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#I'm only starting to know these characters
deerspherestudios · 2 days
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Hii, sorry if there is something that is not well understood, I'm using a translator jej [My native language is Spanish]. I just wanted to say that I love everything about the game, Mychael is a character that really grabs you in a very nice way. I'm also very happy to know that I'm not the only one who likes things to go slowly, that it first starts with small feelings until it reaches a dark obsession [I really love it!] On the other hand, I hope there's no problem with me using Mychael as a little inspiration to create a character I'm working with to create a story. Attached is a little drawing I did, I love his work! ᐢᗜᐢ
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Aaa thank you so much!! The drawing is lovely, I love your character; they're so cute!!!! <3 Good luck with your story!!
In terms of yan VNs, I feel like there's more variety these days (though I haven't explored any recent yandere visual novels in a while; they keep popping up like mushrooms! /j) but I'm happy the slow burn aspect in MO is something people enjoy!
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ariestrxsh · 13 hours
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🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, heavy step sibling kink, brutal face fucking, breath play, dacryphilia, degradation, humiliation, light praise, roughdom!stepbro!chris, bratty!stepsis!reader
🖤 author's note: 🖤 this is not incest!!! the characters are step siblings. i'm aware that it's still morally grey for some people. totally get it. if you don't like the concept, don't read it bc it will literally be impossible for you to forget they're step siblings. 😭 i just need rough dom stepbro chris more than i need air in my lungs. (this joke will be even funnier to you after you read this fic if you do.) and last thing: sorry x100 for writing this lmao. and a super big sorry to anyone who's on my taglist who didn't wanna read this.
🖤 summary: 🖤 after arguing about whose turn it is to do the dishes, you and your step-brother chris decide to have a breath-holding contest, but there's only one way chris can be sure that you're playing fair.
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holdyourbreath
"So, are you going to do the dishes before my dad and your mom get home?" Your eyes darted up at Chris, your disgusting new step brother, from across the room while you were curled up on the living room floor next to the dim lamp with a warm blanket and a good book.
"Are you fuckin' with me, kid? I thought it was your turn to do the dishes," Chris replied smugly, glaring at you from his gaming chair as he sat in front of the TV, mindlessly playing some dumb Modern Warfare whatever number they're on now.
"I did them last night," you responded defensively, your voice becoming shrill. "Yeah, and I did them two nights in a row before that. What's the big deal?" Chris snapped back, rolling his eyes at how whiny you were.
You resented how hard-headed he was, especially because you were hard-headed, and there was only room for one stubborn person in this house.
His mom had met your dad about six months prior and three months into knowing each other, they eloped, and now you were stuck living under someone else's roof with an obnoxious, gross, smug step brother who never carried his weight around the place and made everything everyone else's problem.
You weren't the type of person to use the word hate lightly, but you hated Chris.
"Chris, can you please just do the dishes? I'm busy. I'm right about to reach the climax in this book," you responded in an agitated and slightly desperate tone. "Well, I'm busy, too. I'm about to go climax after this game," Chris chuckled at your word choice.
"Ugh, you're disgusting!" You slammed your book shut, shooting him a look of contempt. "Sorry, princess. Did I ruin your climax?" Chris smirked, motioning towards your book and biting his lip.
You almost got up and just did the dishes yourself, because you knew they needed to be done, and despite how much you didn't want it to be true, Chris was perhaps, even more hard-headed than you, but you had an idea.
"Let's settle this like adults. Breath holding contest. Whoever holds their breath the longest doesn't have to do the dishes tonight," you suggested, and Chris gave you a look like you'd given him an offer he couldn't refuse.
You and Chris were both competitive, and contests were often the only effective way to settle arguments between the two of you. Sometimes it would be rock, paper, scissors. Or a staring contest. Or a one-on-one game of basketball. Anything you guys could turn into a competition really.
"Deal," Chris confidently responded, pausing his game and spinning around in his chair until he was facing you. "Okay, on the count of three," you said, setting a stopwatch on your phone, and the two of you both took in a deep inhale before holding your breath as long as you could.
You and Chris stared directly at each other, giving each other dirty looks and sizing each other up, both trying to gain dominance over the other. You didn't really care to stay true to the game and play fair. When you started running out of air, you slowly exhaled through your nose, cycling your breath and hoping Chris wouldn't catch on.
You couldn't let that smug bastard win. After all, it was his turn to do the dishes, and your book was way more important than his stupid video games.
After the stopwatch hit a minute and a forty-five seconds, Chris' face was turning a bit red. He pinched his eyebrows together and scrunched his nose at you in a look of displeasure, and after about fifteen more seconds of this, Chris let out a long, angry exhale. "Fuck you, you're cheating!" He accused you.
"I am not!" You snarked back, but the way your voice naturally raised an octave or two had even you unconvinced of your own lie. "Bitch, you didn't even breathe out before you said that. And you don't look or sound out of breath at all," Chris replied, narrowing his eyes at you and clenching his jaw.
"I wasn't cheating," you said, avoiding eye contact. "You were, and I can prove it," Chris licked his lips maliciously and grinned at you. "You can prove it?" You said in a skeptical tone, testing him. Chris stood up, slowly sauntered over to you while you were still sitting on the ground.
He peered down at you with a darkness in his eyes as he started unfastening his belt and unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. "What the fuck are you doing?" You asked, glaring up at him, but your eyes fell and widened when he pulled out his big, juicy dick. It was already hard and the tip was swollen and shiny with a layer of precum.
Conveniently for Chris, your jaw dropped as you studied the way his veins webbed out across the backside of his shaft, and he took this opportunity to grab onto the back of your head and shove his throbbing cock into your gaping mouth. He let out a satisfied exhale and his eyes gently rolled back as he relished in the wet warmth you provided for him.
He held your head in place and forced every inch down your throat until you could feel the hem of his shirt tickling your nose. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his phone, and he opened the stopwatch function on it. He then placed it into your trembling hand.
"You're gonna hold this for me, you fucking cunt. You're gonna hold it up so I can see it, and we're gonna count together how long you can hold your breath, yeah?" Chris said through gritted teeth before hitting the start button.
Chris' left hand was still tangled in your hair, and with his right hand, he pinched your nose closed between his thumb and pointer finger. "Be a good girl and hold your breath for me," he whispered to you, admiring the way your soft, pretty lips looked keeping his cock warm for him.
"Come on, princess. It's only been fifteen seconds. I know you can keep going since you're so good at holding your breath, right?" He taunted you as he peered down at the tears forming in your eyes.
"Like having your step brother's dick in your mouth? I bet you do. Didn't even put up a fight or nothin', you just let me stick it in," Chris spoke to you in a low, dominant voice that immediately had your pussy drooling for him. "Thirty seconds," Chris relayed, his eyes bouncing back and forth between your pretty little mouth and the stopwatch.
"Fuck, it's so nice to have some peace and quiet around here for once. No bitchin', no complainin', no whinin'. Just the sweet sound of you gagging on me," Chris moaned, gently rocking his hips back and forth and relishing in the soft choking noises that came from you, his belt buckle softly clanking against itself.
"See? Now that's what it looks like when you're actually holding your breath. Forty-five seconds," Chris smirked down at you, noting how red your face was getting from lack of air.
He started to fuck your face a little rougher, still cutting off your oxygen flow, the sound of the metal on his belt getting louder. You could feel his tip grazing that spot at the back of your throat, tickling your gag reflex. You could feel his pretty veins with your tongue as it rested on the backside of his length.
"You like having your mouth used by your step brother? I bet you like when I remind you what I am to you, huh? Does it make you wet? How wrong it is?" Chris teased you, thrusting back and forth, his eyes rolling back into his head as several animalistic moans left his mouth.
You didn't want to admit it, but Chris was right. There was something about it that was so taboo that you couldn't help but soak your panties while Chris used you however he wanted. "One minute. You already look like you need air, princess," Chris taunted you, his jaw slacking as he looked down at the tears rolling down your cheeks. "So pretty when you cry for me," he let out a breathy moan while he threw his head back.
Your heart started pounding in you ears, your palms were sweating, and your eyes felt like they were going to bulge out of your head. You did secretly love choking on your step brother's gorgeous cock, but you really couldn't breathe, and you didn't have the lung capacity for this.
You took your free hand, made a fist with it and started pounding on Chris' thigh to let him know you'd had enough. "Admit you lied and that you like this, and I'll let you breathe," Chris cooed, peering down at you and how desperately you gazed up at him.
You were too prideful. Surely, he'd have to let go of your nose regardless of whether you admitted to it or not, right? You pounded on his thigh again.
"All you have to do, princess, is nod your head when I ask you these next few questions, and I'll let go," Chris said to you slowly as if you were dumb. "Did you cheat during our contest and then lie about it?" He inquired, staring down at your makeup streaking down your cheeks. You couldn't take it any longer. You nodded.
"Good answer. Now does it make you wet? How wrong it is to have your step brother's dick in your pretty little mouth?" He asked in a soft, sweet tone, which didn't match the vile words pouring from his pouty lips. Humiliation welled in you, and you looked up at your step brother in shame as you hesitantly nodded your head.
"That's what I thought," Chris whispered, finally letting go of your nose and pulling his meat out of your throat, eliciting several loud gasping and coughing sounds from you before you started violently panting, desperately trying to catch your breath.
"Fuck, I can't believe you liked that. You're so fucked up," Chris whispered, winking down at you and smiling, knowing he liked it just as much. "You know, while I have you here, I may as well have you finish the job, hmm?" He suggested, searching your face for a reaction.
Desperation filled your eyes while you gazed up at him and slowly nodded. You hated the way he had you submitting to him, and so easily, too, but you couldn't help the way it turned you on to think about your step brother busting all over your tongue.
He grabbed the back of your head again and made his cock vanish behind your lips once more. He gripped onto your hair tightly, controlling your movements and causing your mouth to jounce on his meat. His hips began involuntarily thrusting back and forth while he enjoyed the way you graciously took every inch like you were starving for it.
Your tongue danced around on the underside of his shaft, supplementing the sensations he was already giving into. The way you stared up at him with your lips embracing all his sensitive nerve endings made him melt in your mouth, and his eyes started to glaze over. You could tell he was getting close.
"Fuck, you're such a good step sister. Takin' me so fuckin' well," he whispered in a sultry voice, contemptuously smiling at you. You couldn't believe how much you were looking forward to making Chris finish on your tastebuds, and you felt repulsed with yourself for getting so wet at his words. No matter how much you tried to remind yourself what a disgusting, selfish jerk he was, your pussy was drooling for him.
"What would your daddy think if he knew his little princess were choking on my dick right now while he finishes up at work?" Chris seductictively teased you, feeding your humiliation kink.
You didn't need to use your words to tell Chris how much you liked everything he was saying to you. He could tell by the desperate glint in your eye that lingered as he degraded you.
"Want your step brother to cum on your pretty little tongue?" Chris cooed, his movements becoming more jagged and messy as he fucked your mouth. "You gotta beg for it, princess, or else I won't give it to ya," he snarked back, his lips curling into a devilish grin.
You peered up at him in silence. Of course you wanted to taste his seed as it poured from his tip, but you wanted him to beg you to let him cum, not the other way around.
He roughly pulled you off his cock and leaned down so that his face was only a few inches from yours. "I said beg," he rasped. Fuck, you thought when you realized you'd already lost the power struggle the second you cheated during the breath-holding contest.
Chris wasn't the type to let things go, and he didn't care about cumming if you weren't going to beg him. He'd leave himself unfinished just to spite you. "Please, Chris.." you softly whined while you were on your knees peering up at him, longingly. "Please what?" He inquired, needing to hear you say it.
"Please. I want you to fill up my mouth," you quietly admitted. "Good girl. Say it again. Beg harder," he lustfully stared down at you, hanging onto your every last word, but you thought you'd try one more time to flip the dynamic on him.
"Be a good boy and cum for me," your lips curled into a smug smile, but Chris wasn't the least bit amused. "That's not how this works. You are not domming me right now, fucking bitch," Chris said, taking your hair into his tight grasp again and shaking you around like a doll. "I fucking said beg. And if you misbehave one more time, I'll never let you suck my cock again," he threatened. You hated how effective this was.
"No, no, no. Please. I'm sorry. Please finish on my tongue. Please. I'm dying for it. I need your cum flooding my mouth until it's overflowing. I'd do anything for it," you whined, giving Chris exactly what he wanted.
"Fuck. So easy. Such a good girl for me. How could I not reward such pretty words?" Chris cooed, making his wand disappear behind your pretty lips again like some kind of deranged magic trick.
He rocked his hips back and forth, triggering your gag reflex some more and relishing in the lovely sound of you choking on him. His moans became deeper and more urgent as you took him so well. "Good girl. Get ready for me, princess. I'm so close," Chris breathlessly called out, violently fucking your face while he manipulated the movement of your head, still holding your hair in his tight grip.
His guttural moans echoed throughout the house as his dick throbbed against your lips, emitting a hot, thick, sticky substance onto your eager tongue while he pumped back and forth, savoring every last bit of pleasure. "Good girl. Swallow," he commanded you, smiling down at the way you obediently listened.
"Fuck," he whispered when he was done using your pretty little back-talking mouth. As he tucked his satisfied cock back into his pants, he wiped away a tear that was running down you cheek and softly said, "Now those dishes aren't going to wash themselves, princess."
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pomefioredove · 20 hours
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Imagine the overbloat gang as fathers or like proud/panicking that their s/o is having a child and they don't know what to do
Imagine the gang trying to give their kids a goid life and getting baby fever like who wouldn't because the kid is literally a mixed of him and you and they gush about how much they love their s/o and children like ???????
Overbload gang as fathers and i will start violently sob
I do have a weakness for familial headcanons :) future au time??
*ੈ✩‧₊˚ as fathers
type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, leona, azul, jamil, vil, idia, malleus additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral (no mentions of the child's origins), reader is not specified to be yuu, obviously takes place in the future
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I think Riddle is one of the most reluctant to have children
for years he was strictly against them. his excuses were always that children are messy, unruly, his career, his relationship with you... but he was mostly just afraid of turning into his mother
as he gets older and forms his own identity, though, he realizes that it takes a lot of intentional effort to fuck up a child like his mom did, and he changes his mind
I can see him with... maybe two kids
he would never want an only child. after all, the bonds he made with his peers are what kept him going
he is a pretty good parent overall. maybe a little to focused on bedtimes and table manners, but the kids don't seem to mind
Trey and Che'nya babysit often (and it's always disastrous)
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
talking Leona into the idea of fatherhood is like diffusing a bomb with a blindfold on. the guy won't even JOKE about it
if you do end up with a kid, it's unplanned, whether that be pregnancy or baby left on the doorstep
but he makes a surprisingly(?) good father. defo a girl dad, he would spoil a daughter rotten. lets her beat the daylights out of Neji because that's his little princess :)
parenting is really not as scary as he thought it was going to be
he has "I'm just resting my eyes" *falls asleep for 8 hours on the reclining chair in the living room* dad energy
the hardest part?
pretending to like vegetables in front of the kid to set a good example
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Azul would actually be an awesome dad idc. IDC!
he has a good relationship with his mom and stepdad (who definitely babysit all the time; they insist on it), so he has good role models
he's not even worried about how it'll affect his career! Azul has a "do it all" personality: businessman, entrepreneur, father, aspiring millionaire...
and he is so overprotective
he'd cover that kid in bubble wrap if you'd let him
but he's really more concerned about their feelings. sending them to school is much harder than closing a business deal
he's a little sensitive, but he knows he'll have to trust them eventually
P.S. the tweels are NOT allowed to babysit. bad influences
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Jamil. ohhh Jamil :(
kids were never on the table for him, even after he met you and fell in love, he just... couldn't imagine it
regardless of whether or not he and his family are in a better place. (for the sake of this story, let's pretend they are. I want him to be happy) he just has so much generational trauma that he knows the child will end up with some, anyway
when, if, he's ready, it will still be a tough process. but worth it
he's such a supportive dad. bragging about his child at any chance, definitely the kind of dad to show everyone the baby pictures without being asked
it gets embarrassing for them as they grow, but he doesn't care
he thinks they're the greatest thing ever, and people should know that!
he is so proud
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
Vil had always wanted to play a father on screen, but once he hits that age, he starts thinking about real life, too
he's gotten where he wants to be, after all: he's still young, he's in love, and his career, as successful as it is, is starting to wind down. so, why not?
he is the most supportive partner you could ask for. despite his schedule, he's involved in everything (yes, even the messy stuff)
he's got a customized baby bjorn and everything
I can see him with... one. just one is enough for him. he also has girl dad energy. he's already looking forward to playing princesses and letting her do his makeup (terribly, of course)
he knows his child will grow to have their own wants and thoughts and personality, and he's supportive. besides, if he has another Epel on his hands, he'll know how to handle them
just... gentler, this time
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
for you, anon, I will enterain the idea that Idia may someday reproduce. but there's still a 50% chance that kid is a robot
joking (kind of)
I don't think he'd even really want kids. considering his own unhappy childhood and the whole curse of his bloodline thing. but, like the others, he can be convinced!
I think he'd make a pretty good father, tbh. neurotic, sure, but he's not too clingy, nor too distant
whatever kids he has will be smart, and he trusts them. he likes teaching them nerdy stuff, too (finally, someone he can infodump to!!!)
he probably ends up with more than he'd think. 2 or 3
as long as you never bring up how cringe he was in college, he's rather mature and prepared for anything
*ੈ✩‧₊˚
out of the whole lineup, Malleus is the the only one to have thought your future children while at NRC. daydreamed, really
I know, not surprising. look at the guy. he's practically kicking his legs back and forth while coming up with baby names in game
it was just a fantasy at first, then you became closer, graduated, got older, and...
Lilia began teasing him about getting grandkids, and Malleus took him quite seriously
he knows he's still young (though, at his age, Lilia was already general), but he doesn't want to wait forever. you both have many long talks on the matter
and end up with... as many children as you can handle, basically
Malleus is somewhat of an awkward father (having been raised by Lilia will do that to you)
but he cares. and he tries! very hard. plus, there's always Lilia, Silver, and Sebek around to lend a hand
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hotvintagepoll · 2 days
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There's something serious I want to talk about before the contest proper starts. I got a lot of submissions for this contest, and I tried to include a good variety of scrungly little guys. In my head this is a tournament dedicated to the funny, odd, weird character actors, and I'm happy that we have a range of talent here from noir to comedy to horror to drama. With that said—
A few of the submissions walked a line that I felt uncomfortable with, where a physical disability or a facial disfigurement was treated as the only reason to submit someone as scrungly. These submissions made me uncomfortable—the equating of someone outside the able-bodied norm with, by one of my own definitions, a scraggly-looking opossum. It crosses a line for me to frame a person as being odd for simply......existing in a human body. That's not what this tournament is about—this is a tournament about character actors who gave us fun, weird performances, driven by their own acting choices, not an excuse to think someone strange just for the way they exist.
I define scrungle as coming from a person's agency and skill as an actor, an energy and electricity brought by the actor themself, not from an appearance. I will not tolerate any propaganda that focuses on an actor's body in a demeaning or fetishistic context. I also won't tolerate propaganda that gets weird about race or class, comments that focus on a person's look over their performance, etc. etc. And if (against my best intentions) any of the propaganda in a poll post falls into this, I hope you guys will let me know and I'll correct/remove it. Please talk to me if I fuck up.
Some of the people here overcame significant barriers against a society that did not want to see them, making the most of bit parts and sidekick roles by giving warm, funny, weird, and masterful performances. That is a wonderful thing, and a brave thing. Some of these actors never truly got to shine, because Hollywood did not want to see them as more than a stereotype. I want to honor those comedians and character actors anyway for what they did manage to do. This tournament is about highlighting all these scrungly guys for the fun, purposely weird acting they gave us, and I hope we can be considerate in how we talk about their work.
tl;dr Respect for bodily autonomy and diversity of humanity is important in this competition, and it's important to me that we don't conflate "scrungly," ie an intentional performance of weirdness driven by the actor's choices, with "I think they look weird therefore they are weird," which is gross and dehumanizing. Do not do that. I won't tolerate anyone being weird about people who are just being people.
I hope this makes sense and I used the right language! See you guys Thursday :)
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emmyrosee · 2 days
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playful reader x nonchalant/angry character is a good way to start the day emmy and you know that. the fact that he cant do anything because that's the love of his life right there.
THATS THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE RIGHT THERE
And he just looks at you with the most dead expression, lazily blinking at you bc he's so tired of your shenanigans, and he sends you a grimace and a sigh when you say something especially feral.
like this morning, when you were holding hands while sitting on the couch, he watches with a confused expression when you lift up his arm, sniff the damn limb, and just when he opens his mouth to ask you what the hell you're doing, you reeled your head back and immediately sunk your teeth into his forearm.
"WHY ME!" He barks, trying his best to yank his arm out of your grip, only for you to tighten your fingers sharply. He snarls in anger and slight pain, "how the hell would you feel if I just went up to you and started biting you, hmm? Made you look like the victim of a feral dog attack-"
"Needs salt."
"What?"
While he ponders what you said, you gently rub your fingers together as if to sprinkle something on his arm. He shakes his head, "no, no no-"
You toss your head back to bite him again, this time putting your whole jaw into the bite. "SON OF A BI-"
"Language," you manage around the wad of... him, in your mouth. The vein in his forehead throbs in annoyance as you finally let him go, smacking your lips together thoughtfully before nodding, "yes. Better with salt." And as if nothing happened, you take your chance in curling into his warm side, snuggling close like you haven't just given him a massive, bruised, bitemark that he now has to think of an excuse for.
He may be the fool, because for how annoyed you make him, he wraps his arm around you and presses a kiss to your head. You purr happily, "I can't wait to gobble you up one day. Just... unhinge my jaw and completely swallow you whole, my cutie pie."
"I'm breaking up with you."
"You're not allowed to," you hum. "It's against the law, actually."
"Oh yeah?" He sighs. "What's the punishment? Because it might be worth it."
You grin up at him, "it's life with me, except no one believes you when you tell them I tickle you awake, bite your arms off, pop blackheads on your nose and pick eye-crusties from your eye."
"... so basically life now?"
"Yes."
"Great," he grumbles, leaning down to bite softly into your neck, secretly relishing in your whiny laughter and weak shoves at his shoulders.
----
hq: kageyama, tsukishima, kenma, akaashi, IWAIZUMI, hanamakki, matsukawa, ushijima, SEMI, kita, osamu, SUNA, KIYOOMI, meian
bnha: BAKUGOU, sero, todoroki, SHINSOU
jjk: gojo but in diff font, geto, SUKUNA, TOJI, shiu
tr: mikey, DRAKEN, BAJI, ran, RINDOU
+ ur favesssss
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Is this an unpopular opinion? Is this a hot take??? I don't know if it is but I'm going to say it anyway,
I've read several AU!AFTG fics where writers try to mimic Neil's cut throat tongue lashings. They try to create their own "You know, I get it moment" whether with existing characters or OCs or whatever
Rarely do they pull it off. In fact, most miss the mark by a mile.
And it's not because they're bad at writing insults, they aren't. They can craft insults just like the rest of us, with varying degrees of success and scathing derogatory language. It's that the insults they use are generally applicable to most people and get their punch by being rife with curse words.
That's not how Neil does it.
Neil's insults are bespoke!!! (A bespoke suit is one where fabric isn't even cut until we know your exact measurements, this suit is for you, so let me write down every tidbit of relevant information about you and your body before I even start picking out thread)
Neil basically psychoanalyzed someone, noticed all their strengths, weaknesses, fears, hopes and dreams, complexes and traumas that he could get his little hands on, and honed the perfect sentence to bypass all their surface layer feelings and find their Inner Child like a fucking sniper and shot that crying baby in the forehead
That's why it hurts!!! Neil wouldn't call some one ugly as an insult even though that's an insult that has a wide AOE - it'll hit lots of folks. Neil would only call some ugly if it would strike home at their inner most traumatic childhood issues - Neil would call you ugly if he knew your mother called you ugly since birth and told you your only chance at earning love is by becoming hot and your dad told you you were so unskilled you couldn't even make a supermodel pretty if you tried giving them a makeover cus you're just that useless at making change. Yeah, Neil would call you ugly at that point.
Kevin didn't try to strangle Neil cus he called him a slur for disabled people, it pissed him off but it didn't really strike a nerve.
Kevin tried to strangle Neil cus he called him a "deadweight has been" and that struck all his nerves.
If you wanna write your own "You know, I get it" you can't just be insulting. You gotta be traumatizing. You can't just be mean to an adult being an asshole. You gotta be mean to a little kid who's already crying.
Only a couple of fic writers have pulled it off as far as I've read.
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What if Class of 09 Flipside was made by a Woman?
I liked Class of 09. I liked it's snappy dialogue, I liked it's social commentary of high school and women's experiences with creepy men and adulthood, I liked how it gave such a compelling main character where you know she's awful yet acknowledge that she has her reasons without justification. I like Class of 09, both the original and re-up. What I don't like though, is Class of 09: The Flipside.
Setting my personal disgust with the feet routes and the 'Palestinian slave trade' comment aside, the writing in Flipside just is completely different from the last 2. Instead of focusing on the biting social commentary of the woman experience, it instead prioritizes shock value with only some form of substance (e.g, jecka seeing nicole's suicide, jeffrey's death, the ending messages apart from the creator) And you know what else sucks? We never actually got to explore Jecka properly of who she is as a character, her relationships with her family, friends, former friends...Sure, we get doses of her life like her dad which does do what the game promised: Change how we saw the Class of 09 story before. We now understand why Jecka was terrified of the cop's yelling, not only because an powerful authority abusing his power but also experienced it before. See, this was the stuff I expected from Flipside. This was what the game should've prioritised in. Instead, it seemed like the creator would rather showcase his fetishes and spite people that don't like him or the game. From that there on, I keep thinking to myself: 'you know, this game would've been better had a woman wrote this.' But can they?
I'm a woman experienced high school before, even tried to fit the class of 09 writing style on my characters in my own personal time. Given how a lot of class of 09 fans are disappointed with the new game and I want to get into writing publically, I figure that I be the one to rewrite Class of 09 The Flipside in hopes of re-capturing the essence of the first two games alongside the game's intentions itself. Even though it's still in development, I've already outlined the routes/endings so far for you all to get a peek:
Route 1/Ending 1 - Invasion of MySpace: The foot route will be replaced by Jecka taking and making videos/pictures in order to make money after being fired from her job. Think of it like a late 2000s or early 2010s version of OnlyFans. This would help remain the social commentaries of men’s creepy behaviour to women alongside how their safety is affected. There’ll be an option of whether to go to the creepy man’s house or go home. If she goes home, she finds Nicole giving her dad a handjob with a dead expression. It ends with Jecka killing herself and implies that Nicole followed her too (not half naked though, just in regular clothes cuz I'm not a freak unlike someone)
Ending 2 - MurderSpace: If Jecka chose to go to the creepy man’s home, she gets murdered and placed like a doll in the man’s basement. 
Route 2/Ending 6 - Breaking the Wounded Heart: Jecka finds herself to work with Karen and Ari at Dominos. Overtime, they start to form a bond and Jecka herself starts to mature and finds Nicole to be unbearable. Jecka finally breaks off her friendship with Nicole and cuts forward to the future where Jecka currently lives a peaceful yet boring life, reflecting on the past with Nicole, wondering if she’s really better off without Nicole because while she’s now in a stable life without the chaos, it's the chaos that entertained her: Nicole entertained her. And now it’s all gone. But in the end, it suggests that things are much better with Nicole gone as it cuts to a phone beeping and Jecka looking down at it with a smile while Ari is by her side. Yes, this is the route where Jeckari is canon. I know this sounds too sweet for Class of 09 but I want it to still match the vibe with it being less shocking but more real in a way. Something too realistically depressing but still mundane. This is what I planned to be the saddest but best outcome of the game. The most real I should say. 
Ending 5 - Was it all worth it?: If Jecka chooses Nicole over her new friends, it ends with her and Nicole being homeless smoking drugs in an abandoned forest with Jecka reflecting on whether or not she made a good choice with Nicole before commenting on needing a Xanax to distract her from the regret and pain. 
Route 3/Ending 3 - Fuck Men!: Jecka gets into a relationship with a presumably kind-hearted gentleman. Nicole tries to warn her but Jecka won’t listen. She then is coerced by the man into doing sexual favours for his economic gain, making her become a sex trafficked victim.
Route 4/Ending 4 - Drunk Drive Delivery: Same route where Ari dies but instead the ending changed to Jecka being arrested for 6 months where the ending monologue would showcase her conflicted in anger and regret. Plus, it plays more to the idea of Jecka ‘dying at 21’ logic with being forced to work: adult party culture: that kind of thing. 
I'd be happy to hear any feedback or/and ideas for this rewrite.
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maneskinwh0re · 2 days
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“one more word.” ~ butch!wolverine x ladypool!reader this is just a wlw honda odyssey scene bc i need butch wolverine to be real. i also aimed to write them in character! give feedback babes plsssss
cw: outdated cultural references, fourth wall breaking, nsfw, blood, f!ngering, strap!sex, idk just lotta gay shit xx
wc: 4.3k...👁️👁️
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"get. in the fucking. car."
"it'll get you there safe and sound!" nicepool reassures with a loving pat to the top of the grey honda odyssey. "lil betsy always does." his eyes then fall to dogpool, who is held tightly in your arms. "you're gonna have to give me my dog back, though..."
"i know," you reply matter-of-factly. "listen-" you start before mary puppins places a paw on your hand. "yes, child... if you ever want to give her up or if she needs a new home, or if something should happen to you, i'd love to be her mama."
nicepool only wheezes at your remark. "what would ever happen to me?"
"lots of stuff," you reply with a shrug, smiling innocently under your red mask.
as soon as he realizes your seriousness, his smile fades and looks to the older woman standing to his right in an ask for help. the wolverine lets out a huff as she pushes herself off the honda and moves to grab the dog from your grasp.
"n-no! we're running away- agh- the corn was too dense, girl!" you say in apologies to mary puppins and watch sadly as laura hands the you-variant over to the other, nicer-you-variant.
you begrudgingly get in the passenger seat of the shitty car, waving goodbye to dogpool. the obnoxious sound of you singing "we'll meet again" is muffled by the car windows as laura drives you both away.
time passes. maybe 15 minutes, maybe an hour. doesn't matter, reader— don't worry about it. you haven’t been paying attention to the time because you’ve been sneaking quick gazes at the wolverine in the driver’s seat to your left. the way her brown hair curls up on either sides of her head looks so cute. yet the way her large, gloved hands grip the steering wheel causes your mind to wander other places. all you know now is there’s been a lingering thought poking at your brain since you picked this wolverine up from that bar in her universe.
"okay i'm just gonna ask. what's with the suit? first thing i did when i flamed out: i took mine off."
"drop it." laura mutters.
"it's not that ugly..."
"stop talkin about my suit."
"did you make it yourself? been there!"
"quit. now." the tension in her voice is rising.
"the x-men make you wear it? those sons of fuckin bitches. they are not your friends, i'll tell ya that. friends don't let friends leave the house looking like they fight crime for the los angeles rams-"
"shut the fuck up about the suit," she snaps.
"woahwoahwoah watch your frown lines, angel baby." you back off, lifting your hands in a motion of surrender. "i'm just trying to bond a little bit-"
"yeah? well then talk about something else."
"fine!"
there's an uncomfortable silence between you two, only for a moment before you play around, making spiderman web motions with your gloved hands. you just can’t help but annoy the woman next to you, it’s too much fun. it’s like your duty as passenger princess.
"stop it," she snaps again soon enough.
"why? don't wanna get distracted seeing my fingers in this motion?" you tease, moving your middle and ring finger back and forth. laura only scoffs at the sexual innuendo. "ahh, the natural hand position of the sapphics." you turn to look out the car window and make eye contact with the reader. "is that why so many masc lesbians are obsessed with spiderman? i guess only earth-616 knows the correlation..."
and wait- if i'm supposedly you, the reader, but as ladypool-- then how am i breaking the fourth wall? gasp! a fourth wall break inside a fourth wall break... that's like- sixteen walls... am i talking to myself? or talking to myself? whatever. anyway i know why you're here, you slut. let's make conversation by pushing wolvie's buttons some more, yeah?
"if they could fix your world, what's the first thing you're gonna do when you get outta here? some rubbing alcohol shots? maybe a wiper fluid chaser?"
laura's gaze slowly turns to you. "what did you say?"
"i said when you get back, what's the first thing you're gonna do-"
"no no, before that."
"if-" you catch yourself. shit. "-they can fix your world?"
with an aggressive slam on the break, your seatbelt doesn't even have time to prevent your head from colliding with the dashboard. and as the car stops, you know there's nothing that can save you from the rage behind wolverine's tone.
"what do you mean if?" she asks through gritted teeth, body fully turned to face you.
"i mean-"
"you lied to me. you don't have a fucking clue if they could help me fix things. do you?"
"no, but i mean-" you start to defend yourself before three metal claws impale your thigh, and probably extend under you all the way through to your seat. "agh- fuck! fuck! i didn't lie!"
"you lied!"
"no! i made an educated wish!"
laura only tilts her head at your defense, eyebrows furrowing.
"because i need you," you continue as you unfold the photo that was in your pocket and hold it up for her to see. "this is why. right here. cause if we don't do something, they die. i don't know anything about saving worlds, and why would i even care? cause my entire world is right here in this picture. it's only nine people, and i have no idea how to save it alone. i know how to fuck people up for money but you- YOU know how to save them... at least the other wolverine did-" at that last comment, laura twists her claws in your thigh, striking enough pain for more curses to escape your mouth. "f-fuck! ah- i guess i'm stuck with the worst one-"
"did you just say you made an educated... fucking wish?"
"they call me the merc with the mouth. they don't call me truthful timmy the blowjob queen of sass catoo-"
the three metal blades are quickly removed from your thigh only to be brought up next to your face. laura's shaky breath exercises seem to be the only thing keeping her from slicing you apart.
"one more word... please, give me one." her guttural voice is a low warning. you wait a moment as if thinking to a random word generator in your brain.
"~gubernatorial~" you say simply before cowaring behind flailing arms when laura prepares to stab you in the face, only fake you out. her breaths are deeper, more steady as if she's trying to calm herself.
"you know what? you're a fucking joke... no wonder the avengers didn't take you, or the x-men or fuckin anyone. i mean you are a ridiculous, immature, half-wit moron. i have never met a sadder, more attention-starved, jabbering, little prick in my entire life. and that says a lot 'cause i've been alive for over two hundred fucking years." the volume in her voice begins to rise with each word, striking your emotions further and further as you sit there speechless, yet her anger keeps rising. "and i'll tell ya- that villain chick was right about one thing: you will NEVER save the world. you couldn't even save a relationship with a goddamn stripper! and motherfucker i wish i could say you'd die alone, but it's one of GOD'S best jokes that you can't die! except that's all on all of US!"
she hits nerve after nerve. the pain in your chest hurts too fucking bad. you are not only speechless, you never want to speak again. you have millions of words to say yet none at all.
how fucking dare she bring up vanessa like that? who does laura think she is? no fucking hero, that's for goddamn sure.
"you got nothing to say, mouth?" she asks, almost out of breath from yelling accusations.
all you can manage to say is one sentence. and she doesn’t even fucking deserve the warning too. "i'm gonna fight you now."
wolverine only snorts, a pitiful laugh towards your remark. "oh, are you?"
you take note how a quick punch to her nose shuts her right up, and watch in satisfaction how blood trickles out her nostril down to her upper lip. your small victory is cut short by her fist colliding to the same spot on your own nose. she pushes you to the window and grabs the back of your mask, then slams your face down onto the center head unit multiple times. different radio stations flick back and forth as you make contact with the buttons and nozzles, eventually landing on a song from the original 'grease' soundtrack.
♡ last gore x nsfw warning !! :3 ♡
you lift your hand to grab one of your swords but another punch to the cheek causes your vision to cloud. by the time you come to your senses, laura has buckled your seatbelt and is digging her left claw into your stomach, twisting her hand slowly.
“not talkin’ now, are ya?” she growls before withdrawing her claws and moving to stab you again. pulling the lever on the side of your car seat, you fall backwards to quickly dodge her blow. you kick your foot against her shoulder to keep her back, and then tightly wrap your legs around her head. another three blades enter your side in a sudden motion, causing you to release your chokehold.
“agh! you dirty bitch!” you shout before kicking her out the front windshield of the honda. you laugh and point as she rolls and tumbles through the leaves and dirt. as soon as she gets up, you unsheathe your swords while she sprints back to you. she’s a fucking animal—ramming herself into the front of the car, causing the airbag to go off on your stomach and send you flying back into the reclined seat.
laura jumps through the broken windshield and lands claws first on top of your already bloodied body. slash after slash, you both further each others’ injuries until you flip laura over and pin her down to the seat. there is surprise in her eyes with a hint of something else that you can’t quite pinpoint. trying to catch your breath, she only looks up at you with a ratted smile, as if amused to see you attempting to kill her. blood stains her face and fanged teeth, and her short hair is tangled and damp with sweat. fuck—it’s a sight. with your elbow against her chest, you’re still close enough to smell her alcohol-tainted breath.
“need a mint, you preening slut?” you ask before you are flying through the sunroof of the honda and falling to the ground outside the car. after kicking yourself up, your little wolvie gestures for you to come back with a simple hand wave behind the window. who are you to keep her waiting? throwing the swords over your shoulders, you take out your baby knives before running back to the car and jumping through the window.
broken glass and blood is everywhere, but neither of you care. you’re both having too much fun trying to murder the other as you take turns regenerating. it’s a pointless waste of time and energy. a total meaningless circle of fighting and healing.
you pin laura through the broken windshield and onto the front hood of the car, stabbing her shoulder and arms repeatedly with a knife. the sleeves of her suit eventually fall apart, fabric scattering and leaving her muscular arms to your gaze. so clearly you’re distracted. she grabs your wrist behind her and heaves your arm over her head to hold you in her place for a moment to catch her breath.
she then drags you by the belt from across the car and holds you down with her body in the back seat. her claws sink through the red fabric and into your sides. again. and again. the repetitive motions of the sharp metal soon causes a big tear in the fabric of your suit, exposing the skin under your breast. it seems as if neither of you notice at first, continuously fighting until another stretch from her pinning your arms above your head causes a terrible ripping sound. you both stop and look down, unsure on who has the decency to yield the fight first.
wolverine pauses for a moment, hovering over your bare tit before suddenly attacking your nipple with her mouth. there is nothing gentle about it, and you can’t tell if her actions are still a way of fighting with the harsh ways her sharp teeth nip and bite.
you lay there for a moment in shock, chest heaving up and down in short spurts as you try to breathe. your hands drop the knives to the car floor behind you, yet your wrists are still trapped in the wolverine’s grip. before you can think to stop it, a breathy whimper escapes your lips. the sound pricks laura to come to her senses and looks up at you with a flushed expression.
fucking hell. if you weren’t okay with what’s happening, you would’ve said something by now. even laura knows that—considering how fucking chatty you are.
“were ya hungry, peanut? needed a mid-fight snack?” you tease, tilting your head with a raised brow.
“i didn’t say i was finished.” she smirks before lowering her head to your chest again. her tongue circles and flicks at your nipple, treating it oh so lovingly before biting and pulling at it so fucking roughly. you chew on your bottom lip to muffle your own moans—all because you’re too stubborn to let her know how fucking good it feels.
she’s holding herself back, yet you kick her chest and propel her weight backwards onto the head unit, while the momentum pushes you the opposite direction into the third row of seats. as she falls, the grease song playing from the radio is muted, leaving you two to a short-lived silence.
"i was wrong—the honda odyssey fucks hard,” you say, rolling your head back and cracking your neck in the process. looking back to laura, you usher her to you with a teasing two-finger motion. “too bad you don't, needle dick.”
“oh, we’re just getting started, bub,” she replies, eyeing your manspread position before lunging to you again.
calling her an animal is to say the fucking least. but you’re no better. she rips and tears your suit, not giving a single fuck in the world that you may need to keep it in tact for later in the plot line. she pulls the tough fabric apart, exposing your tits to her lingering eyes. it’s like a switch is flipped. all of a sudden she can’t get enough, wanting- needing to see more of you. for a moment, you just let her. your belt is removed followed by your pants all while you just lay back and watch her do the work. soon you’re only in your black underwear, smirking under your red and black mask at how fucking needy she looks. her callused hands grip your waist, easily pulling you up to her as her mouth finds your other nipple.
“you’re not you when your hungry. and clearly, you always seem incredibly hungry, wolvie.”
“shuh du phvck uh.” is what you make of her boob-drunk gibberish and assume she’s simply cussing you out.
“huh? couldn’t quite catch that. y’ know you really shouldn’t talk with your mouth full-”
a large, gloved hand muffles your masked mouth before her lips release your tit with a pop.
“off,” she says. you furrow your eyebrows in confusion and she must be able to tell by your silence, causing her to elaborate quickly while her free hand lingers on the black lace of your underwear. “i don’t want a damn word out of your filthy mouth until you’ve taken these off. if you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna have to let me.”
fucking hell. panties are soaking wet right now.
you slowly nod your head in her restrictive grip, and lift your hips to remove the damp fabric from your body. damp from blood or sweat or something else… who fucking knows and who fucking cares. you toss them to the side and immediately pull laura closer to you. her harsh kisses mark your neck and collarbone before she wets her middle finger with her tongue and starts to rub quick circles on your clit. you almost push her away, her starting speed too overstimulating at first, but you soon get used to it, bucking your hips in a physical ask to move faster.
“keep still, sweetheart. that’s it,” fuck even her praise is still low and demanding somehow. you wrap your hands around her hairy forearm, hissing curses as you feel yourself grow closer and closer to the edge.
“fuck- you know, i bet you’re a pretty good dj in some other univers- oh my god!” your silly quip is cut short by her pushing one finger into you. then another. and before you know it, you’re a blubbering mess as you soak her hand as well as the car seat beneath you. her mouth is against your masked ear, shushing your witticism. white rings of cum coat up to her knuckles while her thumb resumes a quick pace on your clit.
banter is over as quiet whimpers replace your usual chatterbox routine. her large fingers feel so much better than your own, and then that’s where she leaves you—fingers curling inside your cunt causing your brain to see stars. your orgasm hits you hard, but not as hard as she does—a rough slap to your face intensifies every sensation, leaving you pained like putty in her grasp as you come down from your high. “don’t got much to say now, huh?”
your eyes focus on her hair and how it twirls up on both sides—the classic hairstyle for any and all wolverine’s across the multiverse. “why do~you style~your hair like that?” your voice slurs with dizzy haze, and laura only looks down at your drunken state quizzically. “were ya going f’ wolf? ‘cause it makes ya look more like a cat. like my little meow meow~”
a growl creeps from the back of her throat before three claws find a home—digging into the flesh on your shoulder.
“shit! you angry ‘bout it, mama?” you ask teasingly before watching her slowly remove her belt. “no- not the belt! i won’t be a naughty girl, i swear!”
“don’t be dramatic,” she scoffs as she tosses the belt aside and straddles you again.
“that’s kinda my job. hashtag drama queen. hashtag full-time. ‘round the clock. just like how your full time job is hiding a fully comic accurate superhero suit under your clothes for when its use comes once every twenty fucking years.”
that switched something in her. she yanks your mask off your head and glares down into your eyes. then a smirk sneaks its way onto her lips. fuck. what does she know that you don’t?
“you think this suit is the only thing i keep under my clothes?” your jaw tenses when laura unzips her pants and allows her strap to spring out to your view. it has to be at least eight to nine inches, the color matches her skin tone and the base of it connects to the black harness buckled around her boxers.
“marvel jesus h. christ! where did you even get that thing? the prop table from the set of alien?!"
you half-expect an answer, but she only lifts your mask and forces a mouthful of the red fabric down your throat, leaving your fear-factored size question hanging in the air. “there… silence is nice. isn’t it?” you’ve lost your voice, but you don’t protest. your frustrated whimpers are muffled and shaky breaths escape through your nose as laura traces her dick up and down your wetted lips. “just relax, beautiful,” she whispers as she slips the tip into you. the tone of her voice is teasing, clearly loving how much power she so easily has over you. pushing in deeper, her pace stays agonizingly slow, as if she’s having to think about controlling every thrust. your eyes follow the grinding movements of her hips and your legs instinctively wrap around her waist. as laura starts to speed up, your backside rubs against the car seat. trying to find a sense of stability, your hands scatter up the butch’s clothed torso and eventually grip her broad shoulders. you can’t help but buck your hips again, no longer ashamed of how fucking needy you look doing so. one of her hands claw at the shoulder of the seat behind you while the other has a strong hold on your hip, guiding your body with hers. guiding soon turns to holding and holding soon turns to pinning. not only is she now chasing her high, but she will do whatever she needs to get to it.
“agh~ fuck. is this what you wanted? to be wrapped around me like this? you’re so pathetic, it’s adorable.”
when all you can do is moan in reply, laura knows she’s fucked you stupid, but still long ways away from being done with you. she suddenly stops altogether and pulls out of you, chuckling quietly when you groan due to your pleasure being delayed. she turns you over and props you up on your knees, then holds you down by the back of the neck with one hand and finds a firm grip on your ass with the other. her relentless thrusts continue, causing a repetitive sound of her hips slamming into the backs of your thighs. every time she pulls back, you follow her dick—leaning to her to chase that friction.
she hits nerve after nerve. the pain hurts too fucking good. your words are still muffled against your ladypool mask, the fabric now damp with saliva and drool. maybe tears as well.
“speak up, princess. ‘s hard to hear you,” laura instructs as she removes the piece from your mouth.
“i… i’m… gonna-” you start before trailing off, finding it hard to focus on words as laura speeds up her pace.
“what, pretty thing? y’ gonna cum?”
“tha-that’s what she said!” of course. of-fucking-course those are the words you can get to leave your stuttering mouth.
“god—do you ever shut the fuck up?” laura groans before tossing your mask to the side and holding your hips steady. when she notices your silence, she leans forward, a hand massaging your tit and her teeth taking a harsh bite at your earlobe. “or maybe you just need to be fucked speechless, don’t you?”
yes. a million times yes.
quiet whimpers leave your lips, the smell of cigars and alcohol mixed with the stench of blood and sex is almost overwhelming. laura slows her pace again, taking her sweet time watching, playing, torturing you for pleasure. that sadistic fuck.
“i do love these cute little noises you’re making, yeh? tell me how good it feels. i know it feels good but i wanna hear you say it—come on. spit it out,” she says into your ear. her lips have gone dry from breathing heavily and sweat trickles down her forehead and nose. the torn fabric of her yellow and navy blue suit rug-burns against your skin from all the excessive movement, but you don’t care. laura pulls your arms behind your back before yanking a seat belt out of its buckles to wrap tightly around your wrists. the rough material hurts, but it’s a good-hurt. when you only let out a porn-styled moan (half-exaggerating to poke fun at her), the wolverine behind you reaches under your neck and grabs your jaw. “you’ not gonna use that mouth?”
“fuck- okay! yes, it feels good. you feel so fucking good. just- please, let me- let me cum!”
and your begs get so easily rewarded. laura must have a soft spot for you because her thrusts speed up again, and this time hit hard with no intention of stopping.
what has little wolvie turned you into, hm? you, ladypool, a beggar? breaking out of character many would argue, but maybe that’s her goal: finding what breaks you.
“not yet. shit- wait ‘til i say.”
the hilt of her strap hits her clit just right as she continues to drive herself into your pretty cunt. as minutes pass and breaths quicken, her metal claws unsheathe and dig themselves into the seat beneath you two. she’s close.
with clamped hands still tied behind your back, you sense that knot in your stomach growing. guttural sounds from the back of the throat slip from laura’s lips, filling your ears as she hits your g-spot again and again, pushing you so quickly towards your release for the second time.
“right there! plea- please, please! i’m… gonna-”
“go on, sweetheart. fucking cum~”
at her words, her command—you feel yourself tighten around her. and your moans must’ve been what did it for her because immediately after—husky groans are heard from behind your bare, trembling body. the heavy weight of a wolverine falls against you, breathing hard onto your skin as her sweat-coated face buries itself into the nape of your neck. a trail of little bite marks, enhanced by her small fangs, are left scattered across your shoulders and upper back.
her middle finger finds your clit again to draw little circles, bringing out pitiful whimpers and post-sex muscle spasms from your worn out body.
“ca- canada…”
your contorted face and senselessness brings her to hum—which is her version of a laugh in this dizzy state. she broke you. and it didn’t take very much, did it?
she turns your chin to look up at her, her face reflecting that drunken haze with the ghost of a smile across her lips. her focus falls to your parted mouth for a moment before finally connecting her lips with yours. the kiss is softer than you expect, as if her hunger’s satisfied, yet the warm taste of cigars and alcohol linger.
“y’ did good, sweetheart.”
just good? must she always be so condescending?
♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡
spent way too long on this lol comment/repost if you like it, loves !!
this is so gonna flop but idc i wrote it for me and bookie 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩
taglist: @pr1ncessjo <3
102 notes · View notes
vmpivory · 19 hours
Text
UNSCRiPTED ── yang jungwon
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★ ——  ‎𝓲N WHICH `⠀◌  rivals l/n y/n and yang jungwon are cast as romantic leads in their school play. with no chemistry and lots of arguing, their teacher suggests fake dating. as they spend more time together, they start to wonder if their feelings are real or just for the play.
✶ - 𝓰𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲 : rivals to lovers , fake dating , fluff , comfort (?) ✶ - 𝓹𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : yang jungwon x fem reader ✶ - 𝓯𝗲𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : minji and hyein ✶ - 𝔀𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝓬𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁 : 2.7k
꒰ ⠀ !  ꒱ . .⠀ 𝔀ARNINGS vulgar language (only used 2-3 times), skinship in some scenes, arguments, bad attempt at humor ( lmk if there are more! ) ..
❪ reblogs and feedback are always appreciated! <3 ❫
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L/N Y/N STOOD frozen in front of the cast list, eyes narrowing as she scanned it for the third time.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” she muttered under her breath.
Beside her, a voice snickered. "What’s the matter, y/n? Can't handle the pressure?"
She didn’t need to look to know who it was. The familiar annoying tone belonged to none other than Yang Jungwon, her rival in almost everything. Of course, she would get to play romantic leads with him.
Y/N whipped her head around, glaring at him. "You have to be joking. There’s no way we’re playing the romantic leads. That has to be a mistake."
Jungwon shrugged casually, his lips curving into an annoying smile. "I don’t know. Looks pretty official to me."
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"PARK Y/N, YANG Jungwon—my star-crossed lovers! How do you feel about your roles and the script?" Ms. Choi’s smile was wide, far too pleased with herself.
Y/N’s mouth opened, but no words came out. Jungwon, ever the smooth talker, crossed his arms over his chest and fake smiled. "Oh we love it!" Y/N rolled her eyes and elbowed him before answering, "Ma'am there must be a mistake because I really can't pretend I love him. Please, can you change the roles? I'm sure someone else would love to be the male lead." "Hey, if you don't like it why don't you give up your role! I'm staying as the male lead and your role is gonna get changed." Ms. Choi raised an eyebrow, glancing between the two of them. "Now, now, there's no mistake. You two are perfect for the roles." "Ms. Choi, with all due respect, we have zero chemistry. And this script... it's all about chemistry." Jungwon snorted. "Yeah, negative chemistry. Like me and math." "Well, if we were a science experiment, we’d definitely be a total failure." She rolled her eyes. Ms. Choi chuckled, clearly unbothered by their protests. "Ah, but that's the beauty of acting, my dears. Chemistry can be built, just like any good relationship."
Y/N shot Jungwon a death glare. "There's no way I can 'build chemistry' with him." "You guys, look. I had this same situation two years ago. The main leads couldn't even stay in the same room with each other but you know what they did? Fake dating. It helped a lot and the play was amazing. I suggest you two give it a try." Y/N’s eyes widened. "Fake dating? Are you serious?"
Ms. Choi nodded enthusiastically. "Absolutely. It’s a proven method. It’ll help you both get into character and build that on-stage chemistry." Jungwon raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued despite himself. "You think that’ll actually work?" Ms. Choi just nodded with a smile.
Y/N groaned, crossing her arms. "This is ridiculous. But fine, if it means we can avoid turning this play into a disaster, I’ll do it." Jungwon’s smirk turned into a genuine smile. "Great. Looks like you're now.. my fake girlfriend." Y/N glared at him, feeling the familiar spark of rivalry flare up. "Don't think this means I’m going easy on you. I’ll be the best fake girlfriend you’ve ever had. And probably you ever will." As Ms. Choi walked away before smiling, Jungwon turned to y/n with a grin. "Guess we better get used to it. You ready for our first 'date,' sweetheart?"
"Don't push your luck, Yang Jungwon."
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Y/N FIDGETED WITH the edge of her jacket as she walked into the small café at the corner of their neighborhood. It wasn’t exactly a romantic spot, more of a hangout place for high schoolers trying to avoid homework. But here she was, on her first fake date with Yang Jungwon, of all people.
Jungwon was already seated at a booth near the window, scrolling through his phone as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He looked up when he noticed her standing awkwardly at the entrance, smirking as he waved her over.
"Right on time, girlfriend," he teased as she sat down, emphasizing the last word in a way that annoyed y/n. She plastered on a fake smile. "Let’s just get this over with. What’s the plan?"
Jungwon shrugged, leaning back in his seat with that same annoyingly calm attitude. "We’re supposed to build chemistry, right? Let’s just act natural. Pretend like we actually, you know, like each other."
Y/N scoffed. "Like that’s even possible."
"Hey, it’s called acting for a reason." "My acting skills are not good enough to pretend I like you." She rolled her eyes. Jungwon grinned, leaning forward on the table. "Come on, it can’t be that hard. I’m pretty likable when you try."
Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Really? I must’ve missed that version of you." He chuckled, completely unbothered by her sarcasm. "Alright, if pretending to like me is nearly impossible for you, let's start with something easier. Like having a normal conversation. Without insults." "Impossible." "I'm starting to think you are not that good at acting." "Okay fine," She sighed in frustration. "I'll try to be less insulting." Jungwon leaned back in his seat, folding his arms. "Now that’s progress. See? We’re already improving."
Y/N shot him a pointed glare. "Don't get too comfortable. This is for the play, not for you. Plus, this play is super important for me." He raised an eyebrow. "I wanted auditioned for an acting agency and they will be watching the play to decide if I'm good enough or not. So I'm gonna be blaming you if I don't pass." Jungwon’s smirk faltered slightly as he processed her words. "Wait, you’re serious? You’re auditioning for an agency?"
Y/N nodded, her expression firm. "Yeah. I’ve wanted this for a long time. This play is my chance to prove I can actually do this, and I can’t afford to mess it up. So, if you screw this up for me, I swear—" Jungwon raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, relax. I know we clash, but I genuinely want you to succeed too. This isn’t just about me." She blinked, surprised at his sincerity. "You better." Jungwon leaned forward, his expression getting serious. "Look, I know we don't really get along. But this play is important is important for both of us, especially you. I'm not trying to mess up your chances. In fact, I hope you get accepted." Y/N frowned, unsure of how to response to his unexpected support. "Why are you being suddenly so.. nice?" "Hey, I have a heart too."
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"SO," JUNGWON STARTED, breaking the silence as they walked side by side to home, "We survived our first fake date. Not too bad, right?"
Y/N rolled her eyes playfully. "Speak for yourself."
He chuckled. "Ouch. Harsh but fair."
They continued walking in the silence, not having any eye contact.
As they approached a fork in the path where their ways would divide, Jungwon cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, I guess I’ll see you at rehearsal?"
Y/N nodded, feeling a pang of disappointment that the evening was coming to an end. "Yeah. Rehearsal, right."
With a nod, Jungwon turned around and started walking the other way, down the street. 
Maybe pretending to be Jungwon's girlfriend wasn't so bad.
She shook her head, trying to clear it. "What am I thinking?" she muttered to herself, quickening her pace home.
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Y/N TRIED TO focus on her lines, but her mind kept wandering back to Jungwon. He was across the stage, laughing with some of the other cast members, looking so effortlessly charming.
"Earth to y/n!" Minji, her friend and fellow cast member, waved a hand in front of her face. "You good?"
Y/N blinked, snapping back to reality. "Yeah, totally. Just... lost in thought."
"About Jungwon?" Minji teased, nudging her playfully.
Y/N shot her a look. "I mean, we’re just... acting. It’s complicated. It feels like I should hate him, but deep down, it’s not that simple."
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"CUT!" MS. CHOI called out. "Jungwon and y/n," She sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose before continuing. "I still don't see the chemistry. This is our 7th try!"
Y/N shot Jungwon a look, half-exasperated and half-amused. “Sorry, Ms. Choi. We’re really working on it.”
Jungwon leaned closer, whispering just loud enough for y/n to hear. “Maybe we should try to actually like each other for a moment?” She rolled her eyes but felt a smile creeping in despite herself. “Yeah, because that’s so easy right?” “Okay, everyone, let’s take five,” Ms. Choi announced, her tone softer now. “Grab some water and reset your minds.” As the cast split up, y/n turned to Jungwon, crossing her arms. "Can you at least try a bit more? This is important for me, you know!" "I know, I know. I'm trying my best but you should too." Y/N snorted. "I'm already giving my best!" "You are clearly not!" Jungwon shot back. "Maybe if you tried to hide your face expressions, it would be better!" "Or maybe, you are not good at acting as you think you are!" She paused, the air thick with tension. “What did you just say?” Y/N demanded, her voice low. Jungwon took a step back, realizing he had crossed a line. "I meant—" "No, you don’t get to take it back now," Y/N interrupted, her heart pounding. "You think I’m not trying hard enough? I’ve been working my ass off for this role! You know this is important to me!" "Maybe if you weren’t so wrapped up in your own expectations, you’d see that it’s not all on me!" Jungwon shot back. "This isn’t just about you, y/n!" “Alright, let's start again!” Ms. Choi called, her voice cutting through the thick tension in the air. Their five minute break was wasted in a stupid argument, great. Y/N and Jungwon took their positions. “Why can’t you just trust me?” Jungwon said, following the script. “Trust? You’re the last person I’d trust!” Ms. Choi watched intently, a satisfied smile spreading across her face. “Yes! Keep that energy!” She mumbled to herself. For a moment, it felt like they were really connecting. Y/N could see the flicker of something genuine in Jungwon’s expression, and she felt herself relaxing into the performance. But then, as the scene reached its climax, the lines began to blur between acting and reality. “Maybe if you weren’t so self-absorbed, you’d see what’s really happening!” Jungwon snapped, his tone rising, the frustration from their earlier argument spilling over. Y/N's eyes widened slightly. What the hell was he thinking? That was not in the script. She didn't know why and how but she also got out of her character. "Self-absorbed? Says the one with a big fat ego!" Jungwon’s eyes flashed with annoyance, and he took a step closer, his voice lowering dangerously. "You think I have a big ego? You’re so focused on your own expectations that you’re missing the bigger picture—we both want this to succeed." Y/N's heart pounded as the tension between them mounted. This wasn’t acting anymore. Their real feelings—the frustration, the rivalry—were bleeding into the scene. Y/N’s hands clenched at her sides, and for a moment, she forgot they were on stage, with everyone’s eyes on them. "Oh, I’m the one acting like that? Maybe if you weren’t so busy pretending to be cool all the time, you’d realize you're not the center of the universe either!" Jungwon scoffed, taking another step forward, closing the gap between them. "Pretending? I’m not pretending anyt—" “Enough!” Ms. Choi’s voice rang out, breaking the intensity of the moment. She stood up from her chair, clapping slowly, her expression a mixture of amusement and disbelief.
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Y/N STARED AT her reflection in the mirror backstage, adjusting her costume for the big ballroom scene. She smoothed down the soft fabric of her dress, trying to calm her racing heart. Tonight was the first full rehearsal with the whole cast, and everything needed to be perfect. The play was tomorrow and this was her chance to prove herself.
But as usual, her mind drifted back to Jungwon.
After the little argument, they went on a few fake dates again. But their chemistry didn't seem to be there, let alone improve. 
"Why do you look so stressed?" Hyein asked, popping her head around the corner. "It’s just rehearsal."
"I know, I know but.. I don't think I'm gonna do well," Y/N sighed, rubbing her temples as the nerves crept in again. "I just feel like something's off. And if I mess this up, I’ll probably never get the chance to be a real actress again."
Hyein stepped into the dressing room, offering her a reassuring smile. "You’ve been doing great so far. Everyone's seen how much effort you've put into this role. You’ll be fine."
Y/N forced a smile but still felt the unease bubbling under the surface. "Thanks, but it’s not just the play. It’s Jungwon."
Hyein raised an eyebrow. "What about him?"
"Since the little argument... nothing’s been the same. We’ve gone on these fake dates, just like Ms. Choi suggested, but it’s not helping. If anything, it’s made everything more awkward. We can barely look at each other without the tension ruining the scene. And—"
"Hey," a familiar voice called out, making them both look away. "Can we talk?"
It was Jungwon.
Y/N’s heart skipped a beat as Jungwon stood at the doorway, his expression unreadable. Hyein glanced between them, giving y/n a knowing look before excusing herself.
Y/N shifted uncomfortably, trying to hide the whirlwind of emotions that surfaced whenever Jungwon was around. "What is it?" she asked, her voice a little sharper than she intended.
Jungwon stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. "I just... I wanted to talk before we go out there. This is the last rehearsal you know, it's important." Y/N crossed her arms, feeling the tension immediately creep back in. "About what? If you're gonna tell me I'm not good at acting again, no thank you."
He hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck—a gesture she’d come to recognize as his way of stalling. "Look, I know we don't really get along and you hate me, I hate you.."
She nodded slightly as he continued.
"..and I know we’re supposed to be faking this whole... 'dating' thing for the play, but I think that’s the problem. We are forcing it a little too much. Just... think of me as the guy you like or something, okay?"
Y/N blinked, her heart racing at Jungwon’s unexpected suggestion. "You mean, just act like we actually really really like each other? You think that's easy?"
"Hey, you're a good actress. You said it yourself." He smiled and chuckled faintly before leaving the dressing room.
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Y/N AND JUNGWON stood under a starlit sky, the backdrop of a cozy rooftop terrace adorned with fairy lights and soft cushions. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, creating a serene atmosphere for their characters.
“Isn’t it beautiful?” Y/N’s character, Liv, gazed out over the city, her voice a soft whisper. “Sometimes, I forget how lovely the world can be.”
Jungwon, playing the charming yet mysterious Johnny, stepped closer. “It is,” he replied, his tone warm. “But it’s even more beautiful when shared with someone special.” Y/N turned to him, her heart racing. "Someone special, huh? You mean like a star-crossed lover?"
"Exactly," Jungwon said, a playful glint in his eyes. "Someone who makes the ordinary feel extraordinary."
"Do you really believe in love like that?” Y/N asked, tilting her head as she searched his face for answers. "What if that star is too far away to reach?" Jungwon took her hands, his gaze intense. “Then I’ll climb every mountain, cross every ocean, and travel the whole universe just to be with that star. Which is you.” "Me?" Without breaking character, Jungwon closed the distance between them, pressing his lips against hers. He was still holding her hand, gently squeezing it. Despite her irritation, a flutter of excitement raced through her as their lips met, leaving her speechless. As they broke apart, the audience erupted in applause. The curtains closed, signaling the end of the play.
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"WHAT THE HELL Jungwon?! That was not in the script!"
Jungwon chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I know, dumbass. I did it on purpose."
“On purpose? Are you trying to ruin everything?” Y/N crossed her arms, torn between annoyance and the thrill of what had just happened.
“Come on, Y/N! We’re supposed to sell the romance. That kiss? It was the spark the audience needed! Don't tell me you didn't enjoy it!” Jungwon leaned closer, grinning.
Y/N's expression softened, a soft smile lighting up in her face. "Yeah, I guess I did."
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.vmpivory    ©    all rights reserved    ━    2024
AUTHOR's NOTE i've been thinking about this for a while now and i am so excited that finally wrote this !! this is my first work on here so i hope ygs enjoyed it ! so like.. this sucks. but i tried my best TT and yes, i named the girl liv ( WHICH IS ME ) bc i'm delulu like that eheh :D
PERM TAGLiST: @wonsprincess
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genericpuff · 3 days
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Wait, if Hera hated nymphs, does that mean she had beef with Poseidon's wife???
Who knows, but it does shed a whole new light on this scene from Episode 1:
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Like, in the context of the scene, it's clear the point of this interaction is to highlight how "lonely" Hades is that he's the only one at the party without a date. Though I do think it's funny that Hades is frustrated / shocked at the revelation that Poseidon brought his wife to a party that she would presumably be invited to attend, like... of course Poseidon is here with his wife, that makes Amphitrite royalty by extension and so at the very least she'd likely be obligated to attend even if she, for some reason, didn't want to go.
So Hades being like "GOD you mean I'm the ONLY UNMARRIED GUY without a DATE???" like yeah man that's what it means to not be married LOL
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But in hindsight, knowing what we know now about Hera being cruel to satyrs and nymphs who are canonically lower class (making it a double whammy of racism AND classism) that interaction of Hades asking Hera if Poseidon brought Amphitrite right after Hera called Minthe "nymph trash" almost feels like Hades calling her out, to which she responds sheepishly, "... Yes."
Again, I know that's not the intention of this scene, but it does come with deeper implications now that the series is over and we know that Hera has a history of racism and classism which largely goes unaddressed.
And those implications kind of read like this:
Hera: "I, for one, am grateful! I don't have to spend the evening with that nymph trash :)"
Hades: "Did Poseidon bring his (oceanid) wife?"
Hera: "(・_・;)... yes, okay, Poseidon brought his wife, Amphritite, but she's not nymph trash or anything, she's one of the good ones!"
Again though, just food for thought that's kinda messed up and kinda funny to think about on re-reads. There's so much classism and racism baked into LO even from the very beginning and it's wild that it wound up going unnoticed for years. Even I didn't really notice it as much as I ought to have when I first started reading. To anyone who's new to the series, LO does a good job at bombarding you with colors, characters, Greek myth references, and feel good fluff moments between H x P to distract you from the often biased and outdated viewpoints in its narrative.
TBH, none of that is to say that Rachel herself is some massive racist for writing a story like this, but I do think she didn't really spend enough time analyzing the works that clearly inspired her and/or challenging her own inspirations to ensure she wasn't continuing the cycle of casual racism. It's really easy to be blissfully aware of your own biases if you never learn to address them, especially when it comes to writing fantasy stories which we tend to "disconnect" from real life, never once realizing that the messages and undertones we might accidentally be sending are often still realities for many people in real life today. Fiction isn't real life, sure, but it can still perpetuate some really dog shit thought patterns and subconscious beliefs if left unchecked, which LO is frankly full of especially upon re-reads with a more critical eye when you're not as likely to get distracted or swept away by the pretty colors and whirlwind romance.
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wlwmedarda · 22 hours
Text
I'm honestly just looking to rant and this might be long depending on how fast I get irritated the more I type so if this isn't coherent or well written I apologize in advance. Since it looks like Ambessa will take on a more antagonistic role in arcane season two, I would like to unpack the fandom's antiblackness that you guys are either blind to or aware and too pussy to call it out as my gut is telling me it's gonna increase and if no one is gonna start the difficult conversation then I sure as hell will.
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Sevika:
Mel:
Starting off strong with the definition of "you guys want complex female characters but can't even handle her". Mel Medarda is in quite the predicament seeing how she's morally grey, a black woman, AND "gets in the way" of a mlm ship so she was kinda screwed from the start. A cunning politician disowned for her pacifism who acts as a sort of bridge to Noxus' slow introduction, and is THE ONLY CHARACTER IN THE SEASON 1 MAIN CAST SPECIFICALLY CREATED FOR THE SHOW. She's treated like satan incarnate or a Jezebel (highly suggest looking into that if you don't know what that is), GOOD character analysis is rare, and when she is talked about positively, it's so often chalked up to appearances that I'd rather yall not talk about her at all. Oh you love Mel? Then can we talk about her relationship with her mother? Unpack her dynamic with Jayce? Maybe more fanworks centered around her? I've seen yall's fake asses dropping the shittiest fucking takes about her only to turn around and gush over how pretty she is, and yall think you're slick about it and you're not. I would say I prefer the ones who are loud and proud about their hatred but that'd be a lie, they're two cheeks on the same ass; annoying and couldn't give a decent break down of her character if a gun was pointed at they head even she's perfect to dissect. I could talk about her more but we'd be here all day and so many black women even from outside the fanbase have already talked about yall so there's no need for me to add on 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀��🤷🏾‍♀️.
Quick question, have you guys ever tried to talk about her in a non sexual way? Yes, Sevika is undeniably sexy and you could argue that true stans of hers talk about her outside of horny time, but a good half of the fandom is a different story. In a similar case to Mel's, deep dives into her character are rare to find which is crazy when she acts as Zaun's own "kingmaker". She's loyal to her city and the cause, never to a specific person and will not hesitate to betray you. She could be your right hand man one day, and the next she might find a better kingpin to follow and stab you in the back like it all meant nothing. "Were you tempted?" "Not for a worm like him". Simple and subtle and probably my favorite Sevika scene; she comes to realize Silco is no longer the best leader for Zaun, but he's as good as it gets for now and so she sticks by him. I remember a YouTube comment breaking down how she's essentially the quintessential Zaun: a brute warrior molded by her environment, who defied Vander's peaceful ways and embraced Silco's cruelty. Her mindset and goal is interesting and you'd think it'd result in some fascinating meta or exploration of her upbringing when we got a hint that she potentially has some daddy issues right? Obviously, but what do we get instead? White sapphics treating her like nothing more than a sexual object. How delightful!
Ekko:
This might partially be Riot's fault because — and I hate to sound like a league lore nerd — Ekko is quite underdeveloped compared to the richer origins of his former pre arcane self, but I'm gonna hold off on that till the season finale to see how they handle him. Anyways, at this point the fandom clearly sees him as Jinx's trophy husband. When you talk about him, she is brought into the convo 90% of the time. That's exactly why I prefer black timebomb shippers over the nonblack ones because I trust they actually love Ekko as a character on his own. Even though I have my complaints regarding how's been written so far, I still know he's too good to be reduced to Jinx's loverboy. He fights and cares for his city, the only character that you can confidently say is pure of heart, and is the revolutionary leader Zaun really needs. He's just as smart as Jinx too, he is literally going to create TIME TRAVEL. Why does no one wanna talk about that? Can we be excited for his character development and arc not just for the timebomb scenes you'll get out of it?
Ambessa:
Can't even deny this woman is awful but her presence on screen enthralled me after a couple of rewatches and I also love bad mothers in media so I've settled on a love/hate relationship. Yes, she's definitely gonna have some influence on Caitlyn, which makes sense since she has now lost her mother; she's vulnerable and as we have seen, naive. She's practically free real estate for Ambessa. My recent worry though has been how the fandom seems to be willing to put all of Caitlyn's actions on her as if Cait isn't a grown ass woman who can make her own decisions. Of course being grown doesn't mean you're immune to manipulation, but I've seen some Silco and Jinx comparisons and it is NOT the same. Mind you we haven't even seen the first three episodes; we don't know how far Ambessa's manipulation is going to go and we can't really tell what the dynamic is gonna be like based off of clips and trailers that are likely shown out of context on purpose to throw people off. I'll never defend her actions, hell I'll join in on the lashings, but my black ass is also not gonna sit here and let yall talk about her weirdly or pin all of this on her.
Some might say I'm overthinking this, but I've been here since November 2021 and have sat back and observed for 2 years. You don't have to write deep, philosophical conversations 24/7, I'm sure it's not all in bad faith and I won't act like I don't thirst over Sevika or marvel at Mel's beauty. I'm not saying you have to like these characters and that you're racist if you don't. My frustration comes from the lack of nuanced conversations and hypocritical opinions surrounding black characters in this show. When you try to say something about this, you're hit with excuses; it reminds me of how man obsessed fujoshis act when they're questioned for not giving two fucks about female characters. They're either reduced to one character trait, only admired for their looks, or only discussed when it's about the white character they're connected to. Do NOT under ANY circumstance be black and morally ambiguous, you WILL be held to higher moral standards than everyone's wittle blorbos who can do wrong and are defended from all sides when you dare to take the rose colored stan glasses off and criticize them. What's really ridiculous is you hear the "complex characters" bullshit every two to three business days and some of you have the nerve to boast about this series being diverse while simultaneously ignoring the complexities in the characters of color. This is the main reason I took a step back and with season two around the corner I thought "Hey, maybe it'll be better this time!" and it was a mistake. Good to know yall still have an underlying racism problem you don't wanna address but with some extra classism thrown in. "What will we do once Arcane ends?" hopefully get a job, touch some grass, and reflect. Lord knows yall need it. The faster yall sizzle out the better. I'm done that's all I have to say lol goodnight 👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽👍🏽.
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venomhound · 18 hours
Text
Hazbin Hotel - Petname Headcanons
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Headcanons for what terms of endearment Vox, Alastor, and Lucifer use in their relationships. I was going to do more characters, but this post got too long (AGAIN), so I just did my favs. If enough people want it, I can do a part 2? Maybe? MAYHAPS?
Contents/WARNINGS: Gender neutral reader; talks about what yall like to be called during sex; Daddy/Mommy kinks; Valentino mention; Lucifer really needs therapy you guys (18+), MDNI, NSFW below the cut ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
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✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿‿✿°•∘୨୧∘•°✿
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Vox ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
What He Calls You
(NOTE: Huge credit to @bindeds for the whole 'Vox does sappy petnames' headcanon. You should read their post with it >here<. Its lived rent free in my head since I read it.)
Honestly? Vox is a menace when it comes to terms of endearment.
Vox loves to get creative and call you super sappy stuff. Things like sugar bear, honey kisses, love dove, cuddle cake.... I pray you can at least tolerate this because I have no doubt that Vox has sent past partners running for the hills by doing this.
These silly names tend to come in waves. Vox will have one that he likes to call you, use it for a short bit, then switch it up for a different one. So if there is one you particularly don't like, at least you never have to deal with it for more then a few days.
Vox doesn't like to talk about you in front of the cameras (he has a deep fear that your going to end up stolen). But when he does, he avoids using your actual name. Instead Vox calls you more... conventionally sappy petnames. Like dearest, or starlight.
Not embarrassed at all about calling you these things in front of millions of viewers. He loves you so much and feels so lucky to have you. In a perfect world and if this wasn't, you know, Hell, Vox would just openly brag about you on air 24/7.
While Vox always seems to have something new to call you, the one name that sticks around and actually gets used consistently is sugar. A classic 50s petname. He thinks it particularly suits you because your, well, sweet as sugar. And you make everything in his life better.
What You Call Him
Vox could not care less what you call him. I don't mean that in a 'he doesn't care' way, no, its the opposite. I mean you could call him literally whatever you want and Vox will love it. He just wants to be called something special and to know he is special to you.
I'm not kidding here. Everything is on the table. Cutesy names, sappy ones, playful nicknames... Literally whatever you want as long as its not straight up demeaning or embarrassing.
Don't call him Voxy though. Yeah, its a cute name he will admit; and it sounds bittersweet coming from your lips. But that name is just far too associated with Valentino. It brings back so many painful memories and raw resentment that Vox would rather not experience in your presence. If he has to at all.
I've always pictured Vox being that guy who never wants to hear his real name come from your mouth once you two start dating. You all know the type of guy I'm talking about. Dude will have an actual breakdown.
You two could be having a serious conversation or heated argument, but as soon as you say 'Vox' nothing else matters to him. Vox just gapes at you and is like "Since when am I VOX to you?! I'M YOUR CUDDLE BEAR." Or insert whatever name you use for him. He says it completely serious too.
NSFW Section
A little ironic considering he hates hearing his actual name come from your mouth normally; but when you two are in the bedroom, Vox wants you to say nothing but his name.
Vox loves nothing more then when he fucks you stupid on his cock or overstimulates you to where his name is the only word you know. When you start moaning his name like a prayer or chanting it as your voice cracks.
There is nothing more beautiful to him then those sounds. Vox could cum from those sounds alone; and he has many times. Times when one of you was away or you two were otherwise separated.
Vox would play back the sounds of your pleading during your last time together to himself. He had been away from you for too long. He desperately needed to hear your voice, his name from your lips. Its like a drug to him.
Vox tends to lean towards gentler, more classic names in the bedroom. He whispers how much he missed you, darling. While his lips greedily take yours again and again. He will kiss down your neck, mumbling against your skin how he cant wait to make his sweetheart feel good. Gorgeous, beautiful, and handsome also frequently leave his lips once more skin starts getting exposed.
I have always headcanoned Vox as a switch. When he veers towards that more dominant, possessive side, he will start using more sexually charged names like babe or kitten. But if you two have been together a long time or you end up tying the knot.... Now Vox just babbles about how perfect his wife or his husband is as he plows into you over and over.
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Alastor ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
What He Calls You
Poor deer man. Quite bluntly, he has no idea what to do when he gets actual feelings for someone. I mean, yeah, he know what to do; in theory. In practice however, its a whole different story. Things are always much easier in theory then actual reality.
Perfect example of this is when you two first become an item and Alastor tries to legitimately flirt with you. Alastor lays it on just a little bit too thick and goes straight to calling you baby.
The entire hotel gets thrown for a loop. Husk chokes on his drink, Angel Dust fucking yowls, and Vaggie is cringing into the next century.
Fun fact: 'baby' first started being used as a term of endearment in the 1920s and was all the rage during that time. So Alastor probably actually used it.
Poor boomer Alastor doesn't understand what happened until he vents to Rosie about it and she laughs at him too. Rosie has to explain to Alastor that the whole 'baby' thing has taken on a much more sexual connotation during the last, you know, hundred years.
Alastor is somehow even more embarrassed about the whole faux pas upon knowing the full context then he was before.
To avoid another, ahem... incident. Alastor just straight up asks what you would like him to call you. As long as its not something too weird or sappy he will oblige.
If you tell him to call you whatever he wants, Alastor is going to be like a deer in the headlights (pun intended) due to what happened last time. Will probably just stick to your name for awhile or test things out in private first.
Alastor is partial to calling you darling, my dear, or just love. Whichever seems to make your heart flutter most.
You can always tell when Alastor is in a particularly good/playful mood because he will call you my doe (if your female) or my buck (if your male). Alastor will also use this name if he is showing you off or you've done something to make him proud of you.
What You Call Him
If you were to ask him? Alastor would tell you to simply call him by his name or just Al. Says he isnt fond of petnames even though he uses them all the time. Guy is strange.
If you do start using petnames he wont stop you. Do keep it classy however. Don't call him anything super silly, or too sexual. He now has a vendetta against the name baby so don't call him that either.
Alastor will never directly say he likes the name, but you have noticed that when you call him love or my love his smile gets a bit wider and his eyes relax a bit.
You can get away with teasing names in private. Like princess for instance. When you first called Alastor that he gave you the dirtiest look. Not in a sexual way. I mean in a 'I dare you to call me that again, brat' way.
The second time you called him princess, Alastor's ears flattened against his head and he warned you to kindly refrain from that name. However, he couldn't hide how his tail was wagging playfully.
The third time you knew exactly what you were doing as you bolted in the opposite direction right after calling him a precious princess. Alastor, wide eyed and absolutely feral, immediately dropped everything in his hands, shattering several glasses, and gave chase.
Its become a weird game between the two of you. Alastor will never admit how much he loves to see that defiant spark in your eyes.
NSFW Section
Just like any other time, Alastor simply prefers to hear his name above all else when things get steamy. Although he does have a weak spot for being called master...
Likewise, Alastor tends to call you his pet. And like any good master with their pet, Alastor's ultimate goal is your safety and comfort. That doesn't mean he wont push you to your limits or make you perform for him however. The name is more of an unspoken promise that he will never actually hurt you.
Out of all the guys, Alastor is the one you would least expect to have a thing for calling you mommy in the bedroom (regardless of your gender). This usually happens when your overstimulated and/or Alastor is deep into a servicing mode, trying to make you feel as good as possible, and pulling as many orgasms from you as he physically can.
It also happens during his ruts. Alastor will vacillate between calling you mommy or his mate. He will growl into your neck how good of a mate you are as he fucks into you. How you are all his. Then after Alastor fills you to the brim with cum he will tell you how he, 'Cant wait for Mommy to have my fawns. Lets see how much more Mommy can take, hm?'
The whole mommy kink is a secret he will take with him to oblivion however. Alastor will make sure anyone who knows of it does too.
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Lucifer ₊˚ ‿︵୨୧
What He Calls You
Sorry; but I'm on the bandwagon that Lucifer uses duck based petnames for his partner. Duck or ducky are his go to names. Period. Especially when he is excited about something or gushing over how cute you are.
Lucifer genuinely thinks your as cute as a duck. Coming from him, thats quite a compliment. If you let him, Lucifer will 100% do the cutesy baby-talk voice at you when you do something particularly endearing and his cuteness meter is overloading.
When Lucifer is in front of people and trying to act normal (as in, masking hardcore), he will instead address you by a rather curt darling or my dear.
Although it may come across like Lucifer is distancing himself from you, he isn't actively trying to be less affectionate to you at all. Crowds/people in general are just super stressful for the guy and he is trying his absolute best to look like he has his shit together.
Once he relaxes a bit, you get some liquid courage in him, or if you two are with some friends, Lucifer moves to more intimate names.
When you go to sit, Lucifer will beckon you to come closer, doll, until your practically sitting on his lap. Then he will look at you with the most adoring eyes as he asks how are you enjoying yourself, sweetheart? He really does love you more then you can imagine.
What You Call Him
Lucifer tends to like the sweetest, sappiest terms of endearment. The ones that make your chest fill with butterflies and anyone within earshot nauseous. God bless the hotel for dealing with your shit because you two are actual diabetes.
Call him teddy bear, cuddle bug, or snuggs because of how physically affectionate he is. Also just because of how wonderful Lucifer's cuddles are and how you both could spend the rest of eternity in each other's arms.
Other good options are muffin, honey bun, or cupcake. Why the food names? Because Lucifer LOVES to cook for you of course! Its not just the pancakes either, this guy actually does know how to cook. One of his favorite things is to surprise you with a night in and a completely home made three course meal. (But thats for another post!)
If you want to compete with Lucifer's whole duck thing and give him a matching bird petname, you can call him lovebird. Lucifer might return the favor and start calling you his lovebird too. Because its exactly what you are. You both really are just a pair of lovebirds.
If you don't like ANY of those, buttercup or sweetpea are also good options. Two cute flower names that tie nicely into Lucifer's whole 'garden of Eden' thing.
You could also straight up call him cutie. Its a vicious cycle with this one. Because whenever you call him that, Lucifer gets the happiest, most adorable smile on his face. So you end up wanting to call him it more...
You got lots of great options with him. But if you want something more """serious"""; sweetie, sweetheart, honey, or shortening his name to Luci will still make his heart flutter without getting too crazy.
Another fun thing you can do, is call him my King or my Liege before kissing the back of his hand. Lucifer cant help but get flustered and start giggling like an idiot.
NSFW Section
Do I even need to say it? Do I even need to say what two words turn this man into an actual puddle on the spot?
Like seriously. Those words hold so much power that you have to be super careful with how you wield it. Lucifer could be so distracted, excitedly telling you about a new project he is working on. Then you just mutter how much of a good boy he is and every muscle in Lucifer's body instantly tenses. You giggle as you see a surprised shudder run up his spine. His cock already standing at full attention.
Lucifer has a weakness for the name pretty boy as well. Caress his soft skin, leaving a trail of hot kisses, before whispering how much of a pretty boy he is; and Lucifer will reward you with the most sinful moans.
Be careful with him though; Lucifer may be the sin of pride, king of hell, and the fucking devil, but the man wears his heart on his sleeve and can easily be hurt by your words if your not careful.
Don't degrade him. This actually really hurts him and can easily send Lucifer spiraling. Before punishments, tell him he has been a bad boy, a naughty boy. Tell him he has to make up for it and prove how good he really is.
Praise on both of your ends. Lucifer constantly tells you how beautiful, gorgeous, and/or handsome you are. When you return the praise, the devil melts.
Lucifer will call you angel or my angel, because to him, your beauty rivals all of heaven itself. You also came into his life and saved him as if you were an angel sent just for him. He knows that would never happen of course; but he likes to dream.
Has a lowkey daddy kink as well but is ashamed of it since he is an actual dad. But you can easily get him riled up by playing into it and calling yourself baby or mommy. Ooohh boy will this devil then be ready to actually make you a mommy~
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AN: If you want a part 2, please say what characters you want. I started an Adam one, and I wanted to do an Angel Dust one. But Im open to whatever?
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cosmerelists · 3 days
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Renarin Ranks Starting Places For New Readers of the Cosmere Series
"Renarin ranks something" requested by @themoonstonechronicler :)
Fans often argue about where new readers should start in the Cosmere: which book is the best starting place? In this list, Renarin will rank various options. Because if any character can break the fourth wall, it's either Hoid (of course) or Renarin with his funky corrupted Future Sight.
[Contains Stormlight Spoilers through Rhythm of War!]
1. Way of Kings
"Starting with Way of Kings is like jumping into a 4 versus 1 Shardblade duel armed with a sword that screams when you touch it after a lifetime of not really being allowed to train in real combat scenarios due to your blood weakness. Will you be in over your head? Yes. Might the experience harm you? Very possibly. Will Kaladin's presence save you? Absolutely. Is it a bad idea? Objectively yes. BUT does this choice make you inherently cool? I think so. At least, I have no regrets."
...
"Make that very few regrets."
"I give this an 8/10."
2. Elantris
"Listen...I get it. You want to start from the beginning. Proceed chronologically. I think my cousin Jasnah would be inclined toward this. But speaking as a 'funky time guy,' as Adolin called me once, I have to say that the past doesn't necessarily predict the future and uh...this one just might be a little tough to start with. In my opinion."
"4/10."
3. Tress of the Emerald Sea
"I think...I think I like Wit. Mostly. There was that one time he tried to make everyone think I was hooking up with, like, multiple women at once, which was...weird. But he also made fun of me. Which does not sound good, but it meant he respected me in a Wit way. In any event, this book is like sitting and listening to Wit for hours. Is it good if that is the first thing you ever do? Maybe? The little rat is cute."
"9/10."
4. Yumi and the Nightmare Painter
"This one is Wit too. Just to get that out of the way. And I think it might be a little bit confusing for a first-time reader since it is clearly being told to a Rosharan, which is not something a new reader would understand."
"But on the other hand, it is maybe...refreshing to have a main character who hasn't yet realized what he's good at, and another main character who hasn't yet realized that not all aspects of her religion should restrict her as much as they do."
"So a confusing place to start, but not necessarily a bad one."
"6/10."
5. The Emperor's Soul
"This one is short! That might be good for someone who is looking for less of a commitment. Plus, it involves a lot of research into how things work, if that appeals to you. But I think the real benefit is that if someone is reading it to you, it would probably only take a few hours."
"10/10."
6. The Sunlit Man
"This book is like seeing into the future, since it is literally about the future. It's also very painful. Which, in my experience, the future often is. The future can be changed...but not in this case, because now it's written down. So I would say: start here at your own risk. On the other hand, it will probably seem less sad if you read it without any backstory. But it will make other things sadder later, trust me."
"3/10."
7. White Sand
"This one can be good if you're a man, since there are a lot of pictures. There are also a lot of words, of course, but if you're just starting out on the reading thing, then having the pictures would help a lot I'd imagine."
"6/10."
8. Warbreaker
"Speaking as someone who...well, I can't say that I deliberately make dramatic reveals, but I have been known to do things like scrawl warnings on a wall or appear suddenly from the shadows or, you know, stuff like that. So I might actually recommend reading this before you read our books, just so you can have those, 'Wait, it's YOU!' moments over and over again."
"Seriously, why did so many of those characters end up in our series?"
"I'm not answering the question, though. This one is standalone, and not too long, yet still manages to have a pretty big cast of characters and a bunch of storylines. It is like Sanderson training."
"8/10."
9. The Final Empire
"This is what everyone always tells you to do. Sometimes it can get frustrating when everyone is SO SURE that they know what's good for you, especially your dad, who won't listen when you tell him that you don't want to become an ardent even though he thinks it's the best. And you know what? In the end, I am a fighter, but also a scholar, since men can do both now. So sometimes what people say is good, but only when it happens in the way you want it to and...I think I lost the thread. Um. You can do what people tell you that you should do IF you want to. "
"If you start here, I imagine you'll like it. Sometimes what everyone tells you to do is a good idea...but only if it's what you want too."
"9/10."
10. The Alloy of Law
"Starting with Mistborn Era 2 is like bonding a corrupt spren. It's almost what everyone agrees is a good thing to do (start with Mistborn / bond a spren), only you're going about it in a...different way. But different is not necessarily bad! Yes, I have abilities that are maybe from Odium and that give me a maybe sacrilegious ability to foretell the future...but when given the chance, I immediately recommended my best friend do the same thing."
"Being different can be good. 7/10."
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xiaq · 2 days
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Hello! x I’m really inspired by the way you start and complete projects and move onto the next and speak of your work and plans with such positivity and innate capability. If it’s okay to ask, I’m curious if the way of which you move in action comes naturally to you, or if you have any recommendations for how to interact with momentum and action? Thanks so much!
Hi! Thank you so very much. I actually deeply struggle with executive function/task paralysis. But when I was in grad school, my therapist gave me fantastic advice: keep the end goal in mind, but break big tasks into smaller pieces and then only focus on the next piece, and celebrate completing that piece.
Current example: I want to make a cool, intricately carved, dresser. That feels like a big task. But it can be broken into 10 steps. 1. find old dresser 2. sand 3. paint 4. glaze 5. make carving molds 6. paint carvings 7. glaze carvings 8. apply carvings 9. seal 10. new hardware
Right now, I'm only focusing on step 8. And that feels manageable and fun rather than overwhelming.
I do the same thing with my writing. I outline my books so I know the general plot and character development that needs to occur in each chapter. But I only focus on writing one chapter at a time. If I was thinking about everything I have left to write every time I sit down, I'd be paralyzed with the magnitude of work ahead. But just one chapter--where I already have solid working parameters––well, that feels like something I can accomplish in a few hours.
(Sometimes, depending on my mental health, I need to do this with simple day-to-day tasks. Like, "walk the dog" isn't a singular item. It becomes 1. Get dressed 2. put on shoes 3. put on Deacon's collar/leash 3. Walk to the park 4. walk home. But then as I mentally check each of those things off, I get a little surge of validation/pride in my accomplishment, as silly as that sounds.) (For certain projects, I'll even make myself a genuine physical chart and put stickers on it as I complete items.)
Anyway. I have no idea if that helps with other folks' approaches to momentum/action, but that's what makes my brain happy, anyway!
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lo1k-diamonds · 3 days
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Stellar Behavior 💜 Part 1
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“What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”
PAIRING: Officer!Yoongi x Mafia (f)reader
SUMMARY: Yoongi has been in the police force for long enough to know that the system isn’t perfect, so when an injustice is about to put his protégé in jail, he has no other choice but to go to you. You’re the devil, but you’re hard to resist, and he needs to decide between falling into temptation or showing you that two can play the game.
WORD COUNT: 4.8k
GENRE: Gangster AU, Law AU, enemies to lovers, smut
RATING: R (explicit)
WARNINGS: corruption, power dynamics, blackmail, threats w/ a knife, slight degradation, sexual favors, oral (f rec)
A.N. I'm soooo excited, this fic is 🔥 Infinite thank yous to @moonleeai and @downbad4yoongi for working through my crazy and being incredible! Enjoy 🔥🔥
Masterlist | Masterpost | AO3 | Wattpad | Next Chapter >
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Yoongi huffed and threw his eyeglasses onto the keyboard, rubbing his eyes so roughly he saw lights. It was no use; no matter how much he went over the evidence, again and again, he couldn’t change it.
“Hyung.”
He uncovered his eyes, only to be met with Taehyung’s sadness. His shoulders sagged from the sleepless nights ever since Jimin had gotten arrested, with dark circles bringing even more desolation to his otherwise heavenly features. He knew it wasn’t Taehyung’s intention, but the sight only unnerved Yoongi even more.
“Go home, get some sleep.”
Taehyung flinched, “But—”
“That’s an order, Officer.”
Taehyung stiffened and instantly bowed and showed his respects to his Superintendent before turning and leaving. Only then did Yoongi heave a deep breath and observe around him. It was weird seeing his department at the police station empty, without the officers at their desks taking calls or doing paperwork while on one of their 24-hour shifts. But they had all been shaken up, and so he had sent them home.
He was proud of his Division, and as their Chief, he couldn’t be more certain of everyone’s conduct and character. This included Jimin’s, and it was the reason why he was losing his mind over this case.
No matter how much he reviewed the footage and evidence, there was no mistake — Officer Jimin had seemingly shot his partner dead during an arrest gone wrong. This was a natural conclusion, judging by the body camera of the now deceased cop, Officer Junghee, that had captured Jimin nearing him with a fuming pistol in his hand. One that matched the ballistics report on Yoongi’s desk.
This was why the prosecution wanted to charge him with manslaughter at the very least, but Yoongi could not be convinced. The body camera also captured the panic in Officer Jimin’s voice and expression as he tried to save his downed partner. Yoongi didn’t care if that was Jimin’s gun or if it was fuming in his hand — he didn’t believe it.
“It wasn’t me!” The words Jimin shouted as he was arrested conveyed an absolute world of hurt and combined with the shock in Jimin’s eyes was seared into Yoongi’s retinas, causing him to dig the heel of his hands into his eyes again. But no matter how much he attempted to change the image, it wouldn’t. Jimin, his protégé, was still being handcuffed and taken away while begging, “I didn’t, you have to believe me! He put it in my hands! Hyung!”
Yoongi nudged his eyeglasses off the keyboard, locked his computer, and grabbed his coat. On long nights like these, he didn’t bother staying in uniform, only wearing black pants with a white shirt and his badge and holster belt. He made his way outside and got into his car, acknowledging whoever he met along the way. Temperatures were freezing, and his car didn’t start immediately. He reached for his nicotine gum while he waited for the car to warm up. When it finally started, so did the 3 AM news on the radio right as he left the parking lot.
“In a shocking revelation, an officer from the Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency shot his partner dead after pulling up to a suspicious vehicle in Dongjak District. The mounting evidence is undeniable, and the prosecution is discussing the potential penalty in such a case, with the spokesperson revealing in a press conference that while mistakes happen, justice needs to be served.”
Yoongi kept chewing and driving as the prosecutor’s voice echoed through the speakers. On the outside, Yoongi was the picture of calm, cool, and collected, but inside, he was fuming. He had spoken with the prosecutor many times, who preferred a clean-cut arrest to build his case to run for whatever political role he was after rather than fight for justice, as he claimed. Yoongi had always known that multiple interests abound in the justice system, but now he was starting to get pissed.
When he parked the car, he looked outside through the windshield, observing quietly as the people moved in and out of the Aether. The bouncers kept drunks at bay, and despite the booming music and the flashy lights, everything looked normal for a nightclub.
He removed his belt and badge, shoving them in the glove compartment so hard that something fell out. He reached to grab it from the floor, his frown instantly turning into a scowl. It was a photo of him hugging a woman, laughing, taken many years ago when they were still happy. When they were not even married yet, let alone divorced.
He got out of the car and ripped the photo into as many tiny pieces as possible, dropping the scraps in a trashcan along with his gum. Then he stopped in front of the bouncers with his hands in his pockets, saying six little special words.
“I want to see the boss.”
The first bouncer just scoffed a laugh and shook his head, but the second one eyed him from head to toe, “If you’re here to inspect, then you have to identify yourself first.”
“Not an inspection,” Yoongi said nonchalantly, glancing around. “It’s not an official visit.”
The smirking bouncer kept the flow of the people going in and out while the serious one, resembling the first almost to a T, pressed his earpiece further into his ear, waiting for orders. Yoongi had noticed the cameras already while he was walking up, and he wondered how long it would take for them to know exactly who he was and why he was there.
The serious bouncer moved closer to him, “Are you armed?”
“No.”
“I have to make sure.”
Yoongi glanced at him, then nodded, raising his hands as he let the man make sure he was unarmed. When the tall man rose from his knees after checking Yoongi’s ankles, he lowered his arms and waited for the goon to catch his breath.
“Alright, you can go in.”
He moved past the bouncers and into the entryway, but he hadn’t even made it to the coat check when someone approached him. Just by the light clothing, styled hair, and badge hanging on his belt, Yoongi could immediately tell that the man worked there.
“Follow me.”
Yoongi wasn’t there to sightsee, but he could appreciate the columns and marble structures and statues. Along with the paintings, velvet curtains, and carpets, it made the Aether look like a temple or divine abode of the Gods. The aesthetic intensified as they went up the stairs, but he didn’t have time to register much. In a second, he was walking into what appeared like an ordinary office — a pleasant space with a large desk at the center in front of huge dark windows that showed the lights flashing from the dance floor. He ignored the liquor table, the cabinets with files, and the black velvet sofas to the side. What his eyes were immediately drawn to was you — you who had pushed the large computer screen to the side so you could watch him come in. Your chin rested graciously on your intertwined fingers, with your elbows on the desk, eyes flickering with amusement, watching him through dark curled lashes. He hadn’t even noticed he had walked to your desk or that the door had closed behind him, but then you stood up, letting your delicate arms fall alongside your tight black dress. Your black, straight hair slid over your shoulders, framing the plunging cleavage of your dress, and when you smiled, he felt hot—molten hot.
“Welcome, Superintendent,” you smiled with a glint of amusement, your perfect teeth shining in the overhead light, and he clenched his fists behind his back. “Or should I say Yoongi? I was told you weren’t here in an official capacity, but…” You eyed him from head to toe, and he did his best to stay poised and calm. “You don’t look like you’re here to club.”
Yoongi was already sweating, not out of nervousness but because of you. Because you always eyed him like you owned him, always had a hint of mischief to every smile, and were always as elusive as a ghost. One he couldn’t catch and had grown tired of running after.
Still, hearing his name in your mouth for the first time… made him pull on the collar of his shirt, “Not here to party; I’m here on business.”
Your eyebrow twitched, and he looked at you seriously; you were a cunning fox of the worst kind. Worse than a weed, than a pest, than the bloody smoke still hanging in the air and making his fingers twitch. He had a simple goal, and he had to stay focused.
“Not an official visit, but you’re here on business…” you mused out loud then shrugged. “Soon, it will be four in the morning,” you revealed with a hint of disdain as you neared the table that held liquor in crystal decanters. “Surely, if you wanted to do something official, you’d wait at least three more hours?” You chuckled as you poured a finger of whiskey into a glass. “Want some?” He shook his head, and you shrugged again. You made your way back to your desk, but instead of going around it, you perched on the side of it, close enough for him to see your dress parting, giving hints of your upper thighs, “What can I do for you, Chief?”
Yoongi had nerves of steel; he ignored the lush skin of your thighs, the cleavage, the numbing sound reverberating through the walls, the dimmed lights, and the way your eyes seemed to challenge him with every blink.
He focused, “I want your help.”
Your eyes widened comically, the image of innocence and confusion, “Mine? What could such a powerful person need from me?”
Thankfully, your coy attitude irritated him and helped him concentrate. “I know the suspicious car they were chasing was one of yours.”
Your eyes widened even more, but this time, you brought your glass to your lips to hide a smile, “My, my, Officer. I know I have many cars, but to say I was a fugitive—”
“You know what I mean,” his jaw clenched, and you licked your lips.
“I don’t,” you could only smile, and he clenched his fists again. There it was. It pissed the fuck out of him. “Are you going to arrest me, Chief? Make good use of those deduction skills of yours and put pretty handcuffs around my wrists?”
He hated that his heart jumped in his chest as you whispered salaciously and leaned into him, shortening the distance between you. He hated how tempting you looked, and he hated the way your eyes fixed on his, as if you were ready to follow suit with your provocation. You were probably a tease like that with everyone all the time. It pissed him off even more.
He only blinked, ever the master of showing a relaxed demeanor, “I have no evidence to arrest you, nor am I here in that capacity.” 
It instantly hit him, as you straightened your back and finished the drink in your hand, that he was going to have to ask for your help. Not outsmart you, not convince you, not squabble with half facts and hunches — he needed your help and that meant he had to come down off his pedestal.
“My— An officer from my team will be sentenced for something he didn’t do. I’m out of options; I’ve hit a dead-end.”
Your lips pressed into a thin line as you put down the empty glass, “Don’t tell me — the system he holds and protects with his life won’t even try to prove his innocence.”
His jaw clenched; he hated that you weren’t completely wrong. “I’m trying to prove his innocence.”
The corners of your mouth twitched in a smile. “What makes you think I can help?”
He kept his mouth closed for a thoughtful moment. There was no use in accusing you again. Your smile wasn’t sly, so he decided to go for it. “You’re one of the biggest players.”
“Me?” You acted surprised, “I just own a few businesses here and there…”
“They say you’re the one to contact for information.” You tilted your head, and he insisted, “Even if that wasn’t your car, you’d know about it because it was on your turf. You’re you. I just know you know something that can help us solve this.”
That answer seemed to satisfy you because your lips and eyes revealed a small yet genuine smile that caught his breath. It made him realize he was leaning towards you now, exposing himself like that, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. Not when you looked at him like that, feeding into his hope.
“Say I do,” you started, eyes fixed on his. “Say I have evidence that could exonerate Officer Park.” He snapped straight; he had never told you the name of the Officer, and the media didn’t know it either. Yet what got him were your words, “Why would I help you?”
He clenched his jaw so hard that his teeth clicked. He just about growled with the way irritation mixed with his desperation, making him reel.
“Come on, Chief. Talk to me,” you pressed, wanting him to push through both the shock and the stick up his ass. “You must be desperate enough if you’re asking for my help, and I’m not denying it. I’m saying I might have what you need. What would you do to save an innocent from prison for life or worse?”
He didn’t think, “You have it? Something that could undeniably prove his innocence?”
He knew before he was done asking that it was impossible and that he was acting crazy. Yet, you leaned into him, meeting him halfway, your breath hitting his chin, “In those exact words? I do.” You sat back and let your words sink in, not knowing they gave him a full-body shudder. He always knew you were powerful and had your ways, but holy shit— “What do you have that I want?”
He opened his mouth but instantly closed it. Objectively, he had nothing. But maybe there was something he could do. First, though, he needed to know it was real. “What evidence do you have? Show it to me—”
“Hmmm, no,” you pressed your lips and twisted your nose, displeased. “That’s not how this works. This is based on trust. Besides, you don’t seem to have anything to offer.”
For a split second, he wondered if you were bullshitting him, but he honestly didn’t care. He had to do something. “You want something concrete for a maybe?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself,” your tone hardened as your expression lost humor.
“Alright, name it. Tell me what is worth your help.”
His tone was soft, and it worked to soothe you. His dark eyes helped; there was so much willingness in them, and you liked that. The man there asking for your help to correct an injustice was the kind of man you were looking for.
“Since you asked,” you cheekily started, pulling your hair behind your shoulders. “I want three things.” He didn’t even blink, so you continued, “The first is a favor. Of my choice and at my discretion whenever I shall need it. The second is for you to get on your knees. And the third is for you to eat.”
He blinked, “What?” He looked down to follow your hands over your thighs, and you spread your legs for him, though the black dress covered between them. He shook his head in bewilderment, “You’re crazy!”
“Crazy?” You chuckled, “I think I’m being quite reasonable.”
“You— Do you hear what you’re asking?”
He sounded breathless and could feel the heat on his cheeks, which was not ideal. He almost managed to step back, but a quirk of your eyebrow kept him still — he needed that evidence.
“Oh my, Chief Min. Are you getting heated at the thought of a couple of favors?” He scoffed, and you continued your tease, “Or is it the knees? Too proud to beg?”
“No, not too proud,” he mumbled between teeth. He was ready to kneel on the floor and beg, and the heat rising in his neck told him the rest wasn’t a problem either. And that was the problem. “The favor—” He cleared his throat, scratching it, “What is the favor?”
“I don’t know yet,” you shrugged, and it seemed to him like it didn’t matter. He knew that couldn’t be true, that had to be what you were really after — something specific from the Superintendent of the Seoul Metropolitan Police. And yet your eyes were shining in such a way that he almost forgot who you were. Almost.
“Something illegal, no doubt.”
You sighed and he took the moment to let the anger cool him — you were a criminal about to use his good intentions to surely accomplish something even worse. Instead of cooling him, irritation made him snap his knuckles and shift on his feet.
“I don’t know what it is, but it shouldn’t matter,” you said more coldly, squinting your eyes. “What is worth an innocent’s life? You decide.”
There was a hint of impatience in your tone that only riled him up more. He turned to you, “What’s stopping me from just—”
“You’re not that stupid,” you interrupted, raising your chin. His eyes noticed the surveillance cameras and you smirked, “They’re not who you should be concerned about.”
Your smile was predatory but he scoffed. You didn’t need to threaten him, and he didn’t like the coercion. He refused to look at you for a moment, giving you the impression that he was weighing his options. In reality, he was figuring out what angered him more — the fact that he was about to make a deal with a devil like you, or that he was that turned on from it.
You huffed and got off the desk, your heels clicking on the floor like a timer had just gone off. “Never mind—”
He grabbed your arm to keep you from walking away, and in a second, something sharp was poking his lower stomach. You both froze in place, your gaze angry and fixed on his, while his heart raced inside his chest. He didn’t let go of your arm, and you didn’t lower your knife.
“I never heard a yes from those pretty lips, so…” you spoke quietly, then pressed the blade harder. “Hands off.”
He knew you could put your money where your mouth was, and that if you wanted to kill him and get rid of him, you would. Yet, his grip didn’t lessen as he observed you. He was still trying to figure things out — not what to do, but you. He hated you objectively; you represented everything wrong with the world. Jimin was innocent; you shouldn’t be bargaining for his life, you should do the right thing. But you weren’t, you wanted to play with fire. Maybe even to get burned.
“What is it…” he started quietly, still eying your angry eyes. “Is it the risk? The humiliation? The footage for blackmailing me later? The power over a figure of authority?”
You scoffed, leaning in to answer just as quietly, “No risk, Chief. The footage might be insurance, but you’re a man of your word. No power over you because you’ll be doing it willingly. And no humiliation,” you chuckled. “It’s a privilege to eat at this table. Although…” You looked down, then smirked. “I can play if that’s what you like.”
He looked away from your eyes for the first time and almost flinched; his pants had a tent. He couldn’t even think; why was his body betraying him like this? He tried pulling away and letting you go, but you pressed the tip of your knife harder.
“Nuh-uh,” you whispered, taking a deep breath a little closer to his neck. “I heard the missus left cause you couldn’t get it up, but won’t you look at that—” Your tone was sly, and he gripped your arm harder in retaliation. You laughed, “I guess she just didn’t know how to play. Or maybe you like this,” your voice lowered wantonly, and a shiver ran up his spine as though he was starting to attune to it. “Like not having a choice, to be in danger, to be forced to do something reprehensible.”
He had to lick his lips because for a second he thought he was drooling, “I have a choice.”
You smiled and his cock twitched, “Then choose.”
He eyed your smile and leaned into you, but you chuckled and playfully pressed the tip of the knife to impose distance, ignoring the red droplets tainting the fabric.
“On your knees, Chief.”
His eyes snapped to yours, and he pulled you by the arm, disregarding the blade, so you’d walk back until the back of your thighs hit the desk. Then, he gripped your hips and helped you on the desk, fisting your dress in the same movement to get it out of the way as he kneeled between your legs. Your knife had slipped from your hand as you rested them on the desk for support, and you didn’t think to pick it back up. You wanted him to eat you and mean it, but he was going above and beyond — nuzzling your thighs and inhaling your scent, frantically fighting with your dress, and trying to pry your legs further apart so he could have access.
When his nose poked your clit, you jumped in place, and his fingers dug into your hips, even through the fabric of the dress. Just looking at the way he was fighting to get his mouth on you was positively melting you, but you wanted it to actually happen.
“Slide them down,” you breathed after he nuzzled and licked your core through your panties enough times to cover you with goosebumps.
He immediately obliged, and you shimmied to help him get rid of them. He threw them on the floor, then gripped your legs apart before giving you a look that seared you in place. You didn’t know what it was, but you were living for it, and the excitement burned your gut. The Superintendent looked like a piece of forbidden heaven between your thighs; who knew he’d have you melting like this just at the hint of doing what you asked?
A smirk spread on your lips as he kept struggling with your dress, until suddenly — rip. He bunched the fabric and pulled it, causing the slit that revealed your thigh to rip, and you chuckled. You liked that energy, that hunger; the way he was willing to destroy to have his way. Instantly, he had free leeway to uncover your core and press his mouth, rolling his tongue all over your slick folds.
You jolted with a sigh, gripping his hair at the back of his head. The more he laved his tongue over your slit to taste you, the more you had the urge to move, but you stayed still. With your eyes closed, you enjoyed every second of his discovery, from his licks to his tasting and humming. You heaved the breath you were holding when he nibbled your heat right before finding your clit to suckle, and your voice finally came out. You could almost laugh at how easily he had found his way, but your mind wasn’t there. While he found his rhythm, you guided him with expressive sighs, grazing your acrylic nails over his scalp without ever forcing him. You wouldn’t; his hunger was part of the power trip. Chief Min would eat you, give you what you wanted, and service you because you had that much power. You could bring someone like him to his knees. He liked it.
You suddenly pulled on his hair so he’d look up at you, and he did, not even bothering with a quizzical look. You bit your lip to stop a smile and relented your grip, and he looked down for a second. It was all it took for him to get back to it, and you let your head fall back with a sigh — case in point.
“The things you do for duty, Chief…”
His tongue kept laving over you as if you were desert, focused, regardless of your taunt. In fact, he seemed to have forgotten where he was or why because his hands started gently exploring your spread thighs. His fingers pressed to your curves and didn’t stop even when he felt the garter that held the knife you had used on him. Instead, he pulled on it, making it snap against your thigh, ripping a stronger moan from you. 
It was then he realized you needed something stronger, so he pressed his face harder against your cunt, latched onto your clit, and started rutting into you. You were surprised but instantly melted, and your fingers curved around his hair. The grind of his lips pressing into you while his mouth held the suction was already maddening, but the thrumming of his tongue on your clit was the cherry on top. You didn’t have time to make it a challenge, or maybe you didn’t want to; his rhythm was perfect against your heat, and you moaned when it intensified. The strumming was precise and maddening, each tap firm and steady, giving you enough time to despair for the next one and moan when it came, leaving you to anticipate what would come next. 
Your hips started moving on their own, and that was when you knew you had let go. There was no point in pretending he wasn’t doing it just like you wanted, or that you weren’t rolling into his face to feel him harder, forcing him to dig his long fingers into the flesh of your hips as he drank the slick melting out of you. The very sounds of his humming and licking drove the blood to your cheeks and emboldened your hips, messily humping against his mouth. You could feel the edge right before you, and every time you ground on his mouth, you thought that would be it.
“Fuck,” you groaned between teeth, looking down to find burning brown eyes drinking you more greedily than his hot mouth. He wasn’t stopping you or holding you back, he was letting you fuck his mouth however you wanted, and it popped you. 
You let your head fall back and pressed his face to your cunt, your moans pitching higher when he sucked harder, as if to pull all the pleasure out of you like it was venom. He rode your climax with you, gripping your trembling legs around him as though he wished you’d smother him, and finally, you looked down. Your walls were still throbbing in the aftershocks when he dragged his tongue across you slowly, and you groaned through a smirk, then pulled him away by the hair.
“Easy there,” you smiled and let your legs down.
You quickly pulled your dress down to cover you again while your other hand raked through your long hair, putting it in place. He rose slowly to his feet with his eyes on you, and you didn’t even try hiding your heaving chest; he could see it well with such an observant gaze. His eyes were so intense that you shuddered and bit your lip, but avoiding them only landed your own on his evident arousal, and you smirked.
Looking up, for a moment, your taunt got caught in your throat. Min Yoongi looked the absolute best covered in your cum from nose to chin — deliciously ravenous.
You licked your lips, raising your hand to his face but stopping before you touched him. He mimicked you, his pink tongue collecting your slick over his lips while he focused on yours. Still, when your hand moved down, so did his eyes. You smirked, dodging his erection at the last second to hide your hand under your dress.
You hummed, closing your eyes as your fingers collected your wetness mixed with his saliva, and then brought them straight to your mouth. You licked them first, tasting what he did before putting them in your mouth and sucking. 
You clenched, knitting your eyebrows as you realized how turned on you were. You were throbbing and craving something to push into you and fuck you senseless, and opening your eyes, you saw the same urge staring right back at you.
Your fingers left your mouth with a pop, and then you smiled, shaking your head, “Should have asked for a good fuck too.”
His dark eyes stayed on yours for a moment, and even when he wiped his chin with the back of his hand, they remained on yours. It was almost a taunt, and you grinned; you loved a good challenge, and even more the kind of fucking that lustful gaze promised. But you knew the worth of asking, and you were not going to come out losing.
“Maybe next time.”
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sulumuns-dootah · 2 days
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Can I request a headcanon with whb kings (+ sitri and another character if you want) reacting to a gn mc who has bulimia and them walking into the bathroom to see mc forcing themselves to vomit. What would their reaction be?
WHB kings(+ Sitri) w/ MC who has bulimia
⟡ Masterlist ⟡ 
A/N: Please note that I've never myself dealt with nor have/had anyone in my life with ED, so this is purely based on my knowledge from being educated about it at school and some videos talking about this topic. Also, I'm sorry if i say something a bit too triggering - I'm trying to tread as carefully as possible.
Warning: Eating Disorders, dead dove do not eat
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
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Satan bursts in through the door
"Hey, what the hell are you doing? Are you okay?"
At first he's not sure if you're sick or something
Then he notices that your fingers are covered in your vomit
His demon brain can't comprehend why you'd do something like that (or how, since i hc that demons don't have gag reflex like humans)
After a second he just falls to his knees to hug you and grabs a bit of toilet paper to wipe off your mouth
"Woah, hey... Hey... I'm here so talk to me, 'kay?"
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Sitri quietly walks in and doesn't know what to do
The sight of your hand in your mouth is puzzling to him, but once your whole body bends down above the toilet bowl, he's quick to be by your side
"Y/N, is everything okay? Were you so unhappy with you meal?"
As soon as you're able to, you explain your struggles to Sitri and you can see his eyes start to gloss over
"But... Why would you harm yourself like that?"
From now on he'll keep a closer eye on your bathroom visits after/during a meal
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Similar reaction to Sitri
Mammon doesn't know what to do and pretty much freezes
You only notice him after you're done
He makes you jump a bit, but then you notice the worried face
Immediately wants to take you to Paradise Lost for a checkup
So you have to sit down with him and explain everything to him
It's the first time you see him near tears
From that moment on, Mammon makes sure to include a lot of body worship in and out of bedroom
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You never noticed Levi walking in on you, but for some reason your schedule is starting to get a bit... weird?
Like, you are always forced to go do something immediately after a meal, so you don't even have a time to slip away and purge and by the time you're done the food is mostly digested
Also, for some reason whenever you go to the bathroom it feels like there's someone with you?
Oh, did I also mention that Levi compliments you a lot as of late?
And then all the other nobles start to as well?
Must be some kind of weird illness...
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Beel knew all along
How couldn't he? He's the king of consuming food
He always could tell that something was off
Like how he always saw you eat, but after the meal was done, he'd sense your stomach was mostly empty
Plus he always picked up on the smell of vomit on your breath even if you brushed your teeth multiple times
So when he walks in on you purging, he'll just look at you with a scolding look
Makes it his mission to "corrupt" you back into eating
Even when he's not physically around, you can rest assured that there's a fly keeping a close eye on you
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It was a rare night when Belphie couldn't sleep
You'd just come back from a big diner at one of the other countries
When you came back into the room and hurriedly walked to the bathroom, he didn't think much about it
He figured you just had a bit of a bathroom emergency
Understandable
But then the gagging noises started
Belphie just shoots up from the bed and beelines it towards you
His entrance startles you, you don't even get to purge
"NO."
Just a stern proclamation has him drag you to bed with him
He's seen your dreams
He knows the things your brain has you believing
And he'll be damned if he allows that to continue
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His first thought is that you're sick with food poisoning or something
So when you're done, he'll get to diagnosing right away
Only when he's exhausted all possible illnesses, he realises that the issue is not physical, but mental
Doesn't matter the time of day, he's immediatelly on the phone with Buer and discussing your symptoms and possible diagnosies
Lucifer will do anything to help you and make you feel good about yourself without harmful practices like witnessed earlier
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