#I wish my style wasn’t so fucking specific

[fhrlclln]

NSFW request please! Could we get Miguel cockwarming his Spider!fem!S/O while they’re both still in their spider costumes? He couldn’t help it with how great she looked fighting some bad guys!

miguel o’hara x spider!fem! reader

ANON THIS IS SO SEXY. THE SPIDERSUIT IS ALWAYS AN A+ PLUS FOR ANYBODY WEARING IT, LIKE LOOK AT MIGUEL’S ASS LMAO. but anyways, cockwarming, hehe, i love you anon. <3 i added a lil sexual frustration into the mix ; ) cuz i felt like that would be so miguel lolz.

nsfw under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

for as long as he had known you, miguel never had once experience this more intense feeling that he ever felt following the years you two had been together. you were spider-woman, as of many others but you were his spider-woman what mattered. and jesus, he thinks, as he stares at you with this embarrassing bloom inside of his mask whilst you’re swinging and kicking some couple of brutes causing havoc around nueva york. eyes strained solely on you as he merely grips his opponent’s neck tighter, not noticing how he was choking the poor man. the only question in his mind arousing as he tries to shake it off.

why did you have to wear that suit today?

he gulps, watching how you flex your each move as your ass kind of jiggled when you jumped. the tight-skin spider suit you were wearing made it worse as he feels the blood rush down to his trousers— or tights per-say. it was the suit he made specifically for you, similar to his color palette but overall suited your previous style perfectly. and he can’t help it, you just… just looked so fucking good kicking ass when your tits and ass are hugged tightly by your spidey-suit. he lets out a shaky sigh, still gripping the man’s neck not until someone interrupts his oogling.

“ahem! miguel? we got a couple of more coming in! maybe ogle later?” lyla flashes immediately in front of his face, he doesn’t notice the smirk right away from his assistant’s face as he focuses back on the mission, still glancing at you with sudden frustrating feeling clawing at the back of his neck and his crotch. he dodges an incoming bullet as it slightly grazes his shoulder making him wince, annoyed he got lost on focus.

“i know!” miguel grits his teeth as lyla disappears. he gazes hard on you as you suddenly felt your spidey-senses tingle as you glance at miguel, who merely glares again making you wave innocently at him in greeting as you bashed some thug’s head to the ground.

what was with him? you think, a little confused. huh.

•••

there was something definitely going on with him.

“you feel now what you’re doing to me, huh? speak, my love.” he whispers harshly against your ear, both of his arms wrapped around your waist as your body arches when he sinks you deeper on his cock. you gasp out, your mask thrown somewhere, discarded as the bottom piece of your suit was pushed down to your ankles while your top stayed on you uncomfortably. he was a menace when the two of you got back, immediately dragging you with his attitude to meet him in his lab for a ‘briefing’ for the next mission across the multiverse he says… but nope.

this. this certainly wasn’t you were expecting for a briefing. being tortured and cockwarmed for how many minutes you can’t remember since he fucked an orgasm into you roughly a while ago. his spent cum still nestling in you, painting your tight walls and his still hard cock inside you as well. he looked absolutely wrecked and pent-up when he murmured something about you in his suit that he made when he roughly groped your ass when he got his hands on you alone. you weren’t complaining! just that you wished he’d moved right now feeling the tip of his cock hit your cervix making you squirm again uncontrollably.

“miguel, please, it’s—“ you pleaded, moaning as he cups your breasts, massaging them with his big hands as you leaned your head on his big shoulder, whining loudly “‘is not fair.”

“not fair, hermosa? what wasn’t fair was you looking too good in this fucking suit.” he says with a chuckle, kissing your neck, nipping it lightly, fangs grazing your skin as you felt yourself shiver at the feeling of danger on your neck. you moved your hips a little, desperate for the movement of his cock thrusting into you but miguel was relentless. his way of punishing you when you literally think you didn’t do anything wrong! not his fault he couldn’t keep his dick calm around you.

“mhm, nu-uh, mamí. be a good girl for me and warm my cock up.” he slaps your thighs in warning sending shockwaves to your core along with your favorite nickname he has for you. gripping the meat of your thighs harshly as he chuckles when you swear at him with your cock-drunken mind. the feel of his cum in you, making you feel sticky and satiated at the same time was driving you nuts when his huge prick is filling you up to the brim, you can’t help it anymore, you need him.

“miguel, fuck you.” you whine again as he kisses your cheek. you can’t help but grin as you wiggle your hips again as you clench around him to tease him a bit to see what he’ll do. miguel smirks, grabbing your jaw, squishing your cheeks as he sets a final warning for you and your brattiness with a promise of a good fuck later. just that he wants to savor this moment a lil longer when he finally rips your suit to pieces that he can always make one for you after this.

“stay still or you’ll regret it.”

｡･:*˚:✧｡

listen, i wouldn’t mind my cause of 💀 be miguel’s cock— 😽🤭 ALSO MIGUEL CALLING US MAMÍ HAD ME ON MY KNEES RN *pats my shoulder* <3

[hsunrry]

ghostface // one shot harry styles

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: he decided to finally make your wish come true. based on this request.

words: ~1,6k

warnings: smut18+, knife play, oral (m receiving), dirty talking (degradation, praise), fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, dom!harry, ghostface!harry, slight size kink

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you can’t tell how many times you told him about how you’d love him to fuck you in ghostface mask. hundreds, maybe even thousands. he wasn’t against this idea, but he was thinking why you want specifically that. he wanted to surprise you, to please you. when you were standing next to the kitchen counter, about to make yourself a tea, he covered your eyes with his big hands. you chuckled.

“guess who?” he smiled under the mask to himself.

“Harry.” you smiled. he’s hands still on your eyes.

“not this time, baby.” he whispered and you frowned slightly. you grabbed his hands to uncover your eyes and you turned around to face him. your breath quickened when you saw this damn mask. the rest of his body was covered in black t-shirt, that was perfectly hugging his body and black sweatpants.

“fuck, that’s hot.” you managed to say. he quickly sat you down on the countertop, taking out butterfly knife from his pocket. he pressed cold tip to your cheek, tracing a line from it through your jawline to your neck. your breath hitched in your throat.

“what’s the matter, whore? couldn’t stand your talks about it, so decided to finally make your wish come true, yeah?” you could hear his grin under that mask. “i’m gonna fuck you just the way you deserve. i’m gonna use your pretty pussy to fill it with my cum.” he putted the knife under your chin, so you were looking up at him. you licked your lips slightly. “like the sound of that, cunt?” he pressed the tip of the knife harder. you nodded. “use your fucking words.”

“yes.” you said immediately. he chuckled lowly.

“good girl. so now…” he started cutting off the buttons from his shirt that you had on yourself with the knife. “i’ll tell you what will happen…” he cut off the last button, exposing your chest with black laced bra. he quickly took the shirt off you, tracing lines on your skin with the knife, cutting you slightly in few places. it was probably an accident, but you’re playing with knife, so what did you expect? “first, we’ll go to bedroom soon and you’ll suck me off.” knife went in the center of your bra, under the material. he cut it in the half in one swift motion, your breasts exposed for him now. “then, i’ll fuck you with my fingers so hard, until all our neighbors get to know my name.” cold metal tip of the knife tracing around your one nipple. “after that i’ll fuck you so hard you’ll see the stars, i’ll use your slit for my pleasure, because that’s what you deserve, slut.” he touched your other breast with his hand this time, squeezing it. you moaned, watching him closely this whole time. knife traced line from your breast down your stomach. it was so sharp that it was leaving white lines on your skin and cutting you in few places. your already drenched panties got cut on your hips, leaving you all naked. “and at the end, i’ll take care of you, because i love you so fucking much. is it all understandable for you?” he pressed cold metal flat to your cunt, causing your gasp.

“yes, it is.” you said quietly.

“good. now get your ass to our bedroom and wait there for me, fucking whore.” he patted your pussy few times with flat side of the knife, before putting it to his pocked. you hopped off the counter and when you started walking his hand met your ass with hard smack. you smiled to yourself, going to the bedroom. you sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for him. after few minutes the doors opened and he was standing there only in black boxers and mask on his face. his dick visibly hard. he approached you, standing between your legs and looking down at you. he took the knife out, holding your chin up with it. “bet you can’t wait to swallow my whole cock like a slut you’re.” knife went from your chin to press on your lower lip. you opened your mouth, looking up at him this whole time. “i’m gonna fuck your mouth, leave it open like that.” he gripped your chin with his hand, squeezing it firmly. your breath was already heavy from how turned on you were by all of that. he took off his boxers, stroking himself few times. he threw the knife beside you and took your head with both of his hands. he pushed his tip inside your mouth and stopped. “suck, bitch.” you started pleasing his head with your tongue, sucking from time to time. he was looking down at you. ghostface was looking down at you. he moaned, pulling out his dick from your mouth. “now open wide for me.” you quickly obeyed. he pushed all the way until his tip hit the back of your throat. “fuck, didn’t even gagged at my big cock, we’ll see about that, slut.” he started moving in and out. your lips wrapped around his length. you were breathing heavy through your nose, swallowing him whole. his dick curling down your throat from time to time. “fucking god, yes, good fucking girl.” he panted, thrusting faster. you gripped his hips to hold onto something. you closed your eyes to focus on breathing through your nose. “swallowing my whole dick, nothing but a whore.” he gasped, thrusting faster. saliva running down from the corners of your mouth already. you moaned around him, making him groan. “just a little more, i’m so close. you’re gonna swallow, yeah?” you only managed to moan again. after his few hard thrusts, hot sprouts of his cum went down your throat. his dick twitching in your mouth, emptying himself inside it. your name falling from his lips like mantra. he finally pulled out and you took a deep breath. you were panting just like him. you looked up at him, watching him taking knife to his hand again. “lips together.” he commanded. your parted lips close at his words. he collected your saliva mixed with his cum with the knife from around your lips. “now tongue out.” you quickly stick your tongue out. he putted knife against your lips and you licked everything from knife. you were sure he was grinning under that mask. he tossed the knife on the bed, grabbing your hips and effortlessly pushing you against pillows. you laid on your back, watching him going on top of you. his hand went down, his finger teasing you between your folds. “jesus christ, so fucking wet.”

“fuck.” you moaned, feeling his two fingers going inside you. he started moving them right away at fast pace. “Harry.” you whined.

“that’s right, we’ll let know whole fucking neighborhood who you belong to.” he said, moving faster. you were so wet it all almost sound like porn. his digits curling in this perfect angle he knew was driving you crazy.

“Harry i- fuck, please.” your hips went up. he quickly putted them down with his free hand, pushing on your lower stomach.

“what was that, slut? you’re begging now? what’s the matter, can’t handle good orgasm?” he started moving faster and you almost cried out of pleasure.

“Harry, jesus christ!” you moaned, squirting all over his fingers, stomach, dick and sheets. his fingers fucked you through it. he pulled out, smacking your pussy gently, but still causing your body flinch.

“you were so needy you squirted, my pretty girl.” he parted your legs, positioning himself at your entrance. “gonna take my load like a good girl.” he pushed all the way in, your eyes rolling back from pleasure and overwhelming feeling. his hand gripping your hips, pounding into you fast and rough. he knew you’re gonna be sore and he loved the thought. he loved he’ll take care of you tomorrow and single thought of that was pushing him closer to his climax. “so tight, using your hole for my own pleasure, like some slut.” he panted. you gripped the pillow above your hand, trying to hold onto something. “but you’re mine. only mine. no one else is able to have you like that. understand? fucking say it.” he started moving faster, grabbing your legs and wrapping them around his hips. he adjusted, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.

“yes, i’m yours- fucking god- only yours baby.” you moaned loudly, watching him taking off the mask. he leaned to capture your lips with his finally.

“that’s fucking right.” he panted against your mouth. your back arched from overwhelming pleasure. “gonna fill you to the brim, you feel so good.” he groaned. with his few thrusts you started clenching around his cock, finishing with his name on your lips and your whole body arched towards him. “fuck, y/n.” he moaned, slowing down his movements when his dick was painting your inner walls. he buried himself deep inside you, panting heavily. he placed few kisses on your neck. “hope you enjoyed, sweetheart.” he whispered against your skin.

“i did. i love you so much.” you caressed his hair.

“i’m gonna take care of you now, my angel.”

[showtoonzfan]

Also yeah this new Hazbin cast is not it man. I’m sorry. Most of them either sound flat, don’t fit with the character design, or are just not as good as the original. Angel and Alastor I especially don’t like, Alastor sounds so nasally and Amari just can’t top Bosco’s performance, with Bosco not only was he good but when Alastor was threatening, he SOUNDED threatening. I may have made fun of Al’s design, but Bosco’s voice is what made the character interesting and threatening for me. With Amari’s voice he just sounds beyond silly and I can’t take him seriously.

Blake Roman is literally just intimidating Kovach, except this time Angel just sounds forced and awkward. It makes you wonder why Viv just didn’t get Kovach back since it’s obvious she wanted to find someone so similar to him, and then you realize…oh yeah, Kovach wasn’t on Broadway or is a big singer. Micheal was really good at what he did as Angel too as everyone has already said so Viv fumbled the bag SO hard with these two it’s sad. I’m especially pissed about Alastor cause Bosco was the reason he was my favorite character and now he sounds so cringe.

Husk and Vox are played by two very talented actors/singers but their voices just don’t fit with the character design, though I’m not that against Christain Borle as Vox, the voice doesn’t fit the twink design but at the very least they got a man who sounds like a full grown adult playing a full grown adult lmao. Husk is a different story however, because it feels like Keith was picked to play him just because he was famous and nothing else. Back in the pilot, Viv had a specific voice in mind for Husk and she found it, aka Mick. He perfectly came off as an old washed up grumpy alcoholic, and Keith’s voice kinda just…erases all that personality. Sure Keith’s voice sounds cool but that’s it, it’s style over substance.

I wish I could say more about Charlie and Vaggie but I’m not sure what to say other then they kinda sound forced and awkward too, and I hate saying that cause they’re also played by two very talented actresses. Stephanie B played Mirabel from Encanto, she’s had voice acting experience before so I hope she ends up sounding good in the actual show. Erika meanwhile…I hate to say this but other than her singing voice there’s nothing really special about her as Charlie compared to Jill Harris, though even with Jill I never felt any strong feelings towards her performance.

Adam meanwhile, dear GOD I was right about him looking bad in animation form, his design sucks so fucking much. Fans were right, that’s Alex Brightman’s voice, he seems to be using his normal voice but just a tad deeper. He’s the only one who’s a fine choice, though I really wish we got to hear him as Pentious here!

But yeah in terms of the voice cast I’m just disappointed man, really disappointed. It makes you really realize how talented the pilot cast was. They were so good cause they were all chosen for a reason that wasn’t just “they’re famous” and it fucking sucks how bad Viv fumbled everything.

[redstarwriting]

hobie brown dating a mall goth hcs

hobie brown x mall goth!reader

request?: yes

request: “Hiiii!!! I am absolutely IN LOVE with ur the clash series and I can’t wait to see how it progresses!!! Could u do some pda/general affection hcs for the spider verse characters? I would love to see Miles and Hobie hcs but it’s rlly up to whatever characters u would wanna write for. Endless thanks!!”

requested by: anon

warnings:  language, mentions of stealing

a/n: this request made me cackle. mall goths are so iconic lol thank you for the request! i hope you enjoy.

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- OH MY GOD LMAO

- side note i wanted to be a mall goth so bad when i was like 13 lmao

- just launder outside of a hot topic with all my black hot topic merch on

- they shoulda paid mall goths for advertising man lemme just say

- but let’s get into it

- when he first met you

- admittedly he thought you were a poser

- but when he got to know you

- he understood that you were part of a subculture within a subculture

- you weren’t a poser

- you were exactly what you said you were

- and he respected it

- and he respected you

- okay so he wouldn’t hate all of your music

- most of it?

- yes 

- he did not enjoy listening to quite a bit

- but omg every time he wasn’t immediately put off by a song

- you add it to your LISTEN AROUND HOBIE playlist

- his only rule when it comes to listening to your music is NO M*RILYN M*NSON

- and if you don’t know what that means

- good, you don’t need to

- wish i didn’t

- but he will always

- and i mean always

- sit and listen to whatever you wanna show him

- he’ll never outwardly say a song sucks to you

- only that it isn’t his style of music

- of course, sometimes you ask him to explain further

- just so you know what songs to play and not play for him

- “Why don’t you like it?”

   “Just not my style, love.”

   “You always say that. What about this song don’t you like? I won’t be upset, I just am curious.”

   “Fine, with this specific song i ‘ate the lyrics. Too… emo? I guess? Not in the mood to be sad about m’sef.”

- he just loves seeing you vibing to your songs

- so he isn’t really gonna shit on you for liking any of it

- that’s what they want him to do

- he isn’t gonna >:(

- in fact

- he can, will, and has gone to shows with you

- it’s not his music and he can acknowledge that

- but again

- you like it

- and he loves watching you be happy

- something he actually does very heavily fuck with about your mall goth ways

- is your clothes

- he could do without the various band merch

- mainly because he doesn’t like the bands all that much

- but the rest of it?

- he actually likes

- he enjoys that you do have some splashes of color in your style every now and again

- and that there are loud patterns clashing with each other sometimes

- he can also really appreciate all the spikes and studs and chains on your clothes, too

- he also likes that he knows exactly what to get you as gifts

- does he buy the shit you talk about?

- absolutely not

- steal it?

- now you’re onto something

- he’s gotten you like 7 Jack Skellington plushies

- all different

- and each time you love them

- and sometimes

- sometimes

- he will even go hang out at the mall with you

- but it’s not often

- he’s usually too preoccupied with the Spider-Man gig

- or his shows

- but sometimes he likes to surprise you

- and show up when you’re with your friends

- but yeah

- he overall doesn’t like the music, necessarily

- but he also doesn’t give a fuck about labels

- you can call yourself whatever you want

- he likes you as a person

- and that’s all that matters to him

───────────────────────────────────

[instarsandcrime]

Tuned Out

Oh gosh it's been uh. Almost a month since I've written something??? Well, I hope you enjoy this one! I loved the idea of a sick L/uc/ifer spiraling, and being broken out of it by A/la/stor's radio show because I'm weak to the idea-- though it can be interpreted as both platonic and Ra//di//o//A//pple.

And here's a quick heads-up: Though this is still the usual fluffy fic, the spiral paragraph itself is a bit rough. So I'm going to put a trigger warning below and in the summary when I add this fic to the list. If intrusive thoughts and vague thoughts of self-harm are too much, please skip the italicized second paragraph. You can still read the fic without needing to include this part, so don't feel ANY pressure to do so if you aren't/will never be ready. Please, pleeeassseee take care of yourselves!

Otherwise, enjoy!

TW: Intrusive thoughts, vague thoughts of self-harm

---

Burning. His skin felt like it was burning him alive. That was the only sensation Lucifer could feel. His tired eyes stared up at the canopy of his bed, face glowing softly with fever. Its flush spread gold across the embedded pearls above, making them sparkle like stars. He sighed, crackling sparks floating from his lips as thoughts poked and prodded at his overheated mind.

Fuck. He really was pathetic, wasn’t he? Can’t move, can’t get up, can’t get a glass of water, eat dinner, call Charlie– call. Charlie? Oh, poor Charlie. She must be so disappointed in him. He chuckled weakly, What would she even say to him that she hasn’t already thought? He could imagine it. He really could. ‘Seriously, Lucifer?! I literally meant nothing to you for years and now suddenly you waltz into my life? And instead of actually spending time with me, you’re calling from a room that could’ve gone to someone who truly needed it, ordering me to wait on you hand and foot like I’m your butler? Like our entire relationship meant nothing? You threw me away, and now you’re going to do it again?! You know what? You deserve this! You deserve to rot in your bed! Get as starving and sick as you want! At least now the inside will match the outside! You’re terrible! I hate you! No. No, you know what? I wish you got your second shot at Heaven. I wish you had at least a week of laughter, fun, and fucking fireworks so they could tear off your wings andyoucanFallalloveragai–’

A burst of static pierced the air, shattering the constricting spiral just before it could break him again– and replaced it with a new form of dread.

“Why hello there all you wayward sinners! Welcome once again to tonight’s show with your host: The Radio Demon!”

“Uuugh!” Lucifer groaned dramatically, snatching one of his many pillows to press over his head. 

Right. The stupid fucking radio. From under the shadows, the sickly demon couldn't help but glare daggers at the piece of junk resting on his nightstand. Alastor had requested those old, outdated mortal inventions for every hotel room– specifically from the 1920’s era because apparently he preferred style and substance. Whatever that meant. 

Regardless. He insisted that it was needed for announcements, communication, and entertainment. In other words– somewhere, somehow, Alastor was currently studying him and him alone with invisible eyes. Surgically scanning him at the seams for the slightest rip. The slightest tear. As if his prey wasn't the most powerful being here. Dramatic bastard.

“And how are you doing this fine evening, Your Majesty?” The radio sung.

“Go away.” The lump of fluff grumbled.

"Of course not! It is my duty as your hotelier to take note of every little detail of my building, no matter how tiny and insignificant. And I am ever-so-glad I have! It is quite the rare sight to watch our King of Hell lose face to a simple case of the sniffles. Truly a headline for the ages!"

An angry red blush painted over the king’s golden cheeks, immediately pushing himself upright. Towering wings puffed, pillows and blankets tossed about the bed as he went. "Now see here! Sinners get sick. Overlords get sick. Hell, Charlie and Lilith can get sick! Me? I’m just rehhh…Snff! Ugh, resti'g…"

"Resting. Of course. I suppose I will believe you for convenience’s sake--"

"Hhheh…! Het'shiew!"

"--oh! Bless you."

"Het'shhhiew!"

"Bless y--"

"Hep'shhhh! 'Etshhh! 'Tshhh! 'Tshhh-'tshh-'tch! ...HhhhehhHH...! HEH'TSSHHHIEW!"

"My goodness, bless! You sound absolutely miserable. Shall I fetch you a glass of water? Or another blanket, perhaps?"

"Nhhh– no." Lucifer protested between hitching breaths, conjuring a handkerchief with the flick of the wrist, "N-no thahhh...hhhah! Hhhh...”

He finally lowered the cloth when the tickle finally fizzled out, heaving a sigh of relief. “Ndo thadk you. Snff!" He took a deep breath before letting loose a mucky blow into the fabric, "It's fine. I'm fine."

A pause. "Ah."

"What? What is it now?"

"Oh nothing, nothing! I’ll let you get back to your rest. But before I go, could I mention one more thing?”

“Absolutely not.”

“It’s just. Well, I had my first impressions, but I assumed that the King of Hell wouldn't be so cowardly."

"Cowardly?!" Lucifer repeated incredulously, spitting a plume of smoke.

"I see your hearing is as sharp as your wit."

"I'll show you cowardly you…y-you…hhh-!" The demon’s nose twitched desperately, and he cursed between hitching gasps as it tried again and again to just get. The damned itch. Out.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't quite catch that."

"You…you self-important…hehhh…p-pompous…!" 

"How flattering of you to notice my worth! And would you believe it? You're absolutely right! I am the fundraiser for this humble project, after all. The guide for these poor, misguided souls. Ones such as yourself."

"Oh, please! We both know you’re...you're no behhh...better than…hhhH–!" Lucifer's handkerchief raised to his face.

"Trying to use your infamous silver tongue through a sneeze? My word! Charlie had told me you were stubborn. But this?"

"Eshhh! Et'SCHHH! HEH'ETSCHH'HHHIEW!" He quickly twisted his head away to let loose a breath of flame, barely singeing the well-abused cloth.

"Poor, poor Lucifer Morningstar.” Alastor teased, his voice as soft and careful as a snake in the grass. The smattering of footsteps echoed across the floorboards, circling the bed. “Always choosing your own heavenly guilt over the needs of everyone else."

"HEH'ESCHH'HHHIU! Hehh! Hhh…hghh…"

"Which is a shame, considering the ill resident who requires attention. Trapped in their own feverish mind. Alone while their partner is away. Unable to move or think or even ask for help properly. But I’m sure you wouldn’t know how it feels for them, considering how indestructible you are."

"...There is?" Lucifer finally croaked, cringing to himself at another gurgling nose blow.

"Of course! While you were hiding in your room with your wings tucked between your legs, I'm afraid you've missed someone very important. Someone close to you."

Lucifer froze. He didn't mean.

"Mmm. Let's see." As the radio host thought stubby knobs spun on their own, playing flickers of songs diluted by time. "Rosy cheeks. Blonde hair. Red eyes that sparkle so damn brightly one could go blind."

Oh no.

"Puffy bow tie. Black fingernails."

Did. Did he get his little girl sick? Please, please don't let that be the case.

"The most spell-binding singing voice."

He thought back to breakfast. How Charlie had eaten less than normal. How she sniffled once or twice at the table. Wait, did her face look pale? Maybe the light didn’t catch it?

A knot formed in the pit of his stomach.

"Wh-where is she-- they, um! That. Resident right now?"

"Oh, performing the usual suffering patient routine. Lying in bed. Being miserable. Quite adament about sleeping the bug off. Reminds me of the ol’ picture books that star wealthy socialites and their sickly Victorian children. The ones who die due to their parents' neglect and mistreatment."

"I could help her." The fallen angel mumbled anxiously as he pushed himself upright. "I could help her right– …now..." 

The second he dared to stand he nearly fainted, stumbling dizzily to grab the bedpost for support. From beneath a small string of black tentacles sprouted from the ground, nudging him back into place and under the covers as The Radio Demon tutted disapprovingly. 

"I wouldn’t do that if I were you. If you can't partake in the complex act of resting, then what good are you to our dear, sweet Charlie?"

"Shut. Up." Lucifer hissed, "I am a grown adult--"

"--debatable--"

"--and I choose what to do with my free time! And it's my jo-- koff koff! j-job to help my daughter when she needs it!" A shaky finger waved at all six radios. Or were there seven?

"To be quite honest Sire, I would prefer to do my tasks without your meddling. Actually, I would prefer not to perceive your existence at all, thank you very much. Unless..."

"Unless?"

"Unless you'd rather call her yourself. But I know you won't." A mocking tone laced with static, “You c̴̨̮͊o̶̗̤̿ẇ̷̙á̴̼̖ȑ̶͉̕d̶̙͚͗̕.”

“I– wh–” Lucifer laughed in sheer disbelief, snatching up his phone. “Y-you’re– you’re joking, right? I’m not some– some godforsaken hermit!"

"Then by all means, prove it."

"I am!"

“I’m waiting."

"Oh, I’ll do it! I’ll do such a good call. It’ll be the– snff! goodest caller you’ve ever seen.” The King of Hell pouted like a child as he moved his claws.

“Ugh. Lord knows how he’ll act if he gets worse.” The radio mumbled quietly.

“Whassat?”

“My apologies, Your Majesty! I forgot that your company as of late are less of the civilized and more the rubber duck variety.”

"Of all the– if you weren't stuck to Charlie like a parasite I would take the sharpest end of my tail and shove it up your--"

Click!

"Dad?" A voice croaked.

"Charlie!" Lucifer's venom turned saccharine sweet, flipping on a dime. "Hey! Hi! H-how are ya, sweetie?"

"Mmrgh...what time is it?"

"It's. Um. Evening…time? Look, that doesn't matter right now. Are you feeling alright, kiddo?"

"Am I feeling alright?" His patient echoed sleepily.

"Yeah! I uh. IIIII just wanted to check in. See if you were okay." 

"Oh. Um, I'm okay." A bit of rustling and a pause. "Are you okay?"

"Snff! Me?"

"Yes, you! You looked so tired at breakfast this morning, a-and you didn’t eat anything which never happens! And you were kinda glowing? It kinda seemed bad but I didn’t want to ask because maybe it was a personal thing and– wait, your voice is…are you crying?!" Rustling turned into the shuffle of pacing slippers.

"What? No! Nonononono! I just--" Lucifer froze, feeling another itch start to build, handkerchief nowhere to be found under the sea of fabric. "Jhhh-just excuse mbe for– snff! For a seggond. Keebp t-talki’g…!"

He quickly pressed his hand against the speaker, stifling into his shoulder until the scratchy wool felt damp. "Hh'ntt! Hh’ngk! Hhh’TCH! ‘TCH! Hhhhh...HT'CHNXT'hiew! Guhh..."

"Sure. A-anyway, you called me pretty early in the morning and after all that and this. Soooo…is there anything I can do to help?"

Desperate claws scrambled to craft a new handkerchief and wipe his streaming face. "N-no! No, no-- snff! absolutely not! Worry about yourself Char-Char, I'm fi--....f-fihh...!"

Hang up, pinch your nose shut, do anything but--

"HET'SHHH'HIEW!" Lucifer doubled over.

–sneeze.

"Oh geez, that sounded terrible!” Charlie gasped, “Is that why you've been in your room all day? Are you sick?"

A sudden, very obvious realization hit him. Silently the fallen king sunk into his mattress, wishing he could be swallowed by his comforter. His cheeks burned. The familiar description. The taunting. 

“Can I. Call you back, Stardust?” 

“What? Whoa, whoa, wait, we’re not finished here–” With a final monotone beep, the call ended.

"You.” Lucifer clenched his fangs.

“Yes?” Alastor hummed non-chalantly. “YOU.”

“Gracious! No need to shout. Even The Devil Himself should know that a sickly patient musn’t raise his voice, lest it get worse than it already is!”

“Watch your back, bellhop. Next time I see you, no ring of Hell will compare to what I-- koff! I’ll–" The threat died with a wheeze, breaking into another ill-timed fit.

"And that's all for tonight, folks!" The radio suddenly hopped back to life, "Tomorrow's show may be a little dicey schedule wise, as our guest star is feeling quite unwell. Will he finally exit his literal and proverbial cave of sorrows for once in his miserable life? Or, much like his saintly past, will pride once again be his downfall--"

"Dad! Are you– eep!"

Charlie's entrance was suddenly interrupted when a black fist rained down on the damned noise box, breaking in a fit of bouncing springs and wooden splinters. The room stilled until a meek, nervous chuckle finally broke the spell.

"Charlie, dear?"

"Y…yeah?"

"Um. Could. Could I trouble you for a glass of water?"

[nervouscitytmblr]

Theo's free use feat. Keeho (⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠)⁠♡

exhibitionism, swallowing, Keeho's in charge, Taeyang is called princess

wc : 948

Taeyang was half asleep as he got his makeup done. He was happy to keep his eyes closed as his stylist worked on his eyeshadow, though he worried he’d actually fall asleep.

Evidently, he wouldn’t have to worry. A hand landed on his shoulder, and wouldn’t have thought anything of it if it hadn't slid down his arm to squeeze his bicep. His heartbeat picked up, now intrigued. He kept his eyes closed because they were still being worked on.

The hand slipped back up and settled at the base of his neck, at his collar bones. The stylist must want to play. Taeyang didn’t mind, he never did, but was already embarrassed by being out in the open like this. The dressing room just had the group members and their staff, who all knew about Taeyang’s specific state of affairs, but the amount of people here still made him shy.

Taeyang sat straighter when it moved to his chest, the thumb on his nipple. If he didn’t already have concealer and foundation on, his blushed cheeks would’ve been obvious. Blood also flushed his cock. He was still embarrassed, but let whatever happen, happen.

His chair was turned and the stylist knelt a leg on it, in between his thighs. The knee pressed close to his bulge. Taeyang shifted. He wondered if he was allowed to grind on it. Or maybe he was supposed to. The hand that had been applying his eyeshadow grasped his jaw and thumbed at his lips. Taeyang obediently opened his mouth.

“You’re so good for us. Always are.”

Taeyang’s body bloomed hot at the voice. He opened his eyes to see Keeho in front of him, the makeup artist out of sight. His blush deepened. Keeho smirked at him. Taeyang was fine with this, even preferred this, but it was still surprising. He wanted to know at what point it was Keeho touching him, not the stylist.

“Did you mess up my makeup?” Taeyang managed to speak.

Keeho chuckled. He bent and pecked Taeyang’s lips, barely there, probably to avoid transferring his lipstick. “You have such little faith in me. Come.” He said, moving towards the door.

Taeyang avoided eye contact as he followed Keeho out of the room. Shuffling down the hallway behind Keeho, he held his hands in front of his crotch to hide his hard-on. Keeho didn't seem to be concerned with his problem. They ducked into a bathroom and Keeho pulled him into a stall.

Keeho pushed him to the wall, albeit gently, and got his hands underneath his shirt. He went up to his chest and cupped his pecs, his thumbs rubbing his nipples. Taeyang's breath hitched.

“When was it you?” Taeyang whispered. “You and not her?”

Keeho smirked. “Does it matter?”

Taeyang watched Keeho’s hands slide down his stomach and push into his pants, tugging them and his underwear down. He wrapped his hand around Taeyang’s hard cock. Taeyang was glad they were doing this before the performance—he didn’t want to be distracted on stage.

“I was the one touching your chest.” Keeho told him.

That meant the stylist had started it. She had felt his arm and the base of his neck. The thought made Taeyang shiver. While he saw her almost every day, he wasn’t close with her, and Taeyang was in love with the fact that a near stranger could, and did, touch him like that. His hips pushed into Keeho’s hand.

Keeho grinned, amused. “You can jerk off while you blow me, yeah?”

Taeyang nodded. He got to his knees before Keeho even had his dick out. And Keeho stepped away to lean against the other wall, so Taeyang had to crawl to him. Keeho guided Taeyang to his cock with a hand on the back of his head and a smug smile.

Taeyang took him down his throat. He momentarily worried about getting his knees dirty on the bathroom floor, but didn't exactly care—his pants were dark, anyway. He held Keeho's hips and bobbed his head on him. Keeho pet his hair lightly, minding the styling. Taeyang wished he would grip his hair and fuck his face, but he’d settle for what he could get. It was for the best, anyway; he needed his throat in good condition.

Keeho seemed to have the same thought. “Feels good, princess, but be careful. Gotta sound pretty later, yeah?”

Taeyang nodded. He sucked on his cockhead and pumped his length.

“Are you touching yourself?”

Taeyang shook his head, looking up at him.

“Why not?”

Taeyang blushed. He'd forgotten Keeho told him to do that. He pumped his cock. He looked at Keeho, eyes wide and hopeful. Keeho smiled. He guided him back to his dick.

Taeyang got Keeho off first, and stayed on his knees to finish jerking himself off. He accidentally came on Keeho’s shoes, and Keeho wasn’t mad, but he had Taeyang wipe it off himself with some toilet paper. Then Taeyang stood and Keeho kissed him a few more times. Even with how this all started, Taeyang felt loved and appreciated.

“Good, princess?” Keeho asked, cupping Taeyang’s face.

Taeyang nodded. He took Keeho’s hand and kissed the palm of it, wishing they could do more. Maybe they could continue once home.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re gonna make me want to miss the performance just to keep kissing you.”

Taeyang grinned. Keeho rolled his eyes, kissed him one more time, then took them back to the dressing room. Taeyang was shy walking into the room, but Keeho wasn’t, so he tried to be like him. Their makeup was touched up and then Taeyang had to perform like nothing just happened.

[toxicanonymity]

Heyyyyy! You can totally ignore this 🙏🏻 but as someone who’s now read most of what you wrote for Joel and enjoyed (!) it, I was wondering if you ever had to justify to yourself the topics you are writing about. I know it’s a fantasy that doesn’t reflect supporting those narratives irl. But do the topics affect you in any way while writing or do you not let it have any hold of you? I’m sorry this is so serious but you are the first fic writer dealing with this stuff that I actively read (after roughly 15 years of reading/writing fanfic) so I’m asking in good spirits and mean no harm or negativity. All the best and I wish you many more successful stories 🙏🏻🌻 ty for the great reads!!

Okay, I’m nervous to answer this one.  I hope the answer doesn't upset you because that's not at all my intent.  I'm only gonna answer a Q like this once, so fuck it we ball . Only read this if you're comfortable with all of my work.

A few weeks ago, I was talking to my personal trainer about this, and it just so happens that his husband is a sex therapist. Kink friendly, and I know they swing, so that put me at ease and I got in touch with him. Also drug friendly which is good because I had to get high before my first appointment bc I was nervous lol.   Random, but when I got there, I found out he also shares a waiting room with a massage parlor, so that's kinda cool too.  

First Appointment: Idk how many waivers I had to sign but I didn't read a word of them.  Let’s call him Dr. Rock  for short - When Dr. Rock came out to get me, I shouldn't have been surprised given his husband is a PT, but this guy was super imposing, like muscles making his arms stick out from his body.  At the first appointment, he wanted to know some of my specific characters and stories, which I didn't expect.  I was a little shy about that at first, but he kinda coaxed it out of me and listened really attentively.  He even took a few notes which made me nervous at first, but he didn't ask any judgmental questions.  I felt good when I left, but the next week I was still a little nervous to come back just in case he was waiting until the second session to spring any "concern" on me. 

Second Appointment: When I showed up for the second session, he didn't come get me from the waiting room. I was the last appointment of the day and he was running behind, catching up on paperwork, and the receptionist said I could go on back. I walked into his office and it reeked of weed. And he had already taken off his shirt and was wearing a tight undershirt. Okay, Dr. Rock is cool.  He invited me to sit at his desk that time instead of the sofa, and I worried it was a bad sign, but it turned out that’s just where the ashtray was.  Dr. Rock  lit up an actual joint, took a puff, then tried to hand it to me.  I declined, I guess I was just flustered.  Kinda smoothed my skirt then sat back down.  He put the joint down in the ashtray, I thought that’s that. 

Then he lunged across his desk, took my head in both his hands, and brought his mouth about an inch away from mine.  I opened my mouth, totally frozen, and he exhaled into it.  Yeah, Dr. Rock shotgunned me.  Then I looked down, and what was he wearing with that tight-ass shirt?  PJ pants.  Coincidence?  Wasn’t sure, until he said “yeah, there’s my bad girl.  You couldn’t sign those waivers fast enough, could ya?” He slid across his desk, Saved by the Bell style,  I stood up to not get knocked over.  He walked over and double-locked his office door.   I must've been beet red.  Like almost too mortified to be turned on, until he got right up against me and he was hard. I walked backwards to the couch and he pinned me on it.  

I was like, “Uh, is J (husband) cool with -” 

“Don’t you worry ‘bout him..” He started gnawing at my neck.  Shoved his hand between my legs.  And yes, yes I was.  He was like “Ohh yeah, you know you want it.  Let’s see how depraved you can be.”  He took off my panties, pulled down his waistband, railed me.  At first, I was kinda distracted thinking about if he was gonna ask me questions at the end and stuff, but he was actually really good and well equipped and I forgot all about it after a minute. He was like “Yeah, you want this cock, that’s why you came here in the first place. Hell, J prolly told ya how to get it.” I was speechless.  When he was close, he said “Lemme see those filthy fingers you’re always typin’ with.”  Then he came into both my hands.   

-

Third Appointment:  Next time I came in, I was expecting to have a traditional appointment and have to talk about my feelings in the previous experience and stuff.  I was really nervous.  Once again, he didn’t come get me from the waiting room, and I was told to go back to his office.  But that time, he wasn’t at his desk or even in his office.  I sat on the couch - felt less like I was invading his Dr. space that way.  I was sitting there in his office, picking lint off my skirt, and out of the corner of my eye I saw someone his size lumber through the door.  

I did a double take - blue mechanic suit, popped collar. Triple take - Michael Myers mask, WHAT? My heart was beating out of my chest. I stood up as a reflex. He stood there wiggling his fingers at his sides almost imperceptibly. Then he pulled a knife out! He wrapped his hand around my throat, walked me into the wall, and just stood there.  He put the knife up to my throat and I kind of whimpered, and maybe he realized he went too far, because he threw the knife to the floor.  Then he just stood there holding me against the wall.  I was like, “Should I.. what do you want me to do?”  And he just tilted his head at me.  I looked down and sure enough there was a huge bulge in his jumpsuit.  So I went for it, I unzipped him.  He breathed heavily in the mask, then aggressively lifted up my dress and ripped open my stockings.  Then he railed me up against the wall. Didn't say a word the whole time.  Finished, left me there, didn't come back. 

-

Fourth Appointment:  This was gonna be a little awkward because I had an appointment at the gym with J. right after my appointment with Dr. Rock.  I didn’t know how much Dr. Rock shared with J.  Dr. Rock was running behind again and I started getting nervous about making it to the gym in time to work out with J.  I texted J. to tell him I was running late, and he didn’t respond.  After waiting for like 30 minutes, I decided to leave because I didn’t want to miss my training session. 

I got to my car, started to unlock it, then heard, "Don't you fuckin' dare."  I turned around, and Dr. Rock was pointing a rifle at me?? My heart almost stopped. I think this was an actual rifle. I live in Texas so I wouldn't be surprised.   It was slung over his back with a strap and all.  I looked down and he was wearing boots and TACTICAL fucking JEGGINGS.  He put me over his shoulder  at first and started back toward the building and I was so nervous about the rifle swaying right next to my head. 

I said, "please, I can walk." 

"Alright, sweet pea but you better move those pretty legs." 

He put me down and manhandled me inside, NOT into his office, but into the massage parlor and threw me down on a DIRTY old massage table.  Here's the kicker - there were clients in this room.  A bunch of depraved men waiting for their happy ending.  He unbuckled his belt while making me pull down my pants and choose where I wanted him. Then he pounded me from behind and pulled me up against his chest.  He lifted my shirt and bra up so all the clients could see and degraded them while he fucked me. Like, "yeah this is what y'all came for innit? Buncha sickos.  Well she's not workin'.  Not this one. You won't fuckin see her again. Better jack it now while ya have the chance." He made the whole room of clients jerk off.    Then, when Dr. Rock  was about to come, he pulled out, pumped himself,  walked over to the nearest table, and came all over the client, who started sobbing.  Then Dr. Rock came back to my table and said "you did good, sweet pea" and left.  

When I got back to my car, I had a text from J. that said, “Get a good enough workout?”

-

Sorry for answering your sincere ask this way, but thanks for the perfect opportunity to apply this concept. Hopefully an entertaining way of declining to get serious?

[imaginespazzi]

Nivi – hey bestie, you’ve done it again – I wasn’t sure it could get more heartbreaking than the last one and yet!

As always, the writing is- well, it’s everything.

The parallels between high school them and college them was immaculate, and I so wish Paige could have fulfilled her dream of kissing Azzi under the confetti, but alas, maybe in another universe 😉

I loved the little exchange about UConn and California, and how that possibility was always there but Paige could just never accept it.

P and UConn winning the natty this year – it had to happen in at least one universe, so thank you for letting it happen in this one.

Side note: Drew and Paige interactions are always top tier, and very much the type of momentary fluff that I needed to break up the sadness while reading.

Side note 2: I love that I don’t even need to imagine what Azzi wearing Paige’s jersey would look like, but I’m glad ucla au Paige got to experience it too 🥹

The celebration with the team was so cute and of course it would be KK that basically helps break the ice (and her lil innocent “you should bring her around more often” 🥺). Also, all the little moments Az got with everyone else in the team was so wholesome, and ofc queen Nika being a loveable menace who’s always just looking out for her twin.

Side note 3: I love love love the two piggyback moments haha, just because that’s so pazzi core to me idk, I feel like there’s been a lot of photos where Azzi is piggybacking Paige irl, like that’s very much their thing so I adored seeing it incorporated here. But then, the ending. I knew it was coming, but it certainly did not make it hurt any less when we got there. “Fuck,” Paige’s voice is still wracked with sleep, “I thought you left.” “That’s more your style,” Azzi says – this was particularly heartbreaking, but I can’t really blame Azzi, even if P is trying so hard to make things right.

Overall, I may or may not have been tearing up throughout the entire chapter, and it somehow hit me even harder the second time I read through it? I think that’s just testament to your writing tbh.

Thoughts on what’s next:

Do things finally start getting better? It can’t get any worse, can it? (famous last words) 😅

I did wonder actually, whether you’d have them win or lose the natty, only because if they did win which obviously they did here (thank you), could that maybe change P’s mind at all on declaring or not?

I’m guessing she obviously sticks to her og decision and stays, and so I’m super intrigued on what might come next for them.

Like will they try going back to being just friends? Even though they’ve already tried and failed and knowing that would never be enough for Paige. But can they really not be in each other’s lives??

Will they try seeing other people again??

Summer’s coming up in the timeline and they’ve never spent an entire summer apart, so what will they do this summer? 😔 Or will we have a big time jump?

So many questions, and only you have the answers, Nivi.

Favourite lines/quotes:

The moon shines against Azzi’s face and Paige thinks that so much has changed, but Azzi’s still that kind of beautiful

“Do you know what my answer would have been?” “Yeah,” Azzi says softly, squeezing her hands, “yeah I do.”

Alternate lyrics that came to mind while reading:

Talk about our future like we had a clue. Never planned that one day, I'd be losing you.

In another life, I would be your girl. We'd keep all our promises, be us against the world.

Oh, and in honour of your love for Taylor, a Taylor lyric that came to mind was specifically this:

And I can go anywhere I want. Anywhere I want, just not home - mainly from the perspective of Paige getting almost everything she’s ever wanted, except the thing she wants most.

PS: I don’t really listen to Taylor’s music much anymore (nothing negative, just a shift in my music tastes these past couple of years!), but if there’s anything you think I should definitely give a listen to from her latest album, let me know!

As always, thank you for all you do for us. Have a wonderful weekend 💗

Much love, -🙋‍♀️

Hi bestie, one thing about me is that I will find a way to make it worse! 🤪

Thank you my sweets, it always means the world <3

I'm glad you caught that because I wanted to hint at the idea that it wasn't just a random decision of Azzi's part to choose UCLA and that she'd always been considering it.

If I can add Drew and Paige interactions, best believe I will find a way to do it. That's another relationship that's so precious to me.

Shoutout to the one anon who asked for Azzi to wear Paige's jersey in the universe as well because I took that and ran with it so I hope they liked it, because I liked their idea (come say hi!)

The team scene was one my favorites to write honestly, especially just in general KK is so fun to write because she's so fun and I need my chaotic family (Paige-Azzi-KK-Ice) to be a thing in every universe.

YES the piggybacks are just so Pazzi-core and I know this is an au but I like to take things from what we already know about them and just tweak it to keep some semblance of realism. Also piggyback are just really cute and Paige seems like the kind to beg literally anyone to carry her anyways

Things will get better because I actually don't know if they can get worse (actually they probably could but it might be hard to come back from lol) but things getting better is gonna take a lot

See if Paige changes her mind and declares, things become easy for them with her going to LA and I'm not in the business of making things easy for them lol

You think I have the answer to these question but truly what I write is just as much a mystery of where my inspiration will take to me as it is to you. So we'll see but we're on the ascent upwards, so no more other people lol!

I LOVE THE ONE THAT GOT AWAY SO MUCH!!

As for Taylor, the new album's pretty good babes if you wanna go listen! Lowkey a lot of the songs work pretty well with this fic lmao. But my favorites are loml and Fortnight I think.

Always love your detailed takes on the new parts and just seeing you in my inbox always makes me smile <3

[redsbrainrot]

My Review on the Miraculous Movie

I’ve divided the review into sections with a final personal statement on it at the end. Spoilers ahead!!! Obviously.

Animation: 10/10

Absolutely gorgeous. Probably the most stunning animated film I’ve ever seen. The glow, the mist, the kwamis, the setting, fucking exceptional. Chloe’s hair especially was gorgeous. The sheer amount of detail that went into every frame is admirable. Everyone who worked on the animation deserves a massive raise.

Character Designs: 9/10

Of course most of the characters remained the same, besides the change in animation style. Like I mentioned above, I adored Chloe’s hair. Her dress at the end of the movie was also so glamorous. Marinette’s ladybug themed dress suited her so well, she looked beautiful.

The Mime and the Magician are also worth mentioning. Mime was so buff? Definitely gonna end up on thirst edits on TikTok. The magician too… very thicc…

Gabriel all disheveled waiting for Adrien to come home was so weird to see. But I liked it. His Hawkmoth suit as well was so refreshing. I couldn’t stand Shadowmoth and Monarch in seasons 4 and 5. Nice to see him again. The wings on the final fight too, mesmerising.

Emilie looked extremely different from her version in the show. I’m not sure which version I prefer. I loved her curly ponytail when she was on the stage.

Characters dialogue/actions: 6/10

Unfortunately I did have some problems with some of the minor behaviour changes in some of the characters. Specifically Adrien and Plagg. Plagg was funny in some parts (didn’t know Kwami’s could get gassy) but in others he was a bit of a dick? I can’t really explain it but there was just an off vibe with him.

Adrien also was slightly different. I actually loved seeing him stand up to Gabriel. Very much needed. I didn’t really like how distant he was with Marinette for most of the film. The Adrien we know and love from the series finds her awkwardness funny and I quote, “charming”. This was less so implied in the film. He was weirded out.

Chat Noir being extra cocky when he first met Ladybug was fucking hilarious though, I loved it. Made me giggle.

Pacing: 7/10

The pacing was mostly good… aside from the Adrienette scenes. They felt rushed. That’s all I really have to comment on this part. The film wasn’t slow though, which is a massive problem in the industry these days. I like how you were just thrown straight into it, no waiting around. As someone who zones out a fair bit, and very easily, I didn’t find the film drawn out.

Voice acting: 10/10

Exceptional. The voice actors never fail to disappoint. Especially Bryce Papenbrook and Keith Silverstein. Bryce singing “Cat Noir” in the Notre Dame scene was so funny.

And I’m sorry, Keith Silverstein’s fucking singing? I’m gonna dedicate a section to the singing but come on, worth mentioning here too.

The ending where he finds out his son is Chat Noir, made me sob. It was so well animated and acted, that I was uncontrollably sobbing.

Christina Vee also never fails to amaze me.

Chloe did sound different in this film, but it was somewhat refreshing. Her tone was less whiney like it became in season 4 and 5 of the show (I blame the writing for that though).

Songs/Singing: 7/10

I feel slightly conflicted on this subject.

Yes, the singing is good. The songs didn’t make me cringe like most musicals do. Will definitely be listening to Hawkmoth’s song again.

However… the drastic change between Marinette’s dialogue and her singing was hard to take seriously. I wish they voice matched her a little better. Adrien’s sounded different too, but it was more believable than Marinette’s. I had Monster High flashbacks from …that… film.

ANYWAY Keith FUCKING Silverstein? My jaw DROPPED. Fucking amazing.

Same with Tikki! Her singing parts were so enjoyable.

Story: 8/10

Overall, the story is good. There are some tweaks I would personally make. But I definitely prefer Jeremy ZAG’s version over Astruc’s. While there are some beautiful plots and stories lurking about in Astruc’s version, if I had to choose, I would pick ZAG’s take on it.

I will make a likes and dislikes list on some of the changes.

Likes:

- Adrien actually says “my mum died”. In the show he always just says “disappeared” or “went away”. I’m not sure if that’s just some odd Disney censorship though. But in this version, he actually says she’s dead.

- Chloe. Just Chloe. She was kind of iconic. Wasn’t over the top like she is in the show.

- Subtle hints of Nino’s feelings for Alya. They weren’t completely subtle obviously, but I like the simplicity.

- Gabriel having a fucking bob, HAHAHSHAH.

- Emilie Agrest being a stage actor

- “Watermelon”.

- Plagg being gassy

- Adrien having balls and yelling at his dad

- The way the butterfly miraculous was portrayed

- Careless whisper

- Gabriel finding out his son his Chat Noir. Like, that is the best. His reaction was beautiful, in a way? I don’t like how in the show he got off basically scot-free, and never found out his son was the hero he was fighting against, and vice versa.

Dislikes:

- Marinette having 0 friends… not even Rose, Juleka and Mylene. Sick of the loser hero trope.

- Plagg being a little condescending towards Adrien

- Adrien rejecting Marinette after Ladybug rejected him - like bestie go for the opportunity to discover new things with someone else

Overall rating: 7.5/10

Felt like 7 was too low, but 8 was too high. Don’t get me wrong, I love this film. I’ve already watched it multiple times by the time I’ve written this. Now I look at films with two different perspectives: average viewer and critic. So my final ratings always have a fair balance. If the film has a good premise, I usually enjoy it. It’s the execution of it that really matters however.

I’ve always thought miraculous has a good premise. The execution in the show… is another review I can make. In the film, it’s certainly improved. Not perfect, but improved. What made the film so great came down to the animation, songs, and character interactions. The changes made impacted the film massively, and I love most of them.

The ending where Adrien and Marinette go to kiss and then it cuts to “the end” was very rage inducing. Personally I can’t stand those types of teasing. However the next scene with Nathalie, made up for that. Having the film end on sort of a cliffhanger was unexpected I must say. I knew they’d tease at Emilie being under the Agrest mansion, but not in the way they did. Plus, she was wearing the peacock miraculous. I loved that. Even with the reveal of identities they’ve still left room for a sequel. For this franchise, I don’t think a sequel to the movie will hurt. It can’t be nowhere near as messy as the series, as the film has already proved it is not.

To anyone, in or out of the fandom, I recommend you watch the film. Definitely worth it.

[chaoticgoodlawyerwrites]

Sneak Peak for HSY Ch 9

Hey folks! As expected, the past month has been particularly challenging. To quote one of my favorite song at the moment, "I'm on my last fucking leg." I hope you enjoy this snippet of the chapter to come!

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Luo Binghe held Shen Yuan’s hand as they entered the throne room. The cavernous space went instantly silent as his husband, Empress, beloved and equal stood beside him, powerful and precious and unique. He had been sure to dress them in imperial colors but conceded to Shen Yuan’s preference for his usual style of robes rather than anything more complicated. But diamonds and rubies surrounded the rare black heart stone of the Hidden Desert Tar Dragon which decorated his husband’s hair. He had slain the beast specifically for the centerpiece of his Empress’ crown and the result in his moonlit hair was breathtaking. 

Black fan decorated with red lotus’ held at his waist, Shen Yuan held his head high as he looked over his subjects for the first time. Luo Binghe led him to their dais and twin thrones, awed and so very proud to be his husband, to be able to give him this. Whether he wanted it or not, Shen Yuan deserved a kingdom of his own. Should not all who swore loyalty to Luo Binghe bend a knee to the man he loved above all? To the one who had supported the realm without knowing and who carried its heir?

Binghe was the most powerful being in this world, and he was weak to the man beside him. There was no higher honor for him than to be Shen Yuan’s husband and father of his child.

The court knew well enough what was expected of it. The last few weeks had been busy for Luo Binghe as he announced his impending wedding and dissolution of his harem. He had hoped to have it be a surprise for when Shen Yuan finally arrived here, but his younger counterpart had pushed him to reveal it sooner than he had wanted. He had no need of the women he had married, and most of them had no need of him outside of financial and physical security. He gave them all stipends and the ones who were loyal and wished to serve the realm were welcome to join his administration. 

There were exceptions, of course. The Little Palace Mistress was not amenable to being divorced or there being an Empress who was not her. He asked her if she would attempt to harm his Empress and she immediately said yes. 

It wasn’t his fault she was too much of a fool to understand he would kill her for that.

She had been one of his “favorite” wives (whatever that meant now), so her death set an example to others. They bowed out gracefully, while others were eager to learn what they could actually do rather than sit around and look pretty. 

The most competent of them would be the first to greet their Empress, with the exception of Mobei-Jun. His general was elsewhere at the moment.

Shen Yuan fanned himself lightly and said, silently with their ongoing communication spell, “Do they know I’m pregnant?”

“No,” he promised him. “I wished to wait until you wanted to make the announcement.”

Shen Yuan didn’t respond to that beyond lightly squeezing Binghe’s fingers. He led them up the few necessary stairs to their thrones and then stopped in front of them, with Shen Yuan standing to his right. 

He turned to the assembled demon and human nobles and grinned. “This Lord is proud to present Empress Shen Qingqiu to his court. He is this Lord’s first and only husband, his equal. An insult to him is an insult to this Lord, and will be less tolerated. His word is law. He is sovereign here and all are expected to swear an oath of fealty to him.

“Now, greet your Empress.”

Most of the room got to their knees and kowtowed to the throne, intoning, “Greetings, Empress Shen.”

But a few did not. The most powerful of Luo Binghe’s vassals, even one of his governors recalled for the occasion, did not bow to Shen Yuan. 

And that enraged him.

“You dare?” He said quietly, his voice carrying enough malice to make people shiver in fear despite the low volume. 

“Husband.” Luo Binghe looked at Shen Yuan who seemed contemplative.

“Yes?”

“These are the ones who you conquered by force, yes?” He, rather impressively, listed the names of the lords standing and their kingdoms accurately. “They only obeyed when forced, correct?”

“My Empress is wise,” he said, just a bit intimidated by Shen Yuan’s ability to recall details considering that he had never spoken in detail about every principality and dominion represented by the still standing demons.

“Hmm,” Shen Yuan closed his fan and tapped it against his chin for a moment, eyes surveying the court. Then, astonishingly, he said lightly, “Which of them is the least useful to us at the moment?”

A ripple of unease went through the room as Luo Binghe thought through the question, trusting Shen Yuan to know what he was doing. It took a moment, but Luo Binghe landed on saying, “Donghai-Jun.”

Luo Binghe had kept a close eye on the trade in the east after conquering the sea-faring clan, knowing their loyalty changed with the shifting tides. Once he understood who Shen Yuan would be to him, he worked to secretly undermine their dominance of control in the region, needing to be able to wipe them out in a moment if they proved troublesome. 

Now, their presence in court was at his pleasure. They were aware of a decrease in local business but not the extent to which Luo Binghe had trapped them in their own web of lies and loyalties. He could make use of others, but them? A liability in waiting but one he would let survive as long as they stayed in line.

Refusing to bow to his Empress was not what he considered obedient.

“Very well. This Lord challenges Donghai-Jun to a duel.”

What.

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Stand-up shows I’ve seen in the last few days:

David O’Doherty – hour-long set at Access Festival 2024

This was lovely, as I’d expected and looked forward to. I don’t think it matched any particular Edinburgh show he did, as it was a mix of old and new material. Or at least, it was a mix of stuff by him that I knew already and stuff I didn’t. I don’t know how new the stuff I didn’t recognize was, because I haven’t found a recording of any of his stand-up since 2020. So this had some stuff from his 2020 album (which was meant to be his 2020 tour show, but then wasn’t, because of you know, the thing) and some stuff from some general time more recent than that.

I enjoyed it so much. I think DO’D’s style, of being just easygoing and open and warm and all those other nice words (but there is an edge and a depth to a lot of his stuff, and almost none of what he does can accurately be called “whimsical”, as I’d like to tell some of the people who review him), is pretty nicely suited to Zoom gigs. Comedy shows that are just one person performing to a camera are often fucking awkward, but DO’D seems so comfortable with what he’s doing that it’s really easy to forget about the awkwardness of it and just feel like you’re sitting in his living room listening to his stories. It gives me the same feeling that I get when I listen to all his comedy albums, which is that something about the way DO’D talks make it impossible to have your guard up when you listen to him. You just relax and enjoy it, and sometimes he uses that to make it more of a surprise when he turns up the tension, and to create that effect he must be doing all kinds of things that I can’t even recognize but I enjoy it so much.

This show had a mix of things. He did his History of Ireland routine that he also did on that one Bugle episode and is excellent. Some stuff about his father that I’d heard before, but also some stuff that I hadn’t heard before, so that was interesting. A sprinkling of references to a breakup, but only a sprinkling. That mouse song from his 2020 album. I think my favourite part of it that I’d not heard before was a song about things being inconvenient that started out mundane and then went pretty dark and climate change-y, progressing at a DO’D-esque pace. A little bit of musing on cultural toxic masculinity stuff. A new one to add to his rolodex of stories about the weirdly specific level of fame he has and what it’s like to get sort of recognized sometimes. And closed with the beefs song, as usual. Classic DO’D.

He's one whom I really, really hope does week 1 in Edinburgh this year, as that’s when I’ll be there. Very high on my list of people I’d most like to see live. But in the meantime, I wish he’d do more recorded gigs because he really is good at it. Just sitting comfortably and making it feel like he’s chatting with the audience, as opposed to a lot of comedians who talk really awkwardly into the camera during Zoom gigs like this is the weirdest thing in the world (to be fair, it is the weirdest thing it the world, I can’t blame most people for not having DO’D’s level of charm). Not to mention any specific names of people who do that or anything, but this week I did also watch:

The guys from Crizards split an hour, each did 30 minutes of individual material while staring really awkwardly into their respective cameras – Access Festival 2024:

It was all right. They were both all right. I like the Crizards show on YouTube and would watch another if they put it up but don’t need to go looking for more of their solo stuff.

Sarah Keyworth – Access Festival 2024

They did their 2024 show, which they’ve been working on for the last few months, and it was fucking great, I highly recommend anyone who likes this sort of thing to check it out. They filmed this the same way as last year’s Access Festival gig, and with the same sort of intense energy. Not the DO’D ease with the webcam, but not the awkwardness of a lot of other comedians either, their strategy seemed to just be really earnest and acknowledge the circumstances get the audience on their side, and it worked well both times I’ve seen them do it (Access Festival 2023 and 2024).

I’d heard bits of the material from this show before, in more disjointed forms, and it had all made me laugh a lot on its own. But at the Access Festival they did the full hour, where they tied it together and gave it a bit more of a structure and ended on some really nice callbacks, and it was just great. Really consistently funny, all the way through.

The hour covers a bunch of topics: stuff about their parents and siblings, growing up, top surgery, family stuff, coming out as non-binary, ADHD, bit of culture war stuff but dealt with in a non-tiresome way, lesbian foursomes, a number of other things. They managed to connect almost all of it to these nice themes about acceptance and what individual identity means within a community, it builds to an ending that was really nice. It’s just great. Also their whole presence is really engaging and hard to look away from, even though the awkwardness of a Zoom gig, it’s pretty good that they could have that much stage presence while sitting alone in a room talking to a webcam (I really do mean… genuinely, it’s their captivating stage presence that I’m complimenting when I say they’re a performer that’s hard to look away from, the fact that they’re extremely attractive is a separate issue).

Jessica Fostekew – Wench (2022 show that was just released by 800 Pound Gorilla)

I wrote the other day about the giant comedy folder that lives on my external hard drive, and how I can judge how much I like a comedian by how many files are in their dedicated sub-folder. I also said this rule doesn’t apply every time, and Jessica Fostekew is an example of where it really, really doesn’t. Because I only have three files in her folder: her 2018 show Silence of the Nans, her 2019 show Hench, and now her 2022 show Wench. But they were all fucking fantastic. She has to be one of the comedians with the highest ratio of how few things I have in her folder, to how much I like the things that are there. I should really check out more of her stuff.

I think Wench is my favourite show of the three, which is saying something because the other two were great. This is the first show I’ve heard her do since coming out as queer, so that’s fun, and Wench has a fair bit about that in there. Both in the form of just domestic stories about her female fiancée, and some stuff about queer identity labels and coming out and dealing with blatant homophobia as well as well-meaning ignorance.

Oh, and she did a bunch of jokes on a topic that I happen to always find hilarious, which is people asking “How do lesbians have sex?” I’m not sure if that’s still as common a question as it used to be, but in my early twenties, I used to get asked that question so often that it happened three separate times within a few years that someone asked me “Can I ask you, as a gay woman, a question?” and I, having heard this many times before and knowing what it leads to, said “I can save you the trouble of asking, the answer is with their fingers” and on two of the three times I had, in fact, correctly predicted what the question was going to be. Which I thought was the funniest thing in the world. Oh, that was also the time when it was a really common meme, at least in lesbian corners of the internet (by which I mean the Autostraddle and After Ellen websites), to take any screenshot of any two women interacting with each other in any slightly weird way and caption it “This is how lesbians have sex”. Which I also think is one of the funniest memes to cross the internet in my life so far. I don’t why I’ve always found that such a funny topic, but it’s been a while since I’ve heard jokes about it (probably because the world’s gotten more progressive and people don’t feel as comfortable asking gay women that question anymore, which is good and all, but it’s a shame it had to come at the expense of queer women getting to make jokes about the daftness of that question), so I enjoyed Jessica Fostekew bringing it back.

Anyway. The comedy show was great. She is so sharp, so incisive, can jump so fast from jokes about spraying cats with water to jokes about sex to jokes about horrifically homophobic politicians, from funny stories about her neighbours to angry rally-crying feminist screeds, and I enjoy every bit of it. Her ability to jump from one of those things to another is a bit Kiri-Pritchard McLean-esque, I think, and I mean that as high praise. It all came together nicely, it was a great hour.

Christopher McArthur Boyd – Oh No (2022 show that was just released by 800 Pound Gorilla)

To be honest, I think I went into this one with expectations that were too high, because I’d read that he was really really good, so I was a bit disappointed when the beginning of this show was fairly mundane. But it picked up once I got into it, and I liked the second half a lot better than the first. None of it made me actually laugh out loud, but he hit on some good topics and said some funny things and I see why he’s doing well. I’m definitely interested in seeing more things he’s done.

By the way, to make it a very Glasgow day, I happened to watch MacArthur Boyd just after listening to Susie McCabe’s episode of the Comedian’s Comedian podcast, which just came out the other day and it was great. She’s excellent, I could listen to her talk all day and I wish she’d released more of her stand-up.

[writingwife-83]

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

🍉in what ways has writing helped you process trauma and/or navigate through your own life?

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

🤍what's one fic of yours you think people didn't "get"?

🕯️was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you?

🍭why did you start writing?

💎why is writing important to you?

I'm sorry for asking so many questions 😆🫣

No worries, I’ll tackle them! 😉 (and I’ll go with reylo answers if it’s for specific fics)

✨& 🌈- I’m combining these two questions because I think I want to say Slow Dancing in a Burning Room for both. I did work hard on this plot, including little nods to canon along with feels and angst and then bringing the whole thing full circle at the end in a way that (at least imo) was nice and satisfying. I feel like it’s one of my better reylo multi chapters but others of mine definitely did better. Idk, I kinda wonder what made that one less appealing. 🤷‍♀️

🍉- my short and honest answer to this is that it hasn’t. I love writing and it’s a healthy hobby for me, but it’s still not what helps me navigate the big and scary parts of life.

🎈- I tend to think my style doesn’t change. Idk how I’d describe my style, but I do usually focus mostly on what’s going on inside character’s heads and on dialogue.

🤍- I guess maybe I’d have to say I’m Ready to be Heartbroken, which is a longer one shot. It was a modern au inspired by the movie P.S. I Love You. I won’t get into the whole movie, but iykyk. It’s very bittersweet. 😭 I felt like I got the au right, and even though it wasn’t a fic that “fixed” the loss of Ben, it was meant to be cathartic and satisfying despite the tragedy. I get that’s not for everyone.

🕯️- I think I’d have to say no.

🍭- I guess it was just… in me? 😆 If you’re a natural writer I think those plots and ideas are forming from a very young age. Everything you see and read and hear gives a drive to create instead of simply entertaining you. So it was only a matter of time before the words went to paper.

💎- again, I think it’s just cuz it’s something that’s in me and it’s satisfying to use be able to enjoy it. I don’t have a ton of creative outlets, so I make the most of writing. I think it keeps my mind active too, and it can’t hurt to have a hobby like that, seeing as I’m rapidly approaching Middle Age lol.

Thanks for asking!

[arhddhg]

stan + kyle + kenny for the character ask game!! :)

Oooooh, this is going to be a long one.. I always thought that my view of the South Park characters were pretty boring so here are my first impressions:

Kyle broflovski

Sexuality Headcanon: I personally think he’s straight, I feel like I’ll get a lot of shame because of this but I never really saw him as a bisexual man let alone a gay man😭 I’m so sorry. But on one hand I do kind of see him being a Demisexual? I don’t know if there is really that much evidence to it but I feel like him being Demisexual. I can also see Asexual Kyle too? I think he’s straight but definitely not allo.

Gender Headcanon: I think he’s a cis man, but trans boy Kyle sounds like a good headcanon? It mostly rooted from Cartman’s sexist jokes but it sounds pretty cool, I’m down for more trans rep! Even if it’s from canonically cis characters..

A ship I have with said character: Kybecca is so fuckwg cute !!!!!!! The way Kyle guides her into relationships was adorable. I also like the dynamic of a shy awkward inexperienced-in-relationships girl and a nice (a genuinely nice) guy who helps her out when it comes to relationships!!! Fucking blorbos.. I want to hold them around like 2 little kittens :( I also really see the potential in Kychole and I wish it got more recognition, it would’ve been an actually great chance for him to get a girlfriend, fuck you Cartman, like honestly.

A BROTP I have with said character: It’s probably going to be Style, of course. Their friendship is honestly very cute to watch, but it can also get a bit sad at times (ex: assburgers). I also like Tokyle, Kyutters, and Kybe as a brotp. Tolkien and Kyle being mom best friends, looking over at their insane children fighting like little chihuahuas, while talking about mom things.. hwoedhsj. And also Kyle and Bebe being best friends gossiping to each other and spilling the tea (this wasn’t my idea though). I’m a bit stuck towards Kyutters though, cause I only thought of it just now.

A NOTP I have with said character: I used to like this ship A LOT, but now I have to say it’s Kyman. I can still see the potential in One sided Kyman and I always saw it being a thing somehow, but that’s as far as I’ll go for this ship nowadays. Kyman just feels weird, and all it took was a couple of callout posts for me to eventually lose interest in it.

A random headcanon: Kyle is the most simplest guy EVER. His music taste isn’t a specific genre and it all goes down to “well I like music as long as it sounds good”. He doesn’t like a specific type of food and is just like “I like any food as long as it’s good”. He’s the least fashionable and most distasteful guy in town, and his friends (the main 4 ofc) attempted to try and get him into fashion and introduce him to different kinds of genres (whether it be music, movies, or whatever) to see which one he’d consider to be his favorite. But it NEVER worked out, he’s just that boring. (Yeah, I’m projecting onto him, what about it)?

General Opinion over said character: He’s honestly such a well developed character, he’s not exactly my fave but I can definitely understand his popularity and place in this fandom! He’s just a lil guy :)

Stanley marsh

Sexuality headcanon: I think he’s either straight or bisexual, but all I know is that he definitely went through a bicurious phase. Remember how confused he was when Wendy turned out to be trans? He was also confused about Tweek and Craig’s whole relationship! He doesn’t know where he stands on the LGBT spec but he’s still trying to figure it out.

Gender headcanon: I only thought of this just now but demiboy Stan. I also like to think he’s experimenting with his gender, and it goes down to the examples I listed trying to describe his sexuality from my perspective. He’s open to people using any pronouns on him, and I love that for him :)

A ship I have with said character: Stendy, I remember drawing Stendy A LOT over here. I still love their relationship but not as much as I used to. Although, I have to say that I still yearn for their good ol’ girlboss and malewife dynamic.. I would also consider Stolkien because their current relationship reminds me of a forbidden romance, it’s honestly interesting to look at it that way. I like to think he tries to get together with Tolkien in an attempt to open more doors for relationships, relating to his whole bicurious and gender questioning thing.

A BROTP I have with said character: Just like the brotp I have for Kyle, it’s Style. I also really like Stary as a friendship. I honestly hope that Gary might make a comeback and Stan would spend more time with him, while the rest of the main 4 gets absolutely mad they are hanging out with such a “wuss” and not with them instead >:( but unfortunately Gary is just a one and off character.

A NOTP I have with said character: I honestly don’t know what notp I have for him, I don’t seem to have any Stan ship that I actually loathe. I’m pretty sure I stated before that I LOVE ships featuring stan despite him not being my fave. Which is a bit weird to think about, but I’ll just leave it as a mere coincidence for now.

A random headcanon: Despite the fact that Stan’s goth phase was supposed to happen because of the fact Wendy broke up with him, he actually developed an interest in the goth style and still (secretly) hangs out with the goth kids. The goth kids don’t seem to mind being around him and they’re nice enough to actually guide him through the goth style! Stan REALLY enjoyed getting into it and the goth kids developed a soft spot for him, they’re a bunch of softies on the inside :( Stan would also wear a bunch of edgy black t shirts under his jacket because he just got soooooo into it. And his friends still don’t know about it, his interest in goth culture is still a secret, mostly out of fear of being ripped on.

General Opinion over said character: I honestly like him because he slightly reminds me of myself? We aren’t ENTIRELY similar but I can see myself in him. I also find a lot of his ships tasteful.

Kenny McCormick

Sexuality headcanon: I used to think he was a straight aromantic but now I can see him being pansexual, like I’m pretty sure he would love ANYTHING with titties. Him being a closeted pansexual aro is honestly very swaggy in my book. I say closeted because he literally lives in a family of rednecks, I think he’ll have to deal with a lot of internalized homophobia here. And I think it’s interesting to explore that in him! (The internalized homophobia idea was again not mine).

Gender headcanon: he’s a cis GNC man, he’s perfectly fine with identifying as a man but he loves dressing up as a princess, and he still does it from time to time!

A ship I have with said character: I don’t think I have any ship with him aside from Kenman. Their dynamic works very well and the way they laugh at each other’s jokes is so fuckeng adorable. I think their friendship should be explored more often, both in the actual show and in the fandom. There is a lot to unpack there. And also the way they carry a BFF necklace, adorable.

A BROTP I have with said character: Kenman again (I like it both romantically and platonically). I’m not used to ships with Kenny in them so I’m sorry if this is EXTREMELY bland.

A NOTP I have with said character: I’m sorry to say this but I never really found Bunny interesting.. that’s all I have to say, I’m sorry if that disappoints any of you.

Random headcanon: speaking of Kenny loving to dress as a princess, he sometimes roleplays as princesses with his little sister Karen, they come up with the most dramatic storylines ever and Kevin gets so annoyed by it sometimes and tells them to shut up. This one time Kenny and Karen stayed up all night playing dress up and they talked so loudly, that everyone woke up by the stupid annoying sounds they made. They never stopped doing it, and it was hell on earth for everyone else aside from these 2 mfs >:) I think there was also a point where all the other people around them heard it, but it was rather faint, so it took a while for everyone else to notice the loudness of it all.

General Opinion over said character: I never really thought about him, so my impression of him is a bit boring. But I’m hoping to dig more into his character if that’s what you guys want!

__________

Thank you so much for the question, it honestly got me to think more about the character’s personalities! :)

[adelaidedrubman]

part iii of the supernatural au. part i | part ii | read on ao3.

notes: vampire!john/werewolf!jestiny back at it. i know it’s officially past spooky season, but since i did already have the rough draft of part three from posting a version of it last year, i still wanted to finish up the redux now <;33

word count: 7k

warnings: explicit nsfw in this one. vampire/werewolf styles, so extra warnings for ample biting/scratching/blood drinking during. dw no one goes full furry. johnjess styles, so semi-public. and the usual warnings for mutual emotional manipulation. john’s is at points specifically geared towards fostering dependence in jessie so as to keep her with him, so it probably deserves an extra warning on his end. jessie’s is at points specifically geared towards degrading john to purposefully cause psychological distress in order to maintain perceived control in their relationship, so it probably deserves an extra warning on — you know what they’re both just awful and shouldn’t be near each other. enjoy. 

“In absolutely no way, shape, or form are you even remotely ready for this!” John hissed under his breath as he paced behind the redhead, grateful the tight cinching at the waist of the cotton dress she wore at least prevented her from transforming to outrun him if she hoped to preserve it. 

“Yes,” she barked, throwing her arms up in frustration but not turning around. “I am!” 

“You are not,” he spat back, slinking up to her side to march in step with her as she rounded the corner to turn onto the road leading through Fall’s End. “Not even close.” 

“I am fuckin’ too,” she tossed her head to the side to snap at him. “I’ve listened to your fucking human lessons for a full fuckin’ week like we agreed.” She jerked her wrist away as he tried to reach for it, increasing the speed of her gait but still resisting any impulse she might have to transform for the time being. 

Fuck, he almost wished she would lose control and shift into wolf form — at least then he would be proven right before it was too late. And her outfit would be ruined, so she’d have no choice but to come home with him rather than continue venturing into town. 

“Over a week,” she added in snippy half growl, officially bringing those extra days that had been hanging uncomfortably over his head crashing down, that sinking knowledge that he was on borrowed time as he basked in her presence. “I’m ready!” 

“You most certainly are not,” he reiterated firmly. 

Yes, a transformation, that’s what he would have to go with. Find a a way to provoke her, make her angry enough to change forms, then herd her back home where she’d be safe, and remind her why she needed to stay there and listen to him. It was risky in and of itself given how close to town they were, and the fact at least some residents were already on alert for werewolf sightings. But it was still less risky than the alternative, and wouldn’t involve hypnotizing her. Not technically. 

“Perhaps you would be ready for a small date at some other bar or restaurant, which I would be happy to oblige,” he continued, hurrying along to better watch her reactions. “But not the Spread Eagle, and not all by yourself,” he said, happy to see her upper lip curl in irritation, a sign her resolve was beginning to break. “Which is what you would be, by the way — I wasn’t lying when I told you Mary May has never once agreed to invite me inside her establishment. I can’t go with you in there. You’d be completely alone!” 

“Good!” she shouted, fists balled at her sides tightly enough he couldn’t gauge the length of her claws. “I don’t need you!” she yelled while continuing to stomp forward, causing his chest to flurry with panic as she sped straight past the ‘Welcome to Fall’s End’ sign without hesitation. “You said yourself, this fuckin’ morning — and I quote — that I look indistinguishable from a normal human the way I’m dressed today!” 

“Looking human isn’t even half the battle, my dear,” he replied with a sneer, making a point of using the term of endearment she so detested. “Your appearance may pass for human, but you’re not nearly well behaved enough to go out on your own.” 

“I know how to fucking behave!” she finally spun around to yell, waving hands angrily in the air — disappointingly, with her claws still retracted. Damn. “Go ahead, quiz me,” she challenged, halting to stand still, posture stiff and tall with determination. “Ask me any human manners shit you want.” 

He scoffed, crossing his arms and shaking his head dismissively. Obviously he wasn’t going to prove anything that way — she had been a shockingly adept and speedy learner, despite her unwillingness to take him seriously. He doubted there was anything he could really ask her that she wouldn’t know. 

“Knowing the technicalities of how to behave isn’t exactly the issue either,” he droned in reply, attempting to conceal his worry with a mimic of snide boredom. “The issue is you actually being able to control yourself to conform to appropriate behavior.” 

Her jaw dropped, her brow tensing in angry disbelief at the assertion as she spun back around to resume storming down the main road towards the heart of town. 

“I have ample fuckin’ self control!” she screamed at him, loud enough to echo through the empty streets. “As is evidenced by the fact I haven’t fuckin’ torn you to fucking shreds yet!” 

“Oh, yes, your discipline is simply irreproachable,” he evened his breath to coo with contrasting calm as he hustled to catch up to her again, growing all the more satisfied with the reaction he was coaxing. “We haven’t even gotten to the bar yet, and you’re already managing to make an angry scene.” 

She skidded to a stop, this time just in front of the church near the edge of town (intentional? spiteful, spiteful thing) before spinning back towards the roadway with a flourish of her skirt to face him with a contrived closed lipped smile and narrowed eyes. 

“Any reasonable human being would be pushed to the point of near violence having to deal with you,” she drawled, a mockery of venomous politeness stretching out the words in her mouth as she folded her arms over her chest. “I would be perfectly calm and controlled if you weren’t around to bother me.” 

“Would you?” he chimed, matching the drawn out rise of her faux friendliness and mirroring her posture to fix onto his own body: crossing arms over his chest, pursing his lips to curl into a pert smile, adding the finishing touch of bending at the waist to lean over her — remind her that he was still larger than her when she wasn’t transformed, sure to anger her enough that she would do so. 

She settled for taking a step back, darting through the opening of the gray stone fencing to retreat onto the church grounds. 

Lovely, so they were back to this little dance again — this time with the threat of luring him into the hallowed ground of the chapel rather than sunlight. But he wasn’t going to fall for that a second time, anyways. Or allow the vindictive little beast to provoke him while he was working to provoke her. And she was so much more given to provocation. 

He took an encroaching step forward, pausing just past the stone perimeter. He paused, reaching to suddenly clutch his chest and feigning a gasp, as if the intrusion onto holy ground had actually wounded him, holding the hand there as his chest boomed with laughter instead. 

(And he swore he saw, as he did so, each flutter of expression lightening fast enough to be missed by mortal eyes: the little wolf girl grin victoriously, then her nose twitch with surprise, then her brow furrow with worry, then harden into anger, then her face styled itself back into contrived politeness. Oh, but he saw, and he knew she cared, that she wanted to stay with him — she was just too stubborn to admit as much on her own.) 

“So you’d be using your most polished manners if I weren’t present, then?” he pressed, shaking off a hum of laughter with the words. “That’s strange, I believe I recall watching you break human form to chase a squirrel just this morning, whilst I was nowhere near you.” He waved a hand between them, as if in dismissal of the thought. “But I’m sure you’ll be fine, so long as I’m not around — and Mary May is up to code on pest control.” 

“She must be, if she’s managing to keep you outta there,” Jessie growled, artificial smile falling once again as her features scrunched in annoyance. Good. “And besides, the squirrel thing was different. I was on my own lawn.” 

“You were actually on my lawn, my dear,” he replied with a demure rise he knew would irritate her, lifting his hand to leave only fingertips pressed to his chest. 

“Well I marked it,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes and taking a more measured step backward. Let the little thing hole up in a church all night in an effort to frustrate him, fine by him. “Doesn’t smell like your lawn.” 

“The mere fact you think that’s determinative tells me you’re not ready for public appearances,” he retorted with a click of his tongue. 

He inched forward, subtly pushing her to better cover, hoping to help conceal any transformation he managed to coax. If he could just get the slightest flash of fangs or sprouting of fur, something physical he could point to. 

“And the list could go on,” he continued, raising the fingertips from his chest. “Lunging at food, barking at sudden noises, snapping at me for the slightest annoyance.” He sighed, dropping the hand he’d been waving on beat with the examples. “I’m sure you know what you should do, but I’ve yet to see you exercise any amount of restraint that would convince me you’d actually successfully do it.” 

“Ooooh-hooo,” she forced out in a derisive laugh, arms now outstretched to her sides as she strode a longer pace back, retreating up the steps of the church and climbing until she towered at the top. “And I can learn it by hanging around you for longer?” she asked, a mocking curl returning to her lips. “Because you’re just the goddamn paragon of restraint and self-control?” 

“Why, yes,” he replied, following along to plant at the base of the steps without yet climbing, content to allow her to get off on having the high ground for now. “I would say my restraint and self-control are exemplary.” 

“Really?” she taunted in challenge, before flinging her arm to the side with a sharp whoosh of air and a quick flick of her fingers to extend claws outward on prominent display, poised for attack. 

“Oh, yes, bring out those claws!” he cried joyously, now hopeful he might even manage to lure her into taking a few swipes at him. It would give him an excuse to subdue her, at least. And while werewolf scratches did heal more slowly than mortal injuries, he could tolerate a few scrapes to get her back home, and away from that godforsaken bar. “That’ll show me how calm and controlled you are!” he exclaimed, turning his head to the side to expose his neck in offering, eyes darting to the corner of his lids to remain locked on her. “Go on, prove your point!” 

She growled, baring teeth but not yet lunging, not yet swinging the fully weaponized arm towards him. 

Instead, she lifted her chin in challenge and brought her claws to her own outstretched neck, holding steady eye contact with him as she slashed the talons along her skin. 

The smell hit him before his eyes even managed to process — that deep, rich scent soaking the air, coating the insides of his lungs the very second that skin broke. 

And he felt that swirling, aching hunger jolt through him as soon as the smell did hit, ratcheting through him so forcefully that his mind stayed even a step further behind his senses, leaving him staring dumbly in an overstimulated stupor as he finally registered the sight of a thin, deep slice running across her neck to release crimson droplets. 

The wound had already begun to heal by the time he bumbled along into proper understanding, skin weaving back together and thickening to seal the reservoir of fresh blood, the amount spilled already congealing and growing stale so that the sudden pain of hunger dulled as quickly as it rose in him, gnawing want turning in center. 

He closed the jaw he hadn’t consciously realized had dropped to allow his fangs to feel cool night air and her scent to settle on his tongue in a ghost of a real taste, trying to stall the ragged breaths he took as they became more tolerable, less intoxicating. 

“You are playing a very dangerous game, little wolf,” he hissed in warning, words still breathy and broken with need but strengthened with venom as hunger sharpened itself into anger upon understanding crystallizing inside him. She was strong, but he could drain her completely dry in one of her pitiful, fragile heartbeats, the ungrateful cur. 

“Now why fucking ever would that be?” she asked, brightened with sarcastic pleasantry and innocence. “Worried you won’t be able to control yourself?” she cooed before hiking a leg back to steady herself and fall propped against the siding of the church. 

She raised a clawed index and middle back to her neck, curling the fingers outward in taunt before jabbing directly into her jugular. She kept the sharpened ends inserted so that the wound couldn’t close itself, blood flowing freely and pooling around the points of nails. 

And before he could even coach himself to grow desensitized to the one sight, she escalated — adding to his torment by brushing her free hand along the bare thigh of her bent leg, pushing her skirt upward and gently scraping nails along her skin without breaking it. She inched closer and close in, leaving light pinkened trails in the wake of her claws before finally retracting them entirely — flaunting exactly how in control of her form she was as she left nails on the other hand protruding and buried in flesh, while she shoved her freshly declawed hand up her dress and beneath the waistband of her briefs. 

Fuck. 

His jaw trembled with the need to bite, irritating the sudden scratchy dryness of his throat desperate to be quenched by the sensation of the hot, thick liquid leaking and sliding down flesh laid before him. 

She was the cruelest monster he’d ever encountered. This was miserable, deplorable torture. Potent, crushing thirst now ached and buzzed through his very marrow, consuming every inch of his being. And the blood rushing between his legs made his veins feel all the more dreadfully hollowed and desperate to be filled, to be fed. 

And the vile creature orchestrating his suffering merely closed her eyes in smug satisfaction as she worked one hand pawing between her legs, the other staying faithfully in place at her neck, nails puncturing her in the prefect mimic of a bite he could give. ( — if he could just — ) Not to mention the blood rising to her cheeks to dust them pink — a sign of her body responding to her own pleasuring touch, and an image almost as deliciously tempting as the weeping rubies dripping down the lengths of her fingers. 

Her shaky breaths drowned out any other sound that might reach his ears, growing labored to match his own in quick, irregular rhythm. And every other available, supernaturally enhanced sense tuned to the blood slowly pouring from her neck — his eyes shaking with the strain of staying unblinking to gorge on the sight of velvety crimson painting her skin; his nose stinging with its heavy aroma as he gasped for air, as if he could fill himself on the scent alone. 

And the overwhelming desire to have with every sense finally grew too great, the need to taste the intoxicating flavor and feel wet warmth too powerful to resist as he bounded towards her in a single fluid swoop, pinning her against the wooden doors of the church as his mouth found her neck and his hips found the space between her legs. 

He burned with shame at how pathetic and needily he lapped at the crimson coating her throat while his hips rocked against her. He brushed her left hand out of the way to press his tongue directly against her wounds, grinding against her right in a frantic and uncaring rhythm as it stayed frustratingly nestled firm between her legs. 

And fuck her blood felt so good swallowed down. Like taking a shot of stiff liquor felt as a human, dizzying and stinging just right, spice lingering on his tongue and pooling warm in his stomach. He suckled hard at the column of her neck as the flow began to slow in healing, his tongue sliding along the entry points as he felt them close beneath his hungry licks. 

He trailed his tongue up and down the now closed and repaired expanse of her throat once it had sealed completely shut, searching for any stray drop to chase another hit of the taste and using his only remaining willpower to restrain himself from sinking teeth in to reopen her veins and feast properly. 

“Real fuckin’ big and in control, huh?” she teased in a playful rasp as he pulled away from her neck, mouth clamped tightly shut while his hips continued to jerk forward with need unsated. “Hanging off my neck like a leech and dry humping me against a church in the middle of town,” she observed with scolding mockery, drawing a low, pitiful whine from him. “That’s your idea of restraint?” 

“Y-You have no fucking idea,” he finally stuttered out, stomach tightening as his eyes trained on the heavy throb of her pulse, grinding his hips harder to stoke the smoldering pleasure from the friction to eclipse the ache of his more destructive hunger, “how much I’m actually controlling myself right now.” 

“Aw, are you?” she hummed with sarcastic pity, bringing the hand still coated with her blood to hover at his mouth. “Being a real good boy for me, huh?” she questioned, slicking her index quickly along his bottom lip to leave a trail of crimson, before jerking the fingers back to make him chase them. 

Which he did — with an embarrassing lack of hesitation — bobbing his head forward to swallow them, giving a muffled whimper of an mmhm in reply as he sucked the fingers clean, consuming the stale and tacky scraps of blood clinging to skin in a ravenous fury. He slid his tongue up and down along their lengths, curling along the sharp edges of her nails with little care for how they sliced him, desperate to lap the blood from every nook and cranny. 

And fuck he didn’t become even a touch less needy when she began pumping the fingers into his mouth in rhythm with the rocking of his hips against her, a delicious shiver traveling down his spine from the sensation of claws scraping the back of his tongue. 

John could feel himself reaching a breaking point, when that last thread of restraint would finally snap and his body would chase what it wanted of its own accord. His appetite for her had only been whetted by the sample of curdling blood now fading on his tongue, and the indirect friction along his hardness dulled by the thick fabric of his pants. The demand to experience her at full potency was raging through him, reducing the last of his resolve to ashes. 

“Fuck,” he cursed, jerking his hand down to undo the buttons of his pants, needing to feel the direct contact of his own touch if nothing else. He buried his brow in the crook of her neck with lingering shame as he exposed himself. “I need you, Jessie. Now,” he groaned in pleading admission. “Right now. I can’t take it anymore.” 

“Mm, can sure see that,” she purred, far too sweetly, thick and rumbling in some sick parody of sympathy. “Such a strong, powerful immortal. Alive all these centuries,” she mocked, trailing her saliva wettened claws along his collarbone. “And still just a needy little mess, huh?” 

She gave him no time to answer, scraping the claws up his neck to fist into his hair and pull, forcing him to look at her before she slid her other hand up from between her legs to once again thrust fingers into his mouth, this time giving him a taste of the slickness that had built inside her. He savored it just as sweetly, running his tongue along the wrinkled pads of her fingers to lick up every last drop. 

“Do you even know what you really want from me?” she asked as she hooked her leg around his waist, mercifully pulling him in closer despite her mockery, allowing him to feel the warm plump outline of her through the thin fabric of her underwear. “To suck me? Or fuck me?” 

“Y-Yes,” he gasped around her fingers — unsure exactly which question he was answering ‘yes’ to, only that it was all of it, he wanted to have all of it, anything she would give him. 

And he made no effort to wait and ask before diving forward to taste the one part of her he still needed to taste, covering the sweet rosy mouth still open in a taunt with his and darting tongue out to give a kiss as hungry as he felt. 

And there was no attempt at gentleness from either of them — all gnashing fangs and bruising pressure, consuming with greed and abandon. Every flavor of her coalesced and tingled along his tongue, the lingering tastes lapped from her fingers combining with the subtle, natural tang of her mouth. And he noted a moment later the more familiar taste of his own blood joining the cocktail, all the more aroused by the careless way her incisors scraped along gum as she met him in uncontrolled hunger. 

She wants it just as bad, he thought with a rough jerk of his hips, delighting in the sting of her teeth scratching the flesh of his mouth. She needs me too. 

“You want it too,” he whispered against her lips, reaching a hand up her skirt and pulling at the waistband of her briefs, ready to tear. “You want to fuck me, too. I know it,” he whined, tugging elastic in a request for permission. “So fucking wet, kiss me so fucking hard. So good,” he offered in clumsy explanation, littering kisses along her jawline. “You want it bad, too.” 

She didn’t agree, nor did she argue. The sounds falling from her lips never formed more than an encouraging groan as she bucked hips forward to meet him. 

“Jessie,” he sighed, slipping a thumb beneath her pantyline to tease, feel proof she was just as aroused with a light brush along slick folds, still waiting for the word to do more. “You want it,” he breathed against her lips, as if willing the words into her own mouth. “I know.” 

“Then what the fuck are you waiting for?” she growled against him, making his lips quiver. 

“Tell me,” he pleaded, still pulling but not tearing. 

Tell me, he continued to pray silently. Tell me you want me Tell me to fuck you Tell me to rip your panties off and take you Tell me you’re mine Tell me I belong to you Tell me I can drink you up swallow you down Tell me you’ll come home Tell me you need me yes you still need me Tell me to cum inside you Tell me you’ll never ever leave Tell me — 

“What?” she demanded, interrupting his jumbled thoughts. She squeezed the thighs she wrapped around him tight. “You need to be fucking invited inside first or something?”

“Can’t you just —” the words choked in his dry and sputtering throat, frustrated she couldn’t just give in and want him, just say that she wants him. “Do you want it?” he finally asked, feeling as if he was stuck back in the same fucking dance with her: inching forward just a hair, tugging elastic to pull to the side and slide his head along her folds, waiting for her to pull back and make him chase. 

Jessie didn’t pull back or answer, not with her words — instead she slinked her own hand between them and sliced claws through the fabric herself, shredding underwear to fall to the ground before canting hips forward to take him with one swift motion. 

His legs trembled from the sudden, unexpected sensation of finally being consumed entirely by that tight, crushing silk winding around every inch. He fell forward weakly to prop an arm against the building and press flush against her body, steadying himself to move with small, slow rocks of his hips, unsure he could take much more yet. 

“God, Jessie,” he whimpered. It felt even better than he could have imagined, finally being buried completely, hugged by tightness he’d only dreamed of. And he wasn’t ready to surrender that warm grip for even the heartbeat it would take to give her a full thrust, limiting himself to pressing forward to rub along walls just enough to keep in motion and stave off the unbearable ache for more. 

But it wasn’t enough for her, apparently — the hand that had shredded her briefs was now gripping his ass, nails digging into the cheek to push him forward into proper thrust. Her other hand held the back of his neck, scraping its side with trimmed nails still more human than animal. 

The sharp jolt of pain there only added power to the frenzied sparks of ecstasy racing through him to build electricity in his base, rushing through every vein in his body as a particularly long drag of his cock inside her drew out a gasp and an outward jab of claws on her previously humanized hand to break the skin of his neck. 

A second gasp signaled her realization, and she retracted her claws just as quickly, tensing and clearing her throat with a deep rumble as she straightened her limbs. 

“Don’t,” he ordered, clear and firm, tilting his hips back. “Don’t try to hold back. Don’t control yourself,” he whispered, barely managing to do so himself when those warm amber eyes found him, narrowing to take him in. “Scratch me up as much as you’d like,” he purred, his own nails digging crescents in her thighs.  “Do tear me to shreds if you’d like. Just don’t hold back. Not with me.” 

Her response came in a crackle of deep piercing pain throbbing in sharp slices along his back. A broken cry vibrated up from her throat and fell against his neck as she buried fangs there, kicking the leg wrapped around him against his back to pull him in with a slap of skin against skin, arching to seek the angle she wanted to grind against him. 

How ironic, he thought at the sharp jolts of pain shooting through his neck.

Before he couldn’t think anything at all, because fuck it just felt so good, so raw. He hadn’t truly lived in his body like this in centuries, feeling weakened by blazing desire as his shirt was ripped to shreds and she bucked hips eagerly against him. The most he could do was prop her up, do his best to meet thrusts in frantic rhythm as she fucked herself on him, using his body however she wished to chase her pleasure. 

God, he hadn’t been fucked like this since he was human — his lovers since all vampires who kissed and touched with the same cold, efficient gracefulness and precision as him, or humans content to lay back in surrender and let him take what he wanted. But this — this made him feel fucking alive again. 

“N-Not too much of that though, my dear,” he gasped with a jerk back of his neck as she lapped the blood trickling from it. Couldn’t have her really turning, after all, if she drank enough of his blood. 

Her blood, he thought dizzily. The taste of her he had earlier was surely running through his veins by now, only to be swallowed back down by her, their lives mixing, boundaries of their bodies blurring. 

“Still not your fuckin’ dear,” she growled back, craning forward to nibble at his lip instead. 

“My Jessie,” he murmured through the bite of her canines in apology. “My sweet, sweet Jessie. My perfect little Jessie, my —” 

“I’m not fucking sweet either. Or little. Or fucking yours,” she grumbled through his praise, determined to be difficult every step of the way. “And you just told me to — to do what the fuck I want.” 

“You have to argue about absolutely everything, don’t you?” he answered in lazy complaint, forgetting any opposition just as quickly as she clawed to rip the last scrap of his shirt from his back. 

“Well, if that’s what I want,” she snapped, yanking away the hand that had been cupping her cheek to pull down between them, her own talons digging into the backs of his fingers as she pressed down and guided them to work in rubbing circles. “You need to decide what — what you fuckin’ want,” she grunted, a clear final effort at hostility as pink bloomed along her chest and creeped up her neck to make it look all the more delectable. 

“God, you can’t even stop being spiteful for a full ten minutes,” he bemoaned in his own last effort at keeping up bickering, needing the distraction himself as he felt his body try to reel toward the promise of release before he was ready. “Can’t even stop to just — ah, just enjoy getting fucked.” 

“You don’t like it?” she rasped, grasping onto his shoulder and snapping hips more harshly and unsteadily against him, constricting tighter and threatening to bring him to his finish as pressure built to a point of inevitable collapse. 

“I fucking love it,” he admitted with a broken cry, fucking deeper into her, wanting to give her as much of himself as he could. Because of course he loved it, he loved the claws, he loved the fury, he loved the obstinance and the bloodshed and untamed spite, he loved — 

“F-Fuck, John —” Her claws shredded the skin along his neck, surely leaving marks that would remain for days, and she wound even tighter around him, clenching so hard it was almost painful, so that he had to press his hips flush against her to stay inside and fuck her through her peak, savor the pulsing of her walls around him. 

“Yes, Jessie, fuck yes,” he cursed in encouragement as he allowed the flutters of her finish to fade, holding out a moment more to let her fully bask in the release before he returned to selfishly feeding the needs of his own body. “Love it,” he repeated, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Fucking love it. Love it when you let go.” 

She let out a choked gasp as she threw back her head to thud against the wood, eyelids slowly fluttering open to gaze upon him, surely finding him looking just as ruined as she did. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, his own forehead slamming against the door behind her as he buried his face in the crook of her neck, slowing and elongating his strokes, clinging to that last build of pleasure as it quickly became too much. “So fucking good, I’m — Fuck, I’m close, let me —” 

She scraped nails along his neck as she resumed her motions rocking against him. “Not very in control now, huh?” she ground out, voice recovering to grow steady and clear with smug taunting once again. “Like you like this,” she purred, gripping the back of his neck, placing the softest kiss to the top of his head. “Want you to let go, too.” 

“Can I?” he gasped, unable to speak and solidify exactly what he was asking for, only knowing that the hungry ache inside was reaching a pitch, and he was desperate for her to give him permission to let it take over. 

And mercifully she didn’t ask him to explain, answering with a single word and the shifting of her body to give him access to everything he wanted. “Yes,” she sighed, tilting hips forward, tightening the grip of her legs around his waist to hold him in place, tossing her head to the side to offer the soft expanse of her neck. 

That was all he needed, the pressure inside him finally crashing, all that hunger and want swirling to a final frenzy as he buried his cock in her center and his teeth in her neck in synch, gasping around the opened skin as he finished. 

Finally. He finally allowed himself the luxury of a single full drink as he found release, draining and filling her, giving and taking. 

He struggled to will his body back under his control, limiting himself to just one gulp of the thick crimson nectar as he pulled back with another, deeper gasp and a final few rolls of his hips to ride out waves of pleasure, savoring the relief of finally being sated. 

Satisfied his restraint had returned, he brought his mouth back to her throat to lap the remaining drops of blood from the bite, ending the encounter the same way he had begun it. 

He ran his tongue along the puncture wound one last time as he attempted to even the heaving of his chest, feeling the slight dips that remained as the flow of blood dammed. It would be slower to heal than a typical wound for her, same as the scratches along his neck and back, sure to stay visible for another day or two. 

But he thought he rather liked that. 

“Will you please —” he finally huffed, between a last few pants as he caught his breath. “Just fucking come home now?” 

She grunted, lowering a trembling leg to the ground and taking a step back from the church. She looked down, smoothing a hand along her wrinkled shirt, then rubbing along the puncture wound at her throat, circling around to scratch the back of her neck. 

“Be honest,” she started, voice still hoarse and gravelly from strain, so that she sounded very much the same as she did the first time she spoke to him, still easing into the habit of speech. “I don’t look like a normal human right now, do I?” she asked, running a hand through tangled copper. “I look like — I look like I just fucked a dracula, don’t I?” 

“Well, you certainly look like you just fucked someone,” he replied, casually pulling up his pants. He allowed his eyes to fall along the bitemark at her neck, smiling at his work. “Who was very likely a vampire.” 

She tensed the corners of her mouth and nodded in reluctant acceptance, picking up the scraps of torn underwear from the church steps and shoving them in her pocket. “And normal humans don’t fuck draculas outside churches, do they?” 

“Normal humans don’t fuck in public outdoor spaces period,” he replied, descending the steps. He knew that she knew the proper term was ‘vampire,’ and that she was still just trying to get a rise out of him. He tried to not let it work. 

“They don’t?” she asked with a cock of her head, brow furrowing in confusion that appeared quite genuine. “Like, not even when no one’s around?” she questioned, meeting him at the base of the steps. “Not even when the weather’s nice?” 

He nodded in confirmation before turning in the direction out of town, slowly beginning to walk and coaxing her to follow. 

“Fuck,” she cursed. He smiled, hearing the crunch of dry leaves beneath boots that told him she was following behind. “I guess I do still have shit to learn about being human…” 

“I’ll say,” he replied, doing his best to flatten his tone with bored disinterest. “So will you please return to my home, so I can continue educating you?” 

“My home,” she barked resolutely, accompanied by a rustling of footsteps to catch up. “I marked it.” 

“Still going with that argument?” he responded in the same droll bickering tone, despite the way the words fluttered in repetition in his insides. My home, she said. She was home, her home was with him — but he couldn’t cling to that on the outside the way he did inside, couldn’t show how he wished to dig his teeth into it. She would surely bolt if he did. “Your first lesson can be my explaining to you why that won’t hold up in any human court of law.”

“Human court of law — isn’t that a bit of a fucking oxymoron?” she scoffed, leaning forward just enough to show him a flash of that mischievous crooked grin of hers, the glisten of a single fang peeking through lips and the dip of a dimple sinking into one cheek. “Since when are any lawyers considered human? Even the ones who aren’t draculas?” 

“Hm, and I suppose your second lesson of the day will once again need to be on freshening up your jokes,” he replied, pointedly ignoring the ‘dracula’ bait. 

“Fresh? That’s also pretty rich, coming from an undead fucking —” 

“But I suppose we should shelve both topics for the time being to focus on your dinner etiquette,” he interrupted, sparing himself a subtle glimpse to gauge her reaction in his periphery, pausing and inhaling to ensure he didn’t smell the musk of fear wafting from her at the mention. “Now that it seems you won’t be skipping town before your presence is required at dinner with my family.”

She gave a grunt of laughter, shaking her head. “The fuck I will,” she replied with a dismissive wave of her arm. “You can still tell your weirdo family you got dumped. I’ll just be waiting out the freakshow at my house instead of a few towns over.” 

“A few problems with that approach, Jessie dearest,” he said, purposefully skirting as close as he could to the forbidden term of endearment. “One is that our annual family dinner is traditionally hosted at my abode.” 

“My fuckin’ abode. Mine. Unless you have a second tacky ass ranch somewhere I don’t know about, the place we happen to be heading right this moment actually fucking belongs to —” 

“Secondly, it tends to not be possible for a fledgling to ‘dump’ their sire at all.” 

The rustling of her footsteps halted. She stayed there, seemingly in thoughtful silence, face scrunching with an emotion he couldn’t quite place, no matter how closely he studied it. Until she broke the silence with an exaggerated retching noise — the little wolf girl making a dramatic pantomime of gripping her paws at her knees and pretending to vomit. 

“Ugh,” she spat, holding out her tongue. “Ew. ‘Sire?’ Ugh,” she coughed, as if choking on the word. “Do not ever fucking call yourself that again. Fucking christ, John — Ew. I would rather eat a whole fucking field of wolfsbane than ever fucking hear you say —” 

“Very mature,” he hissed, slowing but not stopping his own stride as he waited for her to finish the theatrics. “But your histrionics aside, it’s true. Once a sire —” 

“Enough!” she yipped, covering her trembling ears and staggering forward as if truly injured, outpacing him. “I-I — I’ll make you a fucking deal,” she cried over her shoulder, looking back at him with eyes wide with a terror that failed to seep into her scent with authenticity. “I’ll go to your dracula dinner, if you just stop using that fucking word!”

John sighed. He would never have expected an undomesticated and until recently entirely solitary werewolf to require such intricate social rituals as pretext to being led to do any tiny, simple thing. 

“On two additional conditions,” he huffed, hanging his head as if actually in defeat as he sped up again to flank her. “You actually listen and allow me to prepare you for it, and you stop using the term ‘dracula.’” 

“Well the fuck else am I supposed to call you? Because it’s not going to be fuckin’ —” 

“Just let me teach you how to behave at dinner, then,” he interrupted in offering, expecting from the beginning to be talked down. “I mean, you already look the part of a soon-to-turn fledgling,” he said, darting his gaze pointedly to the bitemarks standing out deep maroon on ivory skin. “Now if you can just prove to me that you can control yourself well enough to act like one…”

A twitch of anger, as expected — a spark of gold in her eyes he knew meant an irrepressible drive to meet the challenge issued, no matter her disdain. So easily provoked. 

“Fine,” she snapped, snarling at him. “But not because I have anything to fucking prove to you!” Certainly, Jessie, he forced his accommodating smile to say. Of course not, Jessie; never that, Jessie. “Because it would be funnier if they thought you got dumped after you went through all the fucking work of turning me.” 

“Of course, Jessie,” he replied plainly, with a flutter of his lashes. “We can start right away, as soon as we’re home —” 

“Then the fuck are we waiting around taking a leisurely stroll for?” she grumbled, offering him one last scowl. 

It was quickly followed by a hushed roar and the sound of ripping fabric that alerted him to her transformation before he saw the flash of russet fur — limbs twisting and falling to the grounds as she took the shape of a wolf. 

“My god, you’re a slower learner than I thought!” he cried with exaggerated shock. “That’s still rule number one — do not transform in the middle of public!” 

His cries were, naturally, futile, as she sprinted off ahead of him with no more than a vague growl — truly never too much progress ever to be made with her. As soon as he allowed himself to believe they’d gotten anywhere he found himself right back where they were that same night — one endless dance or another, her obstinately running off ahead of him yet again. 

Except. 

Except this time she stopped, just past the ‘Welcome’ sign, turning over her shoulder to look back at him expectantly with warm amber eyes he would recognize in any form. And waiting. 

He gave her a last human smile before shifting with a pop and cloud of smoking to transform into bat form, flying the remaining distance to her to perch upon her shoulder. He gave a pleased little squeak as she took off, content to ride there as she lumbered the rest of the way home. 

Perhaps they were getting somewhere after all.

[busstop-on-cornelia]

Ok, 1989tv is HERE and, as promised, there are thoughts (and observations). The songs of course slap, but this is about things that are NEW. New observations and red-string thoughts.

RAINBOWS:

Style has rainbow colored rain on the pavement.

Out Of The Woods: “screaming color” flashes rainbow, but so does “oh I remember” before the final chorus

I Wish You Would: rainbows pulsing in circles around the lyrics of its bridge. The light swooshes are white with rainbows. Also the thing is made of blue and pink and purple accents and words (bi colors).

How You Get The Girl: the whole thing. Multicolored and rainbowed up.

There’s a TON of galaxy/celestial imagery. The men’s faces in I Know Places are starry, the moon is everywhere (specifically in the Out Of The Woods video), Wonderland, AYHTDWS, IWYW, and SIO (to a smaller extent). Additionally, there’s a lot of eyes turning into galaxies (Clean, AYHTDWS).

Storms where you wouldn’t expect them: the road in Style and the bridge, and the background in New Romantics.

Out Of The Woods: LOVE the video. I’m down with those wolf and moon t-shirts, and this video is like that brought to life with some paparazzi/media frenzy symbolism. Gorgeous video—one of my faves.

New Romantics: the song itself inspired by the New Romantics movement (itself based on denying you were a part of it), which was known for its gender-fuckery and queer similarities. This video shows the lyrics on an art-deco stage in bisexual lighting—which I’m not saying is a reference to how many queer people are in the entertainment industry and the arts, but it could be.

Say Don’t ago is SOO FUCKING GOOD YOU GUYS. It’s like if Clean and AYHTDWS had a baby.

Now That We Don’t Talk: she “can’t pretend it’s platonic” and kept herself “shrouded in mystery” to “protect [her] dignity.” Sounds very much like closeting. Also, her ex grew out their hair—something men can do, but something Taylor’s exes haven’t really done. And Harry had longer hair while they were dating.

Suburban Legends: filled with high school references, and the very notion of living a suburban is such a small-town, high-school-sweethearts things. Very Dianna coded with the Glee-ness of it all.

Is It Over Now? sounds a little like Labyrinth and OOTW; also, Tay mentions having the “decency” to “keep her nights hidden,” which also sounds very closeting-coded.

Over all:

The sound is fairly faithful to the original, but the guitars sound a little wonky, like too bright and synthy. Less warm and like someone noodling around, and more like an electric guitar someone forgot to plug in. However, I can look past that. I appreciate they kept the synth riffs at the end of the HYGTG chorus, though.

The production on the Vault Tracks sounds much more Midnights than 1989–glossy new production that sounds a little unpolished.

She’s really leaned into an 80s vaporwave aesthetic with some videos—SIO, IWYW, New Romantics.

The visuals are just gorgeous—all these videos with dynamic, high-quality video. And a lot of more obscure/artsy visuals, too.

I love the album (obvs, 1989 is one of my old faves). Some do the vault tracks I wasn’t too keen on, but I’ll have to listen more than once to form a proper opinion.

To close out:

[wawa-boonliang]

Flufftober Day 2: Family, Friends, Loved Ones

Summary: brotherly bonding between Hitoshi, Dabi, and Shouto. Based on my BNHA fanfiction Never and Always, Eventually

Aizawa-Yamada Shouto isn’t entirely sure why he’s doing this.

It’s been six months since the adoption was finalized. Life had simultaneously calmed down and become more hectic than ever. Shouto didn’t think he’d ever be able to go back to his quiet, shut-in life-style. He didn’t know what he’d do if he ever had to go back to where he was. What he’d do if he lost all of this, all of the hugs in the morning, all of the hair ruffles in the classroom, all of the forehead kisses and sweet wishes goodnight. What he’d do if he didn’t have the warmth of Bakugou… Kacchan… leaning against his side as he sat on the couch with Explodocat spread across his lap, watching TV as Yamada Sensei… as Papa Mic and Shins– Hitoshi argued over the channel.

What he’d do without the warm flutter in his stomach every time he saw Izuku.

But sometimes… he can’t help but fall into old patterns.

Hitoshi froze and peered over Shouto’s shoulder. Shouto held very still, hoping that if he didn’t move, somehow his… brother… wouldn’t be able to see what was on his screen. Unfortunately, Hitoshi didn’t seem to have turned into a T-Rex, so after a few seconds, Hitoshi cleared his throat and read outloud “New theory, Endeavor is secretly in love with All Might.”

Shouto knew it was hopeless at this point, but he still didn’t move, or speak, or breathe.

“Halfy… what the fuck?”

“...it’s not my theory. I’m just reading it.”

“Why are you reading it? What even is this?” Hitoshi gestured to the screen, before heaving himself over the back of the couch and sliding in next to him, pulling the laptop onto his own lap and exploring the page. “ProShippersUnite.com?” Hitoshi read out in glee. “Is this what you fucking do all day in your room?”

“...not always.”

Hitoshi scrolled back up to the post that had initially got his attention due to the giant fan-created splash art of Endeavor and All Might in a passionate embrace. “Don’t show this to Deku, I think he’d actually combust.”

“I wasn’t planning on it? I wasn’t planning on you seeing either.”

“Well, then you shouldn’t have been on it in the living room.”

Shouto flushed. “I didn’t know anyone else was home.”

Shouto, truth be told, had been feeling a little lonely today. Izuku and Kacchan were with Mrs. Midoriya… Aunty Inko… and Papa Mic was at work doing a Charity Marathon stream for the local children’s hospital for cancer awareness month. He wouldn’t be home for another three hours if all went well. Dad was covering patrol today for Mrs. Joke who was out of town visiting family. And up until a few minutes ago, he’d been under the impression that Hitoshi was with Tokoyami at the other boy’s house. Somehow, being in a public space, even in an empty house, was a bit less isolating than being alone in his room in an empty house.

Hitoshi didn’t seem to notice his embarrassment, or if he did he didn’t comment on it. He was too busy reading through the post. “Oh my god, this person made a timeline. All Might says in an interview that he enjoys a specific spicy noodle dish at a certain restaurant, four days later Endeavor is seen at that restaurant ordering that same dish. God, look at that picture. You’d think with being on fire and all he’d be able to handle spice. All Might changes his costume, a few months later Endeavor also changes up his look with the same shade of blue being the predominant color. That’s hilarious, I never noticed that.”

“It’s oddly compelling,” Shouto breaks his silence hesitantly. These days, even though he… he does love Hitoshi… he isn’t always sure when the other boy is making fun of him or not. He never feels like Hitoshi means to hurt his feelings, even though he occasionally does, but he’d rather not be teased about this.

“I…” Shouto wants to explain how, before he had friends, before he had this… theories were all he had. Stupid things to waste time thinking about, because keeping his thoughts occupied was the only way he was able to… just get through the day. Every day. He’d run ridiculous stories through his head, each one more preposterous than the last, and do his best mental gymnastics to justify them. It was fun.

Some of the only fun he’d been able to take for himself for years.

Hitoshi must hear something in his voice, because he stops scrolling and gives Shouto his full attention. “Yeah, Halfy?”

“Sites like these were how I learned about Dad and Papa,” Shouto said slowly. “And Kacchan and Izuku. Them being a family. Theories about Aunty Inko and Mrs. Bakugou being surrogates. Theories about what quirk Izuku had or which father was biologically connected to which son. And before that… I didn’t really have any friends. Theories like this were… the only way I knew how to talk to people. Pros were always happy to share their own, and they always seemed to like mine too.” Shouto huffed. “But now I know they were probably laughing at me half the time. I hadn’t realized it at the time.”

Hitoshi hummed, but his gaze was focused on Shouto. Shouto knew he was listening.

“I just,” Shouto had no idea how to elaborate on how important things like this had been to him, and the more he said out loud, the sillier it seemed. “I just liked them,” he finished lamely.

Hitoshi kept looking at him silently for a few more moments before clearing his throat and closing the laptop. “Let me ask you something, little brother.”

“I’m older than you.”

“Have you ever tried to prove a theory?”

Shouto blinked. “Only…the EraserMic one.”

Hitoshi grinned. “Ferb, I know what we’re gonna do today.”

♡ღ‿ღ♡ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ♡ღ‿ღ♡

“How does this prove that Endeavor is in love with All Might?” Shouto asks Hitoshi an hour later as they hide behind some bushes with a video camera liberated from their parents’ room.

Hitoshi, when he answers, addresses his response towards the camera. “I’m glad you asked lil’ listener,” Hitoshi grins, throwing the camera a couple of finger guns. It’s disconcerting, because the grin is all Dad, but the voice is all Papa Mic. It makes Shouto smile despite himself. “We’ll be able to tell by his reaction. Surely, if he isn’t madly in love with everyone’s favorite hero, then he won’t bat an eye. But if he is get ready for an explosive time!”

“Please stop talking like Papa.”

“No. We ready to go live?”

“Oh. We’ve been live.”

Hitoshi freezes, and by his face, Shouto can tell he regrets talking like a mini Present Mic. Shouto feels a strange, unfamiliar sense of glee. A type of glee he’s only recently discovered and is usually reserved for when one of his brothers gets caught doing something harmlessly stupid.

Hitoshi slowly pulls out his phone and clicks onto their website where Momo had hired somebody to set up a page for live streaming. Sure enough, Shouto had been streaming for ten minutes already. Two thousand people were watching, and the chat was very active.

Lmao dude wat

Endeavor? He hates All Might

no no let them talk

lil listener hahaha

omg my babies

Hitoshi kinda hot tho

dat smile damn

Who let them out of hte house unsuerpvised

Present Mic come get ur kid

im worried

plz dont do anything stupid

why

Wait wut imlate to stream

lmaoooo

let him cook

why r u in a bush

put todoroki on camera!

hes not todoroki anymore he got adopted and changed his name

he’s not todoroki

I think his last name is Yamada like Mic

yeah put him on camera!

Where are the adults? Am concerned?

are we sure they aren’t blood related?

Hitoshi punched Shouto in the arm. “Dude, why didn’t you warn me?”

Shouto frowned at him. “I’ve been pointing it at you for the last ten minutes with the light on.” Shouto gestures to the little green light that indicates that the camera is in use.

“How was I supposed to know! I wasn’t looking at you! I was busy.”

Shouto ignores him and points the camera towards the villain fight that they definitely weren’t supposed to be anywhere near. Endeavor had a villain cornered. Shouto hadn’t been paying attention to what the villain in question had done to get the new number one hero on his tail, but that wasn’t what was important. What was important was the several life-sized All Might cardboard cutouts that Hitoshi had sourced from somewhere, and then used his Aizawa-honed skill set to sneakily place just so, peeking out of alleyways, on rooftops gazing down benevolent, inside someone’s car, and even in the window of a shop – the owner lady had been nice when Hitoshi had told her it was a prank on Endeavor.

Since the court transcripts had been made public, the public opinion on the new number one hero had tanked to all time lows. Shouto felt suitably vindicated by this.

They knew the exact moment when Endeavor clocked the first one, the one in the alley, because he froze, letting the villain with the telekinesis quirk get a good hit in with a piece of rubble from the torn up street. A group of civilians cheered. As did their live chat.

yoooooo ten points

Oooooh face shot

lmaoooooooo pog

ouch. i mean lmao. But ouch.

Rofl nice shot

go for the crotch next time!

GIVE HIM THE CHAIR

ahhhh come on, there was a perfectly good car right there. throw that!!!

Shouto the fuck are you doing and why didn’t you invite me

♡ღ‿ღ♡ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ♡ღ‿ღ♡

Dabi stared in disbelief at his little brother’s livestream.

(He wasn’t entirely sure if he was still able to claim that connection. Not that he’d wanted to for the better part of ten years. But now he wasn’t sure that he could if he did want to. Not since Shouto had been adopted by that sickeningly sweet hero couple. Not since Shouto had been given two new brothers. Or maybe even before. Not since he’d left. But his little maybe-brother had grown into someone that Dabi could see himself being friends with. His little maybe-brother had grown into someone that made Dabi feel a strange feeling of loss in his chest whenever he thought about lost years and lost chances.)

He was all for tormenting Endeavor. But this was lame as hell.

Dabi could do so much better.

“Hey,” Himiko whined. “Are you going? I want to come!”

“No,” Dabi told her sharply, but not unkindly. “One, your obsession with my… brother is weird.”

“Not him! I have a crush on Katsuki!”

“Two,” Dabi steamrolled past, ignoring that. “This is Todoroki business.”

♡ღ‿ღ♡ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ♡ღ‿ღ♡

The fight went well.

For the villain.

Once Endeavor noticed the second cut-out, he seemed to be on the lookout for more. The villain had used his distraction to first rough him up, and then get away. Endeavor roared as he gave chase, blasting down the street, almost burning a few civilians in his wake.

Hitoshi and Shouto ran to keep up, making sure to stay out of sight.

“Okay,” Hitoshi panted. “Step two.”

“And what would step two be?”

The two of them stumbled into each other, surprised. Out of an alley came the burned, but amused figure of none other than Touya. Shouto blinked twice, then gave an awkward smile. “Hello, To— Aniki. Would you like to play with us?”

A look of irritation came over Touya’s face, but it disappeared just as fast. “Don’t call me that.” Shouto nodded, knowing that Touya wasn’t talking about aniki. Shouto wasn’t sure why Touya didn’t want to be called Touya, but Shouto also didn’t want to call him Dabi. Dabi was a villain name. Touya wasn’t a villain. Touya was just his brother. But then Touya smiled a smile that wouldn’t look out of place on Dad. “But, yes. I would.”

“Great,” Hitoshi said, accepting this immediately and rolling with it, which Shouto thought was just one of the many things that made his new brother amazing. He couldn’t help but feel a burst of warmth at the thought of spending time with both his little brother and his older brother. “So the plan is–”

“No, no, no” Touya interrupted. “I saw what the plan was. It was dumb. No, you need to listen to me. I know how to fuck with Endeavor.”

Hitoshi and Shouto passed a look between them.

“What do you have in mind, Aniki?” Shouto asked. Touya’s eyes glinted in a way that reminded Shouto that while Touya wasn’t a villain, Dabi was.

“I have a plan.”

♡ღ‿ღ♡ ʕ•̫͡•ʕ*̫͡*ʕ•͓͡•ʔ-̫͡-ʕ•̫͡•ʔ*̫͡*ʔ-̫͡-ʔ ♡ღ‿ღ♡

Shouto had never thought that he’d be back here.

Even more than that, he never thought he’d be back here laughing.

Fuyumi and Natsuo had moved out ages ago, so the empty manor seemed even emptier than it ever did. Endeavor was still out, and hopefully would be for a while. Technically, they didn’t break and enter, and therefore committed no crime. Originally, Touya had planned on busting through a window, but Endeavor had never asked for Shouto’s house key back. He’d also never officially banned Shouto from the property.

“So,” Hitoshi said to the camera. “My little brother–”

“I’m older than you.”

“-forgot some things when he left, and so we’re here to help him get his stuff. That’s the official story and we’re sticking with it.”

Touya snorted and hefted his bag of supplies. “Now, for the record, I definitely wasn’t in favor of burning down the entire house and dusting off my shoes,” Touya said over his shoulder. “But trust me when I say, this will be better.”

“Also,” Hitoshi continued. “I, as a hero in training, am absolutely not bugging the house in order to get Endeavor's reaction. No siree.”

“Neither am I,” Touya says, gleefully as he hides a small camera in a painting’s frame. “As a dutiful friend of the family, I’m helping with security.”

From behind the camera, Shouto added. “I don’t know what’s happening.”

oh yes we absolutely agree with you

I believe you entirely

Nope nothing sus here

perfectly innocent yup

I mean i actually do believe Shouto

so we not burning down his house?

omg thats a fucking huge ass mansion

steal a tv

With that, Touya started pasting a giant wall art of All Might’s face to the wall.

“It’s beautiful,” Hitoshi wiped an invisible tear from the corner of his eyes. Then, he got to work moving every piece of furniture ever so slightly to the left, dropping tiny but very sharp plastic All Might figures between cushions and behind pillows. And then he scattered the extras around the floor to hopefully be stepped on by bare feet.

“Which is his bedroom?” Hitoshi asked.

“Furthest door down that hallway,” Touya answered before Shouto could.

“Got it,” Hitoshi disappeared. Shouto debated for a moment for as to which brother he should be filming, but then he decided to follow Hitoshi. Touya seemed to be struggling a bit with getting the wall art to stick. Hitoshi was in Endeavor’s room, putting little stickers of All Might’s face on everything, but in unobtrusive areas where they wouldn’t be discovered right away.

“And the best thing is,” Hitoshi said without looking up from what he was doing. “These are all cheap ass dollar store shit, so if he tries to peel ‘em off they’ll leave that shitty resedue that you need glue remover to get off.”

Shouto nodded, accidentally moving the camera as he did so. When Hitoshi was done, he stepped back and took in the room as a whole. It was spartan, with the only decorations being various awards and trophies that Endeavor had been awarded over the years. The overall color scheme was mostly gray with a few splotches here and there of brown. For as long as Shouto can remember, being called into this room meant pain. It meant kowtowing on the ground until his knees went numb as his father ranted. It meant whipping. It meant a heavy boot on his back. It meant fire. It meant whatever he’d done or hadn’t done had been serious. Going into his father’s room to “talk” meant–

“This is boring,” Hitoshi declared after a moment. “Honestly, we’re doing the man a favor.”

That startled a laugh out of Shouto. Hitoshi darted out of the room and was back moments later with spray cans in All Might red, blue, and gold. Hitoshi tossed Shouto the gold. “Here, baby bro–”

“I’m older than you.”

“-that’s for you. Just put that down on the window sill so it can still see us.” Shouto obliged, and then looked for a long moment at the can in his hands. He tried to think of the perfect thing to say. The perfect comeback to years of abuse. (It was easier to think that word now, now that he’d talked about with the Hound Dog and Dad and Papa and Kacchan and Izuku and Hitoshi. It didn’t hurt as much anymore. Nothing hurt as much anymore.) He tried to think of something profound. Something eloquent. Something suitable to match the crime.

He couldn’t think of anything.

Hitoshi noticed his hesitation. “What’s wrong, Halfy?”

“I don’t know what I want to say to him.”

“I mean…” Hitoshi trailed off and Shouto looked up at him, and then noticed that Hitoshi hadn’t been writing anything at all. Rather, there was a rather impressive mural of a dick on fire. Hitoshi shrugged at Shouto’s bemused look. “It’s not like you have to write a poem.”

Shouto looked at his can. He climbed on the bed, standing up, taking joy in not removing his shoes and idly hoping he’d stepped in dog poop at some point that day. Then he reached up as far as he could go, and started spraying the ceiling above the bed.

“WORLDS WORST NUMBER TWO

I HAVE A BETTER DAD THAN YOU

YOURE A FUCKING DOUCHE CANOE”

Hitoshi watched him, his face twisting with laughter. Then he stood next to Shouto and added a final line.

“PEEPEEPOOPOO.”

Together, they admired their work.

“I am a mature hero in training.” Hitoshi announced.

Touya peeked his head in. “Hows it going in here.” Then he spies the poem. He barks out a short laugh. “Beautiful. Art. Poetry.” He has a drill in his hand, and he makes a hole in the corner of the wall where there’s a good angle to see the rest of the room. He presses one final camera bug into the hole, smoothing it in so that it’s flush against the plaster and nearly invisible unless you know what to look for. Then, he grabs the camera from the sill and points it at the ceiling. “Behold.”

All was still for a moment. And then they heard the unmistakable sound of the front gate opening. “Scramble” Touya hissed. They dart down the hall and towards the back of the house, exiting through the garden and leaping over the back fence. They don’t stop running, keeping up the pace as they leave the manor behind them, but after a moment, Touya starts laughing.

It’s a more free laughter than anything Shouto has heard from his older brother in… ever. He sounds young. He sounds free.

He sounds a bit evil.

Hitoshi starts laughing, too. “Please tell me you got all the cameras set up.”

“They’re recording as we speak.” Touya assures him, still smiling widely as they run.

Gradually, they slow their pace until they’re jogging side by side. Shouto is a little surprised that Touya hasn’t gone his own way yet, but he still has their camera, which is presumably still live streaming, so he doesn’t say anything. Afterall, he’s not exactly complaining that his older brother hasn’t disappeared for parts unknown. Again.

And yet, Touya seems a bit surprised when he sees where the two younger boys have led him. “This… is your new home?”

“Yup.” Hitoshi pops the p. “Papa’s probably home by now.”

Touya stops walking. Shouto and Hitoshi look at him in question. “I’ll, uh,” he pushes the camera into Hitoshi’s hands. Hitoshi looks at the screen for a moment, before saluting and turning it off. Touya watches him do this and swallows. “I’ll see you guys–”

The front door opens.

“LIL LISTENERS YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW MANY CALLERS TOLD ME ABOUT oh, hi Touya.”

Touya ruffled up in affront. “That’s not my name.”

“Sorry, sorry, Dabi.” Papa Mic smiles at him. “Thanks for watching the boys today. Come on in! Shouta set some soup to cook this morning and I think it’s ready!”

“I’m not sure-”

“There’s a place at my table with your name on it,” Mic continues, his face carefully open and welcoming. “Even if you don’t claim it today.”

Touya swallows. “Um.”

“All of our family is welcome whenever.”

“I’m not part of your family.”

“Friends?”

“I’m not your friend.”

“Loved ones, then.”

“I’m not–” Touya blinks rapidly. Mic wags a finger at him.

“Rule number seven in this house,” Mic tells him very seriously. “No one gets to decide who someone else loves.”

“You don’t even know me.”

Mic lets his hand fall back to his side, then he steps back, leaving the door open. “No, I don’t.” He admits. “But I’d like to.”

Touya looks lost. Shouto grabs his hand. “Aniki,” he says. “We have to watch the reaction together.”

Touya swallows. “Are you sure? This is your family. Not mine.”

“You’re my family.”

Touya stares at him for a long moment.

Of course, it’s Hitoshi that breaks the silence, tossing his comment over his shoulder as he embraces Mic and goes inside. “Yeah, Aniki, get your butt in here. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Dad’s pho. Its fucking to die for.”

Touya turns wide eyes at Hitoshi’s back disappearing into the house. Slowly, he nods. Mic’s smile grows as Touya slowly walks up the front steps, hesitating just before crossing the threshold into the house. Mic, moving slowly so there’s time for him to move, places a hand on Touya’s shoulder. Touya flinches anyway.

“Are you sure?” Touya asks again, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“I’m sure.”

Touya meets his eyes, then nods. He takes a deep breath, as if steeling himself.

He goes inside.

Shouto follows, pressing briefly into Mic as he passes.

Mic closes the door behind them.