#I do wonder if you're trolling

[theowlkitto]

Here's Just a little thing I made using my trolls OCS! ⬆️

Original base ⬆️ (I couldn't find the person who made this, so if you know who the original poster is, please tell me so I can properly credit them)

Oc names:

Crystal (the bewildered country troll)

Ripstop (the beefy techno troll)

Damien (the fruity purple troll)

[tyrannuspitch]

people on this website are always talking about how we need more serialised longform media with more pointless meandering where nothing happens well NOT ME. get to the fucking point!!!

[yeyinde]

stalker!Simon decides to have a little fun with his favourite camgirl.

the message comes up halfway into your "show."

it's a boring night. slow. you wear a lingerie set one of your viewers sent in beneath a silk robe, all in a pretty pastel pink—cliche, but it works; an uncomfortably disgusting version of hair theory unfolding in front of your eyes—and discreetly chug wine when you twist away to grab a new toy. a series of pale pink vibrators, nipple clamps. mundane depravity for what's shaping up to be a lacklustre night.

but the money that pours in from these little shows (adult version of classic party games—hide and seek, would you rather, truth or dare) is one step closer to erasing your debts. student loans. car payments. rent. you smile so wide it aches, and put your best face on when you blink, coquettish and coy, at the camera where nameless, faceless men throw money in a ring for a scrap of your attention.

tonight's game is Simon Says. and it's supposed to be normal. boring.

but a message from a viewer named Simon (in a sea of many who cheekily changed their usernames to match the theme of the game) stands out.

Simon says... go lock your door.

you blink. between all of the Simon Says touch yourself for me baby, pull your shirt down, lemme fuck you for real it sticks out. a change in the routine.

you huff, pouting. "already did that, Simon. c'mon, gimme something else to do, honey."

another one pops up. Simon says... you shouldda got a dog.

your brows furrow. "that's not part of the game, Simon. i'm gonna move on—"

Simon says... open your door.

he's paying you handsomely. dropping coins, large amounts of money, for each message to shoot to the top. little superchats. why he isn't taking advantage of it and paying you to do something sexy, something lewd, unnerves you. your heart starts to race, thudding against your ribs almost painfully.

it's fine, you think. he's just a creep. a loser. "uh huh, not part of the game, Simon. i'm afraid i'm gonna have to cut you off—"

you block him. they don't normally get under your skin like this. ever. at all. even when they throw random names in your dms, hoping one of them happens to be yours, and try to blackmail you to your fake friends and family. it doesn't bother you as much as this. as him. get a dog. how absurd.

the next series of chats pass without the same odd comments. take your bra off, but leave the robe on. act coy, like you don't want to—

creeps, you think, in their own right. but. paying ones. so, you smile. stiff. uncomfortable. grinning so wide it hurts. pretending to ignore the strange unease growing in your guts. your eyes sliding back to the superchats saved in a glowing log. let me in. a troll. whatever. it's nothing. nothing. you'll drink wine after this, scrub your skin raw in the shower and buy yourself something pretty with the money these greasy losers threw your way—

Simon says... let me in.

you feel your heart in your throat. it can't be him. you blocked him. you have mods to keep trolls out of your chats, but wonder—hopefully—if maybe it failed. maybe they found your stream are just being weird. strange. but when you check, the filters are on. he's a registered user. paid the premium to watch you. to get an invite to your special game nights. it makes it worse, you think, that he paid to be here. to do this.

your hand shakes. you block this user, too, ignoring the discomfort churning inside your chest. the fear spiking along the nape of your neck. hair raising. there's a prickle on your skin. the feeling of being watched

no. it's fine. you're fine—

"ah, what else should i do, Simon?" you ask your viewers, pulling on another smile. one that hurts. aches. wobbles around the edges. you'll end the stream in a few minutes. order Thai food. drink yourself stupid. take the day off tomorrow. use this creeps money and waste it. blow it on something stupid. dumb. laugh about it with your friends.

your shoulders dip. the tension easing. you're fine. you're at home. the door—

you locked it. right? you definitely, absolutely, locked it when you brought in the package from the delivery driver. the massive, hulking man who loomed in your doorway, too wide, even, to fit inside, and growled out in a low, brassy timbre: sign 'ere. you took the pen, pretending he wasn't drilling holes into you with his gaze, eyes liquid in the dark. intense. wanting. and then scurried inside—

back pressed against the door, hands wrapped around the lingerie set.

you glance at the chat. "which Simon bought me this cute set? i'd like to thank them personally," you murmur, forcing your shoulders to drop. it's fine. you live in the middle of nowhere. no one is coming to your door.

there's no takers in the chat. you shift on the chair, licking your lips. "it's really cute, Simon. a perfect size, too, and i just—"

something catches your eye in the corner of the monitor. a movement. a slight shift. a whisper of fabric. you tilt your chin, peering into the hazy black reflection.

what you're looking at doesn't make any sense. your bedroom door is open. a curtain of black drapes over the wall where the pale strip of light doesn't reach.

the washroom light is still on, a yellow spill illuminating the hallway, but nothing is there. no one is in the hall. but you know you closed your door. you always do when you stream. your heart trips over itself. leaps to your throat. you almost choke on it—

another bubble pops up. Simon says... hey. uh, who is that guy behind you?

there's a ringing in your ears. your hair stands on end. something moves again. the black mass wasn't a shadow. it moves. takes shape. the covered head nearly reaches your ceiling, body filling the entirely of your room. massive. a mountain you remember thinking. a fucking mountain, you texted your friend. thighs the size of tree trunks—

a hand reaches out, grabs hold of your power bar. thick gloved fingers curling over the button. in the bluegreen glow of your computer screen, a man steps out.

"glad y'liked it, pet." the deep, brassy drawl sends shivers down your spine. you try to scream, mouth opening wide to choke it out, yell for help—

your chat bubbles up, feverish in their excitement. you skin through the messages, stomaching churning as it clicks in your head. their rabidness isn't about saving you, but—

(omg he's gonna fuck her pron??? we're getting pron????? no fucking wayyyyy god i wish it were me—)

this isn't a fucking bit, you morons, you want to howl. call the fucking police—

but he gets there first. two strides. it happens in a blink. the screen goes back and he's on you in seconds.

you're not even sure how someone so big, so heavy, could move that quietly—

"ah-ah, none o'tha' now," his hand curls around your neck, tight. choking. you try to fight but he just huffs, breathing in deep, chest expanding across your spine as his other hand snakes around your waist, trapping you against a corded forearm. he bends down, nuzzles his jaw into your crown. coos:

"Simon says... turn around for me pretty girl, an' be good, now. went through all this trouble t'find you. think i deserve a little reward—"

[veronicawildest]

NAKSHATRA SERIES: OBSERVATION FROM DIFFERENT NAKSHATRAS (TERCERO)

If you're offended just block me. If you get it, you get it, if you don't, fuck off

PURVA PHALGUNI:

When you're in a Laziest competition and the opponent is Purva phalguni native: ☹️🙁🫤😰😰😨😞

They're the 2nd place for being cheesiest interms of being relationship and inlove (I will revealed the winner of this on the next observations)

I realized just I've been googling Sydney Sweeney that her fiance is 13 years much older than her. The Purva phalguni sun celebrities too as well:

Blake Lively (Purva phalguni moon) and Ryan Reynolds

Beyonce (Purva phalguni sun) and Jay Z

Mena Suvari ( Purva phalguni moon) married Richard Brinkmann on March 4, 2000, when she was 21 and he was 37

It's really a pattern and the Opposite sign of leo is aquarius which is saturn.

Purva phalguni love cars. Aside from Elon Musk, Sydney Sweeney has a tiktok account about repairing cars. She has Purva phalguni sun conjunct rahu (intensifying the energy of Purva phalguni)

The physiognomy of this nakshatra is that they have THICK and unruly eyebrows. (Brooke Shields, Taylor Hill) even that i known in my life has this trait

Certain Purva phalguni celebs talks about anxiety and stressed a lot. The lead singer of Twenty One Pilots, Tyler Joseph is a Purva phalguni moon and you can observe that his songs has a lot of topic about this certain extent. Doubt and Stressed are some of this.

They really love music and arts. Claire nakti specifically talk about performing arts but all kinds of arts related to pleasure. They really love it.

Don't let the laziness of this nakshatra fool you. If they have a goal they'll be great at focusing and getting the goal (Just give them a reason to give a F*** to get it but if they really don't care, they be lazy ass about it)

UTTARA PHALGUNI:

Connections are important to them (even if it's shallow at some extend you will observe them social climbing up way to the top)

Friends before hoes nakshatra (The girls of this nakshatra are more hoes into friends they love their partner more than friends tho)

The older partner one that i observe over purva phalguni girls earlier extend to this nakshatra. but for girls too.

Much funnier than you would expect and also not afraid to speak their minds even if someone is gonna get hurt by them. My classmate has this. If she is a celebrity, one second = cancelled!

Now that I've mention that Nicki Minaj has this moon. No wonder why, Some would say her unhinged opinions on certain things is her manifestation at Jyestha, but i would disagree.

(Some unevolved) girls of this nakshatra are not so much girls girl. They don't claim to be one which is fine but you don't need to bring down others. (They doing it for their friends because of connections y'know shittalking)

The abbreviation of I of Uttara phalguni is INDEPENDENT

HASTA:

I underestimated how this nakshatra gets a lot of hate (some of them are understandable tho)

They're great friends tho. they're are f yapper (if they're comfortable at you)

I always observe them. They're like a sexy librarian (common sidereal virgos that i known have a glasses)

If you want a manipulation teacher who can teach you all kinds of manipulation techniques (I'm talking about drawing, forgery and tarots manipulation involving hands) Go to HASTA!!!!!

They're great mimicker and impersonator (not all are accurate but most of them are funny)

Witty nakshatra (they known how to banter)

Females with this nakshatra have MANY male friends.

They're fvcking horny. Don't let the hasta = nun, virgin fool you bruh

Chitra:

Major trolls!! What i mean to be troll is They like to play dumb even if they are not dumb (Extends to Mrigashira and Dhanistha) They're not DUMB.

They have a manipulation for cameras, If hasta excel at being at work or manipulation of paper involving hands, Chitra would excel at editing, photos and also jewels.

Catriona Gray (Miss Universe 2018) has Chitra moon. As you would see, she looks like Olivia Rodrigo (Chitra moon). Her iconic answer in M.U is Silver Lining and correlation of this nakshatra to jewels.

Most of the gay people that i known have this nakshatra

Kylie Jenner has Mars in Chitra conjunct her moon. That's why the influence of the body is very mars like nakshatra (Her sisters that have some Mars nakshatra/Sidereal mars sign have curvy BBL vibes are Kim Kardashian (Chitra sun) Khloe Kardashian (Dhanistha moon) and Kourtney Kardashian (Ashwini Sun))

SWATI

Others expect that Swati would be the Sweet side of the Libra compare to the other two (Libra side of Chitra and Vishakha), They're fvcking BLUNT!!!! They're also proud to be "Scorpios" just like Vishakha.

Common placement to have on Celebrities. Especially on states. The Celebrities we have on my home country is dominated by Mars nakshatra

In the past, I have a crush on this swati guy. First impression to him that he wasn't real (my mind is foggy remembering him, he's the first one I met to be that unique) even tho I spoke and everyday we talk on school (i didn't know vedic astrology when i met him) wasn't aware that i've been channeling this nakshatra and picking up the vibes of him. ( He loves to joke as well)

My interpretation and explanation of why Libra ( extends to Vishakha) are debilitated on this sign is the misguided aggression of this nakshatra. Some would argue that Magha and Purva phalguni have this too (Magha being cocky about it) but Libra are passive aggressive for some reason. They dont know how to properly assert themselves.

Swati are Physically attractive (you're lying if you found one ugly, or just a hater)

VISHAKHA:

I read on tumblr once, I forgot what her tumblr astrology name was but she mention that Vishakha and Cowboy correlation and I agree to this. Beyonce recently made this. In the past Miley Cyrus has Vishkaha moon and she made Jolene cover. Also, Owen Wilson famously play cowboys in his film.

I just don't know how to word this properly but Vishakha looks good (like goody two shoes good noy reffering to good looking) even if they're not (bad attitude).

If were talking about attractiveness of this nakshatra: i would say HOT, SEXY, SEDUCTIVE. Honestly, this nakshatra extends to femme fatale in my opinion.

They're fucking two face ( I know this is the symbol of Purva bhadraphada but Vishakha? Backstabbing if you're UNEVOLVED)

They great at fashion tho. If you want advice just go to Viskaha interms of beauty and fashion. They're great (among all nakshatra i considered them to be great at transforming other people, Claire nakti said this nakshatra was great for makeover so)

[ventique18]

~ Thoughtless ~

Somehow you feel it. Maybe you're just letting things get to your head, but maybe. Just maybe.

Malleus is in love with you.

How can you not think that, when he comes by to see you almost everyday, or when he sometimes finds himself thoughtlessly tucking a stray hair away from your face. When his hands would naturally find their way to rest on your hip while you're busy baking something, and he would curiously watch from behind?

So when he carelessly lays his head on your lap one lazy afternoon, you find yourself blurting out "I think I'm in love with you." Just as naturally as is his intimacy is towards you.

He doesn't speak. Doesn't even laugh. He just thoughtlessly pulls you down and, clumsy and mismatched as they are, lets your lips wordlessly do the talking.

You're over the moon. How could you not be, when a person you thought was beyond your reach is hopelessly in love with you just as you are with him? You'll be spending your time as a couple from now on. Going on romantic dates together, greeting each other first thing in the morning, getting to know each other in a much, much more familiar depth. Maybe even considering... marriage.

There's an infinite things that you want to do with him. So many things that make you happy. You're happy.

... Until...

"I wonder what bouquet my betrothed prefers for our coming wedding?"

You overhear him as he strolls with Lilia.

Betrothed? As in, someone you promised to marry? He did say wedding.

What the hell.

He's already engaged to someone? And he still kissed you so passionately like that? All along, he was already meant to marry somebody else while he's fooling around touching you here and there, kissing you and pecking you and hugging you and... Is that why he didn't say he loved you when you confessed? He's just leading you on because he's bored?

That son of a--

Tears. Ugly tears. You scream furiously and cry miserably as you strangle and punt and wrangle your poor pillow at Ramshackle. Your best friends watch silently while they try to coax you with your favorite food and your favorite zero-substance comedy film. It works. Your mood lightens.

Until they go home, and he barges into your home with grin you wanted to sucker-punch off his ugly, cheating, demonic, monstrosity of a lying face.

"Why are you here?" You spit out.

His thick, slimy skin couldn't taste the venom in your words.

"Good evening," he giddily greets as he walks over to you-- almost prancing for god's sake, "I was wondering. What type of flowers do you like?"

"The hell are you on about? You think you can keep stringing me around? I'll fuck you up."

"Careful. I am exercising a deep self-restraint out of respect for you. But if you keep playing with me like this, telling jokes about 'fucking me'-- as people say nowadays-- I might truly end up debauching the sanctity of marriage."

You leer at him. What the hell is he yapping about?

"Fuck?"

He sits on the sofa beside you; as graceful as he always seems to be. No, actually. He sits as ugly as a bridge troll. "I see you are impatient. Truth be told, I am too. But we best wait until after graduation, at least. So before then, I would like to ask: what flowers would you prefer for our wedding? I rather wish to grow them myself."

"Our wed--"

And it clicks in your head.

'My betrothed.'

'What flowers would you like?'

'Our wedding.'

It's you. The betrothed is you.

You almost laugh out loud. Out of the silliness of it all, out of embarrassment perhaps, even out of relief. This guy. God, this guy. What a careless, thoughtless, whimsical, nonsensical, brainless guy. But somehow,

"I like wisteria."

It's just, so naturally, him.

"The flowers in full bloom when we first met."

[gasolinerainbowpuddles]

991 i hav emerjenci

Wow, what an absolute dumpster fire, right? *gestures broadly* ↓Below the cut↓ are some specific things as a reader/mutual/friend/etc you can do that will make things a little better.

You come across someone posting/using someone else's work without express permission to do so:

INFORM THE ORIGINAL CREATOR/POSTER (OP) DIRECTLY ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ Let OP know BEFORE you attempt to engage with the person on their behalf. ✧ OP will probably want to lay eyes on the situation, and, if the person stealing their work is tipped off, they might proactively block OP and/or remove posts before they can be verified as stolen. ✧ Do not harass the person who stole the work. It might be coming from a place of wanting to stick up for OP, but it ultimately doesn't help the situation.

OP is experiencing a hate brigade, nasty anons, or trolling over their fic:

PRIORITIZE ACTIONS AND BEHAVIORS THAT KEEP THE FOCUS ON SUPPORT FOR OP ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ Reblog the fic in question with a glowing recommendation or just leave a comment under it expressing your appreciation for it. Both actions will boost the work in question as well as show direct support for OP. ✧ Reach out privately through DMs if you have that sort of relationship, or send a supportive message through asks. Keep it simple and short as they are probably overwhelmed with the shitstorm at certain points. ✧ Speaking up with a supportive comment or post for OP isn't necessarily a bad thing, but arguing back and forth with the trolls/hate brigade/etc. - even if you are doing it with intention to support OP - only fuels the fire, and some of them are doing it for the attention anyway.

OP seems down / isn't motivated to write / is expressing considerations of leaving fic writing altogether because of the current climate on this hellsite:

GIVE THEM THE SPACE OR TIME THEY NEED, BUT ALSO LET THEM KNOW THAT THEY ARE VALUED ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ For the love of god please don't bombard them with asks about when xyz is going to be posted. This is a hobby for them, and they have jobs, families, and other life responsibilities that come first. Many would love nothing more than to sit and write all day, but that just isn't the reality for 99% of fic writers. ✧ Show their older works love, too. Many fic writers take the time to curate an organized masterlist of their works, and many have been writing for a while. There is a trove of wonderful content that can be read or re-read while you patiently wait for your fave to update. ✧ If you're waiting for an update on a specific fic, go back through the older chapters/updates and leave a comment saying you love it so much that you're coming back to visit older chapters while you wait to see what happens next in the story. I guarantee it will give them a boost of motivation for that story in particular. ✧ REBLOG AND COMMENT. Yes, do both of those things. I want you open up a fic you love and scroll down to the bottom where you can see likes, comments, and reblogs. I want you to look at the disparity between likes and comments/reblogs. Clicking a heart button is pretty much zero effort, and it comes across as such to many writers. It's not how Tumblr operates. This is a REBLOG site. That is how things make their way around. That is how posts get engagement. That is how other people can discover the fic writers you enjoy. Look, I even made a meme to show you what it feels like when after hours and hours of writing and editing you finally post a fic and then somebody only hearts it:

Even a simple "I loved this so much and can't wait to read more!" does wonders. A quick reblog that mentions your favorite part in the story is like a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow for writers.

You come across people trashing a writer you like:

CONSIDER IF IT'S HELPFUL OR NOT TO ADDRESS IT ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ People are allowed to have negative/differing opinions about things. If they are expressing their dislike, even in a nasty way, they are allowed to do so. ✧ If it is a genuinely harmful/disparaging conversation, look to see what sort of traction the conversation has. Sometimes it's better to just let something die down before it can even take off. Examples of genuinely harmful/disparaging conversation include but aren't limited to: accusing OP of something egregious without any evidence to support it, framing rumors/gossip they've seen about OP as factual, deeming them criminally or morally corrupt based off a personal opinion they have of OP/their works. ✧ Remember that while serious concerns (like the above point) might be good to share with OP, not every instance of negativity or hate needs to be brought to their attention. If it's just some random jerk on a different platform talking about how much OP's writing is amateur hour, you should probably just leave it be. OP is a person at the end of the day, and sometimes things can be more hurtful than helpful for them to see.

OP isn't acting / responding in a way that you like:

REMIND YOURSELF THAT THEY ARE JUST ANOTHER PERSON IN THE FANDOM AND ARE NOT AN INFLUENCER ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ OP isn't in this fandom to be put on a pedestal (of course there are always exceptions, but I'm not talking about those people) and treated like an influencer. ✧ OP creates works in the fandom because that is how they choose to engage with the fandom. It is one of many ways that people can come together in a community and celebrate an actor/movie/series/etc. ✧ OP is not a content farm. They are writing and sharing because they genuinely enjoy it. They are not being compensated. They are not being endorsed by anybody or any company. They are a normal person trying to take part in a fandom they enjoy. ✧ OP is not obligated to address or comment on a situation, an interaction, discourse, etc. They are not an influencer and aren't equivalent to the parasocial relationships that influencers (aka people who make a living off the internet) have with their followers. OP is not required to "use their platform" for something. It's not a platform. It is OP's personal account where they engage and post in fandom. That is why it exists. OP is not some mega entity that has to speak on something because you demand or expect it.

OP blocked me:

THE CALL IS COMING FROM INSIDE THE HOUSE ════════════════════════════════════════ ✧ Listen, I know it can be hurtful/confusing if you are blocked, especially if it is a writer you really like. I guarantee you that it was not done out of spite and for no reason. ✧ Take a look at the circles you run in, the posts you like, the sort of comments you leave, etc. Many writers are quick to block these days because the climate of this hellsite is very charged and exhausting. If OP sees your username cropping up again and again in fandom drama or you liked a discourse post with a shitty take or your chummy mutual is going off the rails with some bullshit, you might just get caught up in the Block Party. ✧ Don't go through another channel/account to ask why you've been blocked. No, you aren't entitled to a reason. OP is allowed to protect their mental health and peace, and they don't owe anyone an explanation of why and how they choose to curate their experience on this hellsite. ✧ If you believe you were blocked by mistake (which, again, is very unlikely), just take the L, homie. I know that's not what you want to hear, but that's just how it is.

If you took the time to read this, share it, or just in general intend to apply it to your interactions, ✨thank you✨!

Here is a Pedro gif tax for your time and attention. 💜

[wolfiesmoon]

Who is who again?

Riddle, Vil, Idia (seperately) x gn!reader

i was thinking and thinking and then i remembered that basic overdone fanfiction tropes do in fact exist, so here's a silly lil bodyswap fic for the soul

yuu is a little silly prankster goofster who likes messing around and trolling people in this fic, just saying in advance that i did inject a bit of personality in them

also i apologise if the fanfic becomes confusing to read at any point, it's kind of hard writing the reader's actions while in someone else's body, especially when interacting with the person you're swapped with haha

‧₊˚✩彡 Riddle Rosehearts

"Okay, so you're tellin' me that you're Riddle, and you're the Prefect?" Cater pointed to each of you respectively, still trying to grasp the situation. Trey, Ace and Deuce seemed equaly stumped.

"Yep. I'm not exactly sure what happened, but I'm in Riddle's body now." you replied, shrugging casually. "You shouldn't have told them so early on, Riddle, I wanted to mess around a bit."

"Oh, now I'm very glad I told them so early. Knowing you, you'd cause far too much trouble for me to be able to uphold my reputation." Riddle shuddered, imagining the silly pranks you'd pull on everyone while in his body. Well, I suppose they wouldn't be very silly to him.

"Wait. If I'm in your body, does that..."

You quickly took out Riddle's magical pen and pointed it towards Ace, yelling out "Off with your head!"

To your surprise, it actually worked and Ace had a collar around his neck. So you can use magic now.

"HEY! Why did you do that!?" Ace called you out.

"It's revenge for stealing the bit of food I was saving for last on Friday. And also, I needed someone to test out whether I can use magic now." you smirked mischeviously at his annoyance. Now this is fun.

"This still feels unreal. I cannot believe I'm looking at myself talking to someone else. And fooling around like an idiot, too." Riddle did not seem amused.

"Listen, okay, I finally have magic now and I'm gonna take advantage of that. Which means you better run, Cater." you rubbed your hands together evilly.

"What?! Why me?!" Cater was not prepared for this attack.

"Too much magicam. Not enough reality. Collar needed." you explain like a robot overlord and point Riddle's magical pen at Cater.

"Now, now, let's not do that, okay?" Trey gently wrapped his hand around the magical pen in your outstretched hand, smiling at you.

You were about to shake his hand off and proceed with your collaring plan, but you got a better idea.

"No, no, you're right." you shook your head, lowering your hand. Cater breathed a sigh of relief.

"Since I'm Riddle and all, I have to uphold a perfect test score on every test." everyone looked at you, wondering where you were going with this.

"This might be an awkward time to mention that I haven't studied for tommorow's test at all."

"Oh, no. Absolutely not. You are coming with me." Riddle was not about to let his grades slip by such a wide margin. He'll make you memorise things until atleast a 90% is guaranteed, as much as he would hate to get one.

Originally, he was going to try and figure out how to switch you back as soon as possible but that'll have to wait after tommorow it seems.

"WAIT, CAN YOU LIKE, ATLEAST REMOVE THIS COLLAR BEFORE YOU LEAVE?!" Ace yelled behind you but you just whistled innocently, not paying attention to his despair.

.

"That's how the Queen's succesor managed to- are you even listening?"

"You know, it looks kind of funny when I'm being scolded by myself." you yawned, placing your chin on your arms which were currently crossed on the table.

"This is NO laughing matter. My grades are at stake here." Riddle scolded you some more. You nodded sleepily and he took that as a sign to continue.

"So as I was saying- What are you doing now?" Riddle followed your line of sight, his gaze falling on the mirror inside his room. You were looking at him?

"Woah... You're, like, actually pretty cute." you turned back to him, excited at your discovery.

"...What are you blabbering on about? This is NO time to be fooling around, as I have been telling you for the past- Wow, you really are hopeless." Riddle sighed, watching you examine his face in his mirror and still not listening to the magical history lesson.

It does not help at all that you made him lose composure with that "cute" comment.

"Your eyelashes are nice." You comment, smiling at your own reflection.

"What an oddly specific compliment." Still, Riddle felt all weird inside when you said that. This is not fair. Now he can't focus on teaching you anymore.

"It's not oddly specific, really. Guys have really great eyelashes sometimes." You batted your lashes at the mirror and then at him, trying to showcase his charm.

"That is... very strange. Please stop that." Riddle still felt weird about seeing his own face make such silly expressions.

"Hey, if I were in my own body right now I would be swooning over you. Just for your information." You rolled your eyes playfully, entirely insistant on getting out of studying by flustering the hell out of poor Riddle.

"Wha- That's it, off with your-" Riddle reached for the magical pen which would normally be in one's pocket, only to realise that you don't even own one. Of course.

"Oh, Riddle. You silly goose. I'm the one in power here." You intertwined your fingers like a supervillain.

"Please, let's just get back to studying." If Riddle were in his own body right now, his face would be red all over from embarrasment.

"If you insist." You sighed in feigned defeat, your mind already cooking up more plans to embarrass Riddle while you're in his body.

How very fun indeed.

"Why are you smiling at me like that? That kind of smile does not suit my face." Riddle seemed concerned about his body's fate.

"Hmmm, I wonder how many drinks I can order at the Mostro lounge in one sitting." You wondered aloud on purpose.

"What?!"

"What? I didn't even say anything this time." you faked your innocence.

This is going to be a nightmare for Riddle, isn't it?

‧₊˚✩彡 Vil Schoenheit

"Oh. My. God." you lightly slapped your cheeks while looking at yourself in the mirror to make sure this is reality.

Well, you suppose they aren't exactly your cheeks. You're currently inside Vil freaking Schoenheit's body and you have no idea how it happened.

You do suppose all logic kind of gets thrown out the window in a world where magic exists, so swapping bodies with someone might not be that outlandish. Now you wonder if you're the only one who this happened to, and what your body is up to.

Speaking of being Vil Schoenheit now, does that mean you have to uphold his insanely strict daily routine now?

Nah, who are you kidding? You're going to cause as much trouble as you can for this pretty boy. He wakes up much earlier than you thought, so you don't know what to do right now. You walk around his room, inspecting every corner for some prank ammunition.

Rook knocked on the door all of a sudden, telling Vil that he's worried since he's taking longer than usual. You let him into the room.

You decided that you're not going to tell anyone that you're actually not Vil and and act as him for as long as you possibly can.

"Oh, I was just... thinking about something." you grinned evilly at the mirror, before turning back to face Rook.

"Oh my, it seems you were so lost in thought that you've completely forgone doing your hair and makeup. Quite the unpleasant surprise. What troubles you so?" Rook seemed utterly hearbroken.

Wow, he's blunt sometimes. Not that you care about that right now.

"I was just thinking that I'll probably skip all that today. You know, going for a natural look." You twirled a piece of Vil's hair in your hand.

Rook tried convincing you otherwise but you shooed him out, not wanting to hear anything about how 'a natural look also involves doing subtle, light makeup'. You're on a mission here.

Speaking of, you just got a great idea.

You opened his Magicam after getting dressed, briefly gawking at the follower count before clicking on the 'new post' button.

You placed Vil's phone horizontally against your chest, taking an unflattering chin photo and posting it to magicam with the caption "#chinningtime😍😍😍😍", giggling like an idiot all the while.

Within a minute, your post has already gained about 2 thousand likes and loads of very confused (and amused) comments.

What great encouragement to post another one.

You placed the selfie camera of his phone close to your forehead, taking a forehead touch perspective pic. You added the caption "what my kitten sees😈💯🔥" and posted it.

You were laughing your ass off at all the comments when someone knocked at the door. "Roi du Poison, this is an intervention. I am very concerned about you."

Hahahaha, of course he would be one of the first people to worry about you.

Rook joined you once again in your room, explaining how concerned he is about your behavior this morning and how it's very unlike you. I mean, jeez, is Vil allergic to fun or something?

However, Rook wasn't the only one that had concerns with you, it seems.

"Would you care to explain what these are?" you were surprised to hear your own voice, turning your gaze back to the door where you were standing with a very displeased face, holding up your phone with the two selfies you took earlier. It feels dystopian to see yourself standing right in front of you. Out of body experience, for real.

"Wait. Before anything, just who are you?" you wanted to know just who was in your body, though you were already about 90% sure of it.

"Ah, Trickster. What brings you into Pomefiore?" Rook questioned internally how Vil doesn't recognise you.

"For your information, I am Vil. That other person next to you is not Vil. I'd assume you're the prefect, then?" he looked you with authority, leaving no room for stalling or avoiding his question.

"Yeah, yeah. You got me. But like, it's funny, right?" you shrugged, smiling goofily.

Vil dragged you off to the headmage's office, promising to explain things to Rook later and giving a firm scolding to you.

.

"Now that everything is finally sorted and we're excused from class for the day, would care to delete those... unflattering posts, please?" once the two of you were back in Vil's room, he immediately brought up that topic.

By now, they had to have gathered about 70k likes, right? Hehehehe.

"Do not smile at me like that. Or I will take back my phone and delete those horrid photos myself. Do you even realise what a PR nightmare this could be?" he placed his hands on his hips. You feel like you look completely different now that Vil's mannerisms are reflected on your own body. Body language really makes a man, huh?

"Oh, come onnnn, your fans love it. Everyone's laughing and saying how surprising it is to see you post something like this. See, they even got the hashtag #chinningtime trending!" you showed him pictures of his fans taking the same unflattering chin photos.

"What joy does someone derive from selfies as horrible as that? You made me look utterly horrible with those angles." You watched your own face contort with cringe. It's amusing how funny you look.

"People love silly things from time to time. For a celebrity as serious and professional as you, occasional silliness makes you look more relatable to your fans. A celebrity with a good sense of humor is the best kind in my opinion." you gave him a happy thumbs up. It was also for your own amusement, but you really don't feel like getting scolded even more than you have on your way back to the dorm.

"That is... the smartest thing I have ever heard come out of your mouth." He sighed, "I suppose it would cause people to talk about it even more if I deleted them now. But I am still not happy about them."

You ignored the jab at your intelligence, turning around to look at yourself in the mirror. "You know, Vil, you can let loose from time to time. Smile and goof around without worrying what someone might think." your eyes travelled down the sculpted jawline of your new reflection.

"In a way, you're right for suggesting that. But I'm not someone who enjoys your sense of humor or relaxed philosophy to begin with." he was right. He only jokes on occasion and his jokes aren't very goofy.

"You're right..." now that you technically are him, you can see first hand how much he cares about his body. His skin is soft and gleaming, his hair is healthy and shiny and his body is nice to move around in.

"You seem lost in thought. It's unlike you." you looked back at him through the mirror.

"I just thought about how admirable you are. Like, damn, I could nevaaa." Vil inferred you were talking about his strict daily routine. You seem different now. More quiet and thoughtful than usual. And he definitely didn't miss the pink dusting his cheeks on his own face through the mirror's reflection.

"Thank you." 'admirable' is a compliment slightly rarer than the usual ones talking about his beauty.

"By the way, your smile is beautiful. Not the one in all the movies, the one you don't consciously make." you closed your eyes, recalling that exact face of his. Too pretty for his own good, that man.

"Thank... you. You seem in a great mood to compliment me. Surely you don't think this will be enough to make up for the selfies, because it is not." at this point, even Vil didn't know what to think. The smile he doesn't consciously make, huh...

"Nah, those were just random ones I wanted to get off my mind. Oh, by the way, I don't know how to do your makeup look. Care to do it for me, pookie bear?" you sprung up from the chair at the vanity table, already getting excited about messing him up on purpose by opening your eyes when he tells you not to or moving your lips away from the lipstick, making it smudge.

You got way too sentimental for a moment there. And you're sure he noticed.

"Back to your regular self, I see. Fine, I will make myself look beautiful, as always." he smiled confidently. Though he himself has become curious about that side of you now.

Do you really think of him as a victim of your little pranks like everyone else, or are you hiding something else behind your silly smile?

‧₊˚✩彡 Idia Shroud

You were surprised to find a different voice calling out to you in the morning and telling you to wake up, one that sounded more cheerful, peppy, childlike.

And sure enough, it was Ortho's face that greeted you instead of your usual furry friend Grim.

As it turns out, you woke up in Idia's body this morning. What a lovely surprise.

You mean that both sarcastically and in the regular sense.

While you were explaining what was happening to a confused and worried Ortho, Idia's phone started buzzing somewhere in the bed. This dude sleeps with his phone inside his bed? Well, you suppose you have no time for judgement when the phone call might be important.

You rummage through his bed and eventually extract his phone. It was your number calling him.

When you pick up, you hear your own panicked voice on the other end. "U-Um, is this- Are you- How do..."

"Yes, I'm the Prefect. Looks like we switched bodies overnight." you inferred that he wanted to know who exactly just picked up the phone.

"How exactly do you think that happened? I mean, that's NOT normal." your voice on the other end seemed much calmer now.

"Hm, I have no clue, but I do know that I'm going to have loads of fun..." you grinned widely, catching a glimpse of yourself on Idia's dark phone screen and flinching slightly. You're definitely not going to get used to looking like someone else for a while. Especially if your new appearance is as unique as Idia's.

"What do you mean by that? Seriously, wha-" you ended the call before your voice could finish the sentence.

"Hehehehe... I bet he's panicking so hard right now." you giggled to yourself, still feeling a little weird about the fact that it's Idia's voice coming out of your mouth instead of your own.

"Brothe- No, Prefect. Who was that?" it was adorable how worried Ortho was over his brother. Or you, you suppose.

"Oh, don't worry your pretty little head about it..." you patted Ortho's head, hand moving over his flames with interest. "Go ahead and have fun, I'll be here if you need me." you gently shooed Ortho out of Idia's room to execute your master trolling plan.

You sat behind Idia's computer, booting it up. His computer works really fast, which isn't all that surprising considering his skills. He probably built the whole PC from scratch.

Surely, Idia won't mind if you play his games for a bit. You just want to see how far he's gotten. How many items he's saved up.

Hehehe.

You opened up one of the games you've been dabbling in yourself a bit, giggling to yourself about the random anime girl backround.

"Jeez, he's basically pro at this point." you went through his obtained characters and all the stats on most characters were maxed out.

But, since he still hasn't obtained the new character AND he has loads of gems in his inventory, he surely won't mind if you do the work for him, right?

You started pulling for characters in the gacha, waiting for the little indicator that you got a rare character. The flames of your hair flickered more and more with each pull, knowing you were getting closer.

Just when you got the pull animation you were looking for, the door to his room burst open and you saw yourself, all panicked and panting. Took him long enough, jeez.

"Oh, hi, me! I was just pulling for this character on your behalf, and-" you glance at the monitor "Looks like I won the fifty/fifty, hehe~" you acted cute and innocent.

"W-W-WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?! I didn't- I didn't want this character! I was saving up for the re-run, and- Agh!" Idia pushed you away from his keyboard, and he stared at the screen with pure horror in his eyes. You wonder what color his hair would be if he were in his body right now. But as it stands, his flames are flickering happily above your head at a succesful trolling attempt.

"Just buy more gems, bae. Money solves all your problems." you pat his head, kinda cringed out by the way your face can contort when it's making faces candidly. You really look like that when in despair, huh?

Idia ignored the way the casual pet name made him feel. He's supposed to be furious at you right now, not flustered.

"Noooooooo, this is the worst day of my life...." he hid his face in his hands.

"You know what, though? Look at the bright side! I get to figure out how your hair looks when it's wet. I doubt you'd do it yourself and I've been morbidly curious for a while." you patted his shoulder in an overly cheerful manner.

"Wha- Abso-freaking-lutely not. You're a weirdo of the third degree." he crossed his arms, still feeling a bit heartbroken over his videogames being tampered with.

"Is it that weird that I find your hair pretty?" you run your hand through his hair for the thousandth time this morning. It just feels so strange, yet nice under your fingers.

"Finding out if I become bald when my hair gets wet doesn't seem like something a hair admirer would do, but IDK, maybe my definition is different from yours." Idia shrugs, scowl still as big as ever.

"But really, I am an admirer. I kept looking at myself or, well, you in your phone camera this morning because your hair is just so pretty. Watching your hair fluctuate with your emotions is always a fun sight, too. Like damn, your hair is literally on fire, how cool is that?" you explain your thoughts, twirling a piece of his hair in your hand and smiling at it.

"If only I could cuddle up to you and use you like a heater. Too bad your hair's just a normal temperature." Idia's heart almost exploded at the mental image that formed in his head when you said that. And it was even worse because it was coming out of his own mouth.

"T-This is not okay... You can't do this to me...!" he mumbled, not meeting your eyes.

You don't get it, you just dealt 99999 damage to his falling-in-love-resistance shield. Just how do you manage to do that?

"Actually, now that I can look at it up close as much as I want, your face is like, really well proportioned too. Like..." you bit your lip as a joke, wanting to look overly flirty. "That's all I'm gonna say."

Okay, now you've done it. He might just pass out, right now.

[girlcrushart]

Another classic pic from my recent deep dive into Bella Thorne. This is arguably one of the hottest pics ever and very memorable to me. Interestingly, I wasn't aware of the whole story of this pic until I dove into making this poster. It was done for GQ Mexico, and apparently had no re-touching done on it at Bella's request, because in her words: "I specifically asked for no re touching on this photo, and lemme tell you I have insecurities, about pretty much everything. That’s natural & that’s human." And, like, totally cool Bella—and fair point. It's easy to assume someone as hot as her would not have insecurities but of course she does. In her instagram post of the pic she said: "Usually most people don’t want the public trashing [for their imperfections] and I get it, but fuck it I’m here to tell you that’s right I’m not FUCKING PERFECT." And, like... Bella can be feisty and a bit of trouble-maker so it does make you wonder if she's trolling us a bit? Because... to have a picture like this and then state that you're not fucking perfect when there's some very compelling evidence just above that you basically are is... kinda cheeky tbh. I get what she was trying to do, but maybe next time she should choose a pic where she doesn't look like a living goddess to prove her point lol. Today's girlcrushart guardian is Bella Thorne.

[fanficsdumpomg]

Hi! I really liked your NSFW headcanons for the brozone bros. I was wondering if I could request something for Clay and/or Floyd with a reader who's a lot younger than they thought. Like they're in their 30's at least and reader is 23/24. Reader is very mature and put together, so they thought reader was their age, if not older. Really how they would react, if they would tease about it, anything like that. Can be sfw and/or nsfw both are great. And if you're uncomfortable writing this, maybe just boyfriend headcanons for either of them too would be just fine. Thank you <3

Clay:

*(I headcanon Clay was around 16 when Brozone broke up and present time is 15+ years later so i would imagine he would be 36 during the time of Band Together; i headcanon there's an age difference of 10 years between the two of you)

*Clay and you had been dating for a while after meeting each other at Putt-Putt village. You both had met each other while working for Viva; you as an inventor of defense items and clay working administrative duties.

*Clay is already a strict dom in bed; loves to control your orgasms, tie you up, punish you, etc. Basically he loves having any ounce of sexual control over you.

*So, when Clay overhears some Putt-Putt Trolls talk about how someone so young as you could be so talented, his brain first goes into shock; how could he not know this about his partner? But then his brain goes into overdrive and he starts to feel hot thinking of all the ways he could use this against you in bed; so he plans.

*Clay plans a romantic evening for the two of you that ends in passionate kisses, fangs marking each other’s neck and chests and you tied against the bed you share.

*Clay spends the night teasing you in the most deliciously way possible, edging you with a vibrator until you begged to come, gagging you with a ball gag when you get too loud, and breeding you.

*”Dirty Baby…Look at how wet you get for an old man…..god you’re such a slut”.

_____________________________________________________________

Floyd:

(I head canon clay was 13/14 when Brozone broke up and in Band Together i imagine he would be around 33/34 with a 10 year age gap between you too.)

*Floyd and you had been dating for awhile after the two of you met while you opened for one of his solo shows.

*Floyd is a big, big crybaby switch in bed. Loves to get bitten, teased and manhandled by you; (please throw him around he is begging you). 

*He usually doesn’t like to be degraded or degrade you but that all changes after he hears an advertisement for your band; advertising you as the hottest young talent to come to the stage. He feels a  rush of emotions after learning you're younger than him, first embarrassment because how could he not know  this about his partner, then shame… is he a dirty old pervert?!

*Then the shame in a weird way turns him on and you very quickly pick up on it during heated moments between the two of you. After some planning on your part you plan a special intimate evening for the two of you.

*You tie him up during the session, pull his hair, bite him and tease him; but what really surprises him is when you start with the degradation; your refuse to touch him unless he admits that he is a dirty perverted old man. The humiliation/Shame of your degradation immediately turns him rock-hard.

“Fuuuck…yes…I am a dirty old man… please fuck me..do anything!”.

[hufflefluff-stuff]

hi! i was wondering if you could write how HL characters would act when they are jealous

Yes! Also, I'll add how these characters wind up confessing to their crush! 👍

Characters: Sebastian, Garreth, Ominis, Poppy, & Leander

......

Sebastian Sallow

Let's be fr..this guy gets jealous INSANELY easily in canon, even when platonically speaking.

It's hard to pinpoint where he exactly started catching feelings for you, but he certainly fell for you fast after your adventure into the library's restricted section.

Unfortunately, because of your growing reputation as a "hero" around Hogwarts, Hogsmede, and other hamlets...you've have strangers and students alike often come up to you and interrupt your conversations with Sebastian.

They mean well, only showing up to compliment you or thank you for some favor you've done for them.

But still it puts him in an sour mood, especially if he's unable to do anything about it without coming off as a prissy Slytherin.

During classes, he feels 10x worse if he's not partnered with you and instead sees you with classmates he views as "competition"...like Garreth, Leander, or even Amit, scowling at them in envy and unable to focus unless the professor specifically calls him out on it.

The only exception is Ominis, since he's a trusted friend and damn well knew his crush on you (he has certainly used this as blackmail to stop him from doing stupid stuff) but Sebastian will still huff about how "close" you two are growing.

Sometimes his jealousy gets so bad he needs to go blow off some steam in the Undercroft, casting damage spells on whatever poor dummy, pillar, or knight armor happened to be in his way.

It's nothing that Repairo couldn't fix.

While your assistance in his quest to find a cure for Anne was extremely important to him, that's not the only reason he brings you along for the ride.

He genuinely enjoys your company, and it's his chance to actually be alone with you and talk without any rude interruptions.

Well...there's trolls, rankrok's loyalists, spiders, ashwinders, Inferi, etc....but none of them are annoying students who try to hog all your attention just to spite him.

Aside from Ominis, Anne keeps encouraging her twin brother to make some move if he's that jealous (which Sebastian repeatedly denies).

Sooner or later...he may lose that chance, and he fears this. But he never knew when the moment would come..

Then one night, you were both fighting poachers and their leader, an Animagus, insulted him so horribly that it made his confident expression drop for a moment--as did his Protego shield.

You didn't hear what she said exactly, but his devastated face told you enough and you were pissed.

So you rained down a torrent of ancient magic lightning before she can even think of transforming.

Sebastian could only watch as you smite her like some furious god unleashing your wrath on the world, finding you both badass and ethereal.

When it's all over, you rushed to his side and ask if he's okay--but he just kisses you right there and then, silencing you.

He's so sick of waiting.

Garreth Weasley

His jealousy is nowhere near as bad as Sebastian's...but it's still there. Just subtle.

He pouts a lot when somebody steals your attention away, and he tries way too hard to impress you with whatever brilliant potion concept he drafted up (and definitely didn't have approval to brew in class under any circumstances).

Speaking of which, you're his usual partner in potions class, so he'll be highly disappointed if Professor Sharp decides to pair you with somebody else that day.

Garreth feels this sting in his heart if he overhears you praising them for their perfect brew, while he stares into his bubbling cauldron and sulks, wondering what he could've done differently.

He didn't know how you truly felt about him, so he got the genius idea to cook up a love potion the day you had a substitute for class (he sat at the furthest station and had secretly gathered the ingredients beforehand).

Just as you were about to try it for yourself, he accidentally knocked an incompatible ingredient into the pot and caused its contents to explode, staining both of your robes in pink.

While everybody laughed, the sub made the stains vanish with some magic and decided to dismiss class early, making you two stay behind to clean up the mess.

Luckily only house points were deducted due to your actions, so you won't be getting detention for this.

Still...Garreth was quite upset and you could tell.

You reassure him you're not mad in the slightest, and that you knew exactly what he was trying to do (followed by a small wink before continuing your cleanup).

His face turned as red as a maxima potion, and when he returns to the Gryffindor common room for the night, he gets confused stares from his fellow housemates as they wonder what's gotten into him.

But he can't stop thinking about you.

Maybe you ingested droplets of the love potion after it exploded, since you did seem particularly flirtatious with him in that moment and knew his intentions.

Looks like he got his wish after all.

Now to ask you out properly..

Ominis Gaunt

He's not an easily jealous guy. He'll never get angry at other people for simply wanting to spend time with you or if you're partners with them in class.

You've made a name for yourself at Hogwarts, and while he doesn't always agree with the dangerous stuff you get involved with, he only expects people to look up to you and pull your attention away from him.

Though deep down, it kinda hurts...especially since quite a handful of students from other houses perceive him as someone you shouldn't be around (some Gryffindors with "holier than thou" personalities even had the guts to say you're better off without him when he's standing right there).

Being a Gaunt + a Slytherin had that effect, unfortunately...

But he's sick of hearing that all the time.

Anyone else would've snapped at whoever criticized them based on blood status or rudely interrupted a conversation they're clearly having with you.

Yet when he does it..suddenly he's the bad guy?

It never made sense.

So any jealous feelings Ominis has stem from his own insecurities, and they grow even worse the more he realizes he's in love with you..

Like Sebastian, he'd probably storm off to the Undercroft to calm down if he's feeling heavily upset.

Fortunately, you're quick to defend him and decline other people's advances, saying you'd much rather hang out with him.

When you nearly got into a wand duel/fistfight over something insulting they said about him, that's when he realizes you cared about him as more than a friend...

Though he wanted to test the waters, so to speak, before hyping himself up to confess to you.

So throughout the week, Ominis expressed subtle desires to be in closer proximity to you (which you were fine with despite being initially confused at his sudden change in behavior)

These are, but not limited to, linking arms while walking in the hallways, napping beside you while you were reading or petting a random cat, "accidentally" falling asleep on your shoulder in History of Magic, and letting you guide him through assignments in herbology and potions class so he took the correct measurements (his grades improved, which is always a plus).

It takes a little bit of encouragement from Sebastian, but by the week's end, he courts you in one of his favorite spots outside the castle, gathering flowers, candles, and everything.

You truly made him feel loved..and he was going to do his best to reciprocate that.

How he wishes he could see the looks on those Gryffindor preps' faces when they realize the "hero of Hogwarts" is his date.

Poppy Sweeting

Considering how little she spoke to other students, even ones from her own house, this Hufflepuff found it difficult to get close to you at first.

You being hailed as a "hero" made it especially challenging, as you seemed constantly busy and people were bugging you for attention/advice/help....all while Poppy was standing in the background, forcing a smile.

Of course, you always made time to help her rescue beasts. It became your passion, and she was happy about that. Your adventures together allowed you to connect on an emotional level.

The moment she knew she was in love was the night when you both observed a Mooncalf dance, trying to make sense of the pattern those sweet big-eyed creatures left behind.

No matter how many times you've seen them, their dances are spectacular--ever captivating.

But when Poppy asked for your opinion on the pattern she drew out, she stops after seeing your breathtaking smile, eyes practically sparkling in the glow of the moonlight..

And suddenly that's all she could focus on.

Suddenly that was the most beautiful thing in the world.

Since then, her jealousy around other students has increased tenfold...especially when one jerk who disrespected beasts bragged about their poacher parents and invited you to visit their camp.

You've never seen a girl Depulso another student so fast in your life, but Poppy acts like nothing ever happened.

Similar to Sebastian, her jealousy manifests in the form of glares and general scorn towards anyone trying to ask you out on a date (which you, fortunately, decline).

She 100% rambles to the beasts about you.

If Highwing and Lord of the Shore could talk, they'd tell her to just stfu and confess to you already bc the tension is killing them.

It only (finally) happens when you invite her to the Vivarium for the first time, and they both nudge you two together, not backing down until you finally kiss.

If any of yall know that scene in Pokémon Scarlet/Violet where the box legendary pushes Arven towards his friends...that's this exact situation.

Leander Prewett

There's not doubt that this Gryffindor was going to grow jealous of your rising popularity in Summoner's Court and Crossed Wands.

He's a sore loser, while you have generally good sportsmanship..but he secretly appreciates you encouraging him to keep practicing. He only keeps going because of your words alone.

Outside of classes and competitions, he tries to hang out with you but oftentimes your attention goes to other people--whether it's professors keeping you after class to go over extra assignments or a friend sending you an owl with an urgent request.

You don't mean to keep ditching him, but to him it feels like you're always "too busy" for him.

Leander just scowls at the owls while they stare back at him like "hey, don't shoot the messenger".

Yet even when you do manage to spend time together, he only ever asks about your recent escapades....and then refuses to believe them despite you explaining them in great detail.

To this day, he still isn't convinced you possess ancient magic.

But the truth is that he wants to believe you. He admires your bravery and is insanely in love with that aspect of you....though he doesn't know how to express that.

He wishes he can relate and have cool stories to tell, but when people bring up his name they only ever talk about his constant failures.

He doesn't feel any better when others rush to defend your acts of heroism, thinking he's being a jerk.

The truth is you actually loved him and his company despite your frequent banter, but believed him to be way out of your league.

At least until the day Professor Kogawa assigned you to help him after flying class, citing the lack of respect he's been showing to his broom and your good influence on classmates.

He saw this as his chance to impress you...and failed miserably as he was unable to focus and snapped at his broom in frustration, causing it to whack him in the face just as a group of Slytherins passed by.

They laughed and teased him relentlessly, but after scaring them off with a chomping cabbage...you realized Leander had disappeared.

But he didn't go far as you discover him sulking near the lake, hiding himself with the Disillusionment charm (which you cancelled with Revelio).

It's there he finally talks about his true feelings towards you, and you see a more vulnerable side to the typically uptight Gryffindor.

In the end, you decide to give him a chance.

[luveline]

𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐫 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥 | 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

when internet trolls poke fun at your appearance while working on a case, hotch is there to make you feel better. fem!reader, 3k

tw cyberbullying, poor eating habits, criminal minds typical violence

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You're not a media liaison or anything close, but with JJ off for maternity leave and Penelope in Quantico, there's a face needed for the press announcement on TV, and you offer to step in. 

You aren't particularly eager to do it, but Hotch doesn't have the time or wherewithal and such a high intensity case, not while Spencer is at half-mast, migraines rendering him ineffective and stubborn. You're trying to keep the ship sailing smoothly, doing your part of the profiling while juggling media and supporting the police sergeant that's heading the tip line.

You're not expecting to become a joke. After a red-eye, three sleepless nights trying to find a missing woman in Oklahoma —the domestic violence capital— and a full day without something to eat, you're aware you don't look your best, but you aren't sure what that has to do with your missing person. 

The FBI — fugly bitches International. #FindDanaLangley

Damn, are they not letting those agents sleep or what? She looks terrible ! 

she should be less worried about Dana Langley and more concerned with the dead woman in the mirror, ew 

hope theu find her just so they stop putting this creature on TV #FindDanaLangley

"Well," you murmur, wondering if it would be inappropriate to burst into tears, "these aren't especially helpful." 

Derek looks at you, his gaze measured, and you know he's not sure how to react to you or what's happening. He settles on his usual loving encouragement, because he's a very good friend. 

"Don't listen to all that," he says, throwing his arm around your shoulder, "those trolls wouldn't know beautiful if it hit them in the face. But we could always try it?" 

You sink into his hold, needing the reassurance even if you wish you didn't. "No hitting," you say, covering your mouth to hide a large and possibly fugly yawn. Your head is racing with regurgitated insults. "It doesn't matter, Derek. Promise. We have bigger stuff to deal with." 

The door opens and Hotch and Emily step inside, Rossi just behind them. You're thinking Hotch is going to agree with your sentiment, no time for comfort when a woman's life is at stake, so you move away from Morgan to sit in front of your laptop again. 

"Is something wrong?" Hotch asks. 

You meet his eyes just long enough to smile at him. "Nothing. What did Amandla have to say?" 

Emily retells the alibi of Dana's ex-girlfriend and is clearly suspicious but without proof, you're forced as a team to move on to the next lead. Spencer returns shortly afterward and you try to brainstorm your next step. 

It's Penelope that pulls through. "You asked me to cross reference the neighbours at Dana's previous address with people crossing state lines, right, after that one guy ended up being kinda icky? Well I did that, and nothing came up, which was–" 

"Garcia," Hotch interrupts. 

"Right. Long story short, one of the neighbours recently had an extreme falling out with Icky Guy after a years long friendship, his name is Justin Mantova, he has extreme PTSD with documented episodes of confused aggression, and he's been seen coming in and out of a storage unit in Paseo Storage Solutions for the past four days." 

"Address?" Hotch asks. 

"Already sent to your phones." 

"Thank you, Pen," you say. 

"Just go catch the bad guy, pretty girl," she says. 

Ah, so she's seen the tweets too. You frown rather than smile, reminded again of what's been said and wishing you could be anywhere else. 

You get your wish and forget all about personal grievances for a while, concerned with the safe location and extraction of Dana Langley. The operation is clean, and she's hurt but has a great chance at a full recovery. It's quick, it's professional. 

You're falling asleep in the SUV on the way back. Hotch at the wheel, Spencer in the backseat, you rub your eyes from the passenger side and try not to look suspiciously morose, but it's impossible. Hotch is too good at his job. 

"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asks. With Spencer's window open and the wind whipping, it's hard to hear him. 

"Hm?" 

"Is everything okay?" 

"I'm just tired." You don't look at him. It's rude of you, but if what they've said is true —you'd seen the photographs, and you looked tired, sure, but you still looked like you. "Just tired," you say again. You snap your mouth closed when your voice wobbles. 

Hotch is regularly too sweet on you. Most of the team say it's a crush. Emily calls it 'character development. Whatever it is, he's nice to you. He warmed up to you near immediately when you first joined the team, and he's been as welcoming months later as he was in your first week. 

Maybe he feels sorry for me, you think, submerging yourself inch by inch into self pity. 

The three of you regroup with the others at the police station to pen immediate recounts of what happened before you can forget, tying up loose ends. 

Finally you're able to go back to the hotel. Another half an hour and you're in the lobby.

"We'll go home in the morning. Nine AM flight, meet in the lobby at eight thirty," Hotch says. "Get some rest." 

You disband. They've squeezed you in all over the place, and you're lucky enough to be next to the elevator on the second floor. Hotch is the third floor, and everyone else the sixth, so you say goodbye to your colleagues and exit the elevator, stepping onto the second floor with a parting smile.

You can't know it, but Hotch notices the way your smile falls before the doors have well and truly closed. Your shoulders slump in defeat. 

You trudge into your room and don't bother turning on the lights. The door closes behind you and the mask you'd been holding up starts to crack. You put your laptop in the closet despite temptation to boot it up, knowing no good can come of looking at the tip hashtag again. 

You head into the bathroom to pee, and you're confronted with your appearance as you wash your hands. 

You stare at yourself. 

You look tired. 

Tears well as you look at yourself. You're not those things those people said. You're pretty, and when you smile everyone knows it. There's nothing so beautiful as a smile. You can't summon one, but you know it's the truth. 

Or, it should be. 

A single tear falls down your cheek, quickly followed by a second, and a third from the other eye. You ignore them, tracing the line of your bottom lip, the texture of your skin on your cheeks, the slight sunken effect of your under eyes. 

A knock makes you flinch. "Fuck," you say, wiping your cheek with the back of a hand, twisting on the spot like looking into your room might reveal whoever it is at the door. Probably one of your team. "Hello?" you call. 

"It's me. It's Hotch. I know it's after hours, but I wanted to speak with you."

Whatever reassurance he has to give might actually make this all much worse. You don't want any pity from anybody, you just want today to be over. Still, you wiggle your toes into the plush hotel carpeting, debating only for a moment about the pros and cons of pretending to be asleep. 

"Hey," you say, opening the door. You wipe your eyes and hope he takes it for a tired gesture rather than a method of hiding the glassy sheen at your waterline. "Hi, Hotch, how are you feeling?" 

"Fine. Tired. Thank you for asking." 

"Do you want to come in?" you ask. 

"Please." 

Hotch follows you into your room. There's an armchair across from the bed next to a desk and an old TV sitting atop it. Your suitcase is still open on your bed, your pyjamas crumpled in the shell. You close it before Hotch can see. That's another thing to add to your list: being a slob. 

"It's very clean in here," he says. 

You startle. "What?" 

"It's clean, considering how long we've been here. Have you ever seen Spencer's room at the end of a case?" he asks. 

"No, is it bad?" 

"It's like a paper hurricane."

You look down at your knees, hyper aware of his gaze on your face, tired of feeling uneasy in your skin. 

"I wanted to say thank you for doing the press release yesterday. You did an amazing job. It's something to be proud of." 

Of course he's talking about the press release, the one thing you need to not think about. 

"Did Derek tell you?" you ask. 

"Tell me what?" he asks, voice sharpening.

You look up. Hotch is a picture of concern, professionalism slightly off centre. 

"Nothing." 

"Something's been bothering you. Something Derek should've told me, I'm guessing." 

You chew over your words. "Uh. Hotch, it's really nothing, it's a hiccup. The press release, I…" You really don't want to have to say it. The words get stuck at the back of your throat.

He leans forward. "What?" 

"I looked sick. On TV. I looked really unwell, and it– it actually–" Why are you stammering? What's wrong with you? You laugh and it's not your laugh but it's better than your nonsense stuttering. "Sorry. On the press release, I didn't look my best, and it was a hot topic. That's what I thought Derek told you about. But I don't need anyone feeling sorry for me, Hotch." 

"I don't feel sorry for you." 

You wince, "No, of course not." 

"Two seconds," he says, putting his hand forward in the air between you. "A hot topic? I don't understand." He looks genuinely apologetic. 

"The tip line got clogged up with comments about my appearance," you say. You phrase it as a professional error rather than the embarrassing event it represents in your personal life.

His lips curl downward. "Saying you looked tired." 

"Saying I looked unagreeable." 

"As a friend," he says, tone softening, "could you tell me what they said?" 

Heat blooms in your cheeks and behind your eyes, your throat aching as you scratch at a nonexistent itch in the crook of your elbow. "Um. Well, there was a lot of them, and they weren't all about me, but the ones I saw, they seemed to think I needed more sleep. That I–" 

Hitch rarely interrupts, but something in your voice must impel him. "What did they say?" he asks again. 

"That I looked like a creature. That they hoped Miss Langley would be found, so that they didn't have to see my face on TV again. Hotch," you say, your throat sounding as tight as it feels, "it was pretty bad, but it really doesn't matter." 

"I think it matters if it's upset you," he says. 

He has the warmest voice when he wants it to be, so dulcet, almost melodic. You'd think it was a practised phrase, but he speaks freely. 

"It didn't," you lie. 

Pointless in your line of work and automatic anyways. Hotch doesn't deny you the safety of your untruth, but he doesn't entertain it, either. 

"You're beautiful when you're tired," he says. 

You don't mean to, but you hold your breath. The silence that follows his remark is deafening. 

"You're beautiful," he says, again, as though you could've missed it the first time. "Regrettably, you're very tired, but you don't look any less pretty. Don't think what was sent in to the tip line has any merit." 

"Are you saying that as my friend or my boss?" you ask. It's meant to be a joke that lightens the mood. 

"Neither," Hotch says.

You gawp, and then falter. "Why…" 

Hotch is close enough to offer a hand, and you're feeling stupid enough to take it. He squeezes tenderly, looking you straight in the eye. "I'm sorry about what's being said. I had no idea. We can pull the video, and the tipline should stop now Dana's been found, but it doesn't erase what's already happened. I'm so sorry. It's not right, and it's not fair." 

"It's a hard job, right?" you ask.

His hand is so so big, and not as soft as you'd pictured. It doesn't make a difference, not when he's touching you like you might shatter. 

"That's not the job," he says.

"It's silly to care, though. About what other people think." 

"I hope you care about what I think. The merit of an opinion comes from the person, and the relationship you have with them. Anyone who knew you would know that you're beautiful." 

"Inside that counts," you say, not fully comforted, but trying to give him an out. 

"You're beautiful on the outside," he says, giving your hand a small shake. "You're an amazing woman, of course. But I, for one, enjoyed seeing your face on TV."

You try not to smile too hard, directing your gaze at your joined hands lest he get a read on you.

Hotch must know how you feel about him. He'd be an awful profiler if he didn't. You fawn when you're around him even now, months down the line from your very first meeting when you were sure your heart would ricochet from your chest, the intensity of your instant crush like nothing you'd felt, not even as a schoolgirl. He'd been tall, striking, classically handsome and completely unaware of the fact. Now he's sitting across from you and he doesn't seem so tall, nor so striking. His caring side shines like a gem. It's blinding, and it really does make you feel better. 

"I cried in the bathroom," you confess, rubbing your thumb against his in minute, near imperceptible circles. "I wish it didn't matter to me, how I looked. I know I was doing something important, and there wasn't time to freshen up. Maybe I should've just asked somebody else." 

"You did it perfectly. You were perfect. No one else could have delivered the profile to the public that professionally, and that astutely." 

Hotch stands up, and you don't know what to do. You decide to look up at him just as he takes your face into his hands. 

"No crying in bathrooms, okay? It would… it breaks my heart thinking about it. You come to me."  

Such a dramatic statement, yet Hoch lays it out like it's an unquestionable truth. No bravado, only a sincerity that makes your throat hurt. His frown slides back into place as his palms warm your cheeks. 

"You're so busy, I could never," you say, shaking your head. 

"Time and place, sure, but. I will always try to make time for you. I hope you know that by now." 

You nod dazedly. Hotch's hands drag with a pressure down to your neck, your shoulders, leaving tingling skin in their wake. He looks at you and time stretches, a few seconds pulled out of order. It's his closeness, and his affectionate, empathetic smile. 

You nod again. 

He relaxes. 

"Try and get some rest, okay? You need to take care of yourself. I know it's hard to ignore how you feel, I know today was hard, but you're one of the strongest people I've ever met. I have faith in you." He gives your shoulder a final squeeze. "Are you alright?" 

"Yeah," you say. It comes out much more quietly than intended.

"Rest, honey. Call me if you're upset again. I mean it." 

He smooths your cheek with the back of his forefinger and you wonder if this is some weird fantasy. Hotch makes for the door, and you know for sure it's real when he says, "And no more caffeine tonight." 

"No more caffeine," you agree. 

He doesn't realise he's twice as bad as a coffee. Your heart races all by itself, his phantom touch on your cheek. 

—

"Hi, beautiful," Derek says. 

"There's the girl of the hour," Rossi says. 

You roll your arm in a bow, eyes stinging from the bright lobby lights but otherwise quite happy. Hotch called you beautiful last night. Hotch called you honey. People on the Internet who have nothing better to do thought you looked gross, but Hotch thinks you're pretty. It's hard to focus on the negative with a positive that good. 

"Good morning, my favourite boys," you say sweetly. 

Spencer looks up from his book. "Hey." 

"You didn't say hello," you say, "you excluded yourself." 

Spencer frowns and goes back to his book. You offer him a mini cookie from your pocket and he perks up, better when you whisper, "You know you're my favourite, Reid." 

"We all know that's a lie," Emily says, rolling her small suitcase to your left and nearly trampling your foot. 

"Unfortunately so," Rossi agrees. 

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." 

"Hotch looks chipper this morning, doesn't he?" Derek asks, nodding. You follow his nod too quickly and give yourself away, earning a scattered round of laughter from your tired team. "Got you."

"Laugh it up," you say. You're on a high that can't be killed, even with their collective teasing. 

"Why are we laughing?" Hotch asks from behind you. 

You jump half out of your skin. 

"We were laughing at Y/N's swift observational skills, but we spoke too soon," Emily says.

Hotch takes a moment to smile at you. "Hey, you look a little more rested. Feeling better?" 

A flush rises to your cheeks. "Much," you say, sounding foreign to your own ears. 

Hotch gives a pleased nod and clasps your shoulder gently before manoeuvring around you. "Let me go see where JJ is." 

He walks around the lobby corner and into the hotel restaurant. You have your face in your hands before he's gone, harassed by quiet whistles and giggling. 

"She's so embarrassed!" Rossi cheers, like a proud dad. "How hopeless, young love." 

"Someone please shut him up," you beg, rubbing your aching eyes. It's an excuse to hide your smile a moment longer. 

"Are you still tired?" Spencer asks. "You look tired."

"She does not," Derek says severely. 

You raise your head with a smile. Tired or not, Hotch thinks you're beautiful. He liked seeing you on TV. You lavish the memory.

"I'm genuinely exhausted," you say eventually, a smile stretching from cheek to cheek as you stand tall again.

"I want whatever kind of tired you're feeling," JJ says as she arrives, Hotch a step behind her. 

You meet his eyes. You think he might not acknowledge what's been said between you —it wasn't strictly professional to have held your face in his hands like that, after all— and the beginnings of disappointment creep in, until he stands at your side, his fingertips brushing yours. It cannot be accidental. 

"She wears it well, doesn't she?" he asks the group. He gives no time for an answer. "Everyone ready?" 

You practically vibrate your way to the SUV. Not a bad case, as they go. 

 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

thank you for reading, so much! I hope you enjoyed! if you did and you have the time, please consider reblogging cos it makes me happy <3

[hedgehog-moss]

The story of my 3-year-long quest to identify a very rare bird

So I've been trying almost since I moved here to figure out what bird made this strange call that I sometimes heard near my house:

I tried to google "european bird that sounds like a laughing hyena?" and also to imitate the noise over the phone for a friend who once took an online bird course, but she had no idea. (Well, she said "that's a hyena." I said, "but I hear it all the time! Near my house!! Wait I'll do it better." She said, please stop making a hyena noise :(( and I stopped because the cats thought I was losing my mind)

Eventually I managed to record the actual bird call on my phone, and used a Shazam app for birds—but once again, no luck. The first app I tried just assumed it was being trolled and was like "it's you, isn't it? That's not a bird that's your stupid human laugh, you're making fun of me. I'm not an idiot"

The second birdsong app was more insecure and apologised a lot for failing to identify my bird. I thought it must be a rare bird! (The only uncommon bird I know of in this region is the vulture but it sounds less like a hyena and more like if elephants were birds.) Every time I heard the call (usually during the day) I opened the window trying to a) get a better recording so my app would finally have an epiphany, and b) see something flying off a tree.

At one point I was cutting brooms in the pasture and heard the call very loudly, as if the bird was just a few metres away, and it wasn't coming from the sky. I googled every possible version of "flightless (?) bird that nests in thorny bushes?" and found nothing, and started wondering if it was actually a mammal. But I couldn't think of any plausible local mammal that would make this sound—definitely not a fox or badger, who say WAOOHHH, and nothing like the polite whistle of marmots. We've got pine martens in the woods and I found a video called "mating pine marten scream bark" and thought oh!! that must be it! ... but then I listened to it and it sounded like yiiiaaaaaeeeeee, like if you stepped on a baby banshee's toe, nothing at all like the heheeheuruurhh of a hyena who just heard a good joke.

Anyway, this morning I was in the pasture and I once again heard the hyena laugh! I was standing by the moose butler tying up the hay net, away from any trees or shrubs and the call came from just behind me. I turned around thinking there was absolutely no way for the mystery bird to hide, it had landed on the ground behind me and this time I was going to see it!

And

it was HER:

Absolutely no doubt. I saw Pampy's throat vibrating along with the last echoes of the hyena laugh. All these years I've been saying that llamas are very quiet animals who just make cute little "hum-hum" sounds (I rarely hear adult llamas humming to one another, it's mostly for mother llamas to communicate with their baby and with me) and I had no idea that the shrieking hyena-bird I occasionally heard outside my house was Pampelune! I googled "llama alarm cry" and immediately found youtube videos featuring llamas making this exact sound. There was a stray dog nearby this morning that Pandolf eventually chased away, so maybe Pampy was the first to hear him and sounded the alarm. Maybe she uses this cry to tell Pan to go do his guard dog job, because he left the pasture and ran into the woods when she made the sound (while I was turning round like "aha! you can't run, hyena-bird!")

I wanted to share this discovery! I've had llamas for nearly 4 years and I'm only now finding out that they can laugh like hyenas when the situation calls for it. I feel bad for the poor birdsong app that I've repeatedly gaslighted feeding it a llama call and insisting that it identify this bird for me while it hung its head in shame like "I swear I don't have your bird in my database. I'm so sorry. I'm a bad app."

Llamas are fascinating creatures. Please experience their majestic alarm call again, and be alarmed:

[stupidlittlespirit]

Good Boy

Rating: NSFW (very!), mdni Type: Longform Tags: webcam show, voyeurism, sex work, masturbation, female body described, one use of gendered language ('ma'am'), virgin!Reigen, pathetic!Reigen, Word count: 5797 My other works: here on tumblr and here on Ao3! Reigen finds your webcam show and proceeds to be a pervert.

“Should I send my boss a video of what I'm busy doing?” You ask, rocking your ass back and forth. The skirt lifts when you bend down and Reigen catches a peek of your underwear when you lean over a little more. You turn until your back is to the camera and then begin to lift the skirt higher and higher as you dance, tantalisingly slow.

Reigen squeezes the base of his cock and smirks to himself. “I wouldn't bother.”

He finds the video by complete accident.

Reigen is scrolling aimlessly through the feed of his favourite porn sites, rows upon rows of explicit content at his fingertips as he trolls through videos he's seen so many times before he has them practically memorised. They don't do anything for him anymore.

He's bored of the repetitive scenarios and over the top acting, and if he has to watch another shitty, stilted skit again he's going to stop jerking off for the rest of his life in protest.

Well. Maybe he won't go that far, but he's certainly fed up with the lack of excitement.

It's closing in on 1AM on a Friday night and Reigen is spending yet another weekend all on his own. Serizawa is busy with school friends, Dimple isn't in the mood to find a host body for a night out and Mob is likely fast asleep. If he's honest, even Reigen knows how pathetic he'd look if he asked a kid to spend his afterschool time with him.

The only other person he has to ask out is you. You're the newest member of the team and even though you've been out with all of them a fair few times, tonight you'd dismissed his suggestions with the simple excuse of being busy.

You hadn't specified what you were going to be busy with, but Reigen supposes it isn't really any of his business. He can't deny his disappointment, though.

He'd hoped you might jump at the chance for one on one time with him, and whilst he stares at the screen of his computer, desperate for something to make him feel less lonesome, the sting of your rejection is only softened slightly by the alcohol he's had for dinner.

At his feet, there are several cans of chuhai. Every time he drinks alone in his apartment, he finds that he only has two options when no one wants to be around him. One: get so wasted that he passes out before he can think too much about his misery or two: jerk off to prevent himself from thinking about his misery.

Right now, Reigen is reasonably drunk, he's totally lonely, and most of all, he's horny. He supposes he may as well achieve both outcomes at once tonight. He isn't looking for anything in particular right now, just something that might take the edge off and help him sleep a little better. His expectations of finding anything particularly exciting are very low.

However, perched at his PC, shirtless and in his sweatpants, Reigen is starting to think it might be a waste of time. Nothing seems of interest to him. It's either too weird or too boring, and he wonders if he might be better off just calling it a night.

In a last ditch attempt, he switches from his typical porn site to a newer one. One he hasn't tried before. Usually he'd watch something pre-recorded, but he faintly remembers reading something on a forum somewhere about the newest trend of cam girls.

The post had detailed how viewers could make requests for a performer to do whatever they wanted, all live and in real-time, and he has to admit it sounds a lot more interesting than viewing the same video over and over.

He clicks the first link that pops up from his search.

The website is simplistic and once he's clicked through his verifications, Reigen begins to scan the rows of people on offer. There are women and men and everything in between, but every time he selects one, the performer seems bored and uninspired. Sometimes, they're not even there.

Reigen tries the second page. He's halfway down it, not really paying full attention anymore, when abruptly one of the little preview windows looks vaguely familiar.

Squinting, he leans in to get a better view to try and place where he's seen that room before. The decor in the thumbnail looks like a place he's seen before, but he can't quite put his finger on where.

Reigen clicks it and at first, he doesn't quite believe what he's seeing. That decor, the colour of the walls, the furniture…. It's your apartment. He knows because he's been there; he's crashed on that very floor after several messy nights out, right beside the cushy bed that the camera is centered on.

He's absolutely, definitely, a hundred percent sure that that's your room.

For a second, he worries that someone might have snuck into your apartment and hidden a spy camera amongst your things without your knowledge. It's not unheard of for creeps to conceal webcams in places to catch footage of unsuspecting victims and although Reigen likes his fair share of voyeuristic content, he would never watch something that wasn't clearly a purposely set up scenario.

He reaches for his cell phone where it rests besides his keyboard, fully intending to call you and make you aware, when suddenly you're walking into frame and sitting on the bed, dressed only in your underwear, some sheer stockings and a ridiculously tiny little skirt.

You shoot the camera a coy smile and offer a little wave. “Welcome back, everyone.”

Reigen's jaw drops open.

You're on his fucking porn site.

You. Of all people.

Stunned, he watches you shift so that you can lie down on your bed, lounging leisurely on top of a thick, comfy looking blanket that covers your bedspread.

The lighting is low and moody, but there's a clearly a softer source of light emanating from somewhere behind the camera to ensure your half naked body can be seen properly.

Music is playing gently in the background, and beside the bed is a small table, on which rests a small selection of intimidating looking sex toys. There are a couple of interesting looking dildos, a chunky vibrator, and a few bottles of oil or something similar.

He watches you lean forward slightly to apparently read something on screen, your eyes scanning back and forth. Your tits press against the fabric of your bra as you shuffle up where you're resting, leaning forward to fiddle with what he assumes is your computer.

Reigen’s throat suddenly feels very dry.

Barely five hours ago, you'd been wishing him a nice weekend as you'd left the office, heading off for home to spend the weekend doing something that didn't include him. When you'd told him that you'd been too busy to go for a drink with them, he hadn't thought much of it.

Perhaps you'd been lying. Perhaps the real reason you'd said no had been to go and do this....

Briefly, he wonders if he's seeing things. Perhaps the room is simply similar to yours and you're not really you at all. Just another person who looks exceptionally similar.

He decides he needs to make sure that what he's stumbled across is the truth and not an unbelievably accurate illusion.

Reigen reaches for his phone again. Your face is just out of frame now and he can't be 100% sure that it's really you, but he's certain that he needs to find out. To test his theory, he types out a simple text, something casual to ensure that you'll have no idea that he's watching, and waits to see what happens.

[Reigen] - Hey, are you busy?

On screen there's a buzzing sound. You twist into a kneeling position to reach behind you and his blood runs cold. There's no way that it's a coincidence your phone is going off right now.

As he watches you shuffle back up to sit closer to the camera again, your pretty face comes into view and so does your cell phone, head aloft like a trophy. No doubt about it: this is no look alike.

You study your phone, reading the text and then glancing over to look at your audience. "Oh," You say, holding your phone up with a cheeky grin. “It's my boss.”

Underneath the video screen, there's a chatbox that's scrolling along, ticking upwards with each new message that pings through, and you look away from your phone to check it.

Several new chats pop up at your announcement and Reigen somehow manages to tear his eyes away from you to see what's being said.

What does he want? asks one viewer.

You laugh, soft and amused. “He wants to know if I'm busy.”

Your voice is softer than Reigen used to hearing it; teasing and intimate in a way that does something funny to his insides. A few more messages spin up in the chat:

is he cute?

Do you like him?

Would you fuck him?

Reigen swallows hard.

It's not like he hasn't thought about it. He's considered it several times, actually. In great, vivid detail. When he can't find any decent porn to get off too, he often finds thoughts of you wandering into his mind. Reigen knows it’s weird and unethical, but if no one else is aware then it's not like anyone can be hurt by it.

He's harboured a crush on you since the moment you'd walked into the office to drop off your CV and he hasn't known peace since. Every time you bend over to pick up files, he sneaks a peek at your ass. Whenever you brush up against him in passing, he prays he doesn't get hard. It's a nightmare.

When he's alone and he's given up on finding an ethical source of arousal for the evening, he’ll think about you in your office wear, or your underwear, or sometimes in nothing at all.

He's always had to imagine what you might look like naked and for some reason, he's never been able to get the vision to seem quite right. With nothing to reference, it's hard to know beyond the silhouette hidden by your clothes.

Until now, anyway.

You're leaning in close to look at the chat messages again, your tits pressed up against the thin fabric of your bra. They jiggle nicely as you move and Reigen feels his cock stir in his sweatpants. He reaches for the half-empty can of chuhai beside his PC and takes a swig to soothe his dry mouth.

“Oh yeah,” you say, biting down your lower lip. “Very cute. I'd fuck him anytime.”

Reigen almost chokes on his mouthful of fruity alcohol, spluttering awkwardly.

You begin to run your fingers up between the valley of your breasts, reaching over to toy with the lace cups of your bra and dipping your fingertips underneath the material to brush against your nipples.

“He's got such a great ass,” you whisper to the camera, biting down on your lip to stifle a smile. “I check him out all the time but he never catches me. What do you think he'd do if he did?”

Reigen's breath hitches. His face feels red hot at your confession and he knows that he's probably bright red, but can't believe what he's hearing.

The chat bumps up several rows, filled with suggestions and fantasies:

He'd punish you.

Probably promote you lol.

I bet he'd fuck you in the office.

“He would,” Reigen groans out loud to his empty room. “You have no idea how much he would.”

He's had plenty of daydreams about that exact scenario; bending you over his desk when everyone else has gone home for the day or letting you ride him while he sits in his office chair, slow and sweet until he fills you up. The thought drives him insane.

Almost of its own accord, his hand slips down to palm at his dick. There's a steadily growing wet patch on the front of his pants as pre cum begins to gather at the head and the slick friction of the fabric there only arouses him more.

“Ah,” you gasp happily as you pinch one of your nipples. “I wish.”

After a few seconds of touching your tits, you trace your hand up towards your collarbone and run your fingertips along them, back and forth slowly. It's teasing, erotic almost, and Reigen imagines your delicate fingers on his own skin, tickling along the soft flesh of his thighs or clutching at his back.

He's still reeling at your admitted attraction to him. He knows there's a chance that you're only playing things up for the camera, but he's so hard and so turned on by the notion that you might be into him that he doesn't care how true it is right now.

Rather than worry too much about the legitimacy, he hooks his thumb into the waistband of his sweats without looking away from the screen and shuffles in his seat so that he can expose his cock fully.

He knows he shouldn't really be watching this. He isn't even sure why you're on this website; he pays much more than he used to and there's no way you're short for cash, so you're not moonlighting to make ends meet. Maybe you just enjoy it?

The idea thrills him and so does the knowledge that what he's doing is forbidden. Again, he supposes that if you have no clue that he's watching you right now then he can excuse his actions…. Right?

“It's so unprofessional,” You're almost whispering now, talking softly as your touch travels to different parts of your body. “But I think about it all the time.”

Reigen reaches for the small bottle of lube that sits in the corner of his desk while you talk, squeezing some out onto the fingers of one hand. He trails it around his dick slowly, ignoring the chill and covering himself until the skin is slick and wet.

The chat pings again, except this time there's the sound of coins dropping. A pink message appears:

[400 coins] Ass shake/Dance

Briefly, Reigen is confused. He has no idea what that means and his hand pauses to check the message. Next to it is a little cartoon coin, and he realises that you've been tipped money to do an activity.

You smile brightly, however, clearly pleased by the strange sound, and slowly you get up from your seat. “Thank you so much!” You giggle, blowing a kiss to the camera.

He watches you stand and fiddle with something that looks like a TV remote, and then the quiet music in the background becomes a little louder. You begin to sway your hips in time with the beat of the music, turning on the spot slowly.

“Should I send my boss a video of what I'm busy doing?” You ask, rocking your ass back and forth.

The skirt lifts when you bend down and Reigen catches a peek of your underwear when you lean over a little more. You turn until your back is to the camera and then begin to lift the skirt higher and higher as you dance, tantalisingly slow.

Reigen squeezes the base of his cock and smirks to himself. “I wouldn't bother.”

Your skirt recedes to reveal the bare skin of your ass. You're wearing lacy underwear that barely covers your pussy and Reigen groans at the sight, watching closely as you wiggle your hips until the fat of your ass wobbles deliciously.

He barely gets ten seconds worth of a look before you're moving back to sit on your bed, and he can't help the disappointment that rises in him.

With his free hand, Reigen takes a chance and bravely types out a message in chat:

[anon] - keep going

“Ah ahh,” you chastise, clearly reading the command he's sent through. “Tip to make requests, boys, you know the rules.”

Reigen isn’t sure what he's more turned on by; the business sense or your bossy attitude.

One handed, he swiftly clicks through on the link that auto generates in chat to make an account. He spares a thanks that modern technology allows him to keep his credit card info saved online and as soon as everything has gone through, he comes right back to your room.

The chat spits out a menu, triggered by the forbidden request, that clearly states an extensive menu of services. There are lots of options, and Reigen's mouth begins to salivate as he scrolls down the list. Whilst he's busy reading, another tip comes in from a different user:

[800 coins] - topless

“Oh,” you say, grinning as you reach for your bra straps. “Stepping things up, huh?”

Your comment makes Reigen look up again and his stomach flips when he realises what's about to happen.

Teasing, you thumb down each strap, letting them fall down to your sides. You reach behind yourself to undo the clasp and very gradually, you lower the pretty lingerie until finally, the lace falls away to expose your chest to the camera.

Reigen stares at the screen, mouth open, and his hand begins to stroke his cock. He's imagined seeing your naked chest more times than he can recall but his mind's eye is nothing in comparison to the real (or rather, virtual) thing. They're gorgeous. Perfect, in fact. He's not sure that he's ever seen anything better.

Embarrassed as he is to admit, Reigen has never actually seen anyone naked in real life. He's never even fucked another person, but he's seen his fair share of porn and none of those videos compare to you.

Every fantasy he's ever had has been completely imaginary and he doesn't dare make a move to find sex in real life; being an adult virgin is horribly embarrassing and he doesn't want to risk being laughed at. For now, he'll stick to his usual viewing habits.

“Fuck.” Reigen mutters, breath hitching. His hand works the length of his cock, fist tight and slick with lube, and on screen you're reaching up to play with your nipples again.

Enraptured by your image, he tightens his grip on the bottom of his dick every time you pinch yourself gently.

You take both tits in hand and squeeze them together, biting your lower lip and grinning as chat messages pour through. It's evident that you're enjoying yourself and it makes Reigen feel slightly less guilty for being a pervert.

The languid strokes of his cock become even slower while he types out the message he'd intended to send before, heart pounding in anticipation:

[950 coins] - remove skirt/underwear

The jingle of the tip plays and your eyes light up. “Oh,” you say, leaning forward to check the request. “You're new here.”

Momentarily, Reigen's hand pauses. His username is just a randomly generated set of numbers. There's no way you'd be able to tell his true identity from, yet he briefly panics that you might have rumbled him. He holds his breath for a second.

You nibble your lower lip and smile, but his cover isn't blown. “You guys are excited today, hm?” You laugh, getting up again and shifting the camera to ensure everyone can see what you're doing.

Carefully, you make a show of lifting up your skirt and undoing the side clasp before letting it fall to the floor with a soft thump. The panties you're wearing are tiny, yet they cover you well enough that it's hard to see much just yet. You give your ass a little shake again and bend over, spreading your legs.

Relieved, Reigen's hand begins to move again and without looking away, he shirks his sweatpants completely. His body feels hot all over and being constrained by his clothing feels unbearably uncomfortable. He kicks the trousers away from him and grins at your excited laughter.

“How's the view?” You ask, squeezing your ass gently.

“Perfect,” Reigen grunts, as though you can hear him.

You're reaching between your legs now, stroking your covered pussy up and down, and Reigen moans quietly. Chat messages are stacking up below your video screen, but he only has eyes for you right now.

Deliberately unhurried, you drag your hand back through your legs and take hold of the waistband of your panties. You pull the fabric down, down, down, slipping it over your round ass until finally you're baring yourself to the world in the most intimate way.

Wetness clings to your underwear when you tug it away and you're visibly aroused by the movement, making a soft sound of pleasure.

Reigen almost cums immediately. He grits his teeth and exhales sharply, letting go of his cock and willing himself not to finish early. It would be a shame to spend himself so soon and he wants nothing more than to spend all night staring into you.

“Like that?” You ask your audience, voice a little muffled now that you're turned away.

Several messages affirm that they do, in fact, like what they're seeing.

Reigen breathes heavily through his nose and rolls his chair closer to the monitor again. He takes a second to calm himself down, though he doesn't stop watching you wiggle your backside, and once he feels capable, he types out another request:

[1000 coins] - touch yourself

This time, he follows it up with a ‘please’ and you turn slightly to see what's happening.

You smirk and move back toward the bed, choosing to sit down and spread your legs this time. The view is still perfectly clear and Reigen finds that he likes this much better; he can see your pretty face, your tits and your wet pussy all at once. Hand firm on his dick, he starts to jerk off again.

“Do you like what you see?” You giggle, hand wandering southwards.

“Fuck, yeah I do.” Reigen groans, swiping his thumb over the head. The motion sends a shiver through his body and he fumbles with his free hand and keyboard to type out an affirmative answer.

You smile, coy, and stop your fingers just above your clit. “And what do we say when we want something?”

Reigen swears under his breath. He likes this; being forced to ask nicely and hope that he's given what he wants. He doesn't know why he enjoys it, but the idea of having to plead for your attention and his own release does something undeniable to his body, and he loves every second.

The flush on his face travels down his neck and burns the tips of his ears, spurred on by his myriad of emotions.

With one sweaty hand he types out:

please

touch yourself, please

The smile that comes to your face when you notice his message is positively wicked and your hand drops lower, gathering wetness. “I think you can ask even more nicely than that, can't you?”

He doesn't care that he's paid for a simple act. What he's getting right now is more arousing than anything he could have ever dreamt of receiving. The way his cock twitches in his hand suggests his body agrees. “Please.” Reigen whispers to his empty room, voice breaking. “Fuck, please, touch your fucking pussy for me.”

Panting and moaning with every stroke of his fist, Reigen shakily taps out another desperate response.

plsaase

pls

im begging u

It's obviously the right response because you do exactly as he asks: your fingers begin to brush over your clit and you gasp at the contact. Gently, you rub yourself in tiny circles. Your skin glistens in the light and even with the music playing, he can hear your moans and sighs when your touches speed up.

Reigen jerks himself off in time with your movements. His apartment fills with the wet, oily noises of his lubed up palm on his dick and his heavy breathing, broken only by his pathetic begging for more. “Oh god,” he whines, leaning forward in his seat to grip the edge of his desk. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

He wants to ask for more, to see you get even more explicit, however he worries that if he lets go of his desk he might keel over. Fortunately for Reigen, another request pings in. This one goes even further.

The anonymous user tips a significant amount and much to Reigen's horny delight, asks you to use one of the larger sex toys on the table next to your bed.

A few minutes pass in which you continue to touch your clit and Reigen realises that you're getting caught up in this yourself. You're so lost in your own pleasure that you're too busy to see what your audience want.

It turns him on no end.

Eventually, you force yourself to pause and glance at the chat. There are a few annoyed messages about you ignoring them, but you pay them no mind, instead saying a breathless thank you to the new requester and reaching for a sizable, pink dildo. It's thick and decently long, and you hold it out for him to see properly.

“Should I use this one?” Your voice is fraying at the edges, strained from all your noise.

Oh yeah

Fuck yeah use it

Do it

You don't appear to need much encouragement and you sit back on your elbows, legs spreading even wider as you rub the head of the fake cock over your pussy.

Reigen imagines that instead of cool, false plastic, it's his dick that you're grinding your hips into. He pictures himself between your legs, gently slapping the swollen tip of his cock against the soft, wet folds of your cunt whilst you squirm and groan in pleasure. His moans are getting louder now, unrestrained and wrecked, and he knows he sounds like a girl but he can't find it in himself to give a fuck.

Again, he almost cums, but rather than let it happen he allows himself to get as close as he dares and then stops touching completely. He has plenty of time to draw this out; you haven't even put the dildo in yet.

You're still circling it around your hole slowly, grinning and chewing on your lip in anticipation of what's to, rather ironically, come.

Sweat trickles down Reigen's neck. He's over stimulated and unbearably turned on, body red hot and flushed. He reaches for his drink again and takes a quick gulp before picking right up where he left off.

“Wanna see me fuck myself?” You tease, peering at the message box.

Reigen is the only one who responds. He knows it's likely because every other person in here is too busy getting off to answer, yet he seizes the chance to catch your attention.

yes please

Your warm smile returns and he finds himself smiling too, enjoying the way your expression softens. “You're a sweetheart, aren't you?” You say fondly, sitting up a bit more.

Reigen grins and nods, even though he knows you can't see him. He dials up his politeness, practically gagging for your attention, and moves his hand down to stroke along the sides of his dick, teasing himself as he type:.

yes ma'am

Something changes in your gaze at his message, hot and intense, and you start to circle your clit again. “Ask me again.” You sigh happily. “Be a good boy.”

Reigen's brain almost short circuits at your comment. He moans again and tips his head back, hand working hard between his legs. “Oh, my god.” He chokes out, scrambling to answer via his keyboard. “Fuck, that's- say that again.”

please ma'am

pls fuck urself

ill do anything i swear

just call me that again

You're clearly entertained by his request. Even more so, you appear to be turned on by it. Slow and steady, you ease the dildo into yourself, keening loudly at the sensation yet still managing to fulfill Reigen's request.

“Good boy,” you breathe, smiling wide. “You're such a good boy for me.”

Reigen makes a humiliating noise. It's a mix of a moan and a sob, and he stops jerking his cock in favour of fucking his own hand instead. His hips buck forward wildly, uncontrollable and desperate, and he attempts to match the tempo in which you fuck yourself.

He watches in awe as you drive the dildo into your cunt, arousal dripping down the length of it and leaving it shiny and slick.

“Oh, fuck,” Reigen chokes out breathlessly, grinding into his fist like he's fucking you himself. “Don't stop, fuck, don't stop.”

His moans mix with yours on screen and if he could bear to close his eyes, he might imagine that this is what it feels like to be inside you. As it is, he can't bear to look anywhere but at you.

Your hand is moving quickly now, pumping the toy in and out while you rub your clit just as fast, crying out in pleasure.

Reigen's girly moans pick up in pitch and he begs you with everything he has: “Keep going, please, I-ha! You feel so good, so good, fuck!”

As though you can hear his pleas, you don't relent your movements. Your tits bounce with the force that you're fucking yourself with and you groan every time you hit a good spot.

It's obvious that you're no longer playing along with whatever your audience wants; You're lost in the sensation and Reigen is completely beside himself, right there with you.

His chair rocks and creaks underneath his moving weight and he scrunches up his bare toes against the wooden flooring to stay put, listening to you as you continue to encourage him.

“You're my good boy, aren't you?” You pant, eyes closed. “Touching yourself just like I asked….”

“Yeah,” Reigen whimpers. “I swear, just for you, whatever you want.”

“Fuck,” you sigh on screen, angling the toy. “Fuck.”

Reigen can barely breathe. He's sweating profusely, rivulets trickling down his brow and blurring his vision, and he can feel something tight and white hot coiling in his lower belly.

The pressure is building slowly, growing with every pass of his fist and every moan you make on his monitor, and his ability to speak unravels. He's babbling about anything and everything, eyes darting from your pussy to your face, and the feeling in his belly spikes.

“Oh, god, oh fuck,” he whines, long and low. “I'm gonna cum, I'm- please, let me cum!” His pathetic moans hitch and in their lull, he hears you speak a single word that sends him crashing over the edge:

“Reigen!”

You cry his name quietly, sweeter than a prayer, and shudder as you climax with him.

Unable to stop it, Reigen's orgasm hits him so hard he almost blacks out for a moment. He cums hard, spilling all over his fist and stomach, his toes curling and body convulsing with intense pleasure. He ducks his head and shouts something unintelligible, drool dripping down from his open mouth to mix with the mess on his hand.

The aftershock of his orgasm has him spasming in its wake, muscles twitching and cramping as he heaves for breath. Reigen releases his cock and slumps back in his chair, panting hard like he's run a marathon.

He's fairly confident that it might be the best orgasm he's ever had.

On screen, the music has stopped and there's only the sound of your laboured breathing filling the silence. You're panting hard, pussy spread by your toy, and you look wrecked. Your hair is a mess, your eyes are half-lidded, and underneath you the blanket is soaked.

Reigen wipes the sweat from his forehead with his clean hand and takes a few minutes to gather his bearings. He sees you remove the toy slowly and place it back on the bedside table before you sit back down, cross legged, on the bed. You avoid the wet patch, wrinkling your nose and flipping the blanket over to prevent yourself from sitting on it, and you pause to catch your breath. Your chest rises and falls rapidly for a minute, and he watches you catch your breath.

Clearly you're a seasoned professional however, because you go back to checking your chat messages only minutes later. Every user in the room is overjoyed with your performance and Reigen has to agree. He's never seen a porno anywhere near as sexy as what he just witnessed and he's not sure he ever will.

Reigen reaches over for the box of tissues next to his computer and carefully wipes up the mess on his hand. There's cum on the floor too and when he's confident that his jelly-like legs won't let him fall off the chair, he leans down to clean it up.

Once everything is less sticky, Reigen checks the chat. There are a good few messages pinging up and they make him smile, big and stupid, and more than a little smug:

Who is Reigen?

Fuck, he's a lucky guy

Wish I was him

Listening to you moan his name, watching your face whilst you'd fucked yourself silly, it's all imprinted on his brain forever.

He's still reeling over the fact that it was his name on your lips as you came. You've never shown interest in him like that, at least not to his knowledge, and if you've been getting yourself off to the thought of him anywhere near as much as he has to you, Reigen wonders if it might be worth catching a few more of these streams until he can find the courage to see if you might want to to go out sometime.

You're putting your lingerie back on when he looks back up to you again. There's a glow to you that only appears after a good fucking and Reigen's stomach summersaults. He knows that the small crush he has on you is going to snowball dramatically now.

He won't be able to look you in the eye again without thinking of the sounds you've made tonight. That being said, he’ll worry about how to deal with the awkwardness and the shame of spying on his subordinate once he's sober tomorrow morning. For now, he’ll enjoy the rest of his evening watching you.

You don't acknowledge the chat’s questions about who you're thinking of in your intimate throes, instead choosing to finish getting dressed and then grabbing your phone from where it sits at the end of your bed.

“Now I really should reply to my boss,” you tell the chat, leaning across the gap to click something with your mouse. “One second.”

The stream mutes and your fingers move back and forth over the phone keypad quickly. There's silence, and then Reigen's cell vibrates loudly. It scares the shit out of him and he snatches it up, staring at the screen.

Sorry. I was playing online. Maybe we can hang out tomorrow?

Reigen grins and fires back the smartest reply he can think of.

[Reigen] - Don't wear yourself out ;)

On his monitor, he sees you laugh silently, head tipped back and smiling wide, and his heart skips a beat.

Tomorrow it is.

[pressureplus]

I need that for my comfort!🥺✨ Trans boy reader who started to have dysphoria because his hair a getting to long for his comfort. So he ask to Sebastian to help him cut them shorter, which Sebastian hesitantly agreed. Might not be the best since it’s was cut with some scissors and also because Sebastian never cut hair before. But reader is still happy with the result lol.

This is so cute

Hair and Care 101

Pairings: Sebastian Solace X TransMasc!Reader

Au: Classic

Warnings: Mentions of Gender Dysphoria

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

“And you're sure you want me to cut it? You won't do it yourself?”

“I can't exactly see the back of my head, so yes.” You sit on a stool, hands knitted together in anxiety. You'd asked Sebastian if he would be willing to cut your hair for you today. It had been, admittedly, a bit awkward to ask. He’d been flipping through files and restocking the supplies on his tail when you'd stepped into his shop. Your long hair getting in your eyes and somewhat fanning out nearly down to your hips. You hadn't had the opportunity to get it cut in so long it made your skin crawl. You felt…feminine. Way too feminine. You can't remember the last time you let your hair grow out this long and its made it really, really hard to focus on anything else. Its not just because it gets in your eyes and you can't for the life of you find a hairtie. Its deeper than that. You've started to almost flinch away from your reflections in the water and windows.

You've started to grab at your hips, at your face, poking and prodding and wondering if you can even pass with long hair. You haven't met another person besides Sebastian and the idea of being unable to see yourself the way you should. The way you know in your heart to be right. It makes you uncomfortable. You can only pinch and poke and prod for so long before your skin gets irritated. Right now, sat here, waiting for Sebastian to cut your hair? This was like your skin getting irritated. You had to debate if you were willing to even let another person cut your hair. What if they butchered it? What if it made you look worse than before? What if he fucked it up so bad you looked like one of those weird troll dolls but worse somehow? It had been your biggest worry for quite some time, until your hair got long enough that you couldn't stand it anymore.

“I feel like I should make you sign a waiver.”

“Sebastian, Im serious. Please, just cut it, I don't care if it's the worst thing ever. I can't keep walking around like this.”

“You understand my hands are too big to fit these scissors properly, right?”

“Doesnt matter, just get it done.” He sighs and grabs a collection of your long locks, specifically the one around your face. He straightens the hair to the best of his abilities using a hand so he can make the cleanest cuts he can.

“Why does this matter so much to you? Shouldn't you be, I don't know, focused on surviving? I mean paying me for a haircut seems a bit much.”

“Its…complicated.”

“How complicated can it really be?” He hums as he continues to make cuts, the sound of scissors through hair joining the sound of dripping water and Sebastian's voice. Would he even be cool about something like this? He doesn't particularly like anyone, and he's not really friendly with you either. Would he use it against you somehow? Would he get aggressive about it?

“I just feel kind of…feminine, and it makes me uncomfortable.” You mutter and this only gets a chuckle, sounding condescending.

“Oh, Expendable, long hair doesn't make you any less of a man. Don't be ridiculous.”

“I just don't like it.”

“Look, all I'm saying is, you could have bought a medkit instead of a haircut. If its this important than fine. Who am I to tell you how to spend your collected data?”

“Whether it makes me more of a man or not, is it wrong of me to not like feeling…” You trail off, and all at once, Sebastian tenses mid cut.

“Oh…thats what this is about.” His tone softens up a bit, the mild poking he had been doing immediately being cut out as he carries on cutting your hair.

“This isn't too stupid of a purchase, I guess.” He adds on.

“Yeah?” You ask as he finishes up, putting the scissors to the side and ruffling your hair to get any loose strands out.

“Yeah. Go take a look,” he motions towards the water so you can see yourself in the reflection. You peer down into it curiously and immediately your shoulders relax. You hadn't even realized you'd been tense. Your hairs a bit choppy, admittedly, but its not ugly or particularly butchered by any means. He was oddly thoughtful and careful about taking care of your hair for you. Even saying it was ridiculous to spend your data on, he didn't ruin it for you on purpose.

“Its good, you did a good job.”

“Yeah, well, I'm sure if you keep coming to me I'll get better every time.”

“Im sure you will, then.” You give him a smile and he kind of awkwardly smiles back for a moment. A bit of hesitation as you grab the keycard off his desk and put your swimming gear back on now that its dry.

“Wait.”

“Ah- Yes Sebastian?” You turn, concerned about what he might say. He's not stupid and you're certain he's figured you out by now. If he doesn't like it, there's nothing he can do about it sure but you always tense when people get all awkward around you. He hesitates a moment longer before giving you a little wave.

“You look better with short hair anyway.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I do…now go on and get out of here. I've got other Expendables to deal with and a mess of hair to clean.”

[bitletsanddrabbles]

Okay, I lied. One last post before I take that much needed mental health break.

A post that I always swore - back before you could turn off reblogs and mute comments and basically make the lives of would be trolls very pointless, because you will never see what they say - I would never be stupid enough to make.

I leave you with my essay on…

Why Sparkly Vampires Make Perfect Sense, Stephanie Meyer Just Went About It All Wrong

Let's face it, humans don't always know what we're looking at. As an example, I was reading a book about poison use in royal courts. In the section on cures, in the subsection on unicorn horn (alicorn, for the technical term), it mentioned how the people who procured this rare substance were somewhat baffled by the fact that at the end of their lives the unicorn (which lived in such places as Africa, Persia, India, etc.) would migrate to the far north to die on the beaches of the arctic sea. Now, in their defense, it's very unlikely that any of these individuals would be well traveled enough to have even the opportunity to see both a live unicorn and a dead one. If they had, they might have had an easier time realizing 'these are two different animals!'. But the point still stands.

Humans don't always know what we're looking at.

Now, if you go through folk lore and mythology, you will, of course, find horrible blood sucking fiends that drain innocents of their life. Vampires. You will also find lots of entities which emit an ethereal luminescence or radiant glow, entities which possess powers beyond mortal understanding, who can be benign or terrible, and who are known to abscond with humans, although we're certain these humans are safe and happy on Olympus or under the green hill, not dead like they'd be with those blood suckers.

No one who had not seen both Apollo, God of the Sun, and the horrible vampire who chowed down on the neighbor two doors down would realize: they're the same entity.

To make it even harder for the poor mortals (and easier for the vampires!), vampires look different in different lighting conditions. After all, something that sparkles in the sunlight will also sparkle in the moonlight, the firelight, etc., it's just a matter of degrees. So some vampires would hang out in moonlit glens, for that 'fairy of the moonlight' feel, while others would set themselves up in temples with a many fires as they could manage. I mean, if you're going to call yourself Apollo, God of the Sun, you had better be all sparkle all of the time! Top all of this off with mind reading ability that lets traveling vampires fit into the local not-vampire-vampire mythos and yeah, the humans don't stand a chance.

It's great! Things are wonderful! Even if someone does see you devour a hapless victim and run screaming 'vampire' in the town, you can always just eat them next. No big deal. Only the stupid and careless are in real danger.

And then…

CALAMITY!

The head of the Roman Empire, that militant mass of well armed testosterone (and a bunch of less important people), converts to Christianity and proclaims there's only one god who is…not you.

Well shit.

Of course, if you're a lesser known vampire you can pass yourself off as an "Angel of the Lord" in a quick pinch, as long as you're talking to a peasant who's too illiterate to realize you're lacking in the eye and wing department (good news - this is most everyone), but you can't do that too often. And if everyone knows you as Apollo, God of the Sun?

Sucks to be you. You now have a bunch of very militant fundamentalists armed with sharp, pointy implements of destruction chasing after you with cries of 'demon' and 'false god'. Even with your supernatural speed, getting away from them is made far more difficult by the fact they can see you glittering from the other side of the market.

This is where vampires went nocturnal, since moonlight is less sparkle inducing than the sun. Then, since even that gets risky, they slowly moved into caves and cemeteries and the occasional creepy old castle that no sane person would enter without an explicit invitation to dinner, or for a real estate job. Something like that.

The next millennium was pretty dire. The millennium after that was…okay, also pretty dire, until suddenly, at the end of the twentieth century, a miracle! A remarkable shift brought about a change that would once again free vampires from their castles and cemeteries and allow them to walk safely among humans!

But they wouldn't go creeping off to the sun starved, water logged boonies of the Olympic rain forest. Oh hell no! They would go to the cities, to Soho, to Broadway, to places where they could strut proudly down the street to the envious stares of mortals and cries of "Damn, I wish I looked that good in body glitter!"

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🎲🖤 Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes 🎲🖤

Writing a little fic about the reader joining Hellfire after being kicked out of the original D&D group she's in, for reasons *cough (sexist arseholes)* and Eddie is literally in love with this feisty lady who interrupts the latest Hellfire campaign and asks to join the group, who's planned campaigns involving Vecna and has no trouble arguing with him if he's being a dick. (The latter might be in part two if people are interested)

Vecna who's Vecna? Eddie is alive and thriving in this fic. Also, I'm not 100% well-versed in D&D but I am learning, if I do part two I hope to include more into the plot.

The title is lyrics from Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift 💞

💞

"You can't just kick me out of the group," you say fuming as Ethan looks at you with pity.

"I'm the Dungeon Master so technically I can, the guys just think that you take playing a little less seriously than the rest of us" he lies straight to your face and the anger that is bubbling up inside of you threatens to explode.

"What! I literally built the last three campaigns because you couldn't come up with anything, I came up with the plan to defeat Vecna and...you glare at him, this is what it's about isn't it. You hate that I can come up with the ideas for campaigns and because I'm good at the game. Of all the idiotic, sexist bullshit...

Ethan blushes. "Look, I want to see if Eddie would let me and the guys join Hellfire and maybe he might let me DM sometimes but if he finds out that you helped make up most of them well...

So you're kicking me out to save yourself the apparent humiliation of a girl being better at D&D than you are" he flushes pink and glares at you.

"Whatever. We'll be fine without you. Good riddance" he storms off by that point leaving you alone and tearful. You're just so pissed that you have to leave the group, leave something you love playing.

There's a gentle pressure on your shoulder and you find Robin looking at you concerned. "What was that about? Did he do something to hurt you? I could ask Steve to kick his ass, unless you want to kick his ass yourself which is great and all and...

She stops talking when she sees one silent tear run down your cheek which you wipe away furiously, nope you will not cry because of that gargoyle Ethan.

"Robin breathe, and yeah I'm okay. I mean I will be" you explain everything that happened and by the end Robin is as angry as you are.

"He can't just kick you out, what a douchebag, how exactly is he going to explain away the fact he has no amazing ideas for campaigns without you there?

You should talk to Eddie and join Hellfire yourself, he's actually a nice guy well according to the Steve's child/brother friend. The dingus is jealous of Eddie which is kind of sweet and hilarious..." She cuts off her rant at the growing smile on your face.

"Oh no, I know that look" you grin widens and you link arms with Robin. Yes you'll join Eddie and expose Ethan for the slimy ass that he is.

❤️

With the idea in mind you decide to ask Eddie before Hellfire starts but instead find yourself walking into a session which is in full swing. Well shit. Way to make a good impression...

Eddie stops talking, he's in the middle of the campaign, just at the part where a group of rogue trolls have invaded the party and turned the gathering of friends at a tavern into a fight for survival.

"Yes... Uh cheerleader tryouts are the other way sweetheart" You scoff and raise your eyebrows at him.

"Do I look like a cheerleader to you? I'm sorry to interrupt. I wanted to catch you before you started the session, I was wondering if I could join Hellfire?"

You know Jeff from being in drama with him and he's the first to say, "Uh aren't you in that group with Ethan and George?" You shake your head.

"I was. Until they kicked me out" Eddie's big brown eyes widened and the annoyed expression was wiped from his face, he ignored the complaints of some of the freshmen and motioned you to explain.

"Ethan kicked me out because he's an arrogant, sexist troll" one of the freshmen groans and gestures widely to Eddie.

"Dude, can we hurry up and continue with the session" Eddie holds a hand up to quieten him and stares at you his eyes filled with grudging curiosity.

"Why did he kick you out?" You frown and the anger returns at Ethan and his betrayal.

"Because he wants to join up with you and impress you with his amazing DM skills which are a load of shit. He didn't even organise the last three campaigns, I did. He liked to use all of my ideas but won't have me blow his chances of pretending he's something he isn't" there's silence and Eddie looks impressed.

There's also something else in his expression that makes your stomach feel like it's doing somersaults but you can examine that later.

"So you're here to join instead before the little weasel does. Beat him at his own game huh sweetheart?" you nod and he smiles, all dimples.

"Well yeah basically, I love D&D but I also want to annoy the hell out of the asshole as well, he's just pissed that I came up with a campaign for Vecna and doesn't want me showing you how much he doesn't do for his own group" you finish your rant and wait for his answer.

Eddie's smiling by the end of your rant and gestures you over to the group.

"I like you, you can sit in and watch this session because we're more than halfway through but I'm happy for you to join the group and our next meeting. You can tell me about your stats and character after the session is over"

Thrilled you walk over to the table and Eddie barks at one of the guys to move so you're standing right beside him.

It was so not time for your heart to be doing its own version of a mini-marathon at the mere sight of Eddie's big brown eyes capturing yours. Fuck, you did not have time for whatever this was. You were here to battle dragons, defeat trolls (in real life as well) and be a badass.

Crushing on Eddie Munson would have to wait.

❤️

Eddie is definitely planning on killing Wheeler's character in the next session. He glares as Mini Wheeler finishes his rant about last night.

"You know it's so gross the way you were mooning over her all night right? Make it more obvious that you have a crush on her dude" he whines and Eddie scowls which seems to snap Mike out of his constant whining.

"I was not mooning Wheeler. I was impressed with the way she knew what she wanted and went for it, she will be a valuable asset to Hellfire"

Gareth hides a laugh as he continues eating and Eddie redirects his glare to his friend. "Anything to say Gareth the Great?" Gareth stops laughing at once but still looks amused.

"Dude, you were totally mooning over her, I think someone's in love" Eddie can feel the heat rise on his cheeks and scoffs, how dare Gareth make such an idiotic assumption.

"Love? I don't believe in love dude. This heart is far too cynical for any of that shit. I was just intrigued that's all" he's ready to fully rant when he sees you and his heart skips a beat, argument dying in his throat and his knees turn to jelly.

"Yeah be more obvious Munson" Jeff sniggers which causes Gareth to nearly choke on his sandwich.

Okay, scratch that. He's killing Gareth and Jeff's characters too.

💞

As you walk into the cafeteria the next day you avoid your usual table and head straight for Hellfire.

You wave cheerily over at Ethan and the guys and smirk at their thunderous expressions. Eddie snorts but when you look at him there's no trace of his previous amusement as he mentions the next Hellfire session will be tomorrow.

You're distracted by Ethan glowering in your direction, his arms folded as he snaps at Dean. There's a soft pressure on your hand and you look down to find Eddie's hand touching yours, it gets your attention immediately.

"We can go over your character tonight yeah? There's a spark between the two of you, it lingers in the air and your heart kicks up a notch as Eddie lets out a little groan.

He clears his throat and moves his hand away, you hide how flustered you are as he begins to talk about the new campaign but every so often his gaze meets yours and the same level of intrigue is in his gaze as you feel for him.

💞

"Lady Emmeline is an elven princess who ran away from her duties when her parents tried to marry her off to a vile prince, she's proficient with a bow and arrow but her real talent is swordsmanship, she's intelligent, brave and bold but can be impulsive and hotheaded if provoked" you read out to Eddie who nods.

"Was she your character in your old D&D group?" Eddie asks and you nod, leaning closer to him as he pulls out his notebook. It's chock-full of ideas for campaigns and drawings, being so near Eddie is playing havoc with your concentration.

He smells like leather, the faintest hint of smoke and whatever cologne he's using. It's woody and smells divine. The softness of his usually loud voice and his big Bambi eyes are distracting. It wouldn't bother you so much or at least you'd try to avoid it but the way you catch Eddie looking at you sometimes makes you melt.

It's ridiculous because you've never felt this way before about anybody but now it's happened it's overwhelming and intense.

"Nice tattoo" you murmur and he smiles as you nod to the bats and the Wyvern. "I have more" he pulls down his Hellfire shirt and you can see a black widow spider and a glimpse of a demon.

Very gently you trace a finger over one of the bats on his forearm, Eddie's breath hitches and you curse yourself for possibly freaking him out. "Sorry," you murmur and chance a peek at his expression. It's filled with longing.

"Don't be sorry princess" he's hesitant at first but then after a moment you feel his fingers trace soft patterns over your hand. The feel of his fingers on your skin is amazing and it makes you shiver in a good way.

His eyes drop down to your lips and the two of you move closer instinctively until you're both mere inches apart.

And that's when Dustin barrels in speaking a mile a minute and you and Eddie jump apart at the interruption.

Fuck.