#Anyway my point is people seem to have a lot of opinions on this coffee thing.

[wzrd-wheezes]

Our Band. Part 1

Remus Lupin x Reader Band AU

AN - hello i've been absolutely itching to write this fic since I started thinking about it. I'm sorry if not a great deal happens in this part but I just wanted to set the characters up for the next parts. Pls let me know your thoughts and if you would like another part of this because I have lot of ideas.

1.7k words

Part 2

The rain pattered against the windows of the coffee shop; it had been storming outside for most of the day and the place had been rammed with people stowing inside to escape the weather. As the day dwindled away, so did most of the customers leaving the café almost empty as it neared midnight. Y/N was working a late shift and was currently busying herself wiping down the counter and listening to the radio that was humming lowly in the background. She snapped to attention as the bell above the door jingled as someone walked in. She recognised the man as one of her regulars who often came to the coffee shop late at night. His hair was plastered to his forehead from the rain, and he ran his hand through it, ruffling it up as he walked to the counter. 

“Hey. What can I get for you?” Y/N asked, tying her apron around her waist. The man looked up, a smile forming on his lips. 

“A black coffee, please.” his voice came out a bit husky and he coughed to clear his throat, “could you put some extra sugar in it? A lot?” Y/N nodded and turned around to make him his drink. She handed it to him and told him his total. He handed her a note and when she gave him his change, he quickly dropped it into the tip jar that sat on the counter. 

“What are you doing working so late, anyway?” he asked, leaning against the counter and taking a sip of his coffee.  

“I prefer doing the late shifts.” Y/N shrugged, wiping up some coffee that had spilled onto the side, “not many people like doing them but I love them.” 

“I understand completely. Can’t beat the peace at this time of night. Just you and the coffee machine – and all the drunk blokes that come in to get a coffee to sober up before they go home to their wives.” The man chuckled sarcastically. Y/N let out a laugh. 

“They’re harmless. What are you doing out this late then?”  

“That’s a great question.” he said, “I couldn’t sleep.” his voice was a bit raspy, and he ran a hand through his hair. 

“Ah, yes, coffee – the perfect remedy for someone struggling to sleep.” she joked, rolling her eyes playfully. 

“Mhm. A black coffee with four teaspoons of sugar at two in the morning seemed like an appropriate cure.” He deadpanned. 

“Seems like a solid choice to me. Absolutely normal in my opinion.” 

“Absolutely normal.” he confirmed, “What’s your name by the way? You never introduced yourself,” 

“It’s Y/N,” she pointed to her name badge that was pinned to her apron and laughed. 

“Well. It’s nice to meet you Y/N. I can’t believe that with all the times I’ve come in here I’ve never once asked for your name.” he took another sip of his coffee, “I’m Remus. I’m sure that you’ll remember me.” 

“You’ll forever be remembered as that bloke that came in at two in the morning and ordered a black coffee with four sugars.” Y/N joked, “Maybe I’ll ask my boss to name a drink after you on the menu.” She saw Remus’s eyes light up when she said that. 

“I’m obviously joking.” she quickly added. Remus’s clutched his chest dramatically, faking being hurt. He leaned further onto the counter, resting his chin on one hand and holding his coffee cup in the other. The neon lights overhead illuminated his face, the shadows from his eyelashes casting crescent moon shapes onto his cheeks. His soft brown eyes looked tired, and he had dark smudges under his eyes – remnants of many late nights. Remus swilled the last bit of coffee around in his cup before drinking it.  

“I know, I know, I’m irresistible. It’s hard not to remember me.” a smirk played on his lips. His eyes danced lightly, twinkling beneath the fluorescent lighting. 

“I genuinely cannot tell if you’re joking or if you’re really that full of yourself.” 

“Oh, it’s a bit of both. It’s called confidence, Y/N. I’m sure you’ve heard of it before.” he mocked. 

“And you seem to have bags of it.” 

“You seem to like it.” he shrugged, “You haven’t looked away since I entered, love.” 

“Yeah, only ‘cause you’ve been stood here bothering me,” she quipped, “Now, do you need anything else, or can I get on with my job?” 

“Another black coffee and then I’ll leave you alone.” he held his hands up defensively.  

He stayed true to his word, as soon as she handed him his coffee he retreated to a table in the corner of the room. He sank down into a chair, propping his boot clad feet on the chair opposite him, the battered leather resting against the plush material. He shrugged off his leather jacket that was still damp from the storm and draped it over the chair. His hair fell messily around his face, some pieces curling up slightly as they dried from the rain. Every now and then he took a sip from his coffee, humming a tune softly under his breath.  

Remus must have sat there for a while, staring at the raindrops that raced down the window, completely in his own world. He only looked up when a familiar voice called out his name and smacked him playfully on the back. 

“There you are, Moony!” a dark-haired man spoke, appearing suddenly behind him, breaking Remus out of his trance, “I told you that he would be here, James!” 

“Sirius, what the fuck are you doing here?” Remus asked, his head whipping around to look at his friends. Sirius and James plopped themselves down on the sofa next to the armchair that Remus was sat in, the girl that was with them, perched herself on James’s knee. All four of them looked tired. Sirius was eyeing up the coffee that Remus was sipping.  

“Hey, Moony. Can I?” Sirius pointed to the coffee cup, his fingers itching to grab it. Remus raised his eyebrow and his lips pulled into a slight grimace. 

“No.” he said firmly. 

“Why so sour?” Sirius asked, his eyes looking at Remus and then darting around the coffee shop for a clue as to why he was being grumpy. “Oh my god. Did the pretty barista girl turn you down?” 

James snickered and the girl slapped him on the arm to shut him up. 

“Oh, sod off.” Remus rolled his eyes, dragging his coffee cup away from Sirius’s outstretched fingers, “I didn’t even ask her out for starters.”  

“C’mon, mate. She’d definitely want you.” Sirius said in a teasing fashion, his voice a bit more hushed than before. 

“Oh my god, Remus.” that girl that was sat on James’s lap spoke, “what if you’re losing your charm!” 

“Shut up, Lily.” Remus snapped, shooting her a look. The red-haired girl was unphased and just let out a laugh at her friends' grumpy behaviour. Remus drummed his fingers against the arm of his chair. 

Y/N couldn’t hear their conversation from where she was working but she looked over when she heard the group laugh. Sirius’ face grew red when he caught Y/N looking at the group. 

“Shit. She’s staring at us, mate.” Sirius whispered.  

Remus smirked, “No, really? I never would have guessed that.” he mumbled sarcastically. He glanced up at Y/N who was now making her way over to their table. Remus raised his eyebrows, taking a sip of his drink as he watched her approach. 

“Can I get you guys anything?” Y/N asked. The boys fell quiet. Remus’s eyes were on her, his coffee cup halfway to his lips. It seemed like he wanted to say something, a small smile on his lips. Yet, he didn’t. As he glanced at his friends, his fingers gripped his cup, his knuckles whitening as he squeezed it. Sirius looked at James with a panicked expression on his face.  

“Yeah, I'll just get a latte, please. Seen as Remus is paying.” James grinned cheekily and looked at Remus who flipped him off. 

“I’ll get the same.” said Sirius. 

“And me.” added Lily. Y/N nodded and disappeared to get their drinks. She returned a short while later with their mugs and set them down on the table. Remus pressed a note into her hand and told her to keep the change.  

Y/N’s eyes travelled down to the faded black t-shirt that Remus was wearing. She hadn’t noticed it earlier when he had his jacket on. It was oversized on him, hanging off of his shoulders and skimming over his stomach.  

“The Marauders?” she read, her eyes glancing over the words that were written on the front of his shirt, “what is that?” 

“A band.” Remus answered. 

“Our band.” Sirius confirmed, gesturing at his friends. 

“You wear your own bands merch?” Y/N laughed a little, “And you said earlier that you weren’t full of yourself.” she looked over at Remus and smirked. James, Sirius and Lily all let out a loud laugh at Y/N’s response. 

“I like this girl.” Lily said, smiling at her, “she’s fiery.” 

“In case you hadn’t noticed, Remus is slightly narcissistic.” James said jokingly. 

“James, babe, you literally wear the merch all the time.” Lily said, “You can’t talk.” James rolled his eyes and wrapped his arm around her. 

“Maybe I’ll check you guys out then.” Y/N said, “And then next time you come in you can bring me a t-shirt.”  

“And why would I do that?” Remus asked, his voice getting slightly flirty, “I can think of a few reasons.” Y/N raised her eyebrows at him, silently gesturing for him to elaborate.  

“Well, number one, I think you’d look really hot in it.” Remus said, “Number two, Sirius has been badgering me for a shirt for ages and it would really, really piss him off if I gave the one I’d been saving for him to you.” Sirius jabbed Remus in the ribs sharply. 

“Oi! You're saying that she would look better in it than I would?” Sirius asked, a shocked expression on his face.  

“Without a doubt, Pads.”  

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 21 - Hate This Town

Summary: The one where Corroded Coffin learns that life sucks no matter where you live.

Word Count: 999 (YIKEEESSSS!!!)

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Angst, Friendship, Homesickness, Reconciliation, Open-Ended

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

“I hate this town.”

It was something all four of the boys had said at one point or another during their lives.

Eddie, more than anyone, had no problem announcing it to the world. He felt stuck and resigned himself to amounting to nothing, to dying in Hawkins, a failure.

Dave was next, cursing his parents for uprooting his life time and again. Never any stability as they moved him around thanks to his dad’s job. He’s muttered it under his breath often, not only hating the new homes they landed in, but to convince himself that the homes they left weren’t that great anyway.

Jeff and Gareth had both been born and raised in Hawkins. But that also led to a sort of resentment. Seemingly stuck in a loop of close-mindedness. Never any chance for growth or change.

But then they got out.

It took a little time and a lot of effort.

Even if their music didn't get them anywhere, they had to get somewhere else.

Indianapolis became the place at first, a shoebox of an apartment that they all piled into which made it feel that much smaller. They each had odd jobs--serving, retail, operator for the phone company--and rented a storage unit that doubled as their practice space. It wasn't ideal but it was something.

Until they started spending more time working or in traffic or always lost out on gigs to bigger bands.

"I hate this city."

So they uprooted once again and dreamed bigger. Chicago this time. They were smart about it; it wasn't that far of a drive to take a few days off and hit the pavement to find jobs first. The jobs were still odd--coffee shop manager and mail room clerk--but they paid a little better. They rented a whole, albeit small, house with a garage, not just a shitty apartment.

But the growing pains were still there.

"I hate this city," they said when their neighbors alternated get-togethers in their backyards every other night, loud music keeping them up.

"I hate this house," when someone brought a date over to stay the night and the walls were paper thin.

"I hate you," when someone left the fridge open in the middle of the night and the motor went out and their food went bad.

Fights, fights, fights.

They all thought bands broke up over differing opinions or egos or whatever. Not because someone liked to drink straight out of the milk carton.

So they took a break. Just a little one. Their lease was almost up and they'd lived in that little house long enough. All made enough money to have apartments of their own...or at least so all of them didn't need to live together like the Monkees.

"We'll figure it out," Eddie, ever the leader, assured them. "And then we'll get back to playing."

Only a short break turned into a longer; turns out when you lived on opposite sides of the city and work different schedules, you can't schedule time to hang out, let alone have a band together.

"I hate this," Eddie lamented over the phone late one night. "Would you believe me if I ever said I sort of missed the old days? Missed Hawkins?"

"I think you just miss your friends," Wayne offered. "But you're welcome to come back for a visit any time you want."

The next day, he called in sick, packed up the van, and drove back home.

It was strange seeing the town he hated so much through different eyes.

Hawkins seemed smaller. Older and faded, some of that so-called charm everyone said it had just seemed sad now. Houses for sale and unfamiliar shops on Main Street.

He took Wayne out for breakfast and was shocked to find that Benny's was a Denny's now.

"People change," Wayne shrugged. "And so does the world. You think Thacker Tires was always Thacker Tires? It used to be Howard and Sons filling station way back. That's where I had my first job."

Still there were some things that never changed, like the quarry, so Eddie drove up there with his guitar to get some air and clear his head.

He was shocked to find a few familiar cars parked at their old haunt.

"Took you long enough," Gareth greeted when Eddie approached their little group. They were all sitting on the ground; Jeff had his own guitar, Gareth was beating two sticks against a bucket he found, and Dave was hunched over an old paperback.

It was silent as they mostly ignored one another. Occasionally one of them would cave and ask how the others were doing.

It was strange, having gone so long without being fully apart of each others lives. Hearing "I don't work there anymore" and "we broke up" made them feel like strangers, not the close friends they had been.

Then Jeff got to strumming a familiar tune and Eddie joined in with the harmony. Gareth not too long after providing a beat. And finally Dave--self-proclaimed non-singer--with the vocals. Until they were all giggling to themselves.

"I missed you guys," Jeff admitted. "I'm sorry it didn't work out."

"Who said it didn't," Eddie rebutted. "And who said we have to give up, we can try again. We're older, smarter--"

"Debatable," Gareth snarked, earning himself three middle fingers.

"--we don't need to give up on the dream."

"Seems like the only time we can get along is when we're in Hawkins though," Dave sighed in defeat. "God, I hate this place. I don't want to come back."

"No, hey, listen," Eddie thought back to what Wayne had said. "I don't know if you guys hadn't noticed but Hawkins changed. So did we. There's nothing about this town that makes it work. And there was nothing about Indy or Chicago that made us fail. If we want it to work, we have to try. And I don't think we've been trying for a while.

"So what do you say?"

[bunnyyamor]

° 𐐪𐑂 ♡ haunted house | HAPPY HALLOWEEN COLLAB

you go ghost hunting at an abandoned house. you want to catch it on footage a real ghost for your youtube channel. what you didn't know was that there was a ghost, lurking, ready to make any woman succumb to needy lust

ghost! mahito x f!reader ୨୧ ꒰ nsfw...mdni ꒱ spectrophilia, cream pie, money shot, non-con, small blood kink, tiny knife play, pet-names (such as human, little one, baby, good girl), spanking

pls comment + like + reblog; i would rlly appreciate it (๑˘︶˘๑)

“are you rolling?” you fixed your hair, rearranging your microphone on your sweater to be propped up to receive the best audio. 

“yeah, we’re good,” your assistant put her thumbs up.

“hello crew! today it is the spooky halloween night. everyone is out trick or treating or enjoying scary parties, maybe even staying home, feet propped up with cozy black cat socks on and some pumpkin spiced coffee as they watch hocus pocus. either way, tonights the night. you lot voted! it’s the scary, haunted house! tonight we are going, ghost hunting! that's right, you’ll see an actual real life ghost tonight!” you moved to the left in order to get the house in the shot. it was abandoned, made entierely out of wood. it seemed ancient with all the new houses being built over a street away. it was dark, the wood seeming black even in the night air. it was run down, wet mold growing on the outside. it was two stories, with a porch in the front. in maybe another world this would of been the perfect picket-white fence house, now it was used as an attraction. it was used to showcase the worlds daredevils to see who would have enough bravery to enter its four walls. “me and my assistant are going to get footage of the whole thing! it doesn’t matter what happens.” you howled, really trying to dive into the scary factor of the whole idea of halloween. “but, let’s not keep waiting. let’s go!”

you ushered the camera to come closer to you. “wait, y/n. you think this is a good idea?” your assistant looked around the property. you could tell she was afraid.

“we’re not really gonna meet ghosts. i just want the viewers to think so. i don’t believe in ghosts anyways. we’re going to be fine! it’ll be quick, easy footage. some fake loud bangs and reactions and people will believe anything.”

you both walked up the porch and knocked. “you never know, there could be a drunk inside.” as you waited at the door, no one opened. so you two showed yourself in. “well folks, it smells terrible in here. and it’s extremely cold.”

“y/n, look.” your assistant pointed the camera at the wall. coverieng the wall was old paintings.

“it’s insane they didn’t get ruin by nature.” you gasped as you ran your fingers over the faded, dusty pieces of art. one was a carriage riding in the snow with horses attached to it, the other looked like a canoe or some type of boat in the lake with women inside enjoying a nice day out. there was a painting of this same house, when it was in pristine condition. “get a load of this shot here. look how beautiful this house used to be, what a shame.” your eyes peered over to the biggest painting out of the others. it was a man, dressed in an old fashioned suit, very vintage. he had blue hair, long that was in two loose ponytails. his face looked sad, unhappy. maybe lost. “poor guy. maybe he looks like this cause he got all those scars all over his face.”

“could this perhaps be the old owner of the house?” your assistant pointed out.

you tapped your lip in thought, “you know, you could be right. folks, i read about the old owner of this house. his name was mahito. people said about him that he was a man with a few loose screws in his head. he had his own beliefs about life and society and that he was a man that would let his opinions be heard. i don’t think the town really liked him nor if he was a good guy. either way, thank you for letting us in your house.” you joked as you waved to the painting. “let’s get a move on shall we.”

you showed the viewers the kitchen and the living room. each room had a history and a story. it was almost unbelievable to you that someone used to live here and that many years ago. “people speculate that his death was caused by a murder,” you widened your eyes for the dramatic effect. “maybe his spirit still lives here. waiting in revenge.”

“don’t joke about that stuff,” your assistant pouted.

you loved the creepiness. this was what your whole channel was about. you wanted to show people the mysterious, the unknown so you followed up on folklores. yeti, big foot, the lockness monster, all stories passed down from generations to generations. this year was ghosts. maybe they weren’t real, maybe they were, either way this was the perfect place to find out.

finally, you were in the bedroom of mahito. it looked collected, almost clean. like no had ever touched it after him. “that seems so unlikely that this place wasn’t touched! there had to be some looters or druggies that came in here. the door was unlocked. they must of wanted to steal everything here.”

the bedroom was huge. it had a glorious, chivalry bed in the middle of the room and most things were covered in gold. you could tell mahito had good taste.

“i think we should leave. i’m starting to get a bad feeling.”

you waved off your assistant, “we’re fine. now i’ll make a banging noise with my feet, alright. it’ll sound like a ghost and then i’ll pretend to be scared. good? okay, action.” you stomped your feet and jerked around back and forth. “did you hear that friends? it sounded like a-”

then another stomp and a loud bang. it sounded like something or someone fell. “-ghost,” you finished your sentance with a gulp.

“y/n, was that you?” your friend shook.

“...no…” you were quiet. again the sound! it was a bump, then footsteps.

“that’s it, i’m done.” your assistant propped the camera on the wooden desk nearby. “i am not risking it.”

“m-maybe it’s an animal. yeah. stop being afraid, it’s probably nothing.”

“i don’t care. i don’t like it here. i’m going. you can call an uber. i quit.” your assistant spat, running down the stairs.

“yeah, whatever! i didn’t need you. i can take videos myself!” you shouted.

there were no more noises but you picked up your camera, aiming at the closet. “let’s see what mahito’s clothing looked like in that time.” you opened up the door and what stood there made you jump and scream! “it’s a ghost!”

there, eyes directly baring into your soul, was the ghost of mahito. he had a scowl on his face and his eyes glared at you.”i never allowed you into my house.”

“g-g-g-g-g,” you dropped your camera as you fell onto the floor. scooting backwards until your back hit the bed.

“g-g-g-g-g-what? spit it out.” mahito walked out of the closet, hands crossed.

“ghost!” you pointed to him.

“you humans annoy me. what are you doing in my house?”

you stayed quiet, shocked that this was happening.

mahito tapped his foot then retrieved a long,silver knife from his closet. “better start talking or else.”

“i was doing a video. for my youtube channel. i didn’t know you were here.”

“you didn’t think ghosts were real?” he gave a sliverying smile, almost snake like. “well, my dear, we really are real. i’m as real as you are.”

“y-you scare me,” you shook, hands hugging yourself.

mahito flew to your ear, whispering, “good. you should be scared of me.”

you finally found the courage to stand up. as you did, you hastily ran to the door. you needed to escape.

mahito threw his knife at the door, close to your head, “not so fast human. i didn’t say you could leave. try that agian and i’ll slit your throat from one ear to the other. understand.” mahito laughed. he held his belly because he laughed so much, “you should see your face right now. all the color drained! even your lips quivering.” he stepped in front of you and held your chin. he was cold, ice cold and felt almost like a feather on you. was this how it felt being touched by a ghost? his lips landed on yours. moving quickly and biting your lip. he would have proceeded had you not pushed him away. “get off me!”

“i can feel your heart. turns out, you don’t really have one when you’re a ghost. i wonder how it feels again to have blood pumping through your veins and keeping your heart alive. it must feel warm and covered like a blanket.”

“i don’t know what you want, but you better stay back.” you saw beside your head the knife and pulled it out of the door. you swung at him. “i’m warning you.”

“oh no! the girl’s got a knife,” he feined crying. “whatever am i to do.” he stopped and walked into the knife, it not puncturing him at all. in fact, the knife went through him. “i’m a ghost baby, remember.” he grabbed the back of your head and forced you onto the floor.

“stop!” you kicked your legs. “what do you want from me?”

“how bout this? if you let me do whatever i want to you, i’ll let you live. if you don’t i will kill you here right now and haunt all your friends for eternity. understand?”

he was right. you were shaking. your hands were clenched and your heart was beating uncontrollably. but you had to weigh out your options.

“alright, you can do whatever you want to me.”

“good girl,” he patted your head. “smart at last. well first i want you naked and perfectly seated on my bed.”

your breath quivered and you gulped. you must listen. you hesitantly started with your sweater then your jeans, leaving you in your bra and panties. “my, my, my, you really are beautiful, aren’t you, y/n.”

“how do you know my name?” you looked up at him.

he wrapped his hand around your throat, putting pressure there. his eyes fixated on the way your neck looked. “i heard you and your little friend. she’s smart. if i let you live then you can tell her she was right and you were wrong.”

you breathing was being shortened from his strength around your neck. his grip tightening every second. “now, i want you out of that.” he eyed your bra and panties.

“yes, sir.” you took them off, feeling embarrassed. yes he was dead and a ghost but for some reason you still were flustered. “is-is this better?” you looked away. face heating up.

he chuckled darkly, “such a good girl.” his head dipped down and kissed you. his pastel blue hair cascaded over your face. your eyebrows twisted and your hands pressed against his chest, clutching his fabric there. “mmmm,” you moaned as his tongue came out and swiped your lower lip, then intruding into your mouth, not asking, just taking. his tongue almost felt snake like. it slithering inside yours, curling and twirling.

“i haven’t been intimate with a woman in years. i too have needs. and you are going to make me feel good.” he said between kisses. his hands held onto the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. his fingers ghosted over your nipples. “so hard? if you’re so afraid then why are you so turned on, human?”

“fuck,” you moaned as you arched your back, trying to close the gap between you and him. it was your body, it was going against you.

“i want you, little one, to make me feel good. if you can make me cum, i’ll let you leave.”

your mouth was opened wide in shock. how were you supposed to do that? you felt so useless. “yes mahito.”

mahito sat on the floor and you joined him. you helped him take his shirt off and then his trousers. your eyes didn’t leave his chest. he was very well formed. his muscles protruding and his pink nipples already hard. he even had abs, trailing down to his hair above his cock which was also the grayish-blue. you took his cock and started to move your hands up and down, wanting him to feel your fingers around him. your finger nails lightly scratched the skin there. you were surprised to see it twitch a little. he moved his head back, eyes closed as he controlled his breathing. you circled his dick, making a ring with your tiny hands as you picked up the pace.

you felt powerful to have a ghost’s dick in your hand. he was enjoying himself and getting turned on.

you maneuvered his cock so that it rubbed against your cunt.

“oooh, that feels good.” mahito smiled wide. loving how you grabbed his cock and started grinding on it. the side of his dick rubbed against your clit. it was making you wet too.

“shit, fuck,” you groaned as all his veins and grooves hit your clit perfectly. the friction making you hot and a knowing feeling in the pit of your stomach. you could tell mahito was about to cum with the way his cock twitched and was swollen.

curiosity got the better of you. you had always wanted ot know what it was like to fuck a ghost. you took charge and laid mahito back and climbed on his hard dick.

“just like that, sink onto me human. i want you to fuck me so good. i haven’t been inside a cunt for years.” he heaved, eyes rolling in the back of his head.

“fuck me,” you felt impaled by his thick dick. it wasn’t long but its girth was wide. he stretched you out completely. your hands rested on his pecs and you started hopping on his cock. your boobs slapped and bounced with each move. you were riding him. loving how your weight causes him to go even deeper inside you. “that’s it, right there. all hot for me. fucking a ghost. better tell your friend or maybe your viewers how it felt to have a ghost inside you.”

“i feel so full, mahito.” you shuddered. he still felt cold to the touch. perhaps your heat could warm him up. mahito’s big hands grabbed the globes of your ass, squeezing your flesh there and slapping it, urging you to ride faster. “that’s it. ride me, human. ride me faster.” he massaged your ass, dragging you against his cock. his hands left your ass and traveled up to your neck. he squeezed tight. your vision became hazy from the breath reaching you, but you still kept fucking him. your clit was hitting deliciously on his dick. you loved how swollen he was inside you. his face contorted into a look of pure bliss. his lips were plump and swollen from his constant lip biting. you added more to that as you bent over and bit his lip. for some reason you didn’t want this but now your body needed it. it craved it. he hit your spot, over and over. you loved how it felt that he was about to split you in two with how big he was. still you kept gaining height then fell down to take him fully in, all the way to the hilt. you did that repeatedly and noticed cream on his cock, was that yours or his? you could smell sex in the air and could smell him, it was sweet almost, this was ghost cum?

mahito grabbed onto your hair, messing it up as he pulled and tugged it slightly. “that’s it. fuck me. fuck.” he couldn’t find the words. you loved bouncing on his dick, loved the face he made. “ahh, mahito. i don’t know if i can take any more.” you winced.

mahito wanted to finish, he had to. again he grabbed your neck and started annihilating you. with his ghostly strength he started pounding inside you from underneath. your mouth was in a wide o as your screams were silent. nobody has ever fucked you like this before.

“that’s it. that’s it. fuckin take it like a good little human. you know you like that.” he growled in your ear as he held your ass cheeks apart as he would exit and entere you. his cock bobbing up, making his balls slapp your cunt. it jumped up and would hit you. you coated it with your juices.

“fuck i think i’m gonna,” you cried. feeling the rise of it all.

“cum. yes, cum on my cock,” mahito urged you, snarling through his teeth. you moaned as you came. circling his cock and crying. mahito clenched your throat and groaned, feeling you contract around him. “that’s it. keep doing that. fuck.” mahito just continued inside you till you felt him about to cum. he exited and started jerking off. non-stop moaning as he cummed all over your chest and stomach. it was so much and so white. it got all over you. it was sticky and thick but still cool to the touch. that’s what was different about him.

“congrats little one. you get to live. but i’m not done with you yet.” mahito licked his lips. you were still trying to catch your breath when something caught your attention. it was the camera. this whole time it was staring directly at you and mahito and it was still recording.

“so, do you finally believe in ghosts?” mahito smirked.

your eyes shot up as you giggled sheepishly, “you heard that?

angel’s little words - i thought about this idea a while back during summer & rlly wanted to do this during halloween. and then i saw @blueparadis and @munsonsins do their collab & i thought it would be perfect! so ty for letting me enter! also isn’t our assistant so smart ＼(≧▽≦)／she left in the nick of time. i hope u liked this tho i get nervous posting different stuff esp since it’s mahito hehe

[alchemicaladarna]

Just to clarify, I am obviously talking about the characters and the QSMP as a story. I am simply an avid viewer that had too much coffee and time on their hands so I basically wrote an essay. What is it about? I have no idea. So, read it if you want, but beware that nothing at the end of this should make sense.

In my opinion, morally ambigious characters are interesting, but UNPREDICTABLE morally ambigious characters are even more fun to analyze because they take more risks and play more dangerous games. If a character was labeled as a "hero" and played on the "good" side they are guaranteed a safe spot within the group. Regardless of whether they kill or hurt others, they are on the good side because they are fighting against the corporation that is keeping them and their friends trapped in a place that is a nightmarish paradise. If they had done actions that worked against the islanders' favor, by, for example nearly getting everyone killed by explosives at a party they are justifiably labelled a villian. But what if a character played in the middle? What if they were neutral? What if they simply wanted to let things play out- sticking to the sidelines and only becoming involved when the situation benifits their entertainment?

So, pardon me for the long intro, but here's the gist folks: q!Foolish arrested q!Pac e q!Mike and unknowingly put them through loads of emotional trauma that I don't think they'll be recovering from any time soon, for fun. To a person with a normal moral compass, that's obviously fucked up.

"Friends don't send friends to prison."

In q!Foolish's perspective, he REALLY didn't think the consequences of his actions through, but he wouldn't have arrested q!Pac e q!Mike for no reason. Mr. Mustard is missing and the Federation told q!Foolish that q!Pac e q!Mike were responsible for his disappearance. At this point, I think enough time has passed that we the audience know q!Foolish is being manipulated by the Federation. Even Foolish himself knows he's being manipulated by them, yet he still partakes in this precarious game because it's simply more entertaining than just sitting on the good side and letting things play out.

Q!Foolish has never actively gone out of his way to hurt people on purpose. Does he lack some emotional maturity and the appropriate response to some situations? Yes he does; but he doesn't have malicious intentions. He's there to have fun. Where others see a dire situation- at the mercy of the inescapable claws of a malevolent corporate entity, q!Foolish sees fun and exciting opportunities. The others might not want to admit it, but aside from the tragedies and kidnappings that have occured on the island, this nightmarish paradise has provided the characters with more excitement and enjoyment, than what is worth.

But, not everyone understands q!Foolish's perspective, and that's good! That's ok! But what I'm perplexed about is their constant unjust treatment of him- the exclusion, threats, torture, many many pointless accusations disguised as interrogations, etc- simply because he did one task for the Federation. One task that affected the lives of two people, but in the end both parties communicated and forgave each other anyways. One task that required q!Foolish, and by extension, q!Jaiden to harmlessly investigate around q!Pac and q!Mike's base for a considerably long time before finding nothing that would incriminate the duo. Throughout q!Foolish's endeavour, working with the Federation cost him most of his friends' trust and gave him no benifits, but he still reluctantly chooses to carry out another task because it's entertaining. But like q!Foolish said to q!Cellbit the other day, he may be stupid, but he's certainly not an idiot, and he has limits. A lot of people, specifically q!Max don't seem to understand the concept of a neutral party. If you work for the Federation, you are a villain- and honestly, that's a fair assumption considering their reputation. But what about people like q!Jaiden? Q!Jaiden, one of the kindest people on the island, who is compassionate to everyone, even Cucurucho, who is always perceived as a malicious entity?

What exactly defines a villain in this story? In my opinion, everyone on the island has a skewed sense of morality. Everyone except Elquackity knew of his first assasination and simply watched as he lost his first life, then celebrated when he lost the other with no regards to the repurcussions of their actions or how Elq felt about all this. And while we can justify their actions because Elq hurt people before, and either brainwashed or replaced q!Quackity, how do we justify their treatment of q!Foolish even after he communicated honestly to q!Pac e q!Mike and done nothing to deserve their maltreatment of him. Maybe I'm a bit impatient, but at this point, q!Foolish's arrest, has had the same value and impact as q!Bad giving people the survey for the Federation; I'm even more willing to believe that q!Cellbit's accidental "employee of the month" investigations benifitted the Federation more than whatever measly and repititive tasks they're giving out to q!Foolish.

So, what warrants all this hate and injustice towards q!Foolish then if he's not harming anyone? Why is he the punching bag? Why is he the butt if the joke Every Single Time? What warranted all the cruel jokes and malicious beatings after the Nether event? Is it because they know he won't exact revenge upon them? Is it because, in their eyes, they only value him as a court jester and nothing more? Q!Foolish even said the Nether, an obsolete dimension of fire and brimstone, offered more compassion and comfort than a world where the sun shone and the air was less polluted because the inhabitants, his "friends" treated him with more malevolence than literal souless monsters from hell itself.

Think about q!Jaiden- a person whose compassion broke through Cucurucho's souless programming and gave it a home, a sense of safety, and relaxation. Jaiden works (and apparently worked???) with the Federation, yet she has more kindness within her than an entire group of people, on the "good" side, fighting against evil.

The truth is, there is no bad side among the islanders. The admins (meta) wrote the Federation (and codes?) as entities that the collective group should be against- a common enemy. But once you "ally" yourself with the Federation and do tasks for them does that make you the common enemy as well, or do you need to commit more heinious acts to be considered a villain?

And what about the islanders? At what point do the rest of the players begin to consider a character on the wrong side of things? At what point do they begin to abandon compassion in favor of searching for the truth? How far will they go in pursuit of the truth?

In my opinion, there are no villains in the story because everyone is capable of becoming an antagonist in one way or another. Basically, EVERYONE is morally ambiqious because they have all been antagonists to each other at some point in the tale, and as the story keeps unfolding, who knows what could happen? A character might say they are a good person, but as the story changes, so do their values, their morals, their limits. How thin can someone's patience be before it inevitably snaps?

[stardewvalleybut-i-draw]

I wrote a giant description of all the characters based on what my friend and I were talking about can I have your opinion:

I am going to be starting with the first post where I mention the balectors of Stardew valley. This means the characters that you are able to date and eventually marry if you want to do that. In order to reach perfection, which is the end of the game, you need to have someone live in your house with 12 hearts in order to give you a stardrop. Hearts are friendship points you can get by giving points. That is one of the two ways to gain friendship. The other is through cut scenes you get by progressing in your relationship and by saying things that make them either like or hate you more.

Anyways, onto the characters, starting with Haley who is the first person you mention. I am married to her which is because I like how her character progresses. As you gain friendship with her, she gets more nice and is open to different things then she was before. For example, she used to throw away her clothes each year but says she donates it now. She is super cute and sweet when she is married to her and it seems as though she is in love. She is kind of like a disney princess as you mention because she likes makeup and is girly. The next you mentioned is Leah who actually lives in a cottage and lives to forage and build for you. Penny is actually the opposite of what you said as she is horrible at baking and teaches the two children in town (and eventually Leo) Jas and Vincent and she also likes to read. Her mother, Pam, is abusive. But I can talk about her in a little bit. Abigail is the most popular person to marry as people like her because she is adventurous and wants to fight in the caves and is in a band with Sam and Sebstain. There is a theory that she is actually the wizard’s daughter because her mom admits to going to his tower and her dad says they do not look similar and the wizard says he thinks he might have a daughter. Abigail is also kind of a meme because if you give her gems she will say, “How did you know that I was hungry?” Basically everyone considers her cool and a meme and she is probably the wizard’s daughter. Emily likes crystals and parrots and dances and all of her cut scenes are basically fever dreams. So she is kind of a psychopath and super excited all of the time. Her and Haley are sisters and do not get along. In earlier versions of Maru, she had really curly hair and a lot of the community, including me, thinks she looks better like that. I also consider her hair to be kind of cool. She likes robotics.

Anyways, the next up is the marriage candidates for the guys. You are totally right that it is so random. Elliot is a writer and he is very attention starved as he writes you poems and is obsessed with you when you date him and writes you a book based on what genre you say you like. Harvey IS a simple man. His favorite gift is coffee so you definitely got that done. He has anxiety and never talks to anyone and tries to be better about that if you date him. So he is chill and kind of a meme because your stuff gets taken if you get knocked out in battle and he charges a thousand gold for repairing you. You were exactly right with Sebastian as he is moody and does not like people and plays video games from 10am to 10pm. Alex is sexist to you if you are a girl and is kind of arrogant about wanting to be a professional football player. So you are completely right. You are wrong about Shane, though, he is actually really mean to you and wants you to not talk to him. Most of his events are about him being suicidal and depressed and an acholicoal. One is where he wants to roll off a cliff and is drunk. Not mafia material. I do agree about his jacket, though, it is kind of cool. Even though it has a J on it which stands for Joja which is a company he works for. Joja is basically the definition of capitalism in this game. Sam is actually friends with Sebastian and Abigail and he wants to be in a band which he is in. They like to play DND and it is a thing in the community that Sam and Sebastain should be dating.

Onto the villagers. Willy is a fisherman and kind of chill so you were sort of wrong but I would definitely want to go on an adventure with him as well so actually I agree, you win. Everyone loves Robin and a lot of people are sad you cannot date her because of Demetris. You were so wrong about Demetris but the way. Robin is actually Sebstain’s mom’s but he is it related to Demetrius. Demetris hates Sebastian but loves Maru and this makes Sebastian really angry. Demeteruis also does not care about Robin who we love. Sandy is my favorite as she is lonely in the desert and really wants to spend time with you and is super confident and sweet. You are right about Pam, also, by the way. She is super abusive and drinks too much beer every night and treats her daughter, Penny, unfairly. She also speaks like she is living in texas. The wizard is kind of weird but he is also cool because of his magic. Krobus is amazing and he is the opinion for the aromantics as you can have him move into your house and he gives you hugs instead of kisses and is amazing. The dwarf hates Krobus because of a war between the dwarfs and the shadow people so he kind of sucks. Krobus is adorable. Jas and Vincent are both kind of weird like no one cares about them. I mean Jas is more interesting because she is related to Shane and Marine and Vincent is interesting because his dad, Kent, has ptsd from fighting in the war. Kent is kind of weird and has a freakout because of popcorn because of his ptsd. Pierre is not like Harvey at all, he steals credit for your crops and only cares about money and nothing else. No one really likes him. Evelyn is the nicest person ever as she makes cookies for you and says you can call her Granny. Everyone likes her so much. Jodi is kind of boring and depressed because she has no freedom and spends her entire life taking care of her kids, Sam and Vincent. Demetris is awful. Linus and Leo go together because they both like nature and are kind of connected to it. Lewis is not. He steals money from the town and uses it to make gold statues of himself. He is dating Marine and refuses to make their relationship public even though no one would care and is toxic. Also, the others you did not mention are Caronline and Clint and George and Gus so I am just going to explain them. Caroline is Pierre’s husband and might be cheating on him so you know… kind of bad… whatever. She is fine I guess, it is weird, no one really cares about her. Clint has a crush on Emily and is super creepy about it and is kind of disgusting and tries to be like a sob story so not thank you. George is super grumpy and rude and is in a wheelchair because of a mining accident. Gus is amazing and kind of knows everything about everyone.

Onto the next section, okay? Grandpa looks blue because he is a ghost who visits you in your third year. I do not like him. It is weird. The governor is actually like you think he is, he has no clue about anything and just wants to visit once a year to literally just eat soup. (I am not kidding, look it up, promise you.) Marlon is actually like you say and he has a crush on Marnie and is a perfect opinion for her. Birdie is part of ginger island and is super sweet and gives you fairy dust and you find something for her to remind her of her husband who died in a tragic accident. It is amazing to do because you get an award and it is just wholesome and kind of sad. Gil does supply items and he is like a moment away from death basically so you are right. Gunther is awesome and yeah, kind of suspicious but great. Okay. That is all of the villagers summarized for you.

Woo boy, you gave me a whole novel!

well, here are some of my thoughts:

Penny isn't necessarily bad at cooking,(from what I know) she just shouldn't experiment. She's also shy and emotionally sensitive

Emily is what I believe people call a "Cristal girl" not necessarily a psychopath, she also seems to have her "head in the clouds" and yeah, positive most of the time.

Ermm... actually☝️🤓 Harvey takes 10% of however much gold you have.

Dang, you kept Alex one short! But yeah, same thing as Hayley but with the ego and the sexism if you're a girl. He also lives with Grany Eveiln and Granpa Jorge because his mother died and the father was presumably abusive

To be fair to ghost grandpa, he's stuck haunting the farm until you can get the perfection statue so he kinda can't move on lmao!

Marlon is also a cool adventurer who will go down in the dangerous mines to get your stuff if you pay him

I wouldn't say Demetrius hates Sebastian, he just has a huge favoritism problem. He's also a very logical thinker from what I can interpret in his dialog

And to be fair to Clint... the Farmer's also kinda a stalker...in more ways than one...

But I'm not here to argue anything, I'm just sharing some thoughts. You have a right to think whatever you want about whatever character

Overall pretty good! 👍

[thesherrinfordfacility]

do you think Metatron was bullshitting Azi or feeding him flattery when he said “you’re a leader, you don’t just tell people what they want to hear”? I feel like that’s going to be a Significant Moment when Meta is unmasked as the Big Bad in S3 and uses it against Aziraphale, scoffing and saying he just told Aziraphale what he wanted to hear, that he’s so pathetic and lonely that he would bend over backwards and abandon Earth just because he got a few crumbs of praise from a higher power. I feel like it’s really going to fuck Aziraphale up too, and Crowley will have to rebuild his self-confidence.

hello my lovely!!!💕

oh i definitely think whether it was flattery or bullshit, or both, they both knew it to be... incorrect. when you take into account that they both know what went down in their last interaction with each other, the whole of metatron's spiel to aziraphale in ep6 feels patently false.

the crux of their conversation in s1, ep4:

put this interaction next to what he says to him in ep6, and almost every line is comparatively a lie:

"You're a leader, you're honest, you don't just tell people what they want to hear- it's why Gabriel came to you in the first place, I imagine..."

the only time that aziraphale, to my mind, truly acts like a leader specifically is at the end of s2. not really even at the airfield in s1; sure, he comes up with a way to make the angels doubt the great plan, but it's not evocative of leadership and moreso an employee springing their superiors with some convoluted (albeit valid) logic. and yes he gets his bamf-face on during the demon raid, but he's still very unsure and dithery, especially when he's pulling himself up by the bootstraps when telling shax to leave - and she then promptly puts him back in his place. and then consider every interaction he's ever had with the archangels; yeah, not quite leadership qualities, to my mind.

but the way he commands the room in the bookshop, when the demons and angels are squabbling and hissing like cats on a hot tin roof, is for me the first sign where aziraphale could actually lead. and the intriguing thing for me is that the metatron wasn't actually there for it; he was outside waiting in line and ordering his coffee from nina, but that's a different conversation.

as for whether metatron will reveal that it was bullshit/flattery in s3... would aziraphale much care? that's a little harder for me to riddle out. because here are some things that i have in my head:

there is a clear line drawn for aziraphale - imo - in s1. before the above conversation with the metatron, aziraphale is still largely loyal to heaven and the archangels, regardless of his own private dislike/apathy towards them individually. he is praised by heaven for his work, and actually - for what it's worth - i feel like gabriel's compliment is somewhat genuine (i could write a Lot about gabriel and aziraphale's dynamic but that's another ask). but anyway; at this point in the story, aziraphale still seems to put stock into the archangels' opinion and appraisal of him:

but afterwards, after the metatron drops the nuke that everything aziraphale believed about what heaven should be is a lie (and that they will not just not intervene in, but are actively encouraging, the apocalypse so they can finally have it out with hell), aziraphale breaks from heaven entirely by the time we enter s2. they want nothing to do with him, and he wants nothing to do with them.

as i said before, aziraphale doesn't display leadership qualities - and i daresay that he's never really wanted it. he expressed to the metatron explicitly that he doesn't want to return to heaven, and at no point has he indicated that he's ambitious, or power-hungry, or essentially that he covets the supreme archangel position for himself. so, with that in mind, would he be really upset if the metatron turned around with "sike! you're an awful leader and i was lying to you all along"?

i mean, possibly. because yes, okay, in ep6 metatron is essentially telling aziraphale - "all these qualities that others have told you are heinous and laughable as an angel? yeah i actually want that exact kind of angel running heaven." and maybe yeah, aziraphale would buy into that; take all of the insecurities he has about himself - and if those qualities make him a good angel or not - and suddenly start seeing them as things that are in fact valuable.

but we've seen aziraphale be self-conscious, or take a knock to his self-esteem, and they have almost always been linked to things he genuinely cares about, and tie him to earth and humanity. he loses confidence in 1941 over his magic act. he feels self-conscious about being soft/his love of food. he is knocked back by the notion from shax that crowley only values him as a source of support. all of these, i think, are tied to aziraphale's idea of angelhood, but again - idk if aziraphale doesn't see through what the metatron is flattering him with in ep6. he certainly doesn't look flattered:

all that to say; i don't think aziraphale would be blown to pieces by being told by the metatron that it was all a lie, all flattery to get him back in the fold. in s1, aziraphale has a very clear view that the metatron and god are not the same; the metatron is just a spokesman, aaaaaand the metatron just played his hand in telling aziraphale that they're plotting the second coming. which aziraphale definitely recognises as a Thing. his last look outside the lift would signify that he knows he's walking into the lion's den, and he's not on board, but has no choice but to follow now and play the game.

so personally, i think for him to suddenly regress to begging off the heavenly table for scraps would be to erase quite a bit of his character journey so far. depending on how you view the final fifteen, aziraphale is nonetheless going back to 'make a difference'... but i'd put money on that 'difference' being worlds away from what the metatron had intended.

if anything - given how he's replaced heaven's place in his life with crowley in s2 - i feel like crowley may instead be the source of aziraphale needing to confront himself about a few things. and not in a 'crowley will be an arsehole and rip aziraphale a new one just because he can' way, but a 'there are a lot of things that the both of them have refused to acknowledge about themselves, as well as each other, that have to be reckoned with before they can even begin to repair the rift'.

personally, i think that has the potential to fuck up aziraphale more than anything the metatron could ever do or say - and vice versa, for crowley - but also be significantly more empowering and completing than crowley being the one to pick up the pieces, if that makes sense?💕

[thought-about-it]

I'll start off saying that I don’t really ship Wednesday with anyone in the new show. Even though she went through some character development, I think she still needs to value and experience friendship more before moving on to romance. And even though I didn't think it was romantic, I also didn't hate the kiss between Tyler and Wednesday because it shows that she's really not above it all and still a regular teenager in the end.

That brings me to the point of this post: I actually really like the idea of whatever it was between her and Tyler. (Ramblings and spoilers ahead, though some disclaimer, I've only watched each episode once.)

First, their banter was pretty fun. Even in their first conversation together, they matched each other's sarcasm without offense. I could almost forgive Tyler for thinking that she was sending him signals instead of just being herself because he doesn't know that this is how she normally acts, and that their (one-sided, maybe) playful conversation didn't constitute as flirting for her. (Bantering is a love language, fight me.) It's so clear that he doesn't know what she's actually like when he's fooled by the heartfelt note from Thing and thinks she was only being coy before.

The twist about Tyler wasn't mind-blowing, but it was certainly more tragic than I expected. He's not just a monster, but also a victim that was chained, drugged, and brainwashed by someone older that he trusted. His situation is on the edge of something darker than what the show might be willing to explore, but anyways, despite all that, he seemed to act as a “normal” person. After that revelation, there becomes many different, contradicting explanations for his character and behavior.How much of his romantic interest in Wednesday is an act? I don't think that he's totally psychopathic. He's shown to be hurt by her apathy and bluntness. Like with the aforementioned note,  he smiled softly when he was reading it. It's not like there was anyone around he had to act for, so that smile must have been real. But maybe the smile was actually a smirk, and he thinks he's caught her in his grasp. It's weird that he'd consistently offers help trying to get her out of town when he knows that she's needed for his Master's ritual. I mean, he keeps bringing it up even when she’s run off on him on several occasions.So, I dunno what’s up with him.

Second, did he really enjoy killing? I feel like a lot of people took that jail scene at face value, and believe that he's a cut-and-dry psychopath. Yes, I realize that he said it himself. But no, people don't always say what they mean, especially when they are angry, upset, or trying to impress the person they like. Maybe he thinks he should be the monster she thinks he is. (When he's been chained up and tazed, treated like a monster.)  Maybe he doesn't want to kill but is deluding himself into thinking it's a good, enjoyable thing or else he'll go mad. (Sadly, a common coping mechanism in victims)  Maybe he thinks that she thinks psychopaths are attractive. (Even after... 2 dates, I don't think he fully understands who she is as a person, but he'd like to get to know her better, or wants her to be attracted to him. He's a misguided teenager too, okay?) Or, perhaps, he really is just evil. (Boring, in my humble opinion).

And what about Wednesday? She obviously interested in him, be it teenage hormones or whatever. She didn't turn him down for the dance, even though she made previous plans with Eugene. She went all the way to the coffee shop to kiss him, right? But what does she think of him now? Is he too deranged even for her? Or does she realize how alike they both are, in the way that they are both outcasts among outcasts?  I don't have a great grasp of her character in this iteration, but I know she's a lot more emotional than she pretends to be. (Sidenote: why are Hydes banned from school? It's wrong to punish victims of circumstance for something they cannot control.)

Anyways, this is sort of my inconclusive thoughts on the Wednesday/Tyler pairing. Something about all this could make for a very interesting romance, if explored properly. At the very least, it'd make for a great enemy-to-friend story line. Give me more character development and communication between these two for the next season!   I also hope we could at least get more insight on who Tyler is. Now that his Master is gone, he might be able to be his own person again. Think of the social commentary opportunities to go with his redemption arc! It'll be a sad, missed opportunity if they ignored all that and instead relegate him to a big bad psycho monster that Wednesday needs to defeat once and for all.

[sanasanakun]

I was reading your post about how Gortash is so polarizing in how people respond to him and while I don’t have an answer, I can weigh in on the side of thinking he’s attractive and not understanding some of the complaints people have. I try to see what it is that makes some people go ewwww no way but I don’t see what they do. For example a lot of people will say he looks dirty and I feel like I’m missing something completely. He looks unkempt but his hair looks shiny and clean and there’s no stains on his clothes. There’s scars and age marks and stubble on his skin, but I don’t read that as dirt (maybe I’m wrong)? His teeth aren’t perfectly white but thats the case for anyone who drinks coffee or tea so that doesn’t mean anything about hygiene. It also feels like people mistake his skin for just being dirty instead of not pasty white. Also when I see comments about “this guy must smell bad” and I immediately think of that journalist who made a remark about zendaya smelling like patchouli and weed because it feels like it’s coming from the same mindset and is sometimes word for word literally just that. This isn’t even touching on the fact that he’s got wrinkles and dark under eyes and signs of age and trauma that aren’t cute or superficial. I’m saying that the haters are all racist or ageist but I think there’s some biases at play and no one feels like they need to think about it too deeply because he’s an antagonist.

Yeah, I definitely agree with your takes here. I’m also someone who thinks he’s attractive and never really had a problem with his design. I don’t really care for the hair and think it’s a little goofy, but overall he’s very handsome (and the outfit is drippy af).

I will say that his model actually DOES have dirt on his face. Like those spots are the in game dirt feature (idk if that’s the right word). I’m not sure if that’s to have age spots or show that he’s a little disheveled, but yeah he is actually dirty in game lol but I’m with you in never thinking that he was dirty or smelled bad. But he doesn’t look like an archduke and I think that’s the point of his design; he’s a fraud and a tyrant (aka a bad leader).

And I definitely think a lot of the criticism for his design comes from racism and ageism. And I’ll preface this by saying that I’ve always read Gortash as being inspired by Turkish and Bulgarian people looks-wise. The constant insults of calling him disgusting or dirty make me side eye cause I do think it comes from his darker complexion and “unconventional” features that are more common in Türkiye and the Balkans.

Like I can only speak as a Bulgarian, but people in Western Europe treat us like shit. They call us dirty, untrustworthy, mafioso, ugly, etc. like Western Europeans fucking hate us. In America, it’s not as bad but we still have a negative image (in my experience. I’ve been told I’m poor and from a country that shouldn’t exist before). And I’m very white, so I can’t even imagine what it’s like for those with darker skin tones. So, I think people carry this bias against people that look like Gort and don’t think deeper about it when they say these things (or redesign him). I find it very hurtful tbh because I really loved seeing a character that looked like him. He’s very unique amongst the other character models.

And obvs, ageism is a huge problem that people also won’t confront with themselves. And all this combined with bad media literacy (imo) like they cannot get over the “young and handsome” part for some reason and it’s so annoying.

Anyway, I’m rambling and prob not making a lot of sense cause I’m tired lol but yes! I agree with you. Luckily, it seems like Gort has a pretty sizable fanbase and a lot of people love him! So, it’s not all bad. But I wish people would maybe think a bit longer about some of their opinions on him. Cause he’s a horrible person! But we don’t need to constantly call him dirty or disgusting or whatever. But that’s just where I stand on this whole thing.

[russellsppttemplates]

It is not a fine morning, is it?

The things is, and bear with, because I'm only halfway with my coffee: I understand that there can be signs that prompt the FIA to look at certain cars and not others (although the whole thing seems sketchy to me still), but wouldn't you have to do this regularly anyway? With this whole thing, a lot of people have written opinion articles (which I find weird because if they have rules and they state something, you can't bend them or interpret them to your opinion, or at least it shouldn't be a thing?, like, I don't think that's how that works, because if so, then we would all have opinions on rules and the FIA regulations allowed anything under the sun) where they state that there have been checks in previous races and it has been fine, even though, admittedly, this was a time they checked more cars.

I really don't want to join the whole discourse where the FIA targets certain teams or certain drivers just because, but, at this point, it's looking like it a little

Also, is it also safe to assume that Carlos' and George's cars had the same issue? Because of team setups vs driver setups? This opens another can of worms, too, so I feel like there's a lot to debunk here

Still, I hope you have a good week 🤍✨️

[caramel-cream50]

Good omens Season 2 spoilers! Discussion of the coffee theory!

Here’s my opinion on the coffee theory

Which If you don’t know It is the theory that the metatron put something in Aziraphale’s coffee that sorta altered his view or made him decide to become supreme archangel

So let’s start with things I think support this theory:

- I find it odd the metatron would get Aziraphale a coffee in general?? Especially one so specific?

- Why would heaven want Aziraphale? A traitor? Like why the very sudden change of heart?

- the metatron seemed overly confident Aziraphale would go with him?? Which is surprising to me

- Some people have pointed out the music and just off vibe of the scene with azi and the metatron

- one of the biggest ones for me is HE DOESNT REALLY QUESTION THE SECOND COMING? He asks if he can know more but leaves it alone after that. Which Aziraphale knows heaven, he knows all about Armageddon and these huge events heaven has done and knows there bad news. Not to mention at the end of season 1 Crowley did suggest heaven and hell might go up against humanity

- Aziraphale does seem very persistent on the whole matter? Which isn’t super odd but I find it a little weird he didn’t even like..really think about what Crowley was saying? He didn’t really listen he just kept saying what he wanted

- At the very end of the credits Aziraphale’s smiles and it’s not like- a normal smile or even a fake smile we’ve seen him do before it’s sort if eerie and I think rubbed a lot of fans the wrong way.

- This kinda goes along with the smile but Aziraphale’s whole demeanor as he leaves is off and strange. His body language says a lot.

My thoughts against it:

- the metatron could’ve just gotten Aziraphale a coffee because he knows Aziraphale likes earthly pleasures (like food and drinks)

- I feel like a lot of people are leaning into the coffee theory as a way to almost excuse Aziraphale’s actions? Like they don’t want to believe Aziraphale would do what he did to Crowley but I honestly think he would

- We know Aziraphale has a long complicated relationship with heaven, but he seems to almost always seek heaven’s approval? He wants to be a “good” angel

- I forgot where I saw this but I saw someone say that Aziraphale isn’t going back to heaven with the intent to join it, he’s going back with the intent to fix it and make a difference

- If we put ourselves in Aziraphale’s shoes he really thinks that if he goes back to heaven that he can make a difference in the world and stop heavens corruption, while he thinks Crowley would rather run off together (this doesn’t mean I think Aziraphale is in the right, I just can see what his thought process is)

- Aziraphale hates change. That’s a big part of who he is as a character, even though he was glad to stop Armageddon it was a big change for him not working with heaven so it almost makes sense why when he got a “great” opportunity like that he’d come running back because it’s familiar.

- Aziraphale’s weird smile at the end of the credits could have just been a sad attempt at him trying to appear happy after his heart was just broken

+ some people think this ties into Gabriel’s character and how maybe he was being controlled by the metatron, and that Beelzebub somehow broke him out of it? which I personally don’t see at all, I think Gabriel was just being himself which turned out to be a jerk, and being with Beelzebub almost brought out the best in him

Anyways I don’t know if anyone is gonna read this whole thing but there’s so much more to cover as well! This was kinda just me rambling, Thanks for reading!

[foxtwix]

long post but if you want you can read

idk if anybody else has experienced this but i have a lot of opinions and preferences that seem like they would lead to be being pretentious and snarky but i'm not, such as:

I hate starbucks and highly encourage buying from local roasters and coffee shops. but not because i don't like sugary coffee or PSLs, it's because starbucks supports genocide, does not ethically source their coffee, price-gouges small communities, and their sizing system is ass.

i am an enthusiastic enjoyer of LOTR and the Hobbit, but i'm not an annoying fan with overzealous tendencies and exclusionary and gatekeepy behavior, i'm just a visual thinker, tolkien's writing makes sense with my brain, i enjoy deep and complex lore, and the names are really fun.

i don't like mainstream video games, but not because "i want to be different so bad", it's because there's more creative and unique games to be found from independent creators, and to the same point as starbucks, independent games are made with more passion because people aren't being overworked with indie studios, because there's less pressure and less high level corporate culture, often leading to a better and more creative product.

finally, i'm not a fan of celebrity culture. not because i'm a weird prick who doesn't like pop culture, it's more that the ideas surrounding celebrities often lead to corruption of celebrities who have too much money and fame, and common people not seeing celebrities as humans and regular people, and therefore hold them to an unreasonably high standard, constantly stalking them, and as a result see them more as characters on a show instead of normal people.

anyways thanks for reading my weird rant and remember cringe culture is just a ploy to get you to conform with others' standards and there's no such thing as "basic". just enjoy what you enjoy.

[averbaldumpingground]

On the stoop, she’s still wearing her prom dress. It’s after eight and it’s dark. Through the window in the living room, she can see her brother crouched over his homework, doing his best not to watch her get soaked in the rain. Her mother, she knows, is just inside in the hallway. But Jake told her he’d be there to take her. Not that she could go like this now, not with her mascara running. She can’t see any headlights on the road even standing up on her tiptoes in the driveway. Jake called and swore that he’d be there. She really wanted to go.

[mariamariquinha]

Versos de Placer (Colonel Carrillo x f!reader) - Six

Summary: He just needed the best opportunity. You just needed to drink.

Word count: 4.8k (oh yeah, sorry not sorry)

Warnings: Bad words, mention of injuries, p in v sex, protected sex, smut, allusions of past relationships, dirk talk, flirting, alcohol consumption, a brief mention of something that happened in Narcos (first season, the gif says it all), oral sex and... uuh... Yeah, they did it. Woo-hoo. Lemme know if I missed something!

Author’s Note: Do I have words to explain why took me so long to write? No. Sorry. It will happen again. ANYWAY, I did it with love and affection, sincerely my favorite chapter so far because I had more time to think it was bad so I did it again and again and again... And now I’m fully satisfied with the results. 

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Join my taglist! Don’t forget to reblog, comment and like! As always, I would love to know what you’re all thinking! ❤

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In a way, Carrillo couldn’t quite remember the last time he committed himself to court a woman. People were different, that’s for sure, and he felt unsure about how to approach you… romantically. He just had his opinions about how to go from A to B, being A the conquer and B the consummation; call it corny, but even if he wasn’t the man with the same convictions from before, the idea of sleeping with a woman doesn’t came so naturally as if was with Javier, for example.

Maybe it was the divorce. His ex-wife left and this type of stimulation became a background, something to think about later. But fuck, the later came, configured in the form of an impatiently determined woman far more beautiful than he could have predicted. And it could pass easily, your personality really did good to any men to keep their distance, but it became the opposite for that same reason. At least for him, that kiss was the right thing to do.

So when the days passed by and he needed to resist the urge to freely fall on his wishes to touch you, he got a little jealous. You’re still healing, of course, and your friendship with Murphy and Peña wasn’t something he would put a finger on, especially if it meant they’re keeping an eye on you, but then he saw things. Interactions.

If it wasn’t Steve, it was Javier touching your body to help you out. Stairs, terrain elevations, even to reach things on higher shelves. He would watch their fingers holding your back, your shoulder, your arm, and you would brush them off - on bad days, when the pain showed itself to be too much, the help was welcome, bringing a thankful smile on your face. A smile he wanted you to give him, but the impossibility of that secret, of that… arrangement you both had, made everything so complicated.

What comforted you came in snippets of unique things you did daily, as if you felt the need to show your interest in what he said he was going to offer you. Your body leaning slightly beside him during meetings, with the excuse to show a detail on a map he knew with the palm of his hand - which gave him the opportunity to feel the press of your boobs; a small smile hidden behind a cup of coffee when he muttered some expletive in Spanish, just to let him know you were watching him.

“You’re proving yourself to be a really resilient man, Colonel.” You said once, hands behind your back while you both waited for the elevator that was recently fixed by the influence of someone.

“Am I?” He asked with a frown, watching a smirk playing on your lips.

“Mm-hm. This seems to help you a lot.”

“Perhaps. I prefer to reserve my impatience in other aspects of my life.”

“Oh, I know. I even like the position you put me in on this… spectrum.” You turned to him just a touch. “You can take it up to a point, can't you? Your eyes don’t deny your intentions.”

And he smiled at it, looking around to be sure no one was watching before giving a step closer to look clearly in your defiant expression.

“So you'll be happy to know that this isn't the only position I've thought of putting you in.”

God, what a sight you made when your face fell just a touch, revealing that different side of your personality that got you shy, even for a few seconds, avoiding his eyes and pursing your lips. He liked to see that. The idea of being the one breaking down that almost impenetrable barrier of the agent who could be huffing and saying that his ideas were old fashioned, of being able to see more than rage and natural grandeur.

“She’s doing fine.” Steve grabbed his attention, probably not noticing that his superior was staring at you on the other side of the field, all bossy with hands on your hips and sunglasses on your face. “It's as if her body is recovering from sheer stubbornness.”

“I wouldn’t doubt.”

It wasn’t like Carrillo and Murphy talked that much. Usually it would have Javier making the transition, always being a natural presence; it felt weird to have a mention of you between them, but he knew Steve had this care for you because it was his way, and he would be there to prevent any clash between him and you in the past and in the future.

“Yeah, but she’s a competent agent. She might not seem so easy but... Well, that's what you can expect with the weight of her family's reputation.”

This became a part of you he learned how to forget and when Steve mentioned the fact, he frowned. Not for offense, of course, nor any sort of irritation against the memory of your father, but his doubts about your ethics changed in a way he couldn’t imagine happening with that said father. He could be different for his age, maybe he educated you to be better. That weight Steve said, that… responsibility of not doing the same mistakes your father did naturally fell on you every single day, and Carrillo felt guilty for being one of the people to give you this problem.

If someone finds out it will fall more on me than on you, it reverberated in his head at that moment.

“Yes, it makes sense.”

Later that day, when he had his opportunity to spot you alone on your way to the archive’s room, he wanted to ask. If you’re still okay with that arrangement, if he didn’t cross a line, if it was supposed to stop before the first night, because you both knew there was no going back after that.

Carrillo felt naturally connected to the person he'd just met, as if he'd felt a need to offer comfort and security because he cared. That was his job and it extended to you, albeit with more affection and a flame that grew more intense with each kiss you rested on him.

Of course he doesn’t follow you. In fact, he stayed at a distance.

A feeling of fear ran through his mind for the first time in a long time - suddenly, he wasn't on solid ground.

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

You can say no, Javier had said with a neutral expression, but you remembered not paying a lot of attention to it because Carrillo was doing his best to pretend he wasn’t listening to the conversation behind your partner.

“It’s fine,” You answered with a shrug. “I’m officially healed and freed from my pills. Mind if I come at… 8?”

Not that it was a common attitude on your part, because it wasn't, but after so much uncertainty, work and stress, you wouldn't refuse to accompany your partners on a quiet night. Low-cut shirts and denim skirts were part of another context in your life - still, you gave yourself the benefit of looking appraisingly that night.

You also tried not to think about the possibility of Carrillo being there. Javier didn’t mention an invitation to him, which was okay, because you wouldn’t simply make a face or show disappointment at the lack of the presence of a man everyone thought you didn’t have the best opinions. Still, you made your way to the bar with more confidence and awareness of the scenario.

The place was neat, calm and had this low light to create a comfortable ambientation for the patrons. You could see Javi, then Steve, sitting comfortably in a table far away from the public commotion, so you made a beeline to them nonchalantly.

“Am I late or early?” You asked with a smile, gaining a stare from both men.

“That depends on how ready you were to leave us with our jaws dropped.” Peña teased.

“I didn't have many options for clothes to wear here, so between that and what I wear to work... I'll take your comment as a compliment.” There was a small smile on Steve’ face at your subtle deviation from whatever Javi had tried to insinuate. “Why is no one drinking yet?”

“I did the honors of paying for the first round.”

From that angle, standing in front of the table, you had the impression that Carrillo was super close to you. It should be the excitement from the realization, maybe. And when you saw him there, holding four beers in his hands, you tried not to smile a lot.

“It's a first-time compensation,” Javier broke the eye contact between you two with the comment. “He's not as baggy as he looks.”

Whatever provocation was that, you didn’t answer, just as Carrillo, who discreetly checked you out before putting the beers on the table and taking his seat in the free boot, leaving you to sit beside him. Jesus Christ, he was smelling so good and the place was small enough to make your legs touch. You wondered if the most intelligent thing to do was simply interrupt the contact, but in a movement he pressed his clothed leg more firmly on yours, so you let it as it was.

As the night went on, the conversation became more and more exclusive to what Javier and Steve wanted to talk, leaving a silent Carrillo at the mercy of your willingness to communicate with him. You didn’t know if he would mind your lack of attention - the men in front of you could be very perceptive, and if he did, nothing came out of his mouth for a very long time.

“Will you want one more?” You gestured to the empty bottles, already standing up to prevent any chivalry on their part.

Not that you were expecting Carrillo to take your cue for a private conversation, because it would make a lot of sense if he just stayed there to maintain the image. Maybe tonight wouldn't mean anything after all, even if a part of you persisted in the idea that he wouldn't show up there for no reason, that his intentions would see the light eventually.

“For all intents and purposes, this is a conversation to discuss our differences.” He said beside you after a few minutes of waiting, and you smiled at his profile.

“You couldn't lie to them like that, could you?”

“It's a partial truth. We are talking.”

“But the seal of peace happened a while ago.”

“Partially.” His answer left you confused, but he just leaned on the counter and turned to you with a smirk. “I still remember our agreement.”

“So should I go easy on the drinking?”

“I haven't decided on that yet. Maybe I can wait for the next opportunity to see your relationship with alcohol.” The way he checked you out, stopping just a touch in your cleavage, made your body naturally shiver. “Is this what it means to talk about off-work things with your partners?”

“My relationship with alcohol is just fine, Colonel, nothing to worry about and yes, this is what I meant, I even proved your theory that it's not hard to find interesting people to talk to being so… easy on the eyes.”

There was a different glint on his eyes at the teasing, a different side of him you usually saw on those significant and rare moments of intimacy you both shared, when the eagerness needed to be controlled by the rational part of you. It was a chance, you thought, to fulfill your needs and fulfill the silent promise that was hidden in the discrete gropes he gave you.

“Leave them. Come home with me.” Carrillo got closer just a touch, his fingers brushing your arm while his eyes stayed fixed on yours.

“It's not a very convincing exit. We theoretically don't like each other, I don't think a minute's conversation would be enough for that.”

He smiled.

“Did you come driving?”

“No. Taxi.”

“I'll give you ten minutes.”

“Fifteen.” You gave a small nod at the bartender before grabbing the beers. “It will take five minutes to describe how unwell I feel, three minutes to pretend I called a cab, and seven minutes to refuse to accept a ride from one of them.”

“Seven? Are they that insistent?”

“They've got alcohol in their system, Carrillo. Someday I'll tell you about how Javier talks when he drinks.”

Maybe it's been a while since you've flirted like that, but your efforts to make your hips sway on your way back to the table should have an effect - you could feel his gaze burning your skin.

When you sat and they asked if you had scared the shit out of Carrillo to make him leave, the smile you gave was enough to let them with their own interpretations of what might have happened. Well, in theory, that meant Javier would get his chance to talk more about what he thought of the situation, with silly jokes about how tough you were on the Colonel and enjoying every supposed ten minute calculation, skipping important stages of the planning.

At least you didn’t need to say much about your headache or whatever. You opened your mouth to mention your discomfort, babbled about getting a cab, and the insistence ended up stopping quickly because the two would continue drinking for a while longer, after all, it wasn't always that an opportunity like that arose.

The night breeze made you hiss, so you stood for a few seconds embracing yourself to keep some warm. Before you could walk to find Carrillo (because it wasn’t like you both really planned on it), he appeared with an arm around your hips, pulling you in the direction of the parking lot.

“Fuck, warn a girl!”

“Good to know you're still on alert.” He planted a kiss on your forehead before leaving you just enough to open his car door for you. “Shall we?”

That memory of the night the two of you shared your first kiss felt very vivid to you at that moment. You even silently wondered, at least as he drove around town with both hands on the wheel and equally silent, if he thought the same thing, or if the two of you hadn't expected to face the situation so simply. Back then, there was a tense atmosphere in the air. Expectations boiled down to getting home okay, your mind filled with fear and worry about what had happened, and you two weren't okay.

There, in the silence and comfort of his car, you let yourself be carried away by more promiscuous thoughts, which was perhaps a shared feeling as his fingers clenched impatiently on the steering wheel. This was further proof that he was trying to be diligent, even polite, in not letting his true emotions be so abruptly revealed.

The house was… considerable. Too much for a single man, but effective for a couple, which probably was the intention of that big porch and the expansive garden. You didn’t want to ask if that small flower bed (visible through car headlights) was his ex wife's idea, because that didn't seem like the kind of thing he would have time to devote himself to. Out of consideration, you kept quiet. It would be stupid to open your mouth to talk about it.

What you also noticed, but didn't comment on, was how Carrillo seemed a little uncertain about how to act, so it all felt right, albeit a little too serious for the context of that encounter. He put a hand on your lower back while you both climbed the small steps of the front porch and made your way to the door, but stayed quiet when he turned on the light of the living room.

The place reflected a lot of what he was for real - neat, organized, with not even a feminine touch but well-maintained. There was no dirt or clutter, which could easily be found in a single man's home, and the coffee table looked so clean that you went back to preventing any related questions.

“What?”

“Mm?”

“You seem to be blowing a hole in your mind with so much thinking. What is it?” He locked the door behind himself, looking at you standing in the middle of the room with curious eyes.

You smiled, turning to him just a touch and shrugging.

“It's the first time I'm visiting your house, maybe I'm a little excited.”

“There won't be much to see, at least not today.” He took careful steps in your direction, head low to watch his own fingers playing with the strap of your purse. You observed him carefully. “Does my bedroom look like a good start?”

“We’ll see. Lead the way.”

Carrillo doesn’t try to kiss you or anything while grabbing your hand, but maybe he knew that this lack of contact was making you more and more on edge. He even made you accompany him to the stairs, then to the room, with careful steps, as if counting them.

The bedroom was large too, but the furniture was limited to his needs. There was a wardrobe, a desk, a large double bed, and a window that was closed but would probably make a good refreshment if it was open. And that might have sounded strange and rash, but it all felt very intimate and domestic between the two of you. He got rid of the gun that lived in his belt and you put the bag on the desk, creating more comfort in that discreet light from the lamp.

When you turned to him, he also got rid of his reservations and stayed at the edge of the bed staring at your form with hungry eyes. Your whole body tingled with the attention - he'd never had the freedom to look at you like this, so openly, so…truly about the attraction he felt for you, which was reciprocal. You decided to walk slowly towards him, just so you could look at the wealth of detail offered by the same lamp that discreetly illuminated the room, but also bathed his face in a way that made him even more handsome.

“I've imagined this moment for a while, but I didn't think you'd look like this.” He murmured, catching your hand for a second time to hold your fingers.

“Like how?”

“Dressed.” You both giggled at this for a moment.

“It's never too late to solve this problem, Horacio.” Carefully, you raised that same hand to your cleavage, over the first button of that shirt that already looked like a nuisance. You held it there, waiting, expecting for him to move.

He wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer, causing a gasp to come out of your mouth as he used his proximity to squeeze your left breast firmly.

“Call me that again, bonita… Por favor.”

“... Horacio.”

Even with the eagerness, the first kiss was tentative, lips to lips, and what a relief it was to be able to feel it again. You didn’t even hesitate to pull embrace him by the neck, holding his neck and shoulders to deepen the kiss, which he obliged right away. Carrillo kept massaging your breast, feeling your nipple harden under the thin fabric; when you opened your mouth to whimper at the light pinch he gave on it, his tongue tangled with yours, making you press your fingers on his nape.

You understood why he was repriming himself at that moment; he started to give hard kisses on your neck, leaving bites and sucks that could make you complain but you didn’t. It felt too good - God, so fucking good.

Then there was the sound of a fabric being torn up from your body. Carrillo pulled the shirt by the collar, opening it abruptly with just one hand and not daring to stop his attack on your neck. With your boobs in full display, he started to give them some attention with languid kisses, probably leaving some marks along the way. You took off what was left of your shirt, using his position to pull his shirt from his belt, and it didn't take long for him to pull away just a little to get it off.

Feeling his torso under his clothes was one thing; seeing it there, in front of you, was quite another and suddenly you were in a trance. He didn't have gym muscles, nor a strictly defined body, but that shape, that… version was a vision. The belly, the pecs, the pectoral, you wanted to touch everything all at once. And you did, in a way, tracing the muscles to catch every detail, trying to keep all of it in your memory - to have a good thing to remind you of that mess.

The rest of the clothes were discarded easily, leaving you both just in your underwear to feel the skin on skin contact. He held your body to turn you both and lay on the bed, with him on top of you uttering kisses all over your torso.

“Tengo tantas ganas de saborearte, mi amor.” I want to taste you so much, my love.

Carrillo brushed his lips just above your belly button. The dedication he had on worshiping your body, using his hands to touch the skin of your thighs and your sides, made you melt almost instantly. You sighed when he bitted the fabric of your panties, pulling and then running the tongue over it. The grunt he left out was animalistic, as if smelling the best scent in the world and before you could feel embarrassed by it, he ripped the fabric off and put his mouth exactly where you needed him to.

In other circumstances and probably with another guy, you would have pretended to moan, but Carrillo wouldn’t have the chance to see you fake. It came loudly out of your mouth, the feeling of his mouth simply devouring your pussy and making you confused about opening your legs more or just tightening them around his head.

“So wet, baby… Think I can make you cum like this?” And without a warning, he easily penetrated two fingers inside of you - the motherfucker laughed when you threw your head back in pleasure. “That’s it, dulce. You’re gripping me so good. Gimme a taste.”

This vocal version of him, the one making you a whimpering mess, still carried a demanding tone, and with the orgasm hitting you like a bus, you just knew that you would remember it everytime.

“You okay?” He asked with a concerned tone, gently pulling your arm that covered your eyes to kiss each of your fingers while looking at you and… Damn, this would be something to remember.

“The fuck? I’m more than okay, Horacio. Just… It has been a long time.”

“We can go slow if you…”

“No! No, no, baby, don’t do that,” The reassuring smile you gave was enough for him to retribute, even if not breaking the mood. Carrillo used the grip he had on your hand to lead it through your bodies until you could feel his erection straining his boxers.

“Feel that?” He licked your lips sensually, smirking at the whimper you left with the feel of his bulge. “Mira. Es lo que me has hecho, mujer. Todos los días. Nunca he sido tan duro para nadie.”  Look. It's what you've done to me, woman. Everyday. I've never been this hard for anyone.

You rubbed him slowly through his underwear, every inch of his cock making you shiver in expectation of how it would feel inside of you. The subtle moan he let out after you took his member in your hand made your head spin in desire.

“Fuck, hang on.” He whispered in a rush, leaving you in time to take the rest of his boxers off and grab a condom from the bedside table. You watched in awe the way his muscles flexed while he put the condom on, touching yourself at the sight.

Carrillo repositioned himself between your legs, kneeling and towering over your body with the eyes of a predator. He brushed the tip of his cock in your clit, grunting at the sensation, then finally entered with a long thrust of his hip. It felt more than good, seeing his eyes closed and face contorted in pleasure by the action alone, gripping at your knees to keep them wide open.

Bracing himself with one arm beside your head, he put a firm hand on your thigh to put the leg around his hip, giving attention to the sight of his dick entering your pussy before turning his head at you. Kiss me, he pleaded with his eyes, which you obliged in time. The kiss was long and sensual like his thrusts, making you both stop just to pant or moan against each other's mouth.

Things started to escalate the moment you dug your nails into the side of his torso and pressed down, making each thrust impossibly deeper. It would probably give him marks - no one gave a single damn.

“Open,” He was already pulling on your bottom lip when you obeyed and after pumping two fingers on your mouth, making you taste yourself on them, he teased your clit.

With the second orgasm starting the build on you, Carrillo accelerated and pushed harder, making the bed creak. Your throat was dry enough to not let you scream when you came, but you probably bruised his nape with the force of your nails. The moment was so disconcerting that you only noticed that he also had come when his cock softened inside of you.

What a time, you wanted to say, staring at the ceiling and feeling the weight of his body over yours. What a scene, you thought then, both of you naked, sweating and at cloud 9 in a post-sex that defitenely raised your standards on… Fuck, everything. It finally happened, you could breathe relieved, pecking the side of his head with a smile.

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

“Are you sure it doesn’t hurt anymore?” His voice was groggy, almost hummed behind the cigarette smoke he had just lit. You knew what he was talking about from the way his fingers danced across the bruise on your ribs.

“Not much.” You adjusted yourself in the bed, leaning your head more comfortably on his shoulder and taking his arm to circle your shoulder.

“That's not a very good answer.”

“You didn't make me uncomfortable, if that's what you mean, Carrillo.”

He didn’t answer, so you stayed quiet, playing with his fingers and looking at the opened window that made the curtains flow lightly. It was a calm, almost peaceful moment, in which all the noises and problems of that city were outside. Your mind wasn't preoccupied with the next plan, nor with having to face a huge guy who would try to kill you; it was you and your calm head after an amazing night, accompanied by his warm embrace.

For a moment, you hoped he felt that way too.

“I prefer Horacio.” His voice startled you enough to turn at him, catching the man already staring at you. “Sounds better in your voice.”

“Because I call you ‘Carrillo’ when I’m mad?” You took the cigarette from his fingers with a smirk.

“You’re always mad at me.”

“Arguable.”

“How so?”

“Well…” The smoke left your lungs. “Sometimes I’m annoyed.”

“But when you’re annoyed you stay quiet, so it doesn’t count.”

“Looks like you’re paying a lot of attention to me, Colonel.” You gave the cigarette back to him after another puff, this time moving to straddle his legs.

“I am.” His eyes wandered your face and your naked chest, one hand touching your thigh. “And the title is for teasing, I suppose.”

“You want me to use it in other circumstances?”

“... No. Save my first name for when I can see you naked.”

“Noted. Colonel.”

He smiled at your raised eyebrows, already abandoning the cigarette on the ashtray and pulling you close for a kiss. The mood for sensual and slow kisses didn’t die, you noticed, and he entwined his fingers in your hair so he could have more control. You let him, of course.

“How are you going to explain these new bruises?” His hand held your throat superficially and even if he denied later, you could see a mischievous look on his face.

“The accused is still a man, the difference is that this time I let him.”

“Funny.” You tried not to read too much at the way he frowned, deciding to leave kisses on his jaw and neck.

“I’m just kidding, you know.”

“Yeah, but still.” Carrillo held your head so he could look at his serious and stern expression. “Be careful.”

“... Okay.” You huffed.

“Okay?”

“Okay, Colonel Horacio Carrillo.”

“What was that? Mad and annoyed?” He teased.

“Maybe. We still have to talk about the clothes you ripped, I didn't bring many here and…”

He interrupted you again with a kiss - this time, you didn’t question his intentions.

[wornoutmouse]

Fun fact: demon slayer starts in 1912 and ends in 1927(or at least that's when the Tashio era ends). Using that math Tanjiro (as long as he kept his health good) would very well be alive today at the ripe age of like 78 if my math is correct since he started as 13 in the series. (My math probably wrong asf)

Power imbalance, power bottom reader, knife play,  blood but not blood play...

He hated you.

Your very being irked him more than anything he'd ever experienced in all his centuries of living. You were clumsy, boisterous, and played that arrogant music all throughout your home while walking around half naked. Well in Muzan's opinion you were half naked, he couldn't even begin to describe his disbelief at the trend of exposing skin. 

It didn't help that you had that insignificant filth running through your veins. At first he was unsure, after all this was a completely different country than Japan, not to mention your darker skin and coiled hair. But no, he could smell and recognise the Kamado blood running through your veins just as strongly as it had run through all your ancestors. 

Completely undiluted. 

At the very beginning when you first moved in, you  came to his home. Knocking aggressively on his front door already getting off to the wrong start. When he opened it, you slipped past him and walked into his living room barely even saying hello as you put poorly decorated sugar cookies on his obsidian coffee table. "This is a nice place you got here Mj." 

Muzan's eyes twitched, that joke had long since gotten old since he moved to America. 

Now that you were closer he could definitely smell, the century old stench of rivaling bloodlust simmered just below your onyx skin. At any moment he expected you to attack him in some way or form. "Anyways I'm here to say hello neighbor, my name is Y/n and I'm your new best friend!"

Your happy attitude also agitated him to no end. Even though the knowledge of demons had dwindled down to only a few select families, even basic humans were wary of him as their baser instincts made them aware of his dangerous origins. This fact had long since forced Muzan to only prey on the elderly to survive. You had stayed a bit longer babbling about some nonsense that Muzan never acknowledged as he watched you from a good distance.

"You know you really got to add more to your wardrobe than 1963 suits." You walked from the back of his home, an area that he didn't even notice you wandered to. Finally getting bored, you open his door bidding your farewells. 

Just before leaving you stop and with a cheeky grin say, "If you ever need anything just come on over. We Kamado's are known for our kindness." 

Since then he'd been on edge around you. The point of relocating was for him to keep a low profile but now it seems he'd have to come face to face with an old nemesis reborn. 

Muzan snapped out of his thoughts with a flinch as he pierced his hand with his nail. He watches the dark blood well up from the wound and drip down his wrist. In the end this world had long since lost its hostility dwindling the average human incapable of basic combat. Giving you were no doubt a great descendant, Muzan failed to see you as a true threat.  

But one can never be too sure

🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢🥢

You heard a knock on your door, soft and hesitant. "I don't think I'm expecting company." You checked your watch and peered out of a nearby window. It was at least 8 at night, you were braless wearing sweats with a red T-Shirt and on your way to bed.  In the back of your mind you visualize your two grand-uncles Inosuke and Zenitsu coming over to make you spectate their fights. For two old dudes they still had enough strength in them to do hip breaking nonsense.

You open the door shocked to see your next door neighbor standing before you. For once he wasn't wearing a suit that cost more than your house. His attire was still expensively dressed but in a more casual sense, that being a black dress shirt and slacks. His sleeves were rolled up displaying his pale skin. "Can I come in?" A dazzling smile you had never seen before practically blinds you as he walks past you into your home.

When Muzan walks in his eyes immediately dart to the clear as day Nichirin Blade sword displayed recklessly on your living room wall above your couch. "You like it?" A hand on his shoulder makes him jump, "Got it from my grandpa, he says it's really special but I feel like he's exaggerating. You know how old people are." Muzan shakes out of his stupor. "I don't quite understand what you mean by that, however I do know that it's much more wise to listen to your elders than ignoring…..It could save your life."

Muzan replicates you and puts a hand on your shoulder gently squeezing. This was it, he'd go in for the kill and it would be over, the amount of blood he'd pump into you would be enough to watch you meet a satisfying end of combustion completely untraceable if the police were to get involved. How he wishes he'd be there when your poor grandfather walks along your remains splattered on every surface in your living room. Unable to do a thing as he's finally in his last stretch of life. 

The beauty.

Muzan's finger only twitches in the slightest before pain sparks from his own neck. "The thought of you coming into my own home unprovoked and at night no less, was the most obvious sign one could ask more." You had his hand gripped so tight your veins popped while your other hand held a small pocket knife that burned  brighter than any Nichirin sword he'd ever encountered. He didn't understand, he was quick enough to kill even the best of the ancient Hiroshima. So how did a little foreign girl like you get the upper hand?

It was embarrassing and almost laughable if any of his pillars were alive to tell the tale.

You press the blade harder before bringing your other hand to caress Muzan's cheek,  "Did you think I'd be just an ignorant descendant of an infamous hero?" You clicked your teeth disappointingly. "How naive, you've really become lazy after all these millennia huh?" You walk forward, pushing Muzan back with seductive strength. He allows you to push him into your couch,  I say allow because at any time he could have stopped you.  

Muzan is most definitely not holding me at gunpoint right now. 

The knife never wavers even as you climb into Muzan's lap, pressing it even closer against his jugular. "You do know getting beheaded will not kill me, and I doubt this petty little kitchen knife will get the job done in the first place." Your lips draw into a smirk and you press the knife closer as you trail it down his chest, "That may be true but it's gonna take one hell of a time for you to grow back." Your hand jerks down, popping his shirt buttons open.

Muzan watches with interest, your eyes light up as more skin becomes exposed. The tones of your dark skin contrast strikingly as you caress his pectoral with the tips of your fingers. "For a 1,000 year old grandpa you look decent." Still threatening his life with your blade, you kiss him. It's deep and carnal. Your lustful desires being made known as you grind in his lap. The flesh of your ass snuggly hotdogs the forming outline of his cock. "I've always wanted to be with a demon. You've had to of become a real freak after living this long!"

When you pull away Muzan's thin lips are pink and a bit swollen. He is out of breath despite needing none, "You have a lot of nerve for a mere human." With your free hand you loosen the belt of his slacks, only standing to pull them off, pleased when Muzan voluntarily raises his hips to aid you. 

Don't get him wrong, he was still planning on killing you and ending your wretched bloodline once and for all, he just needed his mind to clear itself. Your scent, your confidence, strung him along like a puppet. His hands grip onto your ass cheeks like a lifeline. Molding them between his fingers, even giving them a shake through your sweats. His nails elongate and puncture the thick fabric as if it was nothing more than a spider web. 

Your sweats are tugged off completely leaving your lower half nude. Muzan moves his hands to hold your ass again but your blade politely makes itself known. You are out of breath and clearly flustered. "Watch yourself, demon, I'm the one calling the shots, don't forget that." Muzan bites his tongue with sharp glare. He raises his hands in surrender, "Of course." 

Muzan can feel your wetness against his leg and it's driving him insane. "Hey…" red eyes refocus on yours, "You ain't got any diseases do you? And you can't get me pregnant right?" Muzan smirks hands enclosing around your ass despite your protest. "I can, however it will cost a lot more than doing it once." The odds didn't seem in your favor but you were in no position to stand down and grab a condom and Muzan knew it.

You curve the blade towards his chin, "If you are lying and give me some ancient unknown disease or I find out you have superman sperm, I will kill you." Muzan links his lips, "Wasn't that the plan from the beginning or have you had a moment of level headedness?" Your wrist is quick and precise, cutting a thin slash along his jawline., not enough to scar and it barely even bled, but the threat was clear.

You grab Muzan's dick and use your thumb to attack the underside with fast strokes. Said man doesn't react outwardly, the only sign being his eyelids lowering by a fraction. "Were you always this well endowed or did you adjust this part too?" Muzan was not amused by your insinuation. Deciding to once again display the true power imbalance this situation had, he loops his arms underneath your large thighs and lifts you just enough to thrust his cock against your hole. 

From there he let's go, making you plop down on his length, making you yelp and allowing him to lean back with a relaxed sigh. You were so warm and tight. Now even though I explained what had happened with great detail,  keep in mind that in reality it all happened within a fraction of a second. 

Your large and in charge persona was cracking.  You gripped Muzan's sides tightly as your pussy spasmed around his girth. "F-Fuck it's too….." you trail off not wanting to give Muzan the credit he was truly due. 

It takes a few moments for you to get your bearings all the while Muzan and his dangerous jaw swayed in the crevice of your neck. A viper playing with its prey. The blade is back against his neck once again making his cock twitch. If he were human this would be a dangerous feat.  Your grip never slacked nor lessened against his neck, slicing into a growing wound that dropped dark blood down his chest and to his abdomen. 

His dick stretched your pussy and made it weap on each downstroke. Muzan's hands grip onto the cheeks of your ass with gritted teeth.  Your insides gripped him ever so slightly.  Sucking him back in as if he belonged there.  He felt used and it felt good.  His black ringlets stuck to his face from sweat and his red eyes grew in intensity. 

He couldn't see much of your body, hell he could barely even touch. In the back of his mind humorous thoughts such as how he knew Tanjiro would lose his sanity if he knew his granddaughter was being bedded by the man he despised. But the more you bounced, the more you squeezed, the deeper you cut into his neck proved that you were truly the one in charge. 

"Oh God you're so deep!" Your deep almond eyes shut themselves with pleasure. Muzan could feel your legs shaking with exertion at the same rhythm your pussy twitched. His balls felt tight after having no action in over a dozen years. "F-Faster." He has no care for your blade, only wanting to cum and feel the sweet ecstasy he knew your creamed pussy would provide. "Come on human, go faster." Muzan locks lips with you, gaze hardened and intent on proving some sort of point.

Tossing the knife you wrap your arms around his neck pulling his head closer. Red eyes target brown ones as his hands take a stronger grip on your ass. He uses his strength to bounce you. The sound of his balls slapping against the curve of your ass is just as disgusting as it is sexy. Your nipples rub against his through your tank-top making you both moan. The feeling blood stains your shirt making you shiver from the cool wetness

The couch you rest on bangs against the wall behind you the faster you both go. Muzan's feet are planted firmly in the ground, his fangs further elongated. He looks feral and it is in this moment where you get a glimpse of the horror many people felt when he took their lives. "Focus little Kamado, you wouldn't want to disappoint me now would you?" 

Muzan's hips meet yours, spreading the tempo. Your juices coat his lap before finally you tense up completely into a cramp inducing stance as Muzan impaled you on his cock one last time. "Ahh.." Muzan empties himself within you with a relieved sigh. 

Maybe the Kamado bloodline could go on.

[violettelueur]

— FUSHIGURO MEGUMI + GOJO SATORU || S/O THAT HATES KIDS BUT IS MOTHERLY

↳ featuring : fusiguro megumi + gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues

↳ form : headcanons

↳ published : 14 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ request : hiii could u do headcanons for gojo & fushiguro with a s/o who openly talks about how she dislikes children but the moment she’s put in the same room as one she acts all motherly & children absolutely love her? thank you ☺️☺️

↳ barista’s notes : hello everyone~ so i just finished watching the recent episode of Penthouse : war in life season 2 (it’s a kdrama) and i am pissed and angry at so many characters...like everyone on that shows is just a whole mess ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ but moving on from that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and order a coffee again when we open ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

Fushiguro is someone that is neutral about children in my opinion like he doesn’t hate them but he doesn’t have baby fever, you know?

So when you inform him that you didn’t like children, he will be a little surprised but is completely understanding.

So when you and him were babysitting a sorcerer’s toddler, for the time being, he was sort of worried that you weren’t going to take it really lightly...but he was so wrong.

In the beginning, you did sigh since you weren’t really looking forward to the whole chore but that didn’t mean you were going to be like that for the whole time being.

Fushiguro is really shocked when you would play with the toddler like it was your own like sometimes you would twirl around while saying “whee, whee” with the child in your arms since it giggled when you did - it helped it stop crying when it was about to.

When he would try to take the toddler away from you since he knew your arms were tried, you would slowly back away at first before handing him the child with some hesitation.

There would be times when you would read to the child with the books that the sorcerer has given you and he’s really surprised at how patient you are since the toddler would immediately flip the page before you finished reading it or it would keep open to one page to admire the animal drawings.

The way you would look at the child and smile at it causes Fushiguro to really question if you really disliked children - because your actions say otherwise...like completely.

When it’s time for the child to take a nap, you and the child would be sleeping on his bed and it’s holding onto your fingers to keep you anchored - Fushiguro has like 1000 pictures of it (rip phone storage).

When it’s time for the baby to go back to the parent, you’re sad since the day felt so quick but when the parent turns back and walks away you would wave at it and the toddler will cutely wave at you back.

“You say you don’t like children, but you seem to actually do,”

“What are you talking about?”

Okay, now Fushiguro is really confused.

I have no idea what Gojo’s view on children will be - he probably is at first “ew kids” before taking a second to think about it and say “if it’s with you then I don’t mind”

But you respond with, “ha good luck with that, I don’t even like children”

Overall, Gojo finds the whole situation quite funny since he doesn’t really care about if you like children or not - you both are quite busy as people/sorcerers, so you both wouldn’t have the time.

However, when you and Gojo are at a dessert place and you see a child wanting something but the mother can’t afford it, you just walk towards them and ask if you could pay for what they both want.

Of course, the mother would reject but you would just crouch down and ask the child anyways because you know they can’t resist the small cake on the display.

Gojo is really surprised since you turned really soft-spoken - since you literally yell at him 24/7 when he is annoying - and you also have a gentle smile on your face, like the one where a mother looks at their child.

You would also point at a lot of the dessert at the display with an excited expression and the child would do the same since you want the mother and child to enjoy their day without any difficulty - kind of like “Wah look at that cake, isn’t it pretty?” “How about this ice cream, you can even make it look like a bear!”

Once your order what the family wanted, the family will obviously thank you since the mother was really struggling since she had just bought groceries for the week.

The child will thank you with a big smile to which you would reciprocate back since it’s nice to see the child happy once again - Gojo is still in a trace by the way.

Gojo is really quick to think of many scenarios with you and him as a family since this little act of kindness makes him realise that you really do care for kids - but he will tease you for it.

“So~ you said you don’t like kids but how about we start a family aye~”

“No way, if they’re your kids, they’ll be so irritating”

“But you love them anyway~”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[currymariana]

The tear in my heart (Chapter 2)

Paring: Bruce Wayne x Reader

Summary: Detective Y/L/N is the youngest yet the most skilled detective in Gotham’s Police, being one of the few James Gordon trusts with Batman stuff. After some time working closely with the Bat, Y/N starts to get the vigilante’s attention. But there’s no way this would work right? Getting close to you as Batman wasn’t a possibility, but maybe he could take a chance as Bruce, right?

Words: 6,1k

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A/N: it took so long to write this one, cause I think I rewrote about 5 times and I still couldn't be completely satisfied. Not that I'm now... but I just decided to stop demand too much of me, cause in my head is never good enough so I posted it anyways. And I'm happy with how it came out. Hope you like it too.

The next day you were sitting at your usual table at the coffee shop still working on that case. It happened with frequency, whenever you got tired of the same four walls of the station you would gather some of the documents of the case and went to the cafe nearby the station to clear your mind and work on things in a nicer environment. You usually order a sweet coffee (anything with whipped cream on it), some food to accompany, and talk to your friend the attendant Andrea.

“I can’t believe you actually meet Bruce Wayne” she said excitedly leaving your order on the table. Today the cafe is crowded, maybe it’s the time you decided to come, and all tables were occupied and Andrea was rather busy, so you didn’t have too much time to talk. “He passes by some times here, but he always seemed so busy, never really had a chance to speak with him.”

“Well, lucky you!” you said taking your coffee to take a sip “The guy is insufferable. I think I never meet someone so full of himself” you said taking another sip and rolling your eyes just remembering your encounter with Gotham’s favorite millionaire “I had to wait 30 minutes for him to decided to show up and it only takes 10 minutes of talk to make me wanna kill myself.” you were being dramatic you know that but you needed to prove your point. Andrea knew you too well those rich people, always saying that they spend their whole lives sitting around, doing nothing, looking pretty in their expensive clothes while the city falls apart. That act like going on stupid charity balls just to look like they were soo good was enough. “Didn’t even get anything helpful. At the end of the day, I just lost time and sanity”

Andrea knew your opinion about rich people. You were always saying that they spend their whole lives sitting still, doing nothing, looking pretty in their expensive clothes while the city falls apart. They act like going on stupid charity balls once or twice a year was enough. Even when they went to charity balls they were more worried about what they were wearing them the people they should be helping. You didn’t get why they were treated like celebrities, you hated it. So she could think that your opinion about Bruce Wayne was a little clouded by those previous thoughts. (It wasn’t he proved you to be exactly how you expected him to be)

“And you concluded that in 10 minutes of interaction?” she asked giving you a knowing look. Sitting in the chair in front of you. See… you sure she already thinks that you were biased, she thinks that you treated Bruce badly even before meeting him, she definitely thinks that you had your judgment clouded by your loath at rich people.

“Yes!” you answered a little too loud “10 minutes were more than enough to see how shallow he is, just like every other one of them”

“Okay!” she started speaking sarcastic “So you’re sure you didn’t conclude a lot of things even before you meet the guy and just take him for granted with everything he said?”

“I’m sure! If you had been there you would have seemed! I wasn’t biased okay?!”

“Well, I never said that,” she said giggling a little “But if the shoes fit…” she said laughing now, you just rolled your eyes at her and were going to answer when someone called her “Well I have to get back to work” she said getting up “Good luck with the case” and she gave you a smile and blew you a kiss before walking out.

You returned your focus to the documents analyzing the profile of your suspects, eating your muffin, and drinking your coffee when you heard the door of the cafe opening. You didn’t pained attention to it cause it was a busy hour, people were coming in and out all the time. It was after fell minutes that you felt a presence in front but you didn’t look up too focused on your papers. The person cleared their throat getting your attention

“Excuse me… this seat is taken?” when you look up, wearing a friendly smile with a cup of coffee in hand and pointing to the seat in front of you Bruce Wayne stands.

How great

Alfred entered the office with the tray in hand only to be greeted with the sign of his master’s spread in the chair with his hands on his face giving a frustrating moan, He walked into the room and left the tray with the teapot and cups on the coffee table.

“May I ask you, what bloody hell have you done?” he said sitting in the chair you previous were and started serving a cup of the to Bruce

“What?” he said finally looking at the butler “I didn’t do anything, I just guess she was done with questions” Bruce said defensively while taking the tea Alfred was offering him. “Thank you Alfred” he said quickly, receiving a questionable look

“Are you sure? Because she seemed quite disturbed when I saw her leaving the house and slamming every door she found in the way” Alfred said sarcastically serving a cup of tea for himself and drinking it.

“Well… she has a strong temper” Bruce said taking a drink of his tea avoiding looking Alfred in the eyes knowing there would be a lesson

“It did not seem like that to me”

“Are you kidding me?” Bruce said straightening up in the chair and resting his cup on the coffee table “Don’t you remember when I first meet her? She looked like she was going to throw me off that roof and had a staring contest with Batman, and honestly… if wasn’t for the mask I think I would lose.”

“Yeah, I remember very well. I also remember she acted like that after you were rude at her”

“That’s true, but I wasn’t being rude now! Actually, she was weird. Like a completely different person.” Bruce said relaxing again in the chair and return to his drink “And maybe I got annoyed and told her to ‘actually do her job’” he said mumbly under his breath

Alfred looks incredulous “Maybe? Or you actually said it?” he just nodded and Alfred knew what he meant. “Oooh Master Bruce” Bruce felt like the lesson he was avoiding was coming and he really didn’t want to hear how wrong he was.

Alfred was the only person who he accepted a lecture but even coming from him it wasn’t nice to be told you were wrong. Plus, he wasn’t all wrong, you were treating him badly ever since he arrived. He knew you for 2 years and had never seen you soo hostile for someone you just met. So he got frustrated, he was excited to finally meet you as Bruce Wayne, maybe you could be friends, he could get closer to you know you better since as Batman he couldn’t do this stuff. But he wasn’t expecting things to go south as they did. So now he just hoped to never see you as Bruce again. He was fine with the relation had with you like Batman and that way he could keep a safe distance.

“She was hostile! Then she asked about the hotel and I had to tell that stupid story about the fountain, then she started laughing! I got embarrassed and just lost my mind. Pretty sure he was judging me, thinking I’m stupid and shallow rich playboy” Bruce started trying to justify himself

“And is not that you want everyone to think?” Alfred said interrupting him and giving him a challenging look

“Yes, but-”

“But… you cared about what she thinks” Alfred interrupted him leading the conversation in the direction he wanted to.

“I don’t care about what other people think Alfred” Bruce said defensive

“Well.. but you did” Alfred tried to get him to see what he was refusing to see.

Alfred knew Bruce better than everybody else in the world, probably the only person who knew him at all. Maybe Bruce couldn’t see it yet but Alfred could, as clear as day, it was clear how different he acted when the subject was you. How brighter he has been ever since Batman started working on cases with you. Even in the beginning when you both didn’t get along soo well when he arrived home complaining about how stubborn you were and refused to follow a simple order and how it would get you killed, Alfred saw he was actually worried about your well-being. And as the partnership grew, as you started to learn how to work together Bruce won’t shut up about you, Alfred teases him and he always said is just professional admiration. Yeah, it may have started as it but Alfred was sure Bruce was passed that. And still had this Batman thing. How Master Bruce made it his life’s goal to protect the city, to be a lone vigilante. He would never admit it. He doesn’t know he deserves to be happy. He was just stubborn to accepted it. Alfred has made his personal mission to make Bruce see his feelings for you.

“I did not” he said angrily and practically slamming the teacup on the coffee table

“Tell me master Bruce… if it was anyone else would you be embarrassed about the fountain story or would you be worried if they thought you were a ‘stupid and shallow rich playboy’?” Alfred said finishing his tea and landing the cup on the tray, getting up and collecting the tea set setting on the tray before leaving. Bruce didn’t say a word he knew Alfred was right, he was mad because he cared for some reason he didn’t care if the whole of Gotham sees him as a rich playboy but he cares if you do. That’s why he was frustrated, that’s why he said that stupid thing. He is starting to realize that he wants you to see him differently.

Seeing that Bruce had nothing else to say probably thinking about what he just said, Alfred started to leave the room but right before stepping out he said “Fix it, okay?”

At night Bruce decided to investigate the hotel. He owned the hotel but still, he decided to put on his batman closets and trespass his own hotel. To see if he could find something to help on the case. It was late night so only some members of the staff were around. He went to the manager’s office and he has looking at every file in the drawer, some employee’s files, he looked at some numbers and hotel accounts and a lot of useless papers. When he realized that was a locked one. He managed to open it and saw more papers, it looked like the same ones he saw before for the numbers but only papers from the day he bought the hotel. Different numbers, and different numbers from the ones that were sent to him. Since he bought it he thought it was weird the hotel wasn’t giving profit, but he didn’t need it so he didn’t care. But now it was clear why. The manager is stealing and forging the numbers.

He had other things to do that night so he didn’t dig too deep. This was an important piece of information that you probably didn’t know since you haven’t mentioned it when you met him. And it could help on the case. So he decided he was going to share this with you somehow.

That’s how he finds himself, standing in front of you holding a hot cup of coffee while you’re too focused on your papers no notice his presence. So he clears his throat and finally speaks.

“Excuse me… this seat is taken?” he give you a genual smile but you looked up and seemed actually disappointed to see he was the one talking to you, so now he was a little nervous and he really hated how he didn’t have much control of his emotions when you were involved like he was it everyone else.

“No, it’s not taken!” you said seeming bothered, but anyway he started pulling the chair to sit on, “I said it wasn’t taken I didn’t say you could sit,” you said not even caring to sound rude anymore after your encounter yesterday.

“Well… but there is no other sit available,” he said giving you a smirk, you looked around and realized that all seats were taken leaving only the seat across you available when you were just opening your mouth to tell him he could sit he spoke again “And I don’t think you own the place to tell where I can seat”. SHUT UP BRUCE

“Do you? I’m sure you own a lot of places right?!” you said sarcastically but he didn’t answer you just kept looking at you, even though he said you didn’t own the place to tell him where to seat it looked like he was still waiting for your consent to sit so you decided to speak “Suit yourself.” you said return your focus to the papers without even looking at him you said “Just don’t bother me and let me do my job as you told me to yesterday” you said angrily the last part.

“Look… I’m sorry about yesterday okay?! I was rude but you were rude too. So we're good, right?” he said sting and taking a drink of his coffee

“I wasn't rude” you said defensively now looking at him. And that’s how the most heated and tension-filled argument of his life began. Both of you are too proud to let the other win.

“You’re kidding me? You weren’t exactly nice”

“I was being professional. I don’t have to be nice for an interrogation” you said

uninterested trying to end this conversation

“Was it an interrogation? I thought you said I wasn’t a suspect”

“I said that to everyone, people tend to spit out easily when they think they’re safe”

“And I’m not a suspect anymore?”

“Don't you remember what I said when I left? I put away this possibility the moment I realize you wouldn’t be smart enough to hide your trails like he is doing”

“Ouch!” he said dramatically, putting his hand on his chest. by one side he was glad to see his facade worked just fine, if people could think he has not smart enough to hide a murder they definitely couldn't think he has Batman, but on the other hand he has sad cause the person assuming it now was you. “I remember very well! Good to know that’s you being professional”

“I dropped the professional facade the moment you gently told me to actually do my job”

“Okay… I told already that I’m sorry and admitted that I was rude. Can you just admit you were rude too and apologize too.” he knew he could maybe just let it go it would be easier but his pride wouldn't let him, and it seemed yours too. You couldn't just admit that MAYBE you were rude too, but you had your reasons

“ I don’t know what you’re talking about, I have nothing to apologize for” you said and turn back to your papers “Now please... let me do my job”

You would never admit it was a heated but rather kind of fun discussion, it seemed like you both knew exactly what to say next and there wasn't a moment of silence always coming with a perfect comeback to what the other just said. Like there was some weird chemistry between you two. But you would never admit that even to yourself, either that you may need to apologize too. So you just throw these thoughts away and focus on the papers.

Bruce was cursing at himself for not keeping himself in control. God! He looked like one of those boys in kindergarten who kept teasing the girl over some attention. You weren’t helping either. He came here to bring you the information he found out and as Alfred told him to “fix it” since your first encounter with Bruce Wayne went as well as this one is going. But you were making things difficult. Why couldn't you just accept his apology? Why couldn't you just say you’re sorry too? Then he remembered this looked like your first interaction with him at all, two years ago, with Batman. But only this time it looked like the roles were reversed. You were defensive, so he had to do what you did at the time and insist. He came here with an objective in mind so he is going to make it. So after some minutes of silence with you practically with the face on the papers, Bruce cleared his throat.

“What is it now?” you said looking up annoyedly

“So... I wasn’t expecting to meet you again so soon” all lies, he knew this was your favorite coffee shop and that you practically lived here besides the station (not in a creep way, you just told Batman about it at least a thousand of times) “but… After you left I realized I should know better about the places I invest my money on-”

“No kidding” you said sarcastically

“Can you please let me continue?” he said firmly, you just nodded and he continued “Three of my employees were killed and I didn't know it until you called that day, so I decided to look at every information about the hotel I had. And my accountant discovered a diversion of large amounts of money he trailed the money to some side account of Henry Howard”

“Wait!” you said showing him the file of Henry that already was one of your principal suspects “Henry Howard? The manager?” you asked and he nodded

“Yeah, it looks like right after I brought the hotel the sucker saw the change of administration as an opportunity to steal money and forge the numbers so no one found out.”

“But someone did..” you said quietly remembering something you had seen at the beginning of your investigation and putting together the information Bruce just gave you.

“What?” he heard you mumbling at yourself and suddenly getting together all the papers you had messy on the table, throwing in your bag, and quickly getting up. You didn’t answer him.

“Thank you Mister Wayne '' it was the last thing you said before rushing out of the coffee shop Bruce was frozen seeing you rush to leave the place. He guessed you probably came to a conclusion since he knew you always get energetic when you are close to closing a case. He was glad that even in a messy way and with an awful back story he was able to help you. He even got a ‘Thank you in the end.

Turns out it was the manager. After you left the cafe you rushed to the station and started to put things together more clearly, you knew one of the widows told you that before dying her husband was really happy saying that their lives would change and the husband of Ms. Bennett had told you she said that she knew a secret that she cannot tell him now but soon he would know. That information didn’t make sense to you until now. He was arrested but was now talking to his lawyer, but since he confessed you don’t think there is much he can do. But that’s something to worry about later.

You’re now in your room staring at the pile of cases you had after losing so much time on this one but at least taking a rest before taking another one when a knock on your door got your attention. You looked up to see Gordon walking in.

“So I heard your suspect confessed” he said walking to you and taking a chair to seat

“Yeah… he did'' you said stretching in your chair “Just had to pull some pressure, told him I knew about the money he was stealing and the guy didn't take it.” you said proudly of yourself

“He was stealing money?” he asked and you just nodded “And why kill his friends?”

“They weren’t his friends, actually they found out and were blackmailing him. He said that he couldn't do that anymore, they were always asking for more money and he freaked out. Then he killed Bennett first, after some weeks Edward, and last week it was Joey’s time.

“How did you pull that out anyway?”

“Aah well.. Bruce Wayne told me. He said his accountant found the wrong numbers and they found out the scam” you said and he gave you a confused look “He was telling the truth, I could see it. So I took his word and it made sense it the rest of the story”

Bruce Wayne…..

For a moment you forgot about him. He had helped you, you don’t know how you would find out the money situation without him. Maybe he isn't the most pleasing person in the world but he helped you. You were starting to think he might deserve an apology.

“Ohh, I thought said that talking to him was just a waste of time”

“Well.. it was… at first. But later we meet at the cafe and he told me this was actually helpful information. It looks like he did something helpful at once right?”

“Stop being so mean” he said laughing “He is always helping you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, have you seen how much he spends on charity causes? The orphanage you grow up in included. And the handful of people his company helps? And you know… every year we receive a generous anonymous donation, but I’m pretty sure he is the one to send it” you were shocked, you didn’t know he did all that, the media was always so focused on who he was dating. Why didn't they talk about that? Maybe they did and you just didn’t see it. Maybe that didn’t mean anything

“I’m sure he is doing it just to look good on the picture” you said

“With anonymous donations? Really Y/N” Gordon said with a challenging look “I don’t know how it went yesterday, I’m not defending him or anything… but… maybe… not all rich people are the same, you know. The same way, not every cop is the same.” Gordon knew your strong opinion about the elite of Gotham too, it’s not like it is something you hide, you actually used to talk about it a lot. So you're guessing that knowing your opinion and knowing you like nobody else Jim knows that your interaction with Bruce was in fact clouded with prejudices and hostility.

At some point he had to admit you were wrong too, of course, he was rude, but you were too. You were rude from the beginning, already judging his lateness, the story about the purchase of the hotel, and calling him dumb indirectly. Not to mention the cafe encounter where he was trying to apologize but you couldn't find in yourself how to do it too. You knew you needed to apologize, you knew you were rude too but you were just too proud to say it to him. And now knowing the things he does? If what Jim is saying is true and you know it is, he helps a lot of people, more than any other millionaire in Gotham. Maybe he deserved at least an apology.

“Maybe I was a bitch to him” you confessed to Jim and he just gave you a smile.

“Maybe?” he teased you

“I was” you confirm “But that’s in the past, what is gone is gone. I can live with it”

You couldn't. Knowing you like you do, you may think you can live without apologizing and thanking him for his help, but you couldn't. You would think about this all day, you were the kind who apologizes to the waiter if your order comes wrong. You would think about Bruce saying he is sorry in the cafe and you just saying you had nothing to apologize for, replaying the scene over and over in your head. You started to gather your things and the car's keys.

“Where are you going?” Jim asked seeing you rush out of the room.

“To the Wayne Manor”

Okay, Y/N! You can do it. Is very simple. You just come in, ask Alfred if Mr. Wayne is home... If he isn’t you just leave the message to him (which you hoped would happen), and if he is... just say your sorry for your behavior on both occasions, thank him for the help with the case, tell him that the guilty is already arrested, he will have his money back soon and leave. Simple. No need to further conversation, no need for an argument. Just say what you gotta say and leave. That’s easy.

You were standing at the front door right now replaying what you gonna say in your mind a thousand times. You wanted to do it but at the same time, you didn’t. You know it’s not a weakness to apologize, to confess you were wrong, but you didn't want Bruce to be right either.

You took a deep breath before knocking and waited, after a few seconds maybe a minute the door opened, and you were greeted by a very happy Alfred. He knew it was you, since he was the one who let you past the enormous gate that surrounded the land.

“Ooooh Detective Y/L/N how great to see you,” he said widening the door so you could come in. “What an honor to see you two days in a row right?” he asked politely as always you smiled at him and took a step in. “May I know the reason for your visit? Would like another tea?” he said already walking toward the kitchen. Excited to have you there again even after yesterday's fiasco.

“No no! You don’t have to” you said shaking your hands to stop him from taking any step further “Actually I don’t intend to spend much time. Is Mister Wayne home? I just need to talk something quickly with him.” you asked secretly hoping he would say no so you wouldn't have to deal with it directly to him.

“Yes, he is! I am going to call him now.” he said giving you a smile and showing you a place to sit “Just sit here and wait a bit please, I will get him in a minute.”

Bruce was in the cave getting ready for patrol. He was thinking about your interaction early and the disaster that went again with you probably just hate him more than you already did. He was hoping he could see you tonight, at least you were extra nice to Batman, even if he couldn't talk about personal stuff and get closer as Batman he was glad you had at least a good relationship.

But when Alfred came down the cave saying that you were upstairs wishing to talk to him, he got nervous. It couldn't be good right. It was never good. He was pretty sure already that Bruce and Y/N were synonyms of conflict, bad communication, and arguments. But he rushed upstairs anyway, having a mix of wanting to see you again and curiosity about what this was about.

You waited a few minutes analyzing the room you were in, the entrance room of the mansion had a huge portrait of the Wayne family, with a young Bruce standing close to his parents. Everybody in Gotham knew the tragic story about the Waynes, you were a baby when it happened but it was impossible to not know how Bruce Wayne became an orphan and the owner of a billionaire fortune overnight. Raised only by his butler. It must have been lonely. You never had parents but you had your brother, growing up in orphanages and foster houses he was always there to protect you. Looking at the portrait of their family you couldn't help but think about your broken little one. Something you don't do often and when you do you quickly push away. You were too lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice someone else arriving in the room.

“I was 8 in this picture” you jumped a little from hearing a voice behind you only to quickly realize it was Bruce and he had caught you staring at his family portrait. "It was taken in the same year they died" you turned to him nodded and gave him a sweet smile. Why is he telling you that?

“I never met mine” Why are you telling him that?

“That sucks!” he said before starting walking toward you “Why you’re here?” he asked genuinely and you realized he was trying extra hard to not sound rude, maybe wanting to avoid another meaningless discussion, and you were glad for it. You didn't want to discuss either.

“Huuuuuuum…” you said slowly trying to gather the courage to do what you came here for

“I wanted to.. to apologize” you started saying and saw a smile growing on his face. “You were right! I think we were both rude and… I may have jumped to some pretentious conclusions even before we met.” you said now looking at the floor wanting to avoid eye contact with him since his eyes didn’t seem to leave your face “You see… I thought you were one of those rich selfish jerks that spend money on cars and women while the city falls apart… even if you were” his eyebrows furrowed hearing you said that “... what you do with your money is not concerned to me, right? but I know now you make good use of it.” Bruce was listening to your every word doesn't matter how messy they were but at the same time, he was hypnotized by your face, thinking how much this speech you were giving reminded him of the first time you met Batman and became a babbling mess. “Anyways… sorry about yesterday... and today too - I was a bitch! I hate being a bitch.. I swear I’m not like that - I'm usually nice” you stopped talking suddenly a habit you caught after realizing you have been babbling non-stop.

“I’m sorry too! I know I said early but it may have sounded a little fake… with me demanding you to apologize too. I just want you to know I'm genuinely sorry” he said after you stopped, you weren’t expecting him to say anything - breaking the whole plan you had made in your head, so you decided to just nod, smile, and continue with the list you had to say.

“I also wanted do thank you,” you said and he looked confused at you “for your help… with the case” you explained and he came to realization nodded and you continued “The thing you told me about the money was crucial to solving the case when I called the manager to an interrogation and mentioned we knew about the money the bastard freaked out and confessed everything” after explaining what happened with the case you just had one more thing to say to end this and be free from guilt “The money stolen will be returned to you… so don’t worry about it, it will be back in no time.”

He could tell he didn't want that money, that you could leave it to the police or find some charity cause to give to. But he didn't need you or anybody else to know what he did that wasn't the reason he was doing. He decided he would take the money back them make an anonymous donation himself.

“Thank you for letting me know. I’m glad I could help” he said only now realizing you two were standing a few feet apart in front of his family paint.

Looking up to his parents and looking down at your face Bruce never felt more conflicted. He had promised to protect the city to never let another kid lose his parents like he did. In order to do that he couldn't get distracted. But he also wanted to be happy. Putting someone else in the equation was putting this person in danger and he didn't want that. But being Batman and being alone for the rest of his life was something that deep down he knows he doesn't want too. Should he try to be happy? Should he take a chance with you?

Seeing he went silent and were weirdly looking at you and at his parent's portrait, you had already said everything you came here for so you just wanted to leave, you cleared your throat and took a step back.

“I should get going now! Thank you for hearing me out Mr. Wayne and sorry again about everything” you said awkwardly before start walking toward the entrance door. Bruce had heard you but he has still trapped inside his head with a million thoughts running through his head. This right now would be the perfect timing to make a move, he could ask you out, he could try to be happy. But as he sees you leaving he looks at his parents one more time and makes a decision.

“Yeah yeah! That’s no problem. I was a jerk too. So we are good” he decided couldn't drag anyone to this. H couldn't drag you to the mess he was. He had so many issues, being batman was only one of them. He couldn't ask no one to live in his messy world no one deserved that. He didn’t deserve that. He needed to stay focus on his goal.

You just nodded and started opening the door, when Alfred came practically running to stop you from doing so

“Leaving already Detective?” he asked and you just nodded “So please let me open the door for you” you were just opening your mouth to protest when he interrupted you “that’s my job” he said laughing and you laugh together.

“Thank you, Alfred” and you let him be a gentleman and open the door for you

But Alfred was opening that door painfully slowly. He knew his master feelings for you he knew this was a perfect opportunity. He was praying to every god that exists to Bruce stop being stupid and at least give it a try. He started looking at his master with a pleading look hoping he would understand him just with a glare.

When Alfred arrived at the scene Bruce’s mind just went a million miles again. He thought he had made a decision, to let you go, let it be. Be batman and be Gotham's protector, a lonely vigilante forever. But seeing Alfred talking to you and holding that door, opening the door with the speed of a turtle, he started having seconds thoughts. Alfred loved him and raised him with love, and ever since he came back with this Batman idea he had been supportive but wouldn't shut up about how he wanted Bruce to be happy. How he shouldn't be alone and don't push people away.

Bruce wanted that too, deep down he knew he didn't want to be alone. He started thinking of endless possibilities and realized that if he asked you out, it didn’t mean it would be forever, it didn't mean it would work but he could at least give it a try right?! Just ask, see how it goes. There was no need to share his secret or bring you to his messy world. He could enjoy life for a few moments. For that, he had to take a risk.

And after what felt like hours of Alfred looking at him and slowly opening the door Bruce opened his mouth and it came out the last thing he thought he would say today.

“Detective Y/L/N!” he called your attention and you turned to look at him confusingly, he was acting weird like he lost his confidence and turned into some shy teenager rubbing the back of his neck and looking at the floor “Would you like to go out with me?”

WHAT? Bruce Wayne was asking you out? Like… on a date? That’s definitely not how you were expecting to go on your visit to the Wayne Manor. It didn't make any sense. How should you react to this? Your mind was running miles per second and before you could help yourself your body has spoken for itself.

“No, thank you! Bye!” you said quickly getting out of the Manor and running to your car.

Chapter 3

yeah yeah I know... I feel bad for Bruce. I'm feeling mean now ksksksks I'm sorry but I had to. Things will soon start to get better, and our two idiots will start to get along... I hope

Hope you liked it and let me know what you think.