#but its objectively a stupid ass question

[phormlessblob]

never felt worse than when i had to ask my tutor how to cite ao3 as a source :/

[lover-of-mine]

Okay, I know y'all hate it, I don't need you to tell me that, but yeah, I don't read Eddie as gay, never have. And it's not because I don't think he can be gay, as much as I say it, I actually think it makes sense. But the thing here is that we are dealing with a procedural that is not about queer themes that never developed an Eddie storyline to its full potential. Sexuality is a spectrum and Eddie hasn't analyzed it further than what he can see because he had a wife and a kid and his whole life was about other people, and yes, a gay man can love a woman and enjoy the act of sex with women and still be gay, but to expect the show to explain that in a satisfying way is so ??? to me. I gotta bring it back down to the bare bones. Eddie believes he was in love with Shannon, the show tries to convince us he was in love with Shannon. The show also showed us that Eddie doesn't have the ability to look at his relationship with her objectively. So they are not gonna put to question if Eddie loved her or not. It's a lot easier for Eddie to just say he loved Shannon but Buck is his future than it is to put to question how exactly he loved Shannon after they spent 7 seasons showing how much loving Shannon fucked him up. Being a widower single father is Eddie's whole character construction. Realistically speaking, the show would make Eddie's character completely fall apart if he said he was fully gay because you think 50 yo Susan from Arizona who watched Eddie blow up his life chasing his wife's ghost would look at him saying he's gay and be like "oh, yes, sexuality is a spectrum, that is a brave man who was confused but still loved her" of course the fucking not. Susan is still wondering if Buck is gay or not. It's a lot easier to not put Eddie's past into question. It's why I'm such a die-hard for Eddie to stay unlabeled. Canon would fumble a gay arc for Eddie in such epic proportions that I prefer to not think about it as a possibility. Demi Eddie is my heart's truth tho, it explains Shannon, it explains Buck, it explains his relationships failing, but I also don't want Tim Minear anywhere close to it because he would ruin it. I'm not an Eddie is gay truther not because I don't see the merit of it but because the show would fumble it and I'm tired of watching them fumbling Eddie.

I also like to piss y'all off because I can't have a nuanced conversation about Eddie's sexuality without at least one of you showing up and being like 🤓 actually he is the gayest gay ever and he's known since he was a child and his parents are raging homophobes and he won't take it up the ass because it's a sin and you are stupid if you can't see gay is the only interpretation 🤓 and it annoys me.

[cravingrafe]

Summary: Reader has a special friendship situation with Ray Young.

Reader x ray young, and slightly reader x curtis young.

A/N: I haven’t written anything in years, but after watching Motorheads I really wanted to write something (very self-indulgent heh) Everyone is in their twenties, even though it isn’t explicitly said in the fic. Also, Harris is part of the group and a scorpio (don’t come at me). English is my third language, so apologies for any grammatical errors or weird sentence constructions🫶🏼

Warnings: Suggestiveness? No smut but some loose sexual descriptions.

Ironwood, late summer

You felt a light kick to your leg, which brought your intoxicated mind back into reality.

”Earth to Y/n!” You lifted your head that was resting on Zac’s shoulder to look at the man beside you. ”What?” you answered with playful annoyance, a faint laugh escaping your lips.

”Fuck, marry, kill: Caitlyn, Marcel and me,” Harris asked from beside you, his eyes red from the alcohol. You groaned, ”Do people still play that game?”

Curtis laughed from across the room. ”His scorpio ass just wants you to confirm that he’s sexy enough that you’d want to have sex with him,” he snorted.

”That’s not true, I want her to say that she’d marry me and have sex with me - don’t be stupid,” Harris said back before he nudged your leg again. ”Come on, it’s fun!”

You let out a sigh before glancing at the people in question. Caitlyn was seated on the floor across from you, smiling as she shook her head in disbelief of our friend, and Marcel, who was in charge of the music, sat on the floor to the right with his phone in his hand, cheeks red from either the alcohol or the topic of the discussion. You were all currently chilling at Ray Young’s house, which was something none of the crew members would have believed true if you would’ve told them about it six months ago. But then, you happened.

Caitlyn laughed while somehow simultaneously rolling her eyes at Harris’ desperate need of an ego boost. ”Just say that you’d marry and have sex with him and that you’d kill me and Marcel,” she sighed and gave the DJ of the night a cheerful look. “Marcel and I can rebuild old cars in the afterlife together.”

Zac let out a breathy laugh beside you, letting his head fall onto your shoulder. As it happened, your eyes met Ray’s from across the room, a faint smile painted on his rosy lips.

Despite Caitlyn’s faint attempts to stop the game, objections were loud in your left ear. ”No, no, just be honest! No one will take offence, right guys?”

”I’m not drunk enough for this,” you said as you stood up from the couch to make your way into the kitchen to grab more to drink, earning laughs from the people in the living room and one particular groan of defeat.

You would’ve liked to think of yourself as someone who could hold their liquor, but as you made your way into the kitchen you found that those three beers and that one glass of wine you’d had the past hour and a half did have some effect on you. Such lightweight, you thought to yourself as you poured yourself another glass of wine.

You liked the feeling a bit of alcohol in your system was able to provide. That feeling when the world’s hard edges turned a bit more soft, tongues got more loose and people’s souls more free. People tend to become more tender when they’ve had a few sips of alcohol, like they’re pouring some magical truth serum into their open mouths instead of lukewarm beer. There was something beautiful yet sad about it.

As you were about to turn around to go back to the others, you felt two warm hands on your hips and a body so close to your back that you felt its heat radiating off of it.

”Hey,” Ray’s breath was hot on your neck, and goosebumps appeared all over your body, making their way up your neck and down your legs, making you shiver. You put your wine glass down before turning around in his embrace. Your breath hitched when your eyes met his green ones. How they could be so intense yet soft at the same time remained a mystery, one that you’d be fine with never being solved as long as he kept looking at you like that.

”Hi,” you answered softly.

You felt your hips burn from the way Ray’s assertive yet gentle hands held onto you in a similar way you felt your cheeks heat up from the way he was looking at you.

”Listening to them in there, talking about having sex with you..” Ray spoke softly, his eyes going from your lips to your eyes, to your lips again, and you could see eagerness and lust in his gaze. He didn’t need to tell you what he wanted- you knew.

Ever since you became friends with the crew, you’d been the closest to Ray and Curtis, though you were good friends with all of them. It all had started about six months ago with your new friend, Curtis Young, inviting you to his family’s barbeque-night. It was during this particular night you got to meet his infamous older brother for the first time. Contrary to Curtis’ expectations, you and Ray got along well, and not long had passed before Ray found himself to be considered a part of the crew as a result of you asking Curtis to invite Ray to your hangouts and - unbeknown to you - Ray asking Curtis to be invited. It turned out that having Curtis’ big brother as a part of the crew wasn’t as weird as it may have seemed at first; he fit right in.

There seemed to be an invisible pull between you two, like opposite poles of two magnets that couldn’t stand to be apart. Unbeknown to Curtis, and the whole crew for the matter, you and Ray had been friends with benefits for about two months now, and it all had started because of a drunken conversation at night in his bed.

Confessions about craving sexual interaction lead to just that, sex. When you woke up that morning after being with each other for the first time, you were terrified that what you had done would ruin your friendship or the group dynamic. However, after airing out your feelings of the situation in bed while the morning sun warmed the sheets, you mutually decided to try a friends with benefits relationship to satisfy your needs - and so far it had been amazing. The fact that you practically lived at his garage by now was both beneficial and risky. There wasn’t any suspicion about you sleeping together since it was known that Ray helped you rebuild your car and therefore spending a lot of your spare time there. The fact that his house was only a stone’s throw from his garage was a welcome bonus, making it very convenient when wanting to work on your car inevitably turned into wanting to fuck.

If Curtis caught on to your special friendship arrangement, or to both your and Ray’s secret admiration for the other, he didn’t let it show.

And that’s how you ended up in this situation: Ray lowering his head to leave slow and wet kisses along your neck, resulting in you letting out a soft moan while his brother and your friends were in the next room.

Your hand came to grip a handful of his shirt, your eyes now closed with pleasure. ”Ray, don- fuck, don’t. What if someone walks in?” You felt yourself being at war, the heat between your legs growing by every second from Ray’s roaming hands and soft lips, but the thought of someone walking in on you kept you from giving into the pleasure. And oh, how you wanted to give in.

”Don’t you like the risk of getting caught, though?” he whispered against your neck, while one of his hands slipped down your front. You could feel a smirk forming on his lips because, yes, you did in fact like the risk of getting caught, and he, the smug bastard, knew that. He was now kissing your jaw, and god, you were giving in. You sighed, “Ray, oh, ple-”

”Ray! Y/n! Come on! We’re gonna play Mario kart!” Zac yelled from the living room, breaking the spell.

”Aah, fuck.” Ray put his forehead against yours and sighed. You stayed in that position for a beat before moving out of his embrace and grabbing your drink, heading towards the door. Not hearing footsteps behind you, you turned around to look at Ray with a raised eyebrow. ”Are you coming?”

As an answer, Ray let out a soft chuckle and bowed his head. Your eyes shifted to the front of his pants, and couldn’t help but give out a small giggle at the obvious tent.

”Hey, it’s not funny! What am I supposed to do now?” he exclaimed in a hushed voice, his eyebrows raised and what resembled a small pout on his lips. Something about his flustered demeanor made you ache to touch him, to give him the release both of you craved. It was, however, he who got you two in this situation in the first place by walking into the kitchen and kissing your neck. And so, you decided to have some fun instead.

”I’ll tell them you had to go to the bathroom,” you said with a wink before exiting the kitchen to rejoin the others in the living room.

That night you ended up in Ray’s bed, which felt like a second home by now. You always felt safe lying there with his warm arms around you. The rest of the crew were scattered around the house and garage, sleeping in or on whatever was deemed comfortable enough. You had made your way to Ray’s bedroom when you knew everyone else had fallen asleep, craving what you had almost had in the kitchen.

When the room had fallen dark and Ray’s sleepy breath tickled your neck, you struggled from underneath his warm body. The moonlight shone on the floor as you made your way towards the bathroom, only wearing one of Ray’s t-shirts. The air felt cold against your bare legs, but you didn’t mind.

Turning a corner in the dark house, your sore legs almost gave away from underneath you when you suddenly bumped into something hard.

“Ah! Shit!” a hushed but clearly surprised voice filled the quiet night air. With your hand on your chest, you looked up at Curtis’ face which was shadowed by the kitchen light behind him. His eyes were big when he first looked at you, then down at his own hand which had found its way around your waist in order to keep you from falling backwards, steadying you from the impact.

You realised that you were most likely being lit from the kitchen lights when you saw Curtis’ eyes take in your body before clearing his throat and letting go of your waist. Fuck, you were not wearing any pants.

Curtis took a step back while his right hand, the one that had previously touched your waist, went to his neck. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you,” he mumbled, trying to avoid meeting your gaze while his cheeks turned visibly crimson even in the darkness. A warmth spread in your chest at the sight for a reason you couldn’t explain. Even though he was yet to meet your gaze, you gave him a small smile.

“It’s fine, Curtis. I didn’t see you either,” you spoke softly while lightly tugging at the hem of your shirt; standing in only a t-shirt in front of a flustered Curtis started to make you feel exposed. You pointed behind him while starting to move your bare feet forward. “Well, I was just gonna go to the bathroom, so..”

Curtis looked you in the eyes for the first time since you bumped into each other. He moved to the side, his hand still playing with the hair behind his right ear. “Oh, yeah, of course,” he spoke as softly as you. “Good night.”

“Good night, Curtis,” you smiled back, waiting for him to start walking before you headed to the bathroom. Fuck, why did that have to happen? And then: Did he recognise his brother’s shirt?

When you crept into the warm sheets in Ray’s bed again, your mind wouldn’t let you fall asleep. To your dismay, the scene of Curtis’ gaze on your exposed body kept replaying before your eyes. He had looked so flustered by seeing you like that, but how could he have not? He had not asked for it. He was just surprised, that’s it.

Little did you know, Curtis laid on the living room couch trying to calm his heartbeat, trying to keep the image of your rosy cheeks and wild hair, the feeling of your waist against his hand and the way your t-shirt had ridden up on your thighs out of his mind. And failing miserably, he realised, as he felt himself grow hard. He buried his flushed face into his pillow while he let out a groan: he was so fucking screwed.

[gotholdladywithadhd]

Unpopular opinion, probably.

So I've read many metas, and thought a lot about it and have come to my own personal conclusion about the final 15.

I'm taking it at face value.

Because it was the most human Crowley and Aziraphale have probably ever been and I think that is at least part of the point. Love makes people stupid and they are navigating a very human thing in very unhuman circumstances, and it's hard enough to do as a human in human circumstances!

I think Aziraphale believed the Metatron about Crowley bc he was expecting the worst when TM mentioned Crowley but instead got the one thing he wanted most (him and Crowley together and safe, not Crowley being an angel. ) Crowley was absolutely the carrot here. (and no I do not think Crowley would have been safe or happy, but that's besides the point.) I can't tell you how many times I've believed patently ridiculous things because I wanted to believe them so badly even though if I was looking at the same situation objectively from an outside POV I would see how ridiculous it was, so I totally get it. This isn't to say I think Azi had a real choice to go to Heaven or not and I think he did understand that as well, but I get the temptation the Metatron threw out to him, I really do.

As for Aziraphale literally saying all the wrong things to try and get Crowley to come with him? Um yeah been there done that too, the nerves take over, the brain shuts off, the mouth goes into autopilot pulling stuff out its ass, and "WITAF did I just say?" happens.

Crowley not taking any of it well and only hearing what he expected to hear (I'm not good enough for you bc I'm a demon and you only really want me if I can be an angel) *and* also being more able to see through heavens bullshit bc he has lived it, and can see it from the outside, *and* all whilst being the most honest and vulnerable he has ever been with Aziraphale in 6,000 plus years (or in fact possibly to anyone, ever. the closest before this admitting he was lonely to Azi during the Job minisode,) *then* hearing what he took to be the same Heaven will save us line from Azi was enough to trigger a massive bout of RSD and a broken heart. Everything was supposed to "vavoom and sorted! " and instead the stupid awning broke and everything went wrong. I think I've said it before that at this point Crowley can't hear anything over the sound of his heart breaking into a million pieces.

That's a whole lot to pack into the brief moments before Azi has to leave with the Metatron (who let's be honest was rushing him before he could change his mind) esp when neither of them are used to discussing their relationship openly. They didn't have time to think, to ask questions, to share information, (like hey guess what really happened to Gabriel?) Crowley tried to communicate as much as he could about his feelings with the kiss but Azi didn't have the time to properly process all that and said the wrong thing again and Crowley was rejected (he thought) again and it all just went so very wrong. You can't fix a 6,000 year relationship in 15 minutes, you just can't no matter what the story books say.

It's about two people wanting the same thing but not being able to get it (yet) because of circumstances and personalities. All of S2 was about them seeming to be closer than ever (and in many ways they were) but really they were opposed at almost every turn. (in RL not the minisodes, those actually showed them working together and coming out okay mostly, if you don't count wee Morag or Crowley getting dragged to hell) The way they both handled the Gabriel situation, how they both worked to solve the mystery, even how they tried to make Nina and Maggie fall in love were all either done alone, or in opposite ways. I've said it before and I'll say it again, as it was pointed out right in ep1, their exactlies aren't the same and until they are, they aren't going to be able to be together. The one time they did work together in the season, they produced a 25 lazuri miracle. That is the point of the final 15, and the whole season 2 in my opinion.

They'll get there in the end though!

[bsdawgz]

「 ✦ Cruel ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Port Mafia: Dazai Osamu

a/n: follow-up from this fic, i hope i did ok! i really like writing pm dazai... also i wanna thank everyone who has followed me/liked/reblogged my posts. i really didn't expect to get any attention at all, so it means so much to me T_T and i will def get to writing ab the other characters soon~

genre: angst. so much of it. and the nasty.

content warning: f!reader. unrequited(-ish) feelings (but not rly). toxic ass relationship (like, RLY unhealthy), dependent relationship... i hope you don't find MC deplorable because personally i find her real af

MDNI! rough sex, choking, fingering, degradation both from dazai and self (bitch, slut), humiliation, trauma, bj (facefucking). dazai is rly rough with main character and not very communicative beforehand, but he checks up on character during. sex is consensual, but main character continues to force herself to do things she doesn't want to for the sake of wanting to please dazai (there is no pressure or coercion involved on dazai's part, to clear that up). if there's anything else you think i should add, please let me know.

summary: after failing to stop sleeping with the port mafia executive, dazai osamu, despite your unrequited feelings, you've come to terms with the fact that you can't bring yourself to leave him behind. but dazai's determined to show you there's nothing in him worth fighting for.

this place is all too familiar to you.

you’re bent over dazai’s desk and he’s towering over you from behind, pressed up against your body. there’s a haughty grin on his lips as he’s rucking up your skirt, grabbing your ass roughly and making you wonder when you began wearing short skirts all the time, if you’ve started doing it for the sake of easy access. after all, how many times in the past year that you’ve known this man has dazai actually taken the time to properly get you out of your clothes before fucking you, let alone gotten completely undressed for you himself? you could probably count it on one hand.

the thought makes you feel somewhat ashamed, knowing that you’re having routine sex with someone who won’t often do something as simple as strip naked for you. somehow the simple act of undressing feels all the more intimate, which makes you feel all the more distant from dazai, making him feel that much more removed in these fleeting moments you share. but of course, you don’t dare to mention it to him – not now, not ever. just let dazai’s hands roam where they wish, because more than anything, you want to please him. more than anything, you just want him to want you – whatever that might mean.

the last time you saw dazai, you had resolved to leave him for good, determining that your relationship was going nowhere. you were well-aware that dazai was only using you for sex, and that you were in the throes of an unrequited love with one of the most dangerous men in yokohama. but staving yourself off of a man like dazai, who could bring you in and out of heaven, was like trying to quit an addiction. you’ve never found yourself more attached to anyone in your life. it wasn’t long until you found yourself sleeping in his bed again. it was futile trying to fight it now.

“i said to look me in the eyes.” vicious words interrupt your thoughts, followed by an exasperated mutter of, “stupid bitch,” as you feel a few light slaps on your cheek. hands that once traveled up your skin so gently, caressing you and handling you like a fragile object, are now grabbing your neck and squeezing its sides, forcing you to meet his arrogant gaze. this is a different dazai than the one you know, a more cruel, more callous one. “ah, there’s my good girl,” he whispers coldly with a smirk, your jaw caught in his slender fingers as you now properly meet his gaze. “now, open your mouth for me… good. see how much prettier you are when you shut up and stop asking so many questions?”

he slips his thumb into your mouth, wetting it with your tongue before swiping your own saliva across your puckered lips.  “good… suck my fingers like the slut you are,” dazai murmurs erotically into your ear, his hot breath tickling your neck as he dips his fingers in and out of your mouth.  “this is what you want, right? what you keep coming back for.”

his words are mean tonight, like he’s punishing you for trying to get too close to him. vengeful, almost. although it’s quite typical of him to get impatient and even indifferent, dazai’s not the type to bring this kind of demeanor into the bedroom… at least, he’s never shown this side of himself before. but tonight he is more than determined to bare it all to you, to show you what he is really made of – and teach you to stay away from him, for good.

as he looks into your big, trusting eyes, which have never gazed at him with malice, he bitterly reflects on his decision. the vastness of those eyes of yours have never held anything but pure intentions and righteousness. they represent everything that he is not… and they hold the same values that got odasaku killed. you are a mere civilian who threw herself into the port mafia’s radar by sleeping with one of its infamous executives. at this point, your name has snaked its way into the mouth of dazai’s underlings; his enemies have readied themselves at your door. dazai was selfish to think he can keep you all to himself, his precious little treasure.

this was bound to happen, anyway. better that it ends now.

before you fool yourself into thinking a man like him can amount to anything more than a killer.

before your hands get soiled with blood.

before you’re shot dead…

… and before he’s convinced himself that he has a right to any of this. a right to see you, a right to hold you, a right to one day love you.

that’s why tonight, he’ll push you to your limits until you cry out in pain and pleasure; and when you’ve had enough of him and tell him to stop, he’ll leave wordlessly and never return, so you’re left only with the memory of his callousness and utter disregard for you.

gazing into the expectant eyes that are staring into his, dazai hikes his hands up your shirt to palm your breasts only to be surprised to feel nothing but bare skin. “no bra? you really are a slut, huh?” he shakes his head with a dry laugh as he tugs your shirt over your head, discarding the article of clothing on the floor. “always so desperate to be fucked.” nipples hardening at the brush of his hand, you bite back a sinful moan as he teases you with fleeting touches that send pulses to your core. the sight of you so vulnerable in his arms makes him hard; you feel his erection pressing into your back as he plays with your nipples. before you know it, those beautiful fingers of his are reaching for where you want him most – between your thighs, pushing aside your panties and sliding between your slickness.

he gasps mockingly as if he’s surprised you’re wet for him, an arrogant smirk forming on his lips. his hands know you well, his fingers finding the spot that makes you feel the best and rubbing in agonizingly slow circles. you can’t help but let his name roll off your tongue and let him know who you belong to, a quiet prayer on your tongue. succumbing to his touch so easily feels almost like a sin, but if it’s dazai, you’d do it in a heartbeat every time. even if it meant going to hell for it.

intoxicated by his cologne and blinded by his touch, when you feel his lips traversing your neck, you’re thinking to yourself like a fool: yes, this is how it should be. dazai’s awfully gentle now. this is how it should always be. you’re starved for him, begging for him to want you.

begging for him to love you.

but this man will never love you.

because this man is the devil.

“get on your knees, pretty girl.” there are those sweet words of his – ‘pretty girl.’ that term of endearment that he’s whispered affectionately against against your neck when his arms are wrapped around your waist at night, when it’s too dark to head home and you find yourself tangled under the sheets until daytime – those words that have confused you, that have left your brain a muddled mess, that offered you a glimpse into the gentleness that could be. tonight, there’s not a trace of kindness in his unyielding voice – nothing to confuse for kindness. his hands are rough, reckless. tossing you over, he faces you with a look that’s condescending and rotten. “get on your knees, and remind me why i keep you around in the first place.”

you’ll take it.

you’ll take it all –

– even if he’s hitting the back of your throat and gripping your hair so tightly that you can barely breathe, that tears are welling in your eyes, that you’re choking on him. you can hardly keep up with his pace, hands clawing at the floor in a desperate attempt to steady yourself. you’re a distraught mess, lips swollen from his shoving himself into you, saliva dribbling down your chin, an undignified whore. but you’ll take it. you’ll take it all, if that’s what it takes to keep him even for a moment more. you’ll squash the feeling that this is so, so wrong, the awareness that he’s fucking you like an object, the knowledge that you’re nothing but a piece of meat to him.

if that’s what it takes to keep him, even if just for a little longer –

– you’ll take it all.

but when he sees those tear-stained eyes of yours, he just can’t bring himself to do it anymore. he pulls out of your mouth completely, leaving you coughing uncontrollably and desperately gasping for breath. a wave of guilt washes over him, knowing that he put you in this condition in the first place. “come here,” he says harshly, trying to keep up his façade as his fingers dig deep into the flesh of your hips. he tosses you onto the bed, the spring mattress squeaking under your weight, then you feel his body against yours from behind as he covers your eyes with one large hand until you see nothing but black. “don’t tell me you still like this?” he asks in a serious tone. he’s so close to you that you can hear his soft pants against your neck, feel the heat radiating from his skin; he must still be worn out from before.

but you say nothing, nothing at all, your lips sealed in a tight line.

he scoffs at your silence, his grip on your body loosening. “use your words. aren’t you going to tell me to stop?”

you turn to look at him, and your gaze finally meets his once more. your eyes are clouded with tears, your cheeks flushed, your lips trembling. but your eyes are unwavering. that grotesque look that he just can’t stand – those big eyes, still full of devotion, unconditional resolve. eyes that are full of nothing but righteousness. he’s the source of your pain, and yet you look at him with nothing but kindness. you look at him as though he can offer you some sort of salvation —

but this man can’t even save you from himself.

“i’m… i’m not.” your voice is meek, a sob escaping you.

you find your body shaking frantically, suddenly hyper-aware of your nakedness and the fact that dazai’s practically completely clothed.

he takes a seat next to you on the bed and wraps a blanket around you, deep brown irises staring into your eyes dubiously, as though he can’t believe a word that you’re saying. then, reaching out to cradle your face gently in his hand, he strokes your cheek with his thumb. his tender caress makes you sick to your stomach and you feel bile rising in your throat – you wish he would go back to fucking you senselessly and calling you names, if only just to make this cruel fantasy go away.

“don’t touch me like that anymore!” you suddenly blurt out of spite, shoving dazai away angrily. “don’t you know how confusing you’re being right now?” you cover your face in your hands like a child just to keep him from seeing you break down, as if you could possibly hide your stifled cries and the tears streaming down your stained cheeks.

“i see,” he says in a quiet voice, hesitating as he retracts his hand. there’s a grimace on his face as he withholds his words, resisting the urge to say something, anything, to ease the pain. but he knows there’s nothing he could say to take back all that’s been done. a tension hangs in the air, disrupted only by the sound of your shaky breath as you heave into the palms of your hands, pressed firmly over your mouth to silence your heartbroken cries. bending over in pain, there’s an empty pit in your chest as you crawl into his lap like a kicked-down dog. dazai makes no movement to get up, just lets you fall against him and hums softly to comfort you, stroking the tendrils of your hair like a wandering ghost.

when your tears finally subside, leaving nothing but your shattered memories, you glance up at him only to find he’s been gazing at you the whole time. on his face, there was a pained expression. something like regret for the past, or maybe even the future.

he looked as though he had been crying, too.

(c) BSDAWGZ Don't steal or plaigarize cos that's mean... and if you enjoyed the fic, please share! Remember, likes don't share my work, reblogs do! ^^~ Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!

[magicalbats]

Kinktober 2024 Day 3: Al-Haitham x Reader

Rating: R-18+

Word Count: 6757

Warnings: Afab!reader, gendered language, power dynamics, petplay, collaring, predicament bondage, spanking, vaginal fingering, tail butt plug, object insertion

A/N: A few people asked for a follow up to Al-Haitham's piece from last years Kinktober and I'm personally always glad for any excuse to write about more petplay scenarios, so here we are! I hope everyone enjoys! 🫣

⭐

“So,” He intones, casually slouched to one side so he can brace his shoulder against the door jamb. With his arms crossed over his chest he looked the picture-perfect image of idle, confident arrogance standing there before you in the faint glow of a nearby street lamp. It was enough to almost make you sick. “You really decided to muster up the courage and come here after all. Consider me impressed.” 

Hands balled into tight, sweaty fists in the front of your breezy skirt, you pointedly keep your eyes downcast so you won’t have to look him in the face. Damn Al-Haitham and damn you for being fool enough to go through with this stupid idea. Hadn’t he humiliated you more than enough the last time? 

“Is that alright? I could always come back some other day …” 

“Don’t be ridiculous. You’re already here, why send you away?” Straightening up, Al-Haitham shifts to the side to unblock the entrance to his home and grant you entry despite looking anything but welcoming. “Come in. And try not to look so scared.” 

You can feel your cheeks quickly growing hot enough to fry an egg on but you stubbornly shove aside all the uncertainty and ill opinions you had of the scribe in favor of focusing only on your objective. Of course that was in many ways exactly what had gotten you into this mess in the first place, yet it seemed you still hadn’t quite learned your lesson. You wouldn’t have shown up at his doorstep like this otherwise. 

Steeling yourself, you stiffly move forward to shuffle past him to stand just inside his foyer while he closes the door behind you. His home isn’t particularly large but it's finely furnished and surprisingly quaint in its own way. You wonder at that as you take in the decor, noticing an odd disconnect between one piece of furniture or knickknack and the next. While some of it was quite stylish other bits and bobbles leaned more towards an eclectic taste that didn’t seem to match. 

And then your eyes land on the neatly lined up row of shoes just off the main entrance. 

Two different sizes. 

“Don’t worry. My roommate is out on business tonight.” He says, supplying an answer to the unasked question, and you bring your head up with a quick snap. 

“I didn’t know you had a roommate.” 

His hand is suddenly right in front of your face when you turn towards him, making you startle, but he merely slips those long fingers underneath your chin to further nudge your attention up at him. Verdant gaze studying you closely, Al-Haitham searches your expression for a drawn out beat — for what, you do not know — before deigning to speak again. “Well, I do. Have one I mean. He won’t be bothering us any time soon though, so tell me what it is you want.” 

Your natural disinclination for him quickly rears its ugly head, and you narrow your eyes up at him in annoyance. “How do you know I want something?” 

“Please. You wouldn’t have come here if you didn’t. Now spill it.” 

Clicking your tongue, you irritably pull away from him and take a step back to put some distance between you two. Hopefully that would be enough to give you a chance to think straight, even though it was clear you hadn’t been doing much of that at all recently. “Look. I know you and I don’t exactly get along even under the best of circumstances but … do you recall what you said to me back in the Grand Sage’s office?” 

“My office, at least for the moment, and yes. I said a great many things to you that day. Which are you referring to specifically?” 

“Gods, you’re such an ass.” You murmur, wondering why you’d even come here when you knew good and well how he was. It’s much too late to start giving this second thoughts though, so you lift your chin in defiance of his surly attitude. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Acting Grand Sage, but I believe you told me I could come to you if I ever wanted a refresher course on our last — lesson. Does that offer still stand?” 

“Oh?” Looking really quite smug now, Al-Haitham allows his roguish mouth to curl into a brief smirk. “Is this supposed to be your way of asking nicely for something? Gotta’ say, your methods could still use some work but I can see we’re making progress. It’s better than the last time, at least.” 

“Are you going to answer the question or not?” You demand, feeling your jittery nerves start to get the better of you. 

If you’d had any other option here you would have gladly taken it before ever subjecting yourself to this particular man’s presence ever again but you just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about the time you’d spent with him in his office. By the end of it you’d been all but preening at his soft spoken praise only to then be cast back out into the real world where people in polite society didn’t talk to each other like that. It was maddening in the worst possible way. 

Worst of all, he still hadn’t signed off on that damn expense sheet even after saying he’d give it another look and yet that seemed to be the farthest thing from your mind anymore. The only thing you really wanted at this point was to experience the same warm buzz of satisfaction you’d felt when he spoke to you in that uncharacteristically soft, doting manner as before. Was that seriously too much to ask for? 

“Just relax. We really need to work on that impatient streak of yours.” He says, evidently recognizing the frazzled look on your face for what it is. “And don’t worry, my offer still stands. I’ll play with you again. Good timing, actually. I recently bought a few things at the bazaar that I think you might like.” 

“Huh?” You blurt, turning to follow him with your eyes when he brushes past you into the rest of the house. “Don't tell me you actually knew I’d come here like this?” 

“That’s a bit of a stretch. All I did was calculate the odds that you would eventually decide to seek me out again, so the expense was justifiable despite being preemptive. Get undressed while I grab everything and wait for me until I get back.” 

And just like that he’s gone, disappeared down the hallway into a room on the far end of the house by the sound of it. 

For a long moment you just stand there, too stunned at Al-Haitham’s gall to take action. You weren’t sure who he thought he was but as usual it was already giving you a headache. Nothing ever went as you hoped it would whenever he was involved. 

Rousing yourself though, you quickly get to work. Far be it that you were any more comfortable with the thought of being naked in front of him than you were the first time, but you’d known what you were signing up for when you chose to come to him like this. And you’re glad to find it’s a little easier without him standing there, looming over you like some scrutinizing gargoyle while more and more of your body is slowly revealed to him, so there was that perk. If anything you were just glad he hadn’t sent you away. 

But once you find yourself standing nude in his living room some of the uncertainty starts to come back. Just what the hell were you doing here? And how were you supposed to position yourself, should you sit or stand? Did he expect you to seamlessly fall into the role of obedient dog again even if he wasn’t there to guide you through the process like before? 

There was no clear cut solution to any of these problems you now faced, and you at last decide to err on the side of caution. You would prostrate yourself for him, since he seemed to get so much satisfaction out of that, but you’d wait for further instruction before doing anything else. It was undeniably silly, but you didn’t want to seem too eager. 

Thus when Al-Haitham returns after another moment or two, he finds you kneeling on the ornate rug laid out across the floor with your legs neatly folded underneath you. He noises a soft sound of acknowledgement as he strides across the room and you attentively zero in on the wooden box he’s got in his hands. 

“What’s that?” You chance to ask, earning a quick, vaguely amused look from him. 

“I wasn’t aware dogs knew how to speak to ask such questions of their masters.” 

Flushing all over again, you breathe out a soft huff through your nose but remain otherwise silent. You’re much more interested in observing him anyway, particularly when he sinks down to sit on the nearby sofa before placing that mysterious box next to him on the cushions. 

Then the full brunt of his attention is back on you. “Come here.” He commands, indicating the spot next to his feet. 

You catch yourself starting to prickle, your pride almost getting the better of you once again, but you quietly remind yourself that this was what you’d wanted. After being hounded by indecent thoughts for weeks now, all of them revolving around the scribe, there was no point making any qualms about it or pretending otherwise. 

So you somewhat grudgingly shift forward to brace on your hands and knees before crawling over to him. You’re acutely aware of the sway of your breasts while you do so, particularly when he was watching you do it and no doubt seeing every little detail of your body in this humiliating position, both the good and the bad. The crippling note of self consciousness that shudders through you is not nearly enough to douse your anticipatory excitement though, and you hesitantly tip your face towards him as you shuffle up to the sofa, earning a nod of approval. 

“Sit.” 

Obediently plopping your ass down on the carpet, you make a point of straightening your back for him to push your bare tits up and out. You felt incredibly foolish for being so concerned about his opinion of your body but that lingering sense of stubborn combativeness quickly fades when he reaches out to pet over your head with an indulgent gesture. 

“Good girl. I have something for you.” 

Feeling fuzzy and warm, you blink up at Al-Haitham through the growing fog as he reaches for the box. That he makes a point of opening the lid towards you so that you can’t see what’s hidden inside almost manages to annoy you but you quickly stamp it down in favor of simply watching him. With a faint rustle, he lifts what you immediately recognize to be a collar from inside and silently presents it to you, just observing your reaction. 

The flustered look on your face must be an interesting one though, because he chuckles a brief laugh only a moment later. “Do you know what this is?” 

Reluctantly nodding, you shoot him a wary look. 

“Excellent. Then I shouldn’t have to waste any time on explaining it.” 

His large, dexterous hands get to work on unfastening the little eyelet so he can pull it open while you frantically try to rationalize this in your mind. Unaware of how hard your heart is pounding in your chest, he leans down to wrap the surprisingly thick band of leather around your throat so he can secure it into place at the back and you just sit there as if in a numb stupor while he does it. 

You couldn’t believe this was really happening … 

“As long as you’re wearing this,” He drawls, still fiddling with the catch to ensure it was sufficiently snug on your neck. “You’ll be my pet and I expect you to act accordingly. I won’t hesitate to punish you if you misbehave but … I also won’t hesitate to reward you either. We can play this game as long as you’d like, and when I take this off we’ll go back to our usual roles. No questions asked. Does that sound fair to you?” 

You slowly nod your agreement, suddenly finding it incredibly difficult to even think a coherent thought. As if being collared by him had effectively pulled a hazy, disarming shroud over your head, you were struggling to formulate anything at all in your mind when the only thing you could seem to focus on was the brush of his hands against your skin, the smell of him. The domineering way he’s leaned over you from his elevated position and the close proximity that came with it. You’d understood on some innate, instinctive level that you wanted him to subjugate you to his will again but you hadn’t expected it to have such an all encompassing effect on you. It was as if your higher functioning ego was slowly slipping away, like sand through your fingertips. 

And when he at last deems the collar to be adequately secured, leaning back to look at you with an unreadable expression, you positively quake under the spotlight of his attention. Al-Haitham may have been able to irritate you far beyond what any other person had ever accomplished, but when he looked at you like that … Archon’s, you would have done anything he asked of you if it only meant he’d praise you for it. 

“You’re certainly being good this evening. Guess you must have really needed this.” His eyelashes drooping to attractive half mast to mirror a very small fraction of the anticipation you were currently feeling, he reaches out to casually flick at the metal ringlet attached to the front of your new collar. “It’s just as I thought. Pink really does suit you. That being said, you have no idea how long it actually took me to find one of these in this color. You should probably thank me for it.” 

You shoot a quick, hungry look at his lap, the muscles in your legs already bracing to lean forward and put your mouth on him, but he stops you in your tracks with another quiet chuckle. 

“Not like that, though I do appreciate your enthusiasm. As long as you continue to be good for me I think we’ll be just fine.” Straightening up from his comfortable slouch, Al-Haitham then reaches back into the box to dig for something else. The sound of metal clinking together makes your heart skip a beat and you anxiously fidget there on the floor while he pulls out a long, complicated string of chains that all seem to connect in the same spot. 

Having no idea what to make of it, you blithely glance up at him in question. 

“This is to help you stay in position. Think of it like a training aide.” 

Evidently that’s all the explanation you’re going to get and you swallow hard, nearly choking on your nerves, when he leans down again. With a simple gesture of his hand, Al-Haitham secures the topmost latch to the front of your collar. The links are slight enough that it doesn’t add much additional weight to your neck, which you’re rather grateful for, but you can tell that they’re still sturdy enough not to break easily.

You start to understand what’s happening in a far off, dreamy sort of way when he reaches for one of your hands next. Directing it up to about chest level, he makes quick work of securing the thin cuff on one of the other trailing chains around your wrist to keep it elevated, lest you pull unnecessarily on the collar should you try to bring it back down again. He repeats the process on the other side to leave you in an approximation of the same begging position he’d made you assume last time, and you just let him do it because … you have no idea why. 

By all accounts this should have been setting off every single alarm bell in your head but it just doesn’t. If anything, your fast thrumming excitement only ratchets up another notch to leave you all but vibrating there at his feet. 

And when he finally settles back to take up the last chain, this one longer than all the rest, you immediately recognize what it is. A leash. One that he wraps the excess length around his knuckles before slowly tugging on it to pull you up to your knees. A shuddering moan slips out as you rock forward under the steady guidance of his gentle yet insistent pulling with your hands uselessly restrained in front of your chest. This was so incredibly dehumanizing … 

“Good girl. You look lovely like this.” His mouth faintly curling again, Al-Haitham reaches out his opposite hand to casually flick his finger back and forth over one of your tightly coiled nipples. “Feeling comfortable?” 

Helplessly mewling, you force your sluggish head to bob in agreement. This was too much and yet somehow not nearly enough at the same time. You felt like you were going mad. 

“On the floor then. All the way.” 

Tense and shirking, you slowly ease back to sit on your haunches before carefully leaning forward to brace your arms on the rug. You have to go slow or risk yanking on your collar, and the insidious nature of this set up quickly makes itself known. Not only were you effectively restrained and at his mercy like this, but the short length of the chains forces you down close to the ground to leave your backside pointed up in the air. Completely defenseless and vulnerable. He could have done anything at all to you in this position. 

The thought alone is enough to make you tremble uncontrollably, and you suck in a deeply frazzled breath when you feel him lean over you again. His hand finds your ass to smooth over it before giving you an encouraging pat that only seems to rush straight to your slicking cunt, making you whine low in your throat. What was he going to do to you when the possibilities seemed limitless and each one made you feel that much more desperate than the last? 

You soon get your answer when he silently withdraws his palm only to bring it back down on the meat of your backside in a stinging, hard handed swat. The suddenness of the slap shocks you more than the actual sharp burst of pain does, and you rock forward with a startled squeak. But he’s quick to do it again, targeting the other cheek this time, to make you mewl and fitfully squirm on the floor. 

“Don’t move.” He warns, giving the now aching skin a mean squeeze. “I’m just going to get you warmed up first before the main event, but if you decide not to be good for me I’ll have to really punish you. Surely you don’t want that, do you?” 

Half delirious, you slowly shake your head and the resulting clink of the chains rattling with the motion further highlights your position here. Even if you’d wanted to fight it there was nothing you could do with your hands secured as they were, nowhere for you to run when you were stark naked and effectively trapped in his home. All you can do is kneel there and take it, feeling your ass jolt in the air when he brings his hand down again to spank across your sit spots in rapid succession before focusing back in on the fattest part of your behind. 

What was initially a briefly sharp starburst of pain quickly morphs into a constant, throbbing sting that seems to spread across your whole backside while he peppers back and forth between your cheeks over the next some odd minutes. It seems to stretch on for an eternity but, logically, you knew it must have only lasted for a short while. Just enough to warm up the skin and leave it tender in the wake of his hand. That’s what he’d said, anyway. 

And you’re so far gone in the hazy stupor you’d slipped into that you couldn’t even fully grasp just how humiliating this really was. Being forced into such a position with your ass shamelessly presented for him to do whatever he liked and yet he chose to spank you. You’d probably be furious with him later on, and rightfully so, but in this particular moment the only thing you can bring yourself to care about is how turned on it was making you. 

The single other instance you could recall where you’d been quite this worked up was the last time you and him had played this game, sequestered away in the relative privacy of the Grand Sage’s office. Never before and never since. 

Here you had real privacy though and a much smaller chance of discovery, particularly if what he’d said about his mysterious roommate being out for the night was true. And it’s clear Al-Haitham plans to take full advantage of the freedom allotted to him by doing this in his own home, because no sooner does he finally pull his hand from your throbbing ass do you feel his fingers descend upon your cunt. 

Yelping a mindless sound of startled delight, you eagerly arch your spine and rear back on his hand in humble supplication for more. He laughs a low, rumbling sound at the display even as the rough pads of his fingertips skirt down the seam of your labia to rub sedate circles over your clit. The gesture quickly makes you realize exactly how soaked you are with copious arousal when he smears it across your pussy lips in the process, making an even bigger mess of you. 

Bless the gods, but you were going to cum in record time. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now, trembling like that with my handprints all over your ass. If it weren’t for your usual attitude I’d even say you look like you were made for this. Do you enjoy it when I touch you here?” 

You let out a needy, faltering groan and jerk your head in a quick nod, making the chains jostle again. 

“Then let me hear you, darling girl. Speak.” 

It’s a real struggle to think clearly when he was still intently drawing his fingers over that sensitive pleasure button but your cotton stuffed head somehow manages to parse what he was asking of you. It was the same as last time. The same ‘trick’ he’d taught you in his office. The memory of idiotically barking like a dog had kept you awake many a night since, and not for the reasons you would have liked … 

You absolutely hate how much it excites you, your cheeks flushing incomprehensibly hotter even as you hang your head low and force out a weak, “Wh - woof!” 

“Oh? Is this not to your liking? My apologies then. Perhaps you want it here instead?” Abandoning your clit, Al-Haitham trails his fingers further up to your entrance where he quickly sinks one of those sinuously long digits into your cunt, forcing the inner sleeve of your body to stretch open around him. 

Stiffly lurching at the unexpected penetration and the jolt of friction that comes with it, you desperately ball your hands into tight fists against the rug in an attempt to ground yourself. “Woof! Woof wh - oof! Ahhn!” 

“Mmm, pretty sounds for a pretty girl. And so tight too. Don’t tell me you haven’t been playing with yourself at all since our last session? Too embarrassed or … were you just waiting for me to be the one to play with this needy little pussy for you?” 

You try to bark again, knowing he was likely to stop if you didn’t, but you can’t quite seem to find enough oxygen to do so. Your lungs were constricting much too tight with the short, labored gasps you rapidly suck in as the tension inside your cunt dizzyingly swells to near discomfort. You were beyond soaked, and the sticky wet clicks he pulls from your shuddering body when he adds a second finger only attests to that. The obscene schlucking sound that starts up when he begins to fuck you with them seems to echo in the space between your ears, adding to the total onslaught to your senses. All you could do was squeal helpless, dire tinged animal noises into the static charged room while he mercilessly pounds into you from behind. 

“Are you going to cum for me already, sweetheart? Gonna’ squirt all over this carpet just like you did on the one in my office? Huh?” 

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, neither slowing down nor ceasing his ministrations for even a moment, and your eyes soon begin to roll back when your impending orgasm suffocatingly bears down on you. The building pressure was too much, the deliberate jabs of his fingers far too concentrated on that receptive bundle of nerves within you. Your body simply couldn’t take it even as you continue to gush excessively around the intrusion, and then all at once the scales seem to tip. 

You cum with a shuddering jerk, frantically wailing in pleasure when you feel your pussy give out to release a fresh deluge of slick. Screwing your eyes shut, you deliriously ride out the juddering waves of pleasure that sweep over you in a torrent as your squeezing cunt uncontrollably erupts around Al-Haitham’s fingers, having once again expertly coaxed you to this unseemly state. It was like being stretched too thin on such a bone deep level that by the time you finally start to come down from the reeling high another moment later you barely even know who you are anymore. 

All that seems to register in your punchdrunk mind is his unmistakably masculine presence hovering over you, his hand slowly withdrawing from your cunt with a messy wet slurp that makes you sensitively twitch. The smell of him, his taste on the back of your tongue. In retrospect it was no wonder just that one fateful encounter with him had ruined you so irreparably. 

How in the world had you not seen it sooner? He was the singularly most infuriating man you’d ever met, yes, but he was also the only person you’d ever known who seemed to understand you better than you understood yourself. You hadn’t even thought you were capable of squirting before this. Damn him. 

Issuing a groggy groan into the rug, you slowly begin to stir from your semi comatose state. You weren’t sure when exactly you’d pressed your cheek into the floor but you force your head up as primly as you can manage given the circumstances. And still trembling with the lingering remnants of your release, you shoot a cautious look underneath you only to grimace when you spot the telltale wet stains bleeding into the carpet. Unfortunately you’re not allowed much of a chance to recover or find your bearings though, and you give a faint hiss when Al-Haitham nudges your attention up at him with a firm tug to the leash. 

That he still looks frustratingly cool and collected despite everything that had just transpired bothers you a great deal but you stubbornly keep those thoughts to yourself. He was going to get an ear full from you later. The least he could have done was put a towel down instead of purposely embarrassing you like this again! 

“Doing good so far?” Luckily he seems to take your nod at face value, and he reaches out to brush a bit of hair away from your face with an unexpectedly tender stroke of his hand. “Good. I’ve got something else for you, if you feel up to it.” 

Rousing from your hazy delirium a bit more, you somewhat roughly clear your throat after not using your voice for so long before venturing to speak. “I know I’m supposed to be playing a role here but I have to ask. When exactly did you find the time to plan all of this? You seem suspiciously well prepared.” 

“It’s not so much that I planned it, but rather I simply followed through on an idea that already existed.” He says, earning a skeptical lift of your brow, and he quietly clicks his tongue when he realizes he’s going to have to offer up a better explanation than that. “You seem to remember everything else I said the last time so I’m surprised you don’t recall this. I told you if I’d had some warning beforehand I would have purchased a few things in advance. Well, I decided that I wouldn’t be caught unawares again. If you came to me I  wanted to be ready.”

“The collar.” You murmur, idly reaching up to touch it with a brief rattle of the connecting chain. “You did say that, didn’t you? What else do you have in there?” 

“Want to find out?” 

Shooting him a wary glance, you consider your options here. It sounded like he’d let you go if that was what you wanted after already having gotten off once, which was unexpectedly conscientious of him, but … were you really satisfied with just that? You’d thought about this almost nonstop for weeks and now that you were in front of him, collared and kneeling at his feet, you weren’t so sure you were ready to call it a night just yet. 

Besides, he still hadn’t made any attempt to see to his own needs and the low simmering pulse in your cunt hadn’t been fully satiated. Perhaps if you played along a little longer he’d stretch you out and stuff you full with something hopefully a bit more substantial than his fingers. A girl could certainly hope, at least. 

“Alright. I’m listening.”

“That's a good pet.” He murmurs, sticking his hand out to lightly palm over your head and you don’t stop long enough to reconsider it before nuzzling into the gesture with a soft purr. It seemed your earlier impression was correct. As long as he kept praising you, you’d do anything he wanted. 

Pulling back, Al-Haitham directs his attention back around to the contents of the box again. You listen to him dig for something, wondering how many items he’d actually purchased for the sake of being prepared, but you can’t quite see what he finally pulls out from your position on the floor. Even when you try to crane your neck up for a quick look the only thing you can make out is him fiddling with something. 

“This might be a bit cold at first.” He warns. 

That’s all the notice you get before he leans over you, hand stretching out on a sure and steady trajectory towards your backside, and you outright squawk when you feel him smear something sticky over your asshole. He does it so casually, such idle surety in the motion, that it sends your heart shooting up into your throat. 

Mewling a soft sound of confusion, you shudderingly try to twist around on the floor to see what he’s doing but he just follows you when you angle away. His ministrations don’t even falter while he continues to smear that mysterious wet goop over your puckered hole to thoroughly coat you in it, your uncertainty growing by the second when understanding starts to dawn. 

Surely he wasn’t — 

“Don’t tense up. You need to relax.” He murmurs, slowly rubbing over your ass with concentrated strokes now to encourage the muscle to loosen. 

Oh, he most certainly was. 

“W - w - wha - -“ 

“No words now, pretty girl. Unless it’s to tell me to stop and that you don’t want to do this anymore, I’m not interested in hearing it. You’re going to be a good pet for me, aren’t you?” 

Whimpering, you screw your eyes shut and try to focus on your breathing. That was easier said than done though, of course. You weren’t used to being touched like this and the prospect of having something inserted up your ass makes you far more nervous than anything else he’s done to you this evening. But it’s clear that was what he’s working his way up to, especially when he starts to carefully prod at the center wrinkle where the tight muscle begins to slacken and give way. He only taunts you with it though, never quite fully slipping his finger inside to penetrate you, and instead he focuses on merely teasing around the interior rim. 

You quickly realize he’s making sure you’re as well coated with that slippery lubricant on the inside as you are on the outside, and it becomes that much harder to keep your head on straight. 

Positively squirming when he at last pulls away some time later to leave your asshole sticky and loosened, you seethe into the rug while you listen to him dig something else out of the box. You have a few guesses in mind, naturally, but nothing quite prepares you for when you crack your eyes open at his behest only to find him dangling a long, fluffy tail in front of your face. 

Attached to the other end is what you can safely assume to be a plug based off the smooth, rounded tip that widens out into a bulbous base before then narrowing down to a thinner stem. The faux fur appendage dangles tauntingly from the bottom of it, and you softly groan at the full bodied shudder that tears through you. He really was going to put that thing inside your body. 

“Take a deep breath for me and let it out slowly. That’s it. Again. Such a good girl you’re being. I want you to focus on relaxing into it and bear down when I tell you to, alright?” 

At your faltering nod of understanding, in far too deep to back out now, Al-Haitham scoots to the very edge of the sofa and leans over you again. Using one hand to spread your sore cheeks open, he brings the plug close with the opposite to gently touch you with it. You jolt at the contact like he’d electrocuted you but quickly still again with an anxious little sob. Helpless to do anything else, you just kneel there at his feet and accept what’s happening while he lazily draws the toy through the excess lubricant he’d smeared all over you. 

When he finally starts to push in on the slackened pucker after another drawn out moment you go stockstill at the unfamiliar pressure, gasping roughly into the carpet. He softly tuts at you, encouraging you to calm down with soft words of praise, but it’s hard. Almost impossible when this was completely foreign to you and the slow stretch of yet untested muscle seems so debilitatingly sharp even in your punchdrunk state that you don’t know what to make of it. 

It doesn’t hurt though, you’re quite relieved to find. Just uncomfortable and more than a little strange, particularly when you could feel your asshole slowly losing the fight. There was too much lube for you to reject it and keep him out, the plug sufficiently smooth to make the penetration more of an easy glide than you’d expected it to be. In tortuous slow motion, he makes you take one millimeter at a time until your hole is stretched wide around the thickest part before gradually pulling back to repeat the process. 

Again and again, he makes your body open up to him before at last issuing the command for you to push. You almost don’t do it, unsure if you even could when the once tight ring of muscle felt so horribly strained, but with a low groan you comply. At the same time you bear down on the intrusion he gives it a quick push, and all at once the whole thing slips inside you straight down to the base. You rock forward with a haggard gasp, mindlessly jutting your ass up in the air as you weakly squeeze around the narrow stem only to realize that it was already too late. 

The toy was firmly wedged inside you now and taking up space that only seems to highlight how very empty your pussy is. He pulls back to admire his handiwork, letting the long tail settle against your soaked cunt with a faint brush of the fur. Trembling almost violently, you dig your toes into the rug and nudge your pelvis up as if you were little more than a bitch begging to be mounted. 

You really didn’t want to think about how apt that comparison actually was right now. 

“Just look at you, darling girl. I can tell how much you’re enjoying this from here,” He says, breaking through the delirium just enough for you to pick up on the vague note of satisfied awe creeping into his voice. Like he couldn’t believe you’d really allowed this to go so far, or maybe he was just finally starting to notice the effect this was having on his own body. It was hard to say with him. 

Groaning fitfully, you press your hot face into the ornate rug and give your ass a brief, supplicating shake. The tail shifts with the motion where it dangles down between your legs, brushing your pussy just so, but it’s not nearly enough to feel good. If anything it just makes you more desperate for his attention, his hand, his cock. Whatever he wanted to give you would have sufficed.

But of course Al-Haitham doesn’t relent and give you what you want. He never does, not directly anyway, and you seethe through your teeth when you feel him stand up from the sofa to loom over you. 

“Sit for me.” 

Blinking through the disorienting fog, you gingerly comply. Push up onto your forearms and get your knees adjusted under you before slowly sitting upright even when you dizzily sway with the motion. The change in position seems to make the plug feel even bigger where it’s keeping your ass stretched open around its width, and you faintly groan at the sensation. 

Al-Haitham is as unreasonable and demanding as ever though, and he barely allows you enough time to get situated in front of him before issuing his next command. “Good. Now beg.” 

The mere thought of assuming that position again makes you wince, your body already a mess of aches and pains, and throbbing arousal, but you comply with this too. It takes a bit of effort on your part to get your legs to cooperate but you eventually manage, somehow. 

And once you’re squatted before him, precariously balancing on your toes with your hands securely fastened up by your chest, you look to him for his next order. You no longer have any wherewithal left to feel at all embarrassed or ashamed of having your cunt on display like this, nor do you have it in you to second guess any of it. All you knew with certainty was that you were drowning in it, this hazy feeling of absolution that seemed to rend you to pieces and mend you back together again in the same breath. Perhaps it was a bit fatalistic, yes, but you’d never felt quite so sexually satisfied in all your life. 

Especially when he smiles, pinning you with one of those exceedingly rare, genuine little tugs of his mouth to indicate that he was pleased with you. It’s fleeting and short lived but you don’t miss it by a long shot as he proceeds to gently pull on your leash to make sure he’s got your attention.  

“Wag for me, pretty girl? Think you can do that?” 

You don’t stop to rethink this either. You just do it, struggling to shake your ass in this awkward balancing act to feel the tail swishing back and forth on the floor underneath you. It’s humiliating and dehumanizing in equal measure, but you would have gladly done that and so much more just to earn another doting pet of his hand, another soft word from his mouth. 

Al-Haitham had awakened something inside you that day in his office, and now you were his responsibility. For better or worse, he was your master and you his obedient, loyal pet.

⭐

Crossposted: here

[painfully-painful-pain]

Poorly written lengthy Review of The Sims 2 Castaway for Nokia Phones.

Alternate title: I played The Sims Castaway for Mobile so you don't have to. Also I'm too scared to record my voice for a video.

I played another Sims Nokia game because I don't know what to do with my life 💙 so what better way to celebrate finishing another sims game than to force this post on peoples feeds. The game's exhausting and I'm pretty much done with it internally. This time it will be A LOT longer and have a bit more depth to it as I wrote everything while I played it (instead of writing it after I did) so. This will be an EVEN LONGER review than the sims DJ one. I hope you brought.... Good eyes.

Doubt anyone's gonna read this but I'm putting this out there if anyone ever comes across my account or something idk.

The Gameplay

This game is actually touch! Meaning you don't really need your Nokia phones' buttons. Sure you need the ok button sometimes but other than that it's pretty much like a modern phone game! Just smaller in size lol. You tap where your sim needs to walk over and press the stuff you want to collect. If it's a grabbable object, a hand appears as your cursor, if it has a chance to kill you (quicksand, beehives and poisonous berries) a skull head appears. Though death in this game isn't that easy (except quicksand as that one's 100% instant and way too easy to achieve, but you never have to do anything in there so idk why it's even an option)

There's the usual Castaway needs. Those are easy to manage here and I don't see a problem with them at all. Especially not if you always take stuff everywhere like I did.

There's multiple minigames and only one requires your OK button and I hate that game.

The Minigames

Not the best things ever. They're pretty tedious at times. ESPECIALLY the surfing one I fucking hate it. Stupid piece of- but they're ok.

Fishing:

really simple. But your stick moves on its own and the fish do too. You have to tap the screen on the correct moment to get them. You can get 5x fish max per spawn point.

Dancing:

you flick your screen to the direction that's given. It's really easy. Probably my favorite one because of it.

Surfing:

you have to balance out the green marks so it gets to the other side. Sometimes a shark (that looks more like an orca) comes through so you have to hit the ok button too. I hate it. (I deleted 3 paragraphs of rant for this)

Cup: (idk the name of this)

exactly how it looks. Really simple too. It's not fast either. You get prizes to romance every sim. The Orangutan asks you for a brush and it's never explained why he wants it or why he's even gifting it to you so you gift it back in the first place. He makes me question everything.

Hit the marked bongo: (Idk the name of this one either.)

Really simple too. Really easy. Really forgettable. Last minigame to be unlocked. Has ties to mark and is hosted by the monkeys.

The Story

The story begins with the usual that can be found in other iterations of Castaway too: People go on a boat for who knows why, storm arises and throws all of you into the water and on a deserted island yada yada yada. And then you wake up. But this time you can only play as either a man or a woman. You don't create your crew as you do on the PS2/Wii version. The crew actually has preset characters in this. And you unlock them per area.

After you wake up on the bay, your sim is required to do the tutorial level like picking up all the vines and getting bananas and coconuts from palm trees. But the game changes once you feel sleepy because you set up a bed in the camp area instead of the beach. And that's when you are directed to find your first crewmate, Sandi. She's INCREDIBLY fast at setting up the tent because apparently she already built a huge ass house when you were on the jungle. FOR 2 SIM MINUTES.

The characters give you tedious tasks all the time because, just as newlow said in the PSP game, everyone apparently only gets rid of their problems once YOU show up. You can unlock more areas without the tasks but later you reach a stop so you'll have to do those to get all of them and escape this mad house of an island.

The next area you unlock is the waterfall. Your friend Leyla put up her hut on it and, honestly, good for her. She is the only sim to have a shower next to her. Nobody ever uses it except you and you can only shower ONCE a day. And it looks incredibly goofy. It's just this image btw.

Layla is also the one that makes clothes for your sim. And from what I've seen is the only one of these guys to sleep during the late morning. All the sims sleep at night but she sleeps in the late mornings too.

The next area you unlock, the beach, has the character called Jeff. He's a surfer dude. You can tell by the way he talks to you and what he talks about. He's weird. I don't like his Minigame but his area has a lot of resources for some reason like driftwood for objectcrafting. I also don't like Jeff himself.

After that, Jeff's area is a dead end. So you'll have to go back to camp to find the other path. Jeff gifts you his axe he used for his surfboard if you give him stuff and then you can cut down the overgrown jungle. Sounds great in theory but. Once you get the axe, EVERYTHING IS ALREADY DONE! so there's no animation for it. Sims 4 level animations

On the next area, the jungle, you find Higgins the Orangutan. he can talk but this is never ever addressed for some reason. I am so conflicted about him. Anyways he builds your objects and your houses. Don't ask because I don't have answers. You can kinda skip him and walk straight into the cave.

There you meet Crazy Joe. A shipwrecked guy that's been there for 20 years apparently. Which is.... Odd as he looks pretty young to me. Anyways he's hungry and wants fish stew. ONLY fish stew. This pissed me off because fuck you?? just eat anything so I can advance and go home... He says "I will advance with you if you give me fish stew" BUT HE NEVER COMES WITH YOU!! he stays in his God damn cave and never leaves. He just gives you stupid tasks to do...

At this point you cannot go to the last 2 areas as you do need to fulfill some quests like the fish stew. Also the next area is apparently too dark so you need to get a Torch from Leyla because God forbid you do anything yourself.

She... wants to dance if you want her torch. These people and they're stupid standards I swear. 😭

Also to get a Fish stew you need Pineapples, Cucumbers and Fish. Disgusting. Sandi makes it for you. But you need a garden from the Orangutan then help Sandi get her seeds back from Jeff because???? and wait until you have all the ingredients. People can't do shit can they???

After you get a Torch you can skip hungry Carl for awhile. He doesn't die from hunger sadly. You can go to the last 2 areas without doing a quest. Only the cliffs are important because that's where the last character, Mike, lives.

One thing I didn't mention is that everyone thinks you didn't make it.... Which is such an asshole move???? Like? "Oh you're still alive." Like wow you're SUCH great friends.

i accidentally called my sim Kaw don't @ me

Anyways this is too long. One thing leads to another and the last mission is then given by Mike. He needs to complete his research on llamas back home in the city. So he orders you to get Leyla, Jeff and The Orangutan Higgins to build parts of a float so he can build that together. Then after doing that they want to throw a farewell party and the nightmare FINALLY ends.

this game exhausted me. It's a survival story but everyone already survived. They just waited for you to... Idk what they would've done IF you died but who cares. Also idk if the others came on the float too??? It's just you and Mike back home. Like where's Leyla?? Or Sandi?? Probably out of frame but still weird.

The Characters:

Talking about them because they have a bit more tied to them here than The Sims DJ. ALSO they are probably the closest thing to GBA sims lol. ALSO: everyone has seen all of these guys at least once. Because this game features all the cover sims as actual characters. Which is weird. Because why are they on the Wii and DS covers if they don't appear in it 😭

You:

There's not a lot to say about you. I believe the canon gender in this game is to play as the female character as she's also the one that is on the front cover and promo material of the game. The guy just feels like an afterthought 🤧 I believe his PNGs are actually Beta test screenshots of The Sims 2. also you're pretty much everyone's doormat to home. And I hate you.

Sandi:

i kinda forgot she was even at the bay. And that was 2 minutes after I met her lol. Her first mission is for you to find specific fish and coconuts so she can cook some weird coconutcrust snapper or whatever the fuck. Jeff steals her seeds. And I'm too done with this game I swear.

Leyla:

Honestly I kinda headcanon'd her to be Neo Flange(Foundry Urb)s sister while I was playing it. I just want more ties between the sims games like they used to have. Also adding her disappearance to Neos desperation "Sister shipwrecked on a deserted island and nobody knows where she is" yk? And also because she is a fashion stylist and is skilled in crafts, has dark hair, glasses and- these sims don't have an actual last name so I can make them anyone I want them to be. I'll turn her into an unofficial foundry Urb you can't stop me.

Rambling aside she has the dancing Minigame tied to her. When the story demands you to get an item from her, like the torch, she actually won't take your resources... she is really adamant to battle you in a dance session. Which is just flicking your screen in a certain direction. It's not even fast.

Romancing is possible in this game. I tried with her but you have to win some weird prize from the fuck ass orangutan and I don't want to do that

Jeff:

I hate his minigame. Also he's kinda like Dudley Landgraab. Only as a surfer. He steals Sandi's seeds and won't give them back to her. So you have to clear his minigame so that he does. He's kind of a jerk.

Higgins The Orangutan:

i want this Orangutan dead.

THE MONKEY:

They just host the Minigame 24/7. They don't sleep. They don't do shit.

Crazy Carl:

he was kinda boring... Like the concept sounds so cool. A guy that could never escape! For 20 years. But that only shows how stupid this guy is. Because you manage to escape after 6 days.

He's even more pathetic because once you get to the ghost of the pirate to get his treasure.... he just tells you it's somewhere here and it's literally right in front of the ghost I'm crying 😭 20 years for nothing

Mike:

so cool. Yet so undercooked. I wish he had something else to work with. Doesn't help that he's the last character you meet on the island. Like I said he should've had more to him. The Kayleigh Wintercrest of The Sims 2 Castaway.

Mike had his glasses stolen from the monkeys hosting the "bongos" minigame so you have to play it to get them back. But Mike's sprite never wears his glasses.

Fun fact: Mike DOES wear his glasses in ONE render for The Sims Castaway:

he carries the whole poster ngl

For some reason the poster ALSO shows an unknown character climbing up the tree. I don't know who that is but she's there.

Captain Busto:

He is not important at all

Its also weird he appears in the relationship panel. He doesn't do shit and you never see this portrait outside of it.

????????:

He's just a prop to talk with. No relationship gains or anything

Woohoo!!!

I nearly lost my shit when I saw this. After the party you can gift people something they want. And then after that you can romance and marry them. You can also be gay with them! But that woohoo Cutscene is.... Out of this world.

Conclusion/ TL;DR

That was The Sims Castaway for Nokia. I doubt anyone is ever reading this so... One of the games ever. Anyways:

Leyla and Mike carried this game for me

I'm not ever touching this game again

I need sleep

First Castaway game I actually finished

This game features every Castaway Cover sim

I kinda recommend it for you to try it out. It's a mediocre game.

Bye

[seretoningghost]

Tomura Shigaraki x Male Reader

WARNINGS : LIME! BLOWJOB! Mild sizeplay(?) Small cock appreciation for Tomura😊💕. TOP MALE READER.

Haha. This one's a bit short but its cute.

Idk if you'd call this a lime cus like - blowjob? But Idk? No sex happens.

Ha- Imagine Y/N having a quirk that causes him to overheat when he uses it.

Quirk not mentioned.

(I HAD TEXT TO SPEECH READ IT BACK TO ME SINCE I WAS BUSY- AND YALL- WHY DOES IT MAKE EVERYTHING SOUND SO BAD😭)

THIRD PERSON POV

Y/N huffed, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge.

Panting quietly as sweat dripped down his body, grabbing his waterbottle.

Tomura slugged into the kitchen, bored and not sure what he wanted to do.

He thought he'd maybe look for a snack - and oh, looks like he found one.

Grinning as he spotted Y/N, eyes gleeming mischievously.

Tomura stood beside the island table, suddenly feeling quite aroused - damn stupid horomones, no matter, as he was lucky and had a boyfriend.

Tomura arched his back slightly, sticking out his ass as he put his elbow on the countertop, propping up his head with his hand.

"Oh~? Overheating again? You know that is really some pathetic quirk you have~.. Being driven to even pass out from such a pathetic side effect~.." Tomura teased with his raspy voice, with a shit eating grin.

Knowing fully well Y/N was a important and vital member to L.O.V, and that it pissed Y/N off more than it rationally should.

...

That and Y/N could pound his ass sore in a fucking instant- a blush rose to Tomura's face, still not loosing his gusto.

It was still so entrancing to him that Y/N was bigger and stronger than him, and Y/N was immune to his quirk - so Tomura couldn't stop him even if he wanted to.

Y/N, who was chugging his ice cold water, huffed - pulled his water bottle from his lips and growled.

Having heard this teasing before he was so fucking done with it.

"Shigaraki you better shut your mouth- because I swear to god if you open your mouth one more time you'll regret it." Y/N glared.

Shigaraki grinned wider, eyes glinting happily, he tried to play it off - but his body collectively shivered.

Shigaraki calmly opened his mouth, his smugness still apparent as he kept his mouth open.

...

And that's how Shigaraki ended up laying on his back on a bed - head hanging off the edge, face dripping with drool - and completely getting his mouth fucked out of it.

Shigaraki would be giggling and moaning in gleeful lust - had he space in his mouth to do much more than let out a guttural moan with each thrust.

Shigaraki most certainly didn't expect this to be his punishment - but he didnt exactly object to his empty mouth being put to use.

If anyone had asked him before this moment - Shigaraki would have asked to be fucked, but Shigaraki had never like this before experienced the sheer joy and sexual enjoyment there could be in giving a blowjob.

Shigaraki was beginning to question his ability to ever again not have something stuffing his mouth.

Shigaraki had his tongue lolled out against the topside of Y/N's cock, loud lewd blowjob and instinctual gagging noises leaving his throat.

It was messy, and that was making him so horny.

A whine leaving his throat as Y/N roughly and quickly throat fucked him.

He wanted to touch himself so bad - but each time he tried Y/N said no and moved his hand away.

Shigaraki's cock throbbed against his pants, a rock hard tent pert in his pants, his cock making a large wet spot through his boxers.

He was so close to cumming - and he wasnt even embaressed at that anymore.

Shigaraki shifted his legs again, having them propped up and bent at the knees.

He didnt care how pathetic it made him look - he wanted to cum so bad - and keep cumming, Y/N was fucking his throat so good.

His eyes were practically crossed he was so fucked out of it.

There were almost no thoughts behind his eyes.

Just one remained, cum.

Whether he came - or Y/N came, he didnt care anymore. He wanted cum.

Shigaraki slowly and feebly shifted his hand - reaching for his zipper - as if being slow Y/N wouldn't see him in the lit room.

"Shigaraki.. Stop that. I said that t-this is your punishment. You can't touch yourself." Y/N groaned.

Shigaraki shuddered, feeling Y/Ns cock fuck his throat somehow deeper - it was like all the smarts in his brain were being fucked out of him.

He moved his hand away, gripping onto the bed - his gloves really coming in handy now.

Tomura suddenly bringing his thighs together and rubbing, Y/N grinned, panting as he watched.

Tomura was being a obedient little cock slut - keeping his throat open and staying still - despite how hard Y/N fucked his throat.

It was even more cute and demeaning that Shigaraki was following his commands and instead rubbing his thighs together like a bitch in heat.

"You wanna cum so bad don't you~?" Y/N teased with a grin, he was close, he just wanted to see how easily he could get Tomura to cum.

Y/N could tell by the loud moan Shigaraki made each time he got the chance that he was affirming Y/N.

"Yeah~? Yeah~? Using nothing but my cock ramming in your throat to get off~?" Y/N whined, feeling closer than he was before.

Tomura's eyes rolled back pleasurably - not that Y/N could see at his angle.

"Alright then slut... Cum~.." Y/N purred, taking a firm grip around Tomura's throat.

Shigaraki's thighs shuddered hard, a loud high pitched whine exiting his throat.

He creamed in his pants, hard.

His cock sore and throbbing from the lack of stimulation, already shuddering from the gross feel in his pants as the wettness stickily webbed between his cock - abdomen - and boxers.

It quickly getting colder.

Y/N groaned, the sight alone of Tomura convulsing on his cock causing his to cum.

Jizz shooting into Tomura's mouth.

Shigaraki moaned pathetically, his cock feeling overstimuated by the soreness.

Enjoying the large mass of sticky cum in his mouth.

A soft shudder racking down his spine.

After a few thrusts Y/N pulled out, panting loudly.

Tomura pawwed at the cum in his mouth with his tongue, soaking in the favor before swallowing.

Dribbles of cum leaking out of the corners of his lips, but he didn't care.

"Oh my... What a good boy~..." Y/N teased with a grin, putting himself back inside his boxers - still leaving his pants unzipped, sitting on the edge of the bed next to Tomura's head.

Y/N ran a hand through Tomura's hair - Tomura letting out a soft 'ghhahh' of a sigh as he finally caught his breath.

"Your still hard~... I'll just take care of that~.." Y/N grinned, licking his lips as he leaned over.

"N-No!"

Y/N looked back to Tomura.

"I-Im just so... S-sensitive - I-I can't..." Tomura whined.

Y/N was shocked, usually Tomura had a high libido and was ready to go at practically any time.

Y/N smirked, and cooed.

"I'll be gentle.. I promise~..." Y/N said as he leaned closer - undoing Tomura's zipper.

"A-Ah... N-No- please... Y-Your tongue is just so-"

Y/N wide swipe licked Shigaraki's cock from tip to base.

"W-Warm! A-a-and b-Big!" Shigaraki shuddered - cock twitching wildly against Y/N's tongue.

Shigaraki shifted on the bed whining as his cock ached against Y/Ns tongue.

"Such a big messy load this time~..." Y/N praised, gently lapping against the side of Tomura's cock.

"P-Please..." Tomura whined, looking at the ceiling.

He didn't know if he was asking for more, or begging for Y/N to stop.

But Y/N didn't pay heed, Tomura knew his safe word.

"I think this might be your biggest load yet~.." Y/N cooed as he happily licked another broad stripe on Tomura's cock.

"b-big..." Tomura squeaked - feeling Y/N's large tongue swipe against his member.

"I'm not big, your just small.. Just like your cute handsome cock~.." Y/N purred, gently taking hold of Shigaraki's base with his index and thumb - tilting his cock to lick at the topside.

Y/N always loved Shigaraki's 3-4" cock, easily being able to envelope him in his warm mouth and get whines out of him - pleading how it was too warm or stimulating.

Y/N was standardly a big guy already - but something about the exaggeration between their sizes was super hot.

Y/N opened his mouth wide - making unnecessarily lewd wet noises - spit webbing between his teeth and tongue.

Y/N was horny all over again, he wasn't hard - but even if he did get hard it would be enough to just please his lover.

Y/N made sure to flatten out his tongue as he licked stripes across Tomura's pelvic section - making his tongue as wide as possible as he lapped up the thickening cum.

Once that was all done now he just had to finish off Shigaraki's cock.

"Juuust a bit moooore~.." Y/N teased with a grin, opening his mouth noisily wide.

Shigaraki's cock twitched - before Y/N knew it Shigaraki's hands were intangled in his hair - pushing him down roughly.

Holding his head in place as Tomura fucked his mouth hard and frantically - his hips bucking up forcefully.

Y/Ns body getting hotter at how sexy it was, pushing down and doing his best to suck and swirl his tongue.

Shigaraki was huffing and whining frantically, his cock throbbing and aching from abuse - but Y/N's mouth felt so warm and soft and so good.

Shigaraki didn't care how desperate or premature it seemed - Y/N was just so hot and he wanted to cum so bad.

Letting out a sudden moan he threw back his head - Y/N placing a hand on Shigaraki's hip as his back arched.

Y/N making sure to lean in even further and lap up Shigaraki's load.

Y/N pulled off with a pop once Shigaraki had rode off his high, grinning as he looked at Shigaraki.

"Satisfied~?"

Shigaraki was panting softly, but he shifted his gaze to Y/N - seeing Y/N grin - with cum dribbling down his chin.

"Would you stop doing that!" Shigaraki whined - covering his face as he blushed.

"Doing what~?"

"Leaking cum and spit on purpose!" Shigaraki groaned.

Y/N chuckled.

_________________________________________

Hello! You made it to the end! :3🎉

Also thank you to everyone liking my stories you mean the world to me!😘 You would not BELIEVE the amount of motivation it gives me!

[moluvies]

you're such an idiot sometimes. ꔛ robin buckley x nancy wheeler

a/n: don't focus on the "plot" like at all. some of it has to do w/ the upside down but i pulled it out of my ass lowkey so its not canon divergent at all just needed a dramatic moment LMFAO also this is like the 2nd time in my life writing smut so bare w/ me. also cross posted to ao3

cw: some blood (head injury but nothing graphic), tension, first encounters, nancy had already broken up w/ jonathan prior, slight mentions of previous enemies!(?)ronance, brief mentions of ex-stancy, smut, fingering, cunnilingus, mdni .

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

Nancy pulled Robin through the pulsating gateway just as it began to collapse, both of them tumbling onto the carpeted floor of Nancy's room. The slimy vines from the Upside Down pulled back as if they were yanked away, and the portal snapped shut with a loud, air-sucking whoosh.

"We made it," Nancy gasped, her lungs burning as she rolled onto her back, chest heaving. The warm glow from her lamp seemed impossibly bright after the murky darkness they'd escaped. Her head pounded from adrenaline, staring up at the ceiling of her childhood room and feeling the softness of the carpet beneath her seemed to help steady her breathing and racing heart.

After catching her breath, Nancy noticed the sudden quietness from the usually chatty Robin. She turned her head to see her companion lying motionless beside her, her hand pressed against her forehead and a grimace on her face, crimson seeming to spill from behind her hand.

"Robin?" Nancy scrambled to her knees, panic rising in her throat. "Robin, are you okay?" Nancy had crawled to where Robin was propped up against her dresser, painted nails now covered in the blood from her forehead.

Robin's eyes fluttered open, unfocused for a moment before finding Nancy's face, little wrinkles on her forehead from the pain. "Hey there, Nance," she mumbled, a weak but goofy grin forming. "Did you get the license plate of that stupid... demobat that hit me?"

Relief flooded Nancy's system at the stupid smile on Robin's face, however it was quickly followed by an unexpected surge of irritation. "This isn't funny," she snapped, helping Robin sit up more while carefully examining the wound. It wasn't deep, but head injuries always bled dramatically.

Robin looked like she wanted to say something else, something stupid probably, but was momentarily distracted by Nancy's closeness. Something about her made her drop all defenses. "Move your hand," Nancy said, her voice surprisingly soft despite the look of concern on her face. Robin dropped it into her lap.

"It's fine, Nance," she said, though she made no move to stop her. "One time my cousin hit me in the head with a frisbee when we were kids and it bled all day. Mom says I have a dramatic head," she rambled as Nancy grabbed a clean pair of socks from her drawer to cover the wound momentarily.

"Yeah, well it wasn't a frisbee this time, was it?" Nancy retorted, less of a question and more like "shut up, Robin" but with different words. "Hold this to your head, I'll go get something else," Nancy followed up, making Robin hold the sock to her head. Robin huffed out a laugh as Nancy stood, swiftly exiting her bedroom.

Nancy returned moments later with multiple objects to help with Robin's head. If Robin was alone with this injury, she'd simply walk it off, hoping it'd go away on its own maybe. But Nancy seemed adamant on wrapping her up, so of course Robin didn't protest.

"God, it's matted up in your hair," Nancy sighed, pouring a hefty amount of alcohol onto a cloth and wiping out some blood from Robin's light hair. She folded the cloth and then replaced the sock with the alcohol rag carefully, making sure it didn't hurt Robin too badly. Robin hissed, mumbling out some "ows" as Nancy eased the cloth onto her head, attempting to wipe away a good amount of the blood.

"What perfume is that?" Robin suddenly asked, sniffing the air near Nancy dramatically. "Somehow it outlasted the stench from the other dimension," she grinned, looking into Nancy's eyes for approval, maybe hoping for a smile, or even an eye roll and it would've pleased her. When Nancy simply exhaled, focused on cleaning Robin's blood, Robin pursed her lips and looked away. Anywhere but at Nancy, who was kind of scary when she was like this.

"Maybe that's why the demobat was chasing me so desperately," Robin started, another smirk tugging at her lips, "he was probably used to girls like you with sexy perfume on that when he got a whiff of me he-"

"Stop it," Nancy interrupted, a no-nonsense tone in her voice as she reached for the bandages. "Just stop with the jokes."

Robin's eyebrows rose in surprise after a beat of silence. "Since when did Nancy Wheeler become allergic to humor? Matter of fact, wasn't it just yesterday you laughed when Steve-"

"Since you almost died!" Nancy snapped, hands trembling as she began to wrap the bandage around Robin's forehead. Nancy shut her mouth, but Robin could hear her breathing was shaky and even parts of her face were twitchy in something like anger, or annoyance, or... she didn't fully know.

After a moment of deafening silence, Nancy finished wrapping her head. She leaned back on her heels, collecting all the supplies she'd brought out while avoiding Robin's eyes which were staring into her soul.

Robin finally dropped her gaze to her lap. She wasn't sure whether to thank Nancy now or wait til she'd cooled down, but she couldn't help but be confused by the sudden outburst. Nancy was known to keep her cool in these situations - Robin's seen it plenty of times before.

"I didn't almost die," Robin broke the silence with a soft voice, a voice so soft Nancy almost didn't recognize it since Robin almost never shut up around her. Steve, maybe, but not her. They weren't the closest pair; at least not compared to Robin and Steve.

Why was she so angry? They'd faced death before. Steve had been injured worse than this just last month, and she hadn't felt this... whatever this was. She wrote it off as annoyance. Annoyance that Robin seemed to think it was one big joke whenever she got hurt, when she really just got lucky.

Nancy briefly left to go put the first aid supplies away before returning, bending down to help lift Robin off the ground. Once upright, Nancy led her to sit on her bed. From here, Nancy was able to see everything much more clearly in the lamp's light, the way Robin's eyes looked almost bloodshot and the smudge of dirt on her cheek.

"You're being weirdly intense," Robin observed, staring up at Nancy. "Did something else happen in there that I missed?"

Nancy shook her head, sighing. Her lips were pursed as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I just don't understand how you can joke about it, especially when I'm sitting there worried about you."

"It's either laugh or cry," Robin replied, her usual sarcasm giving way to honesty. "And I especially don't wanna break down crying in front of Nancy freaking Wheeler. I got Steve for that."

Nancy didn't respond, instead opting to stare at her shoes as she felt her heart rate stabilize and her breathing even out.

"Hey," Robin said after a moment, ducking her head in hopes to catch Nancy's eye.

Nancy reluctantly met her gaze, a stubborn glare in her eyes but a cute one nonetheless.

"We're okay," Robin said. "We made it."

Something in Nancy's chest unraveled, the anger dissolving into something else entirely—something terrifying in its intensity.

Nancy let out a sharp exhale through her nose, staring at the stubborn smudge of dirt on Robin’s cheek like it personally offended her. She reached out abruptly, rubbing at it with her thumb a little rougher than necessary. Robin flinched slightly but didn’t pull away, watching Nancy with wide, searching eyes. Suddenly Robin felt as though she was a kid needing coddling, a really annoying kid at that.

"You’re such an idiot sometimes," Nancy muttered, her thumb dragging over Robin’s skin again even after the dirt was gone. "You don't even seem to care about how close it was." Now Nancy was glaring into Robin's eyes, noting the way her lips parted awkwardly as she stared up at her.

Robin gave a nervous little laugh, but it died quickly when she caught the way Nancy was looking at her — like she was furious and terrified all at once. She huffs, unable to supress a small grin, even though she knew that definitely annoyed Nancy even more.

"I'm fine, Nance. Seriously," she said, voice softer, trying to ease the tension. But Nancy's hand stayed cupping her cheek, her thumb now brushing with something much gentler, unable to pull her gaze from Robin's.

"You're still an idiot," Nancy stated, though her voice wasn't raised anymore and instead had a softness to it.

Robin didn't know if she was going crazy or not. But she swore Nancy's gaze kept dropping to her lips. And it didn't help how she continued to brush her thumb along her cheek.

"Nance," Robin started, only to have any other words die in her throat when Nancy made the slightest movement to lean in.

"Shut up," Nancy whispered. And Robin listened.

Nancy's other hand came up to cup Robin's other cheek, leaving no room for Robin to pull away. Not that Robin wanted to. She'd be crazy if she did.

Nancy's lips parted just barely, Robin quick to mirror her. Her hands, which just moments ago sat awkwardly in her lap, reached up to lightly touch Nancy's arms near her elbows.

Finally, Nancy's lips touched hers and Robin made a pathetic and whiny noise at the contact. Her hands tightened on Nancy's arms now, suddenly sure of what was happening. Almost like when Nancy was an inch away she was still hesitant, but now, with their lips pressed together, she realized it was very much real.

Robin shut her eyes when she realized they were awkwardly open, her hands moving up to Nancy's shoulders and then back down as if she had no idea where to put them.

Another pathetic noise left her mouth when she felt Nancy's tongue against her lips, making her feel like she might explode. With random confidence she pat herself on the back for later, her hands dropped to Nancy's waist, instinctively pulling her closer between her legs.

Nancy was a natural at this, Robin thought. It was something she expected, what with her being in a long term relationship with Jonathan (which recently ended), but she didn't expect it to be so... dizzying? Magical? She didn't know.

Nancy's hands moved from Robin's cheeks down to her shoulders, her back arching itself into Robin's hold. This gave Robin all the confidence she needed to find Nancy's tongue with her own, her hand meeting the small of her back.

Then Nancy made a noise. While Robin's had also been pathetic and desperate, she didn't expect the same from Nancy, who she saw as someone who kept her cool more often than not. But the sweet sound that came from Nancy was the exact opposite; needy, desperate, pathetic, even. Not that Robin would ever want to use that word about Nancy. Never. But it did sound like she was needy as hell, and that is something Robin had no idea she could do to someone.

"Robin, I..." Nancy hesitated as the girls momentarily broke the kiss. All her doubts went out the window when Robin reached up to put her hands in Nancy's curly hair, obviously desperate to kiss some more.

And so Nancy obliged, her mouth meeting Robin's in an embrace that had her reeling.

Things were quick to escalate from there. Their tongues brushed against each others in a maddeningly sensual way, and the sounds Robin would usually hold back were spilling from her lips in a way that made Nancy's head spin.

"You're a good kisser," Robin stated in a low voice, her lips finding Nancy's jaw. Nancy instinctively tried to press herself further into Robin's hold, even if there was hardly room anywhere for that.

Nancy couldn't find any words to respond, instead her lips parted as Robin's kisses trailed down her neck. A breathy sigh was released when Robin kissed where her neck and shoulder met, and Robin's newfound confidence had her doing things she didn't expect she'd be able to. Her tongue met the skin of Nancy's collarbone, which had been exposed as Robin pulled the neckline of her shirt down just a bit. Nancy's breathing had grown heavy as Robin started to suck and lick at her skin.

Unable to resist, Nancy's hands met Robin's cheeks again as she pulled her into a kiss once more. Robin groaned into her mouth as her grip on Nancy's waist tightened.

Robin found herself lying on her back on Nancy's bed, Nancy hovering above her as they continued to kiss. Robin's heart raced when Nancy's soft hand was suddenly placed on the front of Robin's jeans.

"Okay?" Nancy asked, looking into Robin's eyes for confirmation.

And how could Robin say no?

At her nod, Nancy pressed her lips to Robin's again. Robin squeezed her eyes shut as she felt Nancy unbutton her jeans and then slowly, almost hesitantly in case she changed her mind, unzipping them. Robin found herself kissing Nancy more eagerly as she propped herself up on her elbows, her hand finding the back of Nancy's head.

Nancy didn't stop. Especially when she felt how much Robin needed it. Not even bothering to remove the denim, Nancy reached in where Robin's cotton underwear was now exposed beneath the jeans and began with a light touch on the fabric.

Robin gasped, and Nancy pulled away, her hand stopping its exploration until Robin nodded desperately.

Her hand delved deeper into Robin's pants, finding a tiny damp spot already forming on the fabric of her underwear. When Nancy looked at Robin, she half expected embarrassment in her expression. Instead, Robin's jaw seemed to have fallen slightly, staring down at where Nancy's hands were in her pants.

Nancy Wheeler's hands are in my pants.

Just the thought made Robin even more horny, quickly dampening the fabric just a smidge more where Nancy's fingers were.

"You're so wet," Nancy observed in a soft voice, taking in Robin's expression.

When Robin didn't respond, Nancy's fingers trailed upwards to where her clit was.

Intensely looking at Robin's face, Nancy began rubbing a circle with two fingers pressed to Robin's clit through her underwear.

"Oh, my God," Robin gasped in a shaky voice, her hips slightly bucking at the contact.

Nancy smiled at Robin's expression before turning her gaze back down to where she rubbed the girl through her panties.

With no hesitation, Nancy moved her hands over and then under into Robin's panties, her fingers meeting Robin's bare flesh. "Fuck," Robin huffed as Nancy found all the slick wetness hiding beneath the fabric.

Nancy giggled again, loving the reactions Robin was giving her. Her two fingers met Robin's bare clit now, making the younger girl's entire body nearly jolt out of her skin. Nancy was unable to stop smiling, biting her lip instead as she focused on the way Robin liked to be touched.

She quickly found a rhythm, a slow, an annoyingly slow, rhythm that had Robin gripping the blankets of Nancy's bed. Her fingers swirled over Robin's soaked clit, making her thighs twitch and her whimpers increasing in volume.

"Feel good?" Nancy asked sweetly, and she was met with an immediate nod. "Feel good having your clit played with like this?"

At Nancy's explicit language, language she didn't even know Miss Nancy Wheeler would be harboring, Robin found herself whimpering out, her hole clenching around nothing.

Nancy simply smiled, sitting up more straight and using her free hand to keep Robin's thighs from closing. Whimpers fell from Robin's lips freely now, her whole body twitching as Nancy continued to rub at her clit.

Nancy increased the pace slowly, easing Robin into it as her fingers stroked at her clit. "Fuck, Nancy," Robin whined, her brows furrowing as she stared down at where her hand disappeared into her underwear.

"You just keep getting wetter," Nancy pointed out, smiling. After a moment of her stroking her clit, she stopped. Robin huffed a bit at the loss of pleasure, but quickly got over it when she felt Nancy's fingers tease her hole.

She whined, her hips jerking in anticipation. Nancy could've made her wait. But she didn't, instead pressing two dainty fingers into Robin's pussy. This made Robin's mouth fall open, a whimper leaving her lips.

"So soaked," Nancy commented, leaning up and kissing Robin. Still kissing her, Nancy began pulling her fingers out and pushing them back in, Robin's walls tight and slippery around them.

Robin could hardly focus on the kiss, her mouth frequently losing its rhythm when Nancy pushed her fingers back in. But Nancy liked it - liked seeing the effect she had on Robin and how she could barely kiss back as she fingered her.

A squelch sound was heard between Robin's thighs, her pussy squeezing Nancy's fingers desperately. Nancy pulled back from the kiss with a cocky grin as Robin let out a high-pitched whine.

Nancy's smile grew even wider at Robin's desperate sounds, her confidence building as she watched the usually quick-witted girl come completely undone beneath her touch. She curled her fingers slightly inside Robin, watching as her eyes rolled back and shut.

"God, Robin," Nancy breathed, her voice low and sweet as she watched Robin's face contort in pleasure. "You should see yourself right now."

Robin's eyes fluttered open, glazed and unfocused as she tried to maintain eye contact with Nancy. Another obscene wet sound emerged as Nancy's fingers worked steadily in and out, the pace gradually increasing.

"I can't... mm," Robin started, her sentence breaking off into a gasp when Nancy's thumb found her clit again, circling it in time with her thrusting fingers. The dual sensation had Robin arching her back, her hips rising off the bed to meet Nancy's hand.

"You're just loving this," Nancy pointed out, her sweet voice a stark contrast to the expert way she was touching Robin.

Nancy's pace increased, feeling as Robin's wetness had completely covered her hand at this point. The sounds of her pussy getting drilled by Nancy's fingers were undeniably loud, echoing slightly off the walls of Nancy's small room.

Robin's hands flew up to grip Nancy's shoulders, nails digging in through the fabric of her shirt. Her breathing had become ragged, combining with her high-pitched whimpers. Nancy kept up the relentless pace, watching in awe as Robin's composure crumbled completely. She felt Robin's hole clench around her fingers over and over, a telltale sign she was close.

"Nancy, I'm—" Robin's warning was cut short as her entire body tensed, thighs trembling as they clamped around Nancy's wrist. Nancy pressed her fingers deep, curling them just right as Robin came with a choked cry, her inner walls pulsing around Nancy's fingers.

Nancy slowed her movements gradually, helping Robin ride out every wave of pleasure until the aftershocks subsided. When Robin finally relaxed back onto the bed with heavy breathing, Nancy carefully withdrew her hand, unable to suppress a smirk at how slick her fingers were.

Robin lay there, chest heaving, staring at the ceiling with wide, disbelieving eyes. Her bandaged head contrasted sharply with her flushed face, a reminder of their earlier escape.

"Holy shit," Robin finally managed to say, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned her head slowly to look at Nancy, who was now sitting beside her with an expression that was both proud and slightly shy, her cheeks flushed a bit but her grin unwavering. "Where did that come from, Wheeler?"

Nancy shrugged, a small smile playing on her lips. "Maybe I've thought about it before," she admitted, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Robin propped herself up on her elbows, her jeans still undone and her hair a complete mess. Despite the disheveled state, there was a new gleam in her eyes as she looked at Nancy.

Nancy felt her heartbeat quicken as Robin pulled her closer into a kiss, their positions beginning to reverse. The fear and anger from earlier had completely transformed into something else - feelings Nancy wasn't quite used to.

"You're so hot, Nance," Robin admitted as she kissed at her neck. Nancy responded with a sigh, her hands moving up to tangle in Robin's hair with carefulness to avoid the bandage.

Where Nancy was slow and teasing with the way she touched Robin, Robin in turn couldn't contain her enthusiasm. Here she was, touching Nancy Wheeler. Not long ago she was on the bathroom floor of Starcourt with Steve Harrington calling his ex-girlfriend a priss - she thought Nancy was too proper, too bossy, too prudish.

She's glad she was wrong. As Robin quickly unzipped the jeans Nancy was wearing, she was unable to stop thinking about seeing Nancy Wheeler in the hallways at school. She thought Nancy was way too eager to fit in, while simultaneously way too much of a goody-two-shoes. A privileged life was something Robin envied, and that was what she saw when she saw Nancy Wheeler. That is, before they had properly met.

Her fingers, painted with a chipped black nail polish, were eager to slide underneath Nancy's underwear. And when she heard the first whimper come out of Nancy's mouth, she forgot every bad thing she may have ever thought about Nancy.

"And you said I was wet," Robin quipped with a goofy grin. Nancy lightly hit Robin on the shoulder but kept her hand there, her fingers curling into a fist in the fabric of Robin's shirt as Robin used the pad of her finger to directly toy with Nancy's clit.

"Oh," Nancy sighed, spreading her legs wider (to Robin's surprise) as her clit was played with. "Feels good," she mumbled, her eyebrows furrowing together and her grip on Robin's shirt getting tighter.

Nancy obviously knew exactly what she liked. Robin could tell by the way she subtly tilted her hips or spread her thighs apart. And to Robin, that was... "So hot," Robin breathed, leaning down to capture Nancy's parted lips in yet another kiss.

Robin was enthusiastic, her pace starting off quick as she rubbed at Nancy's wet clit. When she broke apart from the kiss, her mouth instantly found Nancy's neck as her fingers swirled quickly in her underwear.

"I'm gonna eat you out, Nance," Robin said in a quiet voice, leaving little room for argument.

Nancy's pants were pulled down quickly, and she propped up onto her elbows as Robin positioned herself between her legs. Nancy shuddered when Robin pressed a kiss to her inner thigh, feeling herself somehow get more wet than she was.

Robin hooked her fingers into the hem of Nancy's underwear, sliding them down her slender legs. God, she was perfect. Robin tossed her underwear aside, so utterly distracted by the sight of Nancy. And even better, Nancy was confident, not shying away or closing her legs or anything Robin herself might've done.

Nancy was so incredibly wet, and visibly so, her folds glistening in the light of the lamp. "So pretty," Robin stated, momentarily leaning over to kiss Nancy once more.

That was all the warning Nancy got before Robin was spreading her thighs a little wider. Her tongue darted out to lick a flat stripe along the slit of Nancy's pussy, her tongue quickly retracting back into her mouth to let the taste settle. Nancy whined, staring down as Robin leaned in again, this time focusing her tongue on Nancy's clit.

"There," Nancy said breathlessly, her hand resting atop Robin's head, careful to not disturb the bandages.

Robin hummed, looking up at Nancy's face. So cute.

She let her tongue slide over her clit again, her head moving a bit from side to side as she lathered it in spit. "Robin, fuck," Nancy moaned, her fingers tangling in Robin's hair.

Spurred on from the encouragement, Robin gripped both of Nancy's thighs, her tongue flicking over Nancy's clit over and over. Nancy's thighs twitched in her hands, her hips bucking ever so slightly against Robin's face. Robin put a hand on top of Nancy's stomach, carefully but firmly holding her down as she began to suckle and lick at her pussy.

"Mm," Nancy whined, her free hand covering her mouth slightly to muffle the sounds. Her head fell back, Robin in a trance as she stared at the column of Nancy's neck and the way her brown curls fell over her shoulders.

Reaching up, Robin slid her hand underneath the soft fabric of Nancy's shirt, quickly squeezing at her small breast. Nancy giggled with her bottom lip between her teeth, feeling as Robin tucked her hand into her bra and began pinching her nipple.

"You're so sweet," Robin said, then suckled a bit on her clit before lifting her head up again. "Not just your pussy, but like, all of you," she clarified quickly, licking at her slit. "Like, the sweetest," she added.

Nancy couldn't help but smile. Even though Robin was adorable, and she loved hearing her talk, Nancy's grip on the back of her head pushed her mouth against her pussy to the point Robin couldn't let out a word.

Robin got the hint and pulled her hand from Nancy's shirt, squeezing her thighs as she made sure they stayed apart.

Nancy moaned, petting Robin's hair almost to say thank you or something.

Robin's tongue trailed downwards, finding Nancy's tight hole just begging to be filled.

"Fuck," Nancy whined as Robin began pushing the tip of her tongue inside her. Robin's nose nudged against her clit, creating a dual sensation that had Nancy's once light grip on Robin's hair change into nearly pulling it.

At her reaction, Robin hummed, her tongue insistently pushing into Nancy's hole.

Leaning up, her tongue found Nancy's clit again, the bud flushed and sensitive now. "Robin," Nancy cried. Never in a million years would Robin think she would hear Nancy Wheeler say her name like that, but she knew she needed more of it.

Taking one of her hands off of Nancy's thigh, Robin was quick to push two fingers into her pussy while simultaneously licking at her clit.

This is when Nancy seemed to break, her thighs threatening to close around Robin's head as she was fucked by Robin's tongue and fingers.

"Shit, oh my God," Nancy whimpered, her hips bucking against Robin desperately. Robin found it hard to supress a smirk - who knew she'd be so good at this?

"Come on, Nance," she said as she curled her fingers inside. She looked up at Nancy's face when she brought her tongue back down to her clit. She watched as Nancy's mouth fell open (maybe even drooled, but also maybe her imagination got too cocky) and her brows furrowed, the mascara on her lashes slightly smudged now on her eyes.

"I'm coming," Nancy announced suddenly, her pussy gripping Robin's curled fingers. Robin didn't slow down, instead focused on Nancy's face as her eyes rolled back at the quick flicks of her tongue against her clit.

With her fingers insistently curling over and over, Robin gave Nancy's clit a suck. Then Nancy came, her thighs shaking and her pussy squeezing the two fingers inside of her. Her brows arched upwards in the middle, her eyes closed and her mouth opened as sweet whines escaped.

Robin extracted her fingers and her mouth from Nancy, discreetly licking at the remnants of Nancy's juices off her hands. She waited for Nancy to catch her breath while littering kisses across her neck and face, making her smile.

Robin pushed Nancy's curls from her face. "So, was I a pro or what?" Robin asked.

Nancy giggled, playfully pushing Robin off of her. "Get off me," she smiled, sitting up and fishing on the floor for her panties.

Robin let out a dreamy sigh, falling back onto the bed.

"You're adorable," Robin said, staring up at the ceiling with flushed cheeks. Just when she thought Nancy wasn't going to respond, Nancy leaned down and met Robin's lips in a kiss as she held her fluffy hair back with one hand.

"You're an idiot," Nancy teased. Robin rolled her eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, before pulling Nancy closer.

[todayisdeadinside]

https://www.tumblr.com/halo-stylinson/781945621543256064/httpswwwtumblrcomhalo-stylinson7819442049412

what contracts could he possibly have that would force him to work with a particular producer?

see you can either argue he is azoff and sony's golden goose, so he gets all the creative freedom to be where he wants and wins the awards he wants, so he accpets the closeting. because thats the cost of what he wants in his career.

but then to turn around and say he is also forced to work with certain people professionally is hypocritical. he wants to work with kid,

i dont think he cared about kid harpoon groping his ass. it was very much a friendly thing. kid is the first person harry was cuddling into as soon as he won any award.

are you stupid on purpose?

"what contracts could force him to work with a particular producer?" is that a serious question. like. the BIGGEST thing a contract can do is make you work with certain companies and people. hello?? kesha. anyway, moving on.

ive always been of the opinion that harry is a walking dollar sign to the azoffs and to sony. hes useful as long as he makes them money, but otherwise he is a product and they keep him closeted as part of keeping their product "clean." he has more musical freedom now than in 1D but thats mainly down to him not being in a boyband anymore, with boybands historically having VERY little control over their songs.

hes still very much controlled and his public facing "friendships" are still very much contrived. how is it hypocritical for me to say he is forced to work with certain producers? that doesnt contradict anything ive said, i dont think. hes forced to do a lot. hes a money making object to these people.

like another anon said, if it was soooo friendly, there wouldnt be room for debate. he was clearly uncomfortable and if you cant see that, its time to get your eyes checked.

[tboyquackity]

@carosbee : 🐺 - Should Wilbur get a redemption arc?

-

ok iwill try to be brief (1/80000). i think this is actually a rlly complicated question w plentiful angles but if ihad to condense MY personal thesis: i think practically everyone deserves redemption, and cwil is no exception. if it was up to me, he'd never see the ppl he hurt again. but the ppl tht love him will always love him. idk if he deserves that. but they do. so if he's gnna come back, v v v bar to the floor least he cn do i acknowledge how truly, truly, truly fucked a lot of wht he did to them was + needs to put an unbelievable amnt of work to deserve their grace and forgiveness no if ands or buts. let me explain ☝️ rest under cut bcs i'm the humble hating nutjob. warning fr cwil "crit" + cwil "neg" (in quotations bcs these r just his canon actions) but i do wnna be transparent that this talks abt said shitter actions n if thts too much fr you yr welcome to scroll away :] gen this isn't a slight do what ygotta! also warnings fr canon typical toxicity and suicide

cwil is capable of being. extremely monumentally cruel. and this isn't a unique trait, many of the dsmp characters are, but the consistency and selfish root and target of his actions iit's like. i feel like i'm in a mass gaslighting campaign or smthng i like never see ppl rlly look at the shit he's done and contend w what it means.

objectively, he's a antagonist in all this, there's really no arguing here. in the pogtopia-manburg war, he's a bad guy who wants to blow up the crowd w him multiple times. in revival, he's a tense force tht imposes on people. the full quote isn't "ctubbo doesn't wnna be like cschlatt." it's "ctubbo doesn't wnna be like cschlatt, and ctommy doesnt wnna be like cwilbur." they're both on the hitlist, like. what does tht say. but, of course, crucially, fr both, he's also a victim. his antagonist role doesn't mean he's not sympathetic, it doesn't mean he wasn't being set up, it doesn't mean he wasn't sick and scared and delusional, it doesn't mean that nov16 wasn't a deeply horrifying suicide attempt. it's all awful and terrible, and he didn't deserve that. and tht can coexist w the fact that the totality of his targets, the power he wields over them, how conditional the remorse he shows can be.* (i won't even get into his wack ass apology streams.) like. you surely get what i'm saying. all those actions he chose to do can be awful too. it can just be two things.

*and ithink thts wht makes ghostbur so effective,,,at least did b4 those stupid ass retcons but idgaf, if it spits in the face of its own internal consistency and lore and betrays the core of the characters, idon't have to hold onto it. so taking this as it was written: ghostbur says he wants to distance himself frm alivebur. the point of that is alivebur n ghostbur ARE the same person. even if it's blurry, even if the intricacies of limbo make things harder to explain. but tht fractured sense of self, a coping mechanism to even be able to live w yrself...he wants to seperate himself in the sense of separating his actions, not wanting to be hated, not wanting the weight of it on his shoulders...there's a Lottttt of scenes where ycn p easily parse tht ghostbur DOES remember more thn he lets on, he just doesnt wnna look at it. he cant bare to. it's tragic.

i'm bringing this up bcs up to this point, iwas v much still on the guys side even if he was. intense smtimes, to put it mildly. ycould rlly feel tht sense of remorse and pain and iwas like ok...this will all. mean smthng. but for it to do that, it needs to contend! it needs to take his mistakes seriously while understanding the pain that lead to them, it needs accountability and sympathy and an actual point, and instead it delivers on fuck all. it wants to have its cake and eat it too, telling us the audience oh! isn't he sooo sad! please extend your understanding! while still having him over and over do worse and worse actions tht "being sad" don't erase. while not wanting that understanding to extend to the people he harms.

and it doubles down on that all through the revival arc.

if i may be so bold. ithnk ppl smtimes overstate or overlean on cwil mental illness as sm barrier. it's always this nebulous third thing tht conveniently absolves him of everything,,,even the smallest, more coherent moments robbed of their agency bcs its more palatable fr him to be sm poor baby woobie rather than sm jackass who smtimes just makes the wrong fucking choice. which imo is the more interesting version of the character, as is for all characters!

and ithnk tht v revival arc then also recontextalizes his earlier actions...ythink its just the circumstances, it's largely, maybe, probably just that, maybe, and sure, he's being selfish and shitty, and awful, and he's still responsible fr a lot of it, but he's struggling, he's hurt, it's fucking SAD! i feel for the guy, it all just fucking sucks!! and that hope is still there. and then you're forced to see tht it WASN'T like sixty flukes, it wasn't just this continuous, continuous set of mistakes, it wasn't smthing he... cwilbur just fucking sucks. ok? he just fucking sucks sometimes. he'd short sighted and self serving and places his own needs above others. over and over and over.

he abandoned his son b4 and after revival. he disowned fundy, mocked him for his spy efforts, fucking. waterboarded him? even if it's more comedic on his end, this was a v serious moment fr cfundy! and tht never comes to fruition bcs cwil Doesn't Respect Him. can you imagine if any other character did this? he watches his kid kill himself infront of him, just like his own dad did to him, and then left him behind. never checked on him again despite saying thts all HE wanted fr HIMSELF. cwil got revived and he never even looked for cfund, despite cfundy counting on it, preparing fr a grand total of nothing. even cq feels so bad abt it, he lies to cfundy's face to spare his feelings abt the fact cwil has been popping into lnv to see everyone BUT cfundy. wow.

he CHOSE to scapegoat tubbo, demean him, and physically punish him fr disagreeing him on nov16! he wanted the destruction to hurt ctommy the most specifically, but whn ctommy rejected being on stage in the middle of a pre-planned ctech attack, he was more than happy to settle fr ctubbo!! LOL. (and i'll get into how he treats ctommy more just hold on a second.). cwil was more than happy to put this kid in this position knowing ctech would shoot him in the face. which is the second time he's done that. btw. three if we wnna count the pit and a different target. which i do. LOL. you're a good kid, and an even better spy. i'm going to put you in a position i instigated and i consider dangerous for my own gain. you're not a coward, tubbo, are you? give the signal so i can blow up the crowd with you inside it. 😁🔫 guys.

ctubbo has his batch of "safe targets", ppl he cn talk to and confront knowing they won't hurt him, and cwilbur just isn't one of these people. he made the kid CRY upon revival. he put him in a position where his feelings were more important thn ctubbos grief and fear, both b4 and after death, GETS HIS HUSBAND KILLED over literally nothing, then gives him the empty gesture of an empty country after, smthng ctubbo never wanted, who stays quiet and small and yessiring all the way, in a direct parallel to all the other times he's disrespected him, as well the country being a parallel to the time he set it up fr him to get shot in the face. twice. need i mention. smthng tht perma-killed cschlatt. btw. which iwill get to ☝️ as cschlatt and cwil are canonical parallels, and it provides insight to my point here. they r v v v important and crucial to eachothers arcs, and yet the way they're treated by the larger fanon is completely different and erm. well. like. ido fear it's relevant.

ppl looove to invent shit fr cschlatt, say he's this n that, crazy n volatile, take scenes where he's doing fuck all and interpreting it in the most bad faith way possible to reverse engineer a point. it's shitty n bad fr a multitude of reasons, which i've touched on quite a few times, but it bcs extra stupid bcs erm. uhm! cwil is actually the one doing all that shit. like. on screen. on screen! HE'S the one who actually had a son, who he abandoned and is awful to! HE'S the one who HIT TOMMY fr disobeying him in a srs context like ihave the clip if ywnna act crazy!!! cn you imagine another character doing shit like this? HE PERMA-KILLED JACK W HIS OWN TWO HANDS IN A PARANOIA EP! which again, that paranoia and illness- it's awful, it's sad, he's not well, same as other characters but. like. is there nothing to unpack here? he never apologizes to the guy! he never feels bad! he never visited him whn he came back! he didn't pass it off (like he was capable of doing w the pit), he didn't perma-die in the grief/confusion of it then ask in genuine shock how smone else let that happen and then forget he ordered the execution in the first place, fully thinking the person was still alive. cwil just did it. and nobody cares! what does that mean? how am i supposed to feel abt that?

and tommy oughwmmy goddddd. how much sympathy am i supposed to feel when he spent the entire three months ctommy was trapped alongside him in limbo, in SENSORY DEPRIVATION, insulting him, demeaning him, saying he deserved to be dead and this is all there is and leaving the kid horrified of him, of himself. cschlatt is right there with them, w the same disorders he has, and he's perfectly capable of leaving the kid alone and still being held in a "looking up to" status by ctommy even up to the last streams. how am i supposed to feel when he set sm shit abt pogtopia up to hurt ctommy the most as possible? insulting him demeaning him? ctommy says himself tht cwil scares him, tht he wants to protect others frm the manipulation he recognizes he's done to him, admits in a moment of panic tht he's actually v hurt cwil threw away his sacrifice w his discs back in the day fr his ego! he himself says this b4 cutting himself off! and none of this even scratches the SURFACE of wht cwil is willing to do to this kid he considers an extention of himself.

on that point. why is it so easy fr ppl to discard that on an objective level, cwil wanted ctommy to "understand wht he feels", and tht means becoming goddamn suicidal. he wanted to break him down, he wanted to twist the knife, he was willing to say anything and do anything as long as ctommy suffered so HE could feel justified in his OWN suffering. this sweet little boy who fights for him and does anything he asks, who looks up to him like he's his world, who puts himself in danger over and over again as long as he can make cwilbur safe and happy. EVERYTHING ctommy does is fr him. and cwil chooses HIM to lash out on. he finds every angle to humiliate and isolate this boy who he raised like oughmny god! this isn't a partners conflict w ppl of the same age w no real power over eachother, this is a grown ass man who can't stop punching down at the kid HE raised tht HE made his family tht HE made unspeakably codependent on him!

how am i to take him manipulating ctommy into not entering lnv, to not hang out w smbody who has proven over n over again to be in ctommys corner in a "him vs me" framing? smone who point blank calls out and gets incredibly upset on ctommys behalf fr the awful things cwil does to him? why SPECIFICALLY is smone like that a threat to cwil? is weaponizing the pit tht HE built and HE encouraged to paint cq as crazy, whn he's canonically v weak not a threat and not willing to hurt ctommy in any srs context, while HE was the one who pushed an actual dangerous fuckhead to beat him into the ground? (and again, this parallels the festival, ik he's manic and sick, but then tell me why he did it another time before and another after!!) wht abt the time he forced ctommy into the prison in sm elaborate plan to make HIMSELF feel better, destroying ctommy's most important property on a lie so the kid CRIES CONVINCINGLY ENOUGH HYSTERICALLY ENOUGH? actively putting a target on ctommys back then ABANDONING HIM COMPLETELY, LEAVING CTOMS SOBBING AND BEGGING FR HIM TO NOT LEAVE HIM TO THAT? are we actually SERIOUS?

so what, are all these things RLLY abt just cwil hurting Himself? none of this is allowed to be his fault, none of it affects the other characters? is this framing of his entire character actually worth something out of a deliberately obtuse way to declaw whtever he does? no guys, it isn't him hurting others, its just at himself! like 1. you cannot do both things at the same time, and 2. does tht suddenly erase the v real damage he does to them? 3. IT'S NOT EVEN TRUE.

and b4 iget sm beastly ghoul on my house, lemme be clear. ☝️ i thnk mental illness objectively changes how smones actions should be read and taken as, and i DO think mental illness cn just be an "excuse", whatever the hell tht means fr some. it's all case by case. like sorry if smone is so delusional they don't know wtf is happening, there's no reason to punish them bcs WHY. wht do you gain frm hurting smone who can't see the full picture in that way. and yes, ik sm ppl cn cling onto things a touch too much but. yget what msaying, right?

the point i'm trying to make here is tht even tho thts my belief, i still v much think the ppl affected are allowed to feel as they may. a car accident may be an accident, but the ppl injured are still injured. and i think if ycrash a car you should maybe pay the damn insurance! or accept you did it! or at the v least feel sm kinda bad abt it in a way tht isn't exclusively self pity! like fawk!!! and esp when you do it COHERENTLY! ON PURPOSE! SELFISHLY AND CONSTANTLY AND MALICIOUSLY!!! LIKE FAWKKKKK!!!!!

so to close my thesis, again. i do think he's still, still, despite everything, despite EVERYTHING, i think he can be redeemed. if it was up to me, he should heal on his own goddamn time, his own new set of people, and he'd never fucking see these kids again i swearrr to god i'd kill him. and i didnt even touch on other ppl he acts crazy to!but. idk. it's crucial tht these like sweet-hearted, warm-hearted, forgiving, family first, the love was there, we choose eachother ass little freaks would still accept him into their life, even if it took sm work, even tho ithink they'd be better off never seeing his ugly ass again. so i'll just stand over him w pliers and if he does anything crazy mgnna start prying out his knuckle bones one by one i'm 100% srs. and i personally will never ever ever ever be fucking w him again. EVER.

[yin-shimo]

RATING CC SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO

KLUBB "'Nepo Baby' Collection" ed.

RATE LIST:

poly count

mesh visuals

weights

UV texture

universability

1. POLY COUNT

Today's collection comes with 7 CAS meshes (a total of 11 including 2 BB objects that I won't cover) . Get ready lmao,

Boots with Legwarmers: 109,802

Flannel Shirt: 36,504

Nails: 21,120

Necklaces: 19,300

Rings Left: 17,664

Rings Right: 17,664

Skirt: 64,227

Sunglasses: 8478

Tank Top: 42,238

How does this compare to Maxis clothes?

Alright, for the boots with legwarmers, the highest poly count i saw for boots was 1,478. If we round up 109.8k to 110k and use the average of 900 for maxis boots we have a ratio of 110: 1.

Flannel Shirt: I'll be using yesterday's top reference (of 4.2k) and rounding the shirt to 37k. This gives us a ratio of 185: 21 or 8.81~: 1 if you want smaller numbers.

Nails: the highest was 1040, so if we round 21.1k to 21.2k and the nails to 1.0k, we get a ratio of 106: 5

Necklaces: highest I saw was 3688 (no scarf or chokers included) so well round that to 3.7k and keep the other at 19.3k giving us a ratio of 193: 37 or 5.22~: 1 if you want smaller numbers.

Rings: we'll round them to 17.7k and the highest maxis ones I found were 364 (we'll round to 360). This gives us a ratio of 295: 6 or 49.1˙66: 1 in smaller numbers.

Skirt: We will round down to 64k and the highest (short) skirt I found was 1674 which we'll round down to 1600 giving us a ratio of 40: 1.

Sunglasses: we'll round it to 8.4k the maxis sunglasses that look closest to it are 804 (so we round to 800). This will give us a ratio of 21: 2 or 10.5: 1.

Tank: lets round to 42.2k. Most similar maxis tank was 3.2k. This is a ratio of 211: 16 or 13.2~: 1 for smaller numbers

Rating: 0/10 [honestly can I give it a negative 5?]

2. MESH VISUALS

Covers questions like "Does this CC look as it does in its AD?" and "Is there any clipping?"

Problems 1 & 2:

surprisingly, the clipping issues were minor, for problem two maybe weight tweak needed and the first lower poly would suffice as the lovely @saruin informed me could happen with high poly clothes.

Next... is the textures themselves.

(klubb to the left | AxA to the right) Need I say more? the texture is abysmal.

(klubb left | saruin right) Yeah, nails are small but theres better detailed ones for waaay less poly. The only reason i won't complain too hard is because nails lack an actual UV spot.

Lastly, (no pics) the tank top itself I actually enjoy texture wise. Same for the necklace and shoes, but the skirt and flannel top are definitely not the greatest. The colors themselves are relatively pleasant to the eyes.

Rating: 6/10

3. WEIGHTS

Again, this pretty much overlaps with the previous section (maybe ill merge them lmao) and aside from the flannel shirt already addressed the rest of the cc didn't have any issues.

Rating: 9/10

4. UV TEXTURE (mapping)

This section is meant to answer the question,

"Will any conflict with other parts such as shoes, hats, etc?"

No conflict: flannel shirt, tank top, glasses, rings (you just cant use others from the same hand).

Minor conflict: shoes may conflict with certain bottoms, skirt may conflict with certain tops, necklace may conflict with nose rings, and whatever biceps cover lmao.

Major conflicts: nails, high chance of conflicting with tops.

Rating: 4/10

reason: it's annoying af to know their OWN skirt and shoes somewhat overlap each other and would have easily avoided it if they simply moved the textures a little lower/higher into their proper sections.

5. UNIVERSABILITY

This section covers questions like:

"Does this work for large muscular and/or fat sims?" "Does it work if my sims are the lowest body mass?"

The necklace does not properly morph with max fat/muscle, but the tank, shoes, skirt, flannel do.

BUT i have come to realize there are bigger weight issues at the armpit area of the flannel upon checking the outfits on multiple sims. Ying's stupid ass hair blocked some of the clipping lmao. So weights is now 5/10 instead of 9/10

Rating: 8/10

and lastly:

Questionnaire:

Would you recommend to a friend: NO. Would you use this item yourself: Maybe if the poly count was lower. Paywall Status: PERMA-PAYWALLED. Additional Info: $5 USD for current month (collections not included [??]), $10 collections + 2months prior, $25 access to lifetime cc. Additional Info #2: They have a free sample of the tank top...(yay more SL behavior [sarcasm])

OVERALL RATING: 10%

[starrydreamerluna]

KPDH FIRST WATCH

Spoilers ahead!

IM NOT EVEN 3 MINUTES IN AND THE LORE?!

So there's always been a trio of hunters, and it's their voices that ignite the souls in others and create the honmoon

Also that's a barrier and not a physical object like I assumed-

RUMI'S MOM WAS A SUNLIGHT SISTER?! SHE'S DEAD?!

Zoey is Korean American!

AND SHES THE MAKNAE

Mira being the visual was not my expectation but bro I love it. Her being the black sheep too? Peak

OKAY THE FOOD SCENE WAS KINDA ICK BUT LIKE I GET IT? it's just not my thing.

So rumi does know about the markings- now I'm curious.

THE EXPRESSIONS ARE ADORABLE

HOW ITS DONE ITS GLORIOUS!

OKAY GWI MA TIME

JINU THE BARD

OH SHIT HES ACTUALLY SINGING-

BENI TIMEEEEEE

"Oh yeah totally gonna work. 100%"

WHAT MEMORIES JINU WHAT MEMORIES?!

I'm assuming the girl is either rumi or jinus sister

STRATEGY MENTIONED

Strategy PLAYING?!

Zoey and her brainrot about turtles I love it

Rumi stop doing shit without asking the girls

OH FUCK GOLDEN ALREADY?!

YUP RUMI IS A DEMON- if they succeed with golden she goes too.....

OH FUCK ITS TAKING HER VOICE-

Zoey is so stupid I love her

Beni/abs: appears on screen.

Me: pausing and screaming

BENIIIIII

Oh my god zoey with the abs-

She's fucking hopeless

THE THING OH MY GOD

Zoey u little freakazoid/pos

RUMI EATING HER WORDS IMMEDIATELY WHEN JINU SHOWS UP

LMAO THE MEET CUTE IS SO DRAMATIC AND FOR WHAT (A little long for my tastes)

LMAO SHES SO PISSY

SODA POP.

ZOEY GOT FUCKING SNIPED(gonna say it was beni who sent both hearts at her)

"magicians.....I mean DEMONS- OBVIOUSLY DEMONS"

BABY SAJA IS THE RAPPER?! THE FUCK?!

"To be fair that's also something a magician would do." ZOEY YOU FUCKING MORON I LOVE YOU

The fucking kill saja nails I'm dying

Spicy challenge? Lmfao

JINU KNOWS THEYRE THERE-

Abs knows what the fuck he's doing.

JINU SLIPPING UP LMFAO

THE GIGGLE

Watch the face I need it to steal ur fans HOWLING

Oh shit mira and zoey r in trouble

JINU KNOWSSSSS

OH SHIT-?!

SO HE HID HER MARKS

Oh jinu lore time

OH WAIT GWI MA KNOWS BUT CANT CONTROL RUMI

OH OKAY SO GWI MA IS LITERALLY LIKE SELF LOATHING INCARNATE (funny that's exactly like the nightmares and morgana from my oc story.) So I think he actually may try to turn all 3 girls with their insecurities.

ZOEY LIKES MYSTERY TOO LMFAO

TAKEDOWN TIME

Rumi stop asking questions ur gonna get ur ass caught

I love zoey being our little music monkey I love her

The saja boys fans r called pride that's so cute

OF COURSE THEY WENT TO THE FANSIGN

BENI AND ROMANCE AND MIRA LMFAO

ZOEY DOES ACC LIKE MYSTERY- YKNOW WHAY ILL TAKE IT AS 2ND ZOEYTP

Lmao THE FUCKING FAN WITH THE SHIRT

ZOEY GOING BAD SAJA BOY HOWLING

Understandable arguments

Zoey crashing out

They're all having their "purpose" challenged. Zoey is the lyricist and they want to change her lyrics

Rumi is the singer and her voice is going.

Mira wanted somewhere to be herself.

FREE IS SO GOOD

OKAY SORRY I JUST KEPT WATCHING HOLY SHIT I LOVE IT

Beni fucking killing it in your idol I actually squealed

Zoey and mira slowly giving in to the song-

YES RUMIIIIII

JINU NO-

Yeah okay I'll take zoeynie as my top zoey ship, and mystery/zoey as a 2nd.

I love the details on the white versions of their outfits for the last song

THEM CRYIBG TOGETHER

ZOEYS YELLOW HOODIE WITH THE TIGER-

[vesanal]

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊The 4th Day of Writemas₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

Wahoooo00oo! Another day, another WRITMAS!!! (it’s still Dec 4 for me, trust me <3) For those of you who don’t know about it, here is the invite post again!!! And here are the prompts for today! 

Prompts used: 

(only 2 today lol)

Narration: The knife trembled in their hand.

Feeling: Aching

Today I am focussing on a character that hasn’t gotten any attention yet. So get ready to meet Idalia Maeres! 

Read about the WIP here!!

Here it is for y’all!

------------------------------

It hurt worse in the winter. Nothing could dull it. Sometimes she had to just live with a poorly dealt hand. Idalia pushed herself off the bed and onto her feet, where she fell onto the nightstand trying to keep herself upright. Putting on her coat and gloves, she picked up her crutch and hobbled out of her room. Across the room she saw her crew members. All gathered, intensely conversing in a huge clump in the main hall, probably cutting up about whatever stupid inside joke they had this week or poking fun at all the rookies messing up the simplest of things. 

Eyes narrowing, Idalia walked herself over to the hoard of people, swiftly pushing herself off the ground with each stride. Surely, they could take on some more work. They seemed to be free enough to stand around. Maybe lighten the load for herself. All of those years of experience should amount to something. Hot steam rose up within her, boiling in her mind. Milev depends on us. We can’t risk their livelihood so we can sit on our asses and let them die. Idalia paced her breath back down to steady tempo. She took one final, sharp breath in to prepare her for some lecturing with such children.

“What are we doing here? No, no. Let’s break it up, we have jobs to do.” Idalia chastised them with a stern yell, then adding,  “Why are we up so early, anyways? You didn’t have night watch last night.”

All heads turned towards Idalia. Every face that looked at her had a twisted, confused expression. What’s going on? Why am I always the last one to know about things? Idalia thought, unsure as to why all of her employee’s eyes were latched onto her.

“Ma’am, do you not know what happened this morning?”, Her second officer rushed over, securing his hands around her arm to hold her steady. Warm hands like his made the pain seem so far away, even if it was only for a moment.

“No. I don’t know anything about this morning. Now, I am still your boss so, you lot better tell me what's going on here.” 

Bodies shivered across the room when she questioned them. Silent sobs broke out. A few crew members fell onto each other for support. Idalia blinked a few times looking around the room. She had never seen them act this way. Something serious was up.

“We found this.” a young rookie said, shaking. They held out a strange object in their hand towards Idalia.  As Idalia inspected it further, she began to recognize familiar patterns all over it. The knife trembled in their hand as they handed it over. Taking it in her hand, Idalia felt the curvature of the blade with her worn fingers. Feeling the smooth hard wood of the hilt curl around the circumference of the handle before meeting the glistening, black metal that reached beyond it. The blade itself coiled, too. Three sides of iron, all swirling around in a cylindrical shape, sitting firm where the cross guard laid. Everything about the blade was twisted. Twisted, like its owner, the Bone-Binder’s. Idalia closed her eyes and slowly sipped in air through her nose. Why was he here? Why has he returned?

------------------------------

(PLEASE tell me if you wanna get added to a tag list here because I genuinely don't know who to tag lol. I'll edit this and add you in!! <3 )

TAGLIST SO FAR: @sunflowerrosy @seastarblue

@thebookishkiwi @viridis-icithus @corinneglass

Our wonderful host <3 → @agirlandherquill Have a lovely day everyone!!

[tacoscribs]

hey guys i fear i have Another confession to make 🧎‍♀️ *drops my stupid fckin monsters vs aliens sona*

more info under the cutttt because these guys have been the only thing running through my mind lately 😭

so her backstory isnt fully fleshed out (i still can’t exactly figure out a good monster name for her yet… someone lemme know if they have any ideas 💀), but its based off of a true story of my own!

one day i was walking home and i came across a tiny bird chillin on the sidewalk; i got rlly confused and worried bc bro wouldn’t move, and these lil fellas usually hop off or fly away upon someone approaching. so i checked bro out, and got em on my finger (after this point, in my irl story, this bird flew off of my finger peacefully). in hindsight, i know this story could’ve gone way worse on my end, considering i didn’t know if there was anything wrong with this lil birdie 😭 so in this story, to adapt to mva, there was something Very wrong with this bird, it attacked me and something about that incident kicked off my transformation into a Goddamn Harpy.

some notes on dynamics and such…

• upon first arrival at Area 5X, she was Terrified. of course, having never seen creatures like the other monsters, the shock of the new form of her’s, and the change in environment as well… it was a lot to take in.

• everyone finds it a little ridiculous that she was captured simply for having wings, but it was reasoned that she was considered an ‘Unidentified Flying Object’ 💀💀

• when the other monsters learn where she came from, they find it anticlimactic that she came from Connecticut. like damn bitch you really came from there? the most boringest state ever? are you fr? even Monger admits he’s never seen any monster or alien activity in that state in all his years, it was a brow-raiser for him.

• if Area 5X really do be in California, then cue the culture shock of being on the complete opposite side of America. the monsters ask her questions about Connecticut like its a different planet and it lowkey pisses her off.

• it also pisses her off to find out that she can’t see glass at times because of this new change of her’s. she’ll run/fly into glass a lot.

• they offered her birdseed as her first meal at Area 5X. she enjoyed it more than she’s willing to admit

• she shows up post-sta’abi introduction, so thankfully she didn’t get hit with that violent fuckin wake up call and elevator ride like Susan did when she first arrived. that would’ve actually made her tweak tf out

• while adjusting to the new living situation, she was eventually given her own personal wardrobe besides the typical jumpsuit like Susan wore. her and Monger went back and forth for a little while because he wouldn’t allow her skirts or dresses for obvious reasons. she understands, but argues that hey, if Dr.Cockroach gets to have uranium, and B.O.B. and Link get to walk naked 24/7, how come I can’t get a simple outfit i enjoy? how is this fair?? this dispute would later get resolved with skorts and shorts to wear under the dresses.

• Monger also wouldn’t have allowed her high heels, but his nosy government ass deep-dived into every little piece of info he could find on file about her. he learned she’s a Certified Toe Waker due to The ‘Tism and can easily work and even run in heels. heels also prove to be a good weapon on their own so he said fuck it and let her have em.

• speaking of that, she doesn’t know, but Monger is aware of almost Everything that happened to her in the past because of his deep-diving. after a while of staying there, she got an impression of what everybody around her was like, and some dynamics were set in place. she kind of sees Monger as a father figure in a way.

• one day, Monger’s verbally reprimanding her for leaving a doodle on a sticky note under the table in the War Room. she calls him dad in response and when she notices his surprised reaction, she tries to backtrack, playing it off as an accident and/or a joke. Monger wouldn’t admit it, but this event plagued his mind for a while, he really wasn’t sure how to feel about it. he already read up on her Daddy Issues, so he wasn’t expecting such a label coming from her of all people. not even B.O.B. had called him dad before, and he raised that gelatinous son of a gun. it was a Monster First for him. he’d especially started to find this new label conflicting for him when he’d see her put into danger by whatever situations the monsters get themselves into.

• on the topic of doodles, similar to how Dockroach had notes written all over his room’s walls; her room’s walls are covered from top-to-bottom in art, all accumulating over time. the longer she stays at Area 5X, the more of her art that litters the common living areas… *COUGH*rise of the tmnt-esque*COUGH* shes not supposed to be allowed to draw anywhere else but her own stuff, but rules got looser over time, and it was quite harmless. she even did a portrait of each monster for each of their room’s walls after really settling in. B.O.B. has a little area on his wall thats damn near a collage of a buncha doodles of him… most looking similar to others. B.O.B. sees her draw him the same way as always and is just like “OMG YAYYY AGAIN DO IT AGAIN” and she happily obliges. Dr.Cockroach’s room in particular lacks a portrait for a while, though.

• for a bit, she actually doesn’t vibe with Dr.C at all. the way he talked to her about certain things made her think he took her for a fool, and made her feel stupider than B.O.B. at times. (no offense to that blue blob, we love a brainless king)

• she also has Very Big Emotions about seeing adults mistreating children, so to see Doc have rivalry with Squeep, a little alien kid, her dislike for him was Set. meanwhile, she got along with everyone else, especially Squeep, pretty swimmingly. Squeep almost feels a bit bad she has someone like me around being so protective of her against Dr.C.

• spars with Link!!!!!

• B.O.B. will request that she picks him up and fly him high up above ground and drop him from there. he finds fun in it, and Susan refuses to indulge in that silly activity for him on the regular.

• she’ll also take Squeep for a fly too. let em see the sights, she can only assume the kid’s stressed from whatever school work she’s got anyways

• i end up being quite the lighthearted character on the monster team, but the others will sometimes get hit with the whiplash that i, too, can be Rather Serious at times

• her and Susan quietly gossiping while she sits on her shoulder lmfao. sta’abi can’t sit with us!

• speaking of, sta’abi has a pure hatred for me. the fact that i’m bird-like, my kindness she doesn’t understand, the fact that i apologize so much- the bitch wants me dead

• another reason sta’abi would dislike me is… i’d probably see that damn vornicarn as a Big Ole Puppy, and get along with it Very Well. everybody’s flabbergasted to see this. i vibe with dogs Hard 99% of the time, so i eventually end up training it behind the aliens’ backs. that big mf may be a rowdy individual, but bro just needs to be tamed. i refuse to believe for a second that its a purely evil creature, and i think the vornicarn would be drawn to me based on that too.

• in a situation where me and the boys are surrounded and my literal fight or flight kicks in, once i’d try to fly, the others would desperately try and cling onto me to escape as well. i can hold Dockroach just fine, he’s a light mf; but the other two? forget it, if i’m up in the air and i’m carrying all three monster boys we are CRASH LANDING FAST.

• one day i learn about Link’s bun-bun and i feel so bad for him and the situation he went through with that that i draw him a portrait of bun-bun on his room’s wall somewhere too. i had a pink bunny plush of my own that i loved very very much growing up and his story made my heart hurt 😭

aaand thats all i can think of at the moment. i’ll make more posts if i figure anything else out! feel free to ask anything about her :P

[artbyblastweave]

So on balance I generally do enjoy Mark Millar, and a big part of why I enjoy Mark Millar is that a lot of his superhero stuff demonstrates the same awareness about the genre that Worm does- the sense of an unstable equilibrium, that the center cannot hold in the superhero universe as typically presented. Jupiter's Legacy, Super Crooks, Old Man Logan, Wanted, The Ultimates. Arguably Civil War. I have a whole other post buried in my drafts about how that bleak throughline keeps cropping up in his cape work. Specifically in his cape work, also- the man has written a lot of lighthearted, at times almost cloyingly sincere and optimistic one-off miniseries in other genres. Starlight: The Return Of Duke McQueen, Huck, Chrononauts, Beyond. In tension with this cynicism about the capes is the fact that he also clearly believes that superheroes are really cool, and on some fundamental level a really deeply noble and empowering idea. Even Wanted, which is probably the most thoroughly tasteless thing of his that I've read all the way through, I recall as having had this interesting subtext of anger over the fact that there's an audience for a superhero work as cynical and grotesque as Wanted. ("Fine. We took all the whimsy and wonder and derring-do you claim to have outgrown out back and shot it. The corpse is cooling. Are you happy yet? Dark enough yet? Mature enough yet? This is what you wanted right?") Anyway, I think Kick-Ass the comic suffers gigantically from a failure to break in one direction or another, in regard to that tension. It gets very, very close to saying useful and interesting things about the genre at several points but keeps undercutting itself by transforming back into the object of its own attack. There's this initial line of questioning, right, which is, "what kind of person, in real life, might actually try this? How would it go?" And the comic has some compellingly miserable answers to that question! Everyone in costume is chasing the same power fantasy, clinging to the idea of being somebody. Dave is, in his own words, motivated by "the right combination of loneliness and despair," and he's not competent. He alternates between minor wins and brutal hospitalizations, the first two issues and change is just the world punishing him for being dumb enough to try this, and for the most part he's a LARPer, a self-identified asshole. Red Mist is a rich kid playing with his father's money. Big Daddy and Hit-girl are framed as the "real deal", genuinely competent in their ability to dish out violence, and the comic to some extent has the self-awareness to recognize that people who were actually any good at this would be even more horrifying than the LARPers. The Reveal that Big Daddy was an accountant- that he made up a tragic backstory and made his daughter a human weapon in order to pursue an escapist fantasy- genuinely lands like a meteor! But it fucks it up, because it also needs to be cool, cool enough to keep our attention, and so it pulls an about face. The horror of Hit-girl gets subsumed by the realization that she's also the coolest thing in the whole book, almost loadbearing in terms of having actually cool and interesting things happen on-panel, and so the end of the book turns into the exact kind of superviolent revenge story it was initially skewering as unrealistic and disconnected from the much more grounded grief and loss Dave is experiencing at the start of the book. Dave's costumed escapades goes from being an obviously stupid and egotistical attempt to claw back control of his life to... an actual method by which he claws back control of his life, and not in a way that feels terribly well-earned!

The sequels double down on this- alternating between "in real life this would be cheap and stupid and tinged with anticlimax" and "woooo! Let's ape Tarantino until something cool happens!" and honestly, that feels less worthy of analysis because what I'm pretty sure happened there is that the movie blew up and created A Demand For More Kick-Ass. In general what it feels like fundamentally happened here is that you ask, "what if superheroes were real," you land on the answer of "they'd look stupid, be stupid and die badly," but what does that leave you with? It's not like that wasn't the obvious answer already and it's definitely not eight issues of material. He can't pull the trigger on having everyone involved die badly in meanspirited ways to drive the point home, and he never quite threads the needle back to the reconstructive middle ground he badly wants the book to inhabit, the "real heroes work in soup kitchens and look out for their neighbors" area. Things just happen.

That said, the gag about the astroturfed swear-word "Tunk" is fantastic. 10/10, no notes