state in the easiest way you deem possible, "we don't like each other, at least that's what I thought. I suppose maybe something changed, but yunjin's too fucking shallow to admit anything."

eunchae's attention is immediately grabbed by your decision to open up. she looks up from the floor and at you, curious eyes in your peripheral coming from the girl.

"you haven't talked to her yet? I mean, since a few days ago? or at all?" a simple question and maybe even solution falls from the younger's lips, if only she understood how hard it was.

you heave a sigh, hanging your hand and then looking back up, "no, to all three questions."

"well, why not?"

"she's..." you stifle a laugh, "insane, to say the least. rude, mean, always angry. it's like if I even try, she wouldn't even listen."

she nods her head slowly, "maybe you can try now. you've never tried before right? maybe after everything that happened, you can finally try."

you stare at her for a few seconds, the sound of cars passing by on the street next to you. a small smile creeps onto your face and you blink slowly at the younger. what a good kid.

"okay eunchae, I'll try," you grab for her hand, taking it in your own, and walk her to the nearest place to get ice cream.

yunjin always goes out on nights like this to her favorite spot. everyone knows to find her there, sitting or laying down on a blanket looking up at the sky or leaning against the railing looking out towards the city lights. the roof of her apartment building, 12 floors up, music playing from her speaker, and an alcoholic drink in her grasp at times. lord knows, tonight she needs it. the past few nights she's needed it.

the elevator dings and the doors open to the rooftop. you walk out and there she is, leaning against the railing, face resting against her fist, her other hand swirling the half empty bottle of beer, looking out towards the night lights as music played. you take a deep breath and make your way reluctantly towards her. she doesn't budge when you take up the space a few feet away from her, standing with your hands in your jacket pockets, following her gaze of the view.

the silence is, comfortable. the tension is there but you're existing in the same area as yunjin and you're not screaming at each other (yet), so it's peaceful for as long as it lasts. and it lasts for a long time. standing there, breathing the same air, listening to the same music, heart beats increasing at the same rate, thoughts of what to say to break the silence both ringing in your heads.

surprisingly, you hear her voice begin, "you know, I really need you to be the person to speak first."

"you and I both know that's not fair, jen. you can't be the one to fuck everything up and make me be the person to repair it."

it's so much easier for her to be mad at you if you're the one to unleash anger at her. it'd be so much easier to hate you if you hated her. it'd be so much easier to say what she wanted to say if you felt the same way and told her first.

she stutters, you can see her eyes flicker out of the corner of your vision, "you... you're right."

yunjin repeats the phrase under her breath as you turn your head to look at her. her hands are messing with the glass bottle, stare affixed onto it.

she sighs and hangs her head, "I-I... I'm scared y/n."

you barely hear her speak, but it's loud enough for you to process, feeling your rapidly beating heart stop. huh yunjin is scared. she's scared and it's because of you.

you bite the inside of your cheek as she continues to stutter, "I don't know what this is, what I'm feeling. I-I'm confused. I fucking hate you, god I hate you so much. you annoy me, you anger me, you enrage me, everything you do makes my blood boil. so why can't I stop thinking about you? why do I feel so obsessed with you? you're the only thing that lives in my mind."

she looks up at the sky before continuing, "I've never been so fucking infatuated with a person in my entire life, so why now? and why you? what is it that I'm feeling? I get so angry with you, when you finally fuck something up, when you yell at me, when you roll your eyes because of me. I deserve the way you treat me, but you don't deserve that, so why do I do it? I've thought about it a lot but I don't want to anymore. why are you always in my head?"

you take the smallest step towards her and clear your throat to respond, but she stops you, "I know you're just friends with kazuha, but I can't help but feel my stomach churn when you're with her. I know it's a simple mistake when you misplace my hairbrush or accidentally eat my share of food, but I can't help but to snap at you. I know it's my fault for giving my less than adequate effort during practice, but it's so much easier to get angry at you for caring. you're just so perfect all the time, I can't help but to despise you for it. and I hate that maybe the part of me that hates you doesn't exist. I'm..."

"jealous," you finally get a word in, interrupting her instead of letting her finish.

it's true. she felt good whenever you would fuck up because it meant perfect little y/n wasn't so perfect. always writing or composing new music, always practicing and refining her craft, always being the nicest to the members, always trying and being the absolute best. yunjin felt threatened because she couldn't relate. yunjin felt jealous because she wanted what you had, stability. yunjin also felt jealous because she wanted you, and she couldn't have you.

the silence engulfs the air surrounding the two of you, the cold breeze suddenly heating up. it breaks early, your laugh piercing through the stillness, making the dark haired girl turn her head to look at you. you continue to laugh genuinely, the melodious sound ringing through yunjin's confused ears.

you sigh after recovering, wiping tears in your eyes, "did you just admit that you have a crush on me with all of that?"

the tall girl gulps and stumbles over her words, "h-huh? wh-what no? no no never! I mean what the fuck are you talking about? I-I was just trying to e-explain~!"

you run up and grasp her face in your hands, smashing your lips against hers, shutting her up quickly. her eyes bulge out of their sockets, looking down at your closed ones melting into her. she settles after the shock subsides, closing her eyes and bringing her hands to grip your waist, throwing the half full beer bottle onto the floor somewhere, not caring about it shattering. she pulls you in closer, moving her lips against yours passionately as you push her back against the railing.

the kiss is so intimate, your fingers lacing through her hair and her calloused fingertips rubbing the skin of your lower back. your mouths mold together as one moving unit, tongues clashing and saliva building up, the taste of cheap alcohol on yunjin's lips mixing with your melon ice cream flavored ones. you makeout until you can't breathe, your grips becoming stronger and stronger as the both of you beg the other not to pull away even if you so badly need to, pulling each other in closer like it's a challenge to stop if you dare do so.

it ends when her fingernails dig into your sides and a choked breath escapes your throat, pulling away a little in pain, panting and almost coughing like the air had been sucked from your lungs. you bury your face into her neck and bite down on her skin until you hear her whine at the pain, looking down to see the indent of your teeth, leaning back in to make a hickey, marking your territory on huh yunjin.

you whisper loud enough for her to hear against her skin, "you are fucking stupid and a coward, just a scared little girl."

she closes her eyes at your words and your mouth on her neck, "but if you try to be a better person, then maybe I'm okay with it."

"I'm sorry y/n, for everything." yunjin pulls you away from her and makes you look into her sorry-filled eyes.

you bring your hand up to caress her cheek then pinch it, giggling in her face, "you better be jen. you have a lot of work to do before you get a free redemption arc, you know that right?"

she bites her lip and nods, "I-I know..."

you feel your heart fill with warmth as yunjin's cheeks burn a bright red and darken as time goes on. ah, you're never letting her live this down.

you remember to buy a gallon tub of ice cream for hong eunchae.

a/n - everyone say TYSM EUNCHAEEEE!!! never thought I'd expand on this universe but this was fun to revisit! the og has gotten so much fucking love in the past TWO MONTHS NOW so ty guys for the support on it, I never thought I'd make it this far <333 sob sob I love yall

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bitethedevil · 1 month

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I think that Raphael could be able to take over the Nine Hells.

“Raphael is biting over more than he can chew with his plans to take over the Nine Hells.”

“If the Crown of Karsus was so powerful why wouldn’t Mephistopheles have already used it?”

*Puts on my tinfoil hat* shhhh, come here…hear me out.

If you’ve read the Annals of Karsus, we know that there are three artifacts that are known as “The Regalia of Karsus”. There is the Crown, the Orb, and the Scepter and they are ‘the physical embodiments of Karsus’s wizardry’. Each of the three artifacts have their own power and purpose (this is directly quoted from the Annals of Karsus):

“The Crown of Karsus: to attract and absorb magical knowledge and give the wearer dominion over himself so that he remains his own entity apart from the Weave.

The Orb of Karsus: a storage device or battery that condenses mystic power, ever-gathering so that it must be syphoned at intervals of its excess.

The Sceptre of Karsus: an instrument of projection, a focusing utensil for the precise wielding of unimaginably vast forces.”

We know where the Crown has been: In Mephistopheles archive and later stolen by the Chosen Three.

The Orb?: Sounds a lot like what Gale deals with, but from what I can read, people disagree about whether that is the Orb of Karsus.

The Scepter of Karsus, though, is heavily hinted at to be owned by Raphael. I don’t have the exact quotes, but if someone does feel free to share them. The archivist says something about a scepter that is like the crown being in the collection and I believe Helsik talks about Raphael collecting Karsite artifacts.

If Raphael DOES own the Scepter of Karsus, it makes even more sense why he is so pissed at papa Meph. He owns an incredibly powerful magical artifact of ‘unimaginably vast forces’, but he isn’t able to actually use it and wield it because Mystra would stop him in a heartbeat. He needs the Crown to separate himself from the Weave to actually use it.

Let’s quickly talk about another Scepter from Netheril: “The Scepter of the Sorcerer Kings”. Its purpose was to strip the power of gods and banishing their influence from Netheril, but the guy (not Karsus, some other really powerful wizard) never completed it because the Netherese gods stopped him. The scepter, however, could not harm deities that had magic within their control (such as Mystra). But we can all agree that this all sounds very similar to the exact same thing that Karsus would attempt years later? The Scepter of Karsus and the rest of the Regalia of Karsus was even more powerful than The Scepter of the Sorcerer Kings since it could not only steal the power of Mystryl but also transfer it to the wielder.

Let’s go back to the Hells. Mephistopheles keeps the Crown in his vault and doesn’t use it for a millennium. Why? We have established that the Crown absorbs and attracts magical knowledge, and it also separates the wielder from the Weave. The Crown in itself seems powerful, but as many have also said about Raphael, it hardly seems enough to take down Asmodeus in itself.

What if…*adjusts my tinfoil hat* What if the Netherese truly learned nothing and history repeats itself as always, and it is in fact these mentioned ‘unimaginably vast forces’ of the Scepter that is the key to overthrow gods and steal their powers, and not the only Crown. The Crown simply assures that the wearer’s magic is out of reach from Mystra so they can do whatever they want, and it grants knowledge. Meaning, if Raphael has at least both the Scepter and the Crown, he could steal Asmodeus’s powers and go through with what his father could not achieve because his mischievous little son has been holding onto Scepter that is necessary to even wield and project those powers. He would become be the ruler of the Nine and gods know what else. It's not entirely out of the question that he might even have the Orb as well, seeing as we aren't really sure if Gale's Orb is the Orb.

Again, the Crown absorbs and attracts magical knowledge and it’s the key too using all of this naughty magic that Mystra doesn’t want you to mess with, but it does not seem like it actually gives you a whole lot of powers. It essentially just makes you know about it. What if the truly nasty stuff lies in the Scepter? It seems at the very least that the Scepter is necessary to truly harness and project the powers of the rest of the Regalia with any sort of precision.

(If you have any additions or corrections to my insane ramblings, feel absolutely free to add them and I’d love to read them)

#raphael the cambion #raphael bg3 #bg3 raphael #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #writing

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goldentemplariumcrow · 9 months

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As a stationery and fountain pen affictionada...

This. Still. Makes. Me. Laugh.

Let me explain why:

Look at how Tim is holding the pen. Stylistic choice or not, that grip means he's putting pressure on the pen. That he's heavy handing his writing.

Now look at the pen. That's a fountain pen. Fountain pens work through combined capillary and gravity action that makes the ink flow down to the nib naturally when the pen is in writing position and in contact with a writing surface; which is, depending on the model, between 45° and 60° angle in the vast majority of the cases.

Most fountain pens aren't made to sustain heavy hand writers. In fact, a great number of them is used to correct the grip, angle, muscle memory and heaviness of a person's handwriting style, since the simple act of touching the nib on paper easily makes the ink come out.

Now, look at Damian's implied facial expression and body language. Yes, we can all shrug it's just his rivalry with Tim that makes him react like that, it's a perfectly reasonable way to explain it all. However, for a fountain pen affictionado, for someone who loves fine writing instruments, that right there is a sentence of death.

Damian isn't just seeing Tim use his pen. He's seeing Tim, a person who couldn't care less for the writing tools he's using, obliterate the tines by placing way too much force on them. He's horrified of his favorite writing instrument being damaged by Tim's disregard with it, which is the most common reaction ever when any fountain pen lover sees their favorite pen being held and used by another person without their authorization.

Damian isn't overreacting at all.

The fountain pen community can confirm it.

[EDIT]

I know it's no ones concern, but as a lover of fountain pens, I kind of had to give a huge zoom-in in a version of this that isn't as pixelated and... guys, I think I know which fountain pen is this!

I may be wrong, but I think that's a Lamy Safari Black Charcoal model!

In the comic we can't see the window or the triangular grip very well (I can kind of see a shadow of the triangular shape, but I'm not calling it without being certain) and it looks a bit chonkier, but look at that cap! That minimalist cap with the sturdy yet simple, black clip and small gap on the top of the cap! That's a cap for a Lamy Safari model if I ever saw one!

Yes, maybe it can be some other fancier and more expensive brand, most Lamy's I've seen are between 30-60USD with special collections being a little closer to the 80USD mark on really expensive shops online, but let me make an argument for it.

A Lamy Safari fountain is considered a popular workhorse among affictionados and artists alike. Not only it's reliable, with a simple yet stylish body and construct that serves to pretty much every occasion, its construct is simple in terms of maintainance and handling. Want to go travel on a plane? No problem, take the cartridges with you! Prefer bottle ink? Not a problem at all, here's the converter for all your bottled ink needs! Oh, the standard medium nib isn't to your liking? Let's find one that you enjoy, there's European extra fine (0.38) to broad, stub, italic and even for writing musical score! Still not enough? Hey, there are many manufacturers that make their own customized nibs for a fair price, maybe give them a try? And the best part? The nibs aren't so expensive that you're breaking the bank with them, so if you break one you can get another with relative ease.

This sweet pen is a monster at work 24/7. No wonder it's a popular model among beginners and long term users and lover of fountain pens. They're just that good.

#damian wayne #damian al ghul #tim drake #robin #red robin #fountain pen #stationery

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