#but it would have been a lot of fun to post up with some of these big girls

[mrkis]

bad habits. (m.l)

pairing. mark lee x fem!reader genre. smut word count. 6.5k

❝you know you're my favourite.❞

content warnings. explicit content, toxic behaviour from reader and mark, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, mentions of weed, indications of dealer!mark, manhandling, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, mean!mark, spanking, unprotected sex, creampie.

Don’t look at him. 

You mentally tell yourself as you tear your eyes away from Mark who enters the house party with a girl at his side, capturing a glimpse in your peripheral vision the way his hand rests at the bottom of her back as he leads her through the crowded room.

Stop looking at him.

You tell yourself again when your gaze inevitably draws back to him, find yourself staring at him from across the room, watching as he greets his friends with boyish handshakes and welcoming pats on the back before he settles down on the couch once they made room for him, the girl following closely behind and smoothly sliding her perfectly manicured hands on his thigh.

Stop.

Your tongue prods at your cheek in annoyance as you watch how close they lean into each other to speak, how his words seem to make her giggle and she tucks her hair behind her ears when he smiles at her, clearly enjoying his obvious flirtatious comments and your grip tightens around the cup you’ve been nursing the entire night, pulling your eyes away from the scene when his gaze finally meets yours.

The relationship you have with Mark is something you have never experienced before, but a relationship you weren’t too keen on letting go of anytime soon. Mark’s a friend; a friend who you sometimes rely on when things go south, a friend who picks you up in his car for late-night takeout runs and smoke weed until the sun rises, and a friend who you actively sleep with just to get rid of that dull ache between your thighs. 

You hate how he knows your body, sometimes even better than you know yourself. You hate how easy it is for him to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, igniting something within you that leaves you breathless and yearning for more. You hate how his touch leaves you desperate, craving for more than just his hands. You hate how his eyes alone can have you on your knees, the heavy weight of his cock resting on your tongue.

You can’t help but think that you have some sort of effect on him too, finding it amusing how easy it was to get him alone with you, to make him drop whatever he was doing just to be in your presence. It does, admittedly, bring you a lot of satisfaction in knowing that you may have some kind of hold over him like he does with you.

Although, there have been a handful of moments where he has ignored or rejected you, much like tonight.

You were the one that had invited him to come to this party when your best friend had first mentioned it.

You were the one that brought it up to him during an intimate encounter in the backseat of his car, asking him to accompany you only to be shut down and told that he wasn’t interested in some lame house party, and instead had something else planned for that night.

Before you even arrived at the party, you saw the Snapchat story posted by the girl who is currently clinging to his side like a leech. The image was blurry, but you could make out her holding two joints, with a caption thanking Mark and promising a fun night, while tagging his username. At first, you figured it was a deal, being aware that Mark sometimes sells his weed on the side for extra cash, but you never expected that the ‘something else’ he had planned would involve bringing her to a party he rejected coming to in the first place.

It honestly made you fucking pissed.

You mentally chastise yourself to get a grip and you scoff, tilting your head back and gulping down the rest of your drink, the alcohol searing your throat and momentarily distracting you from your own fiery emotions. You lower the cup, swiping the back of your hand at the corner of your lips, wiping away any lingering traces of liquid just as your best friend nears you with a drunken flush.

“Hey, I’ve been looking everywhere for you!” Yunjin exclaims as she flings her arms around your shoulders for a hug, but her embrace falters as she notices the expression on your face. “What’s happened?”

“I’m out,” You say, gesturing towards your empty cup with a tight lipped smile, trying to hold yourself back from admitting—“Oh, and Mark’s here.”

“I thought he said no to coming?” Yunjin’s brows knit together in confusion and she glances over your shoulder, catching a glimpse of Mark and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but her expression quickly shifts to one of exasperation as she rolls her eyes and directs her attention back to you. “Are we really surprised? Come on, you know exactly what he’s like!”

“I know.” You hate it.

“He’s always been like this!”

“I know.” You really hate it.

Yunjin takes a moment to stare at you before she sighs, arms crossing over her front, “Yet it still doesn’t change the fact that you’re thinking about him right now.”

She’s got you there. “I know…”

Yunjin firmly places her hands on your cheeks, gripping with enough force to have you stare straight into her eyes, “Forget about him. He’s just some guy you’re sleeping with occasionally, and you know what that means?” You blink in response. “It means you’re single and free to sleep with anyone you want! We’re here to have fun, and that’s exactly what we’re going to do!”

She’s right. Of course she’s right. Her words bring a genuine smile to your face and you nod in agreement, determined to not let something so silly ruin your night. 

Yunjin wastes no time when she leaves, quickly returning back to you with fresh drinks and tapping her cup against yours with a mischievous grin. You both take a few hearty sips, allowing the alcohol to course through your veins and lighten your mood, head buzzing as she slips her fingers through yours to tug you away from your current position.

You mingle with a few of her other friends you’re familiar with, diving deep in conversations, laughing at jokes shared among the group, throwing flirtatious comments here and there when someone shows clear interest in you.

But you weren’t interested in them. 

Not at all.

Not when you can still see Mark in your line of vision, who remains his position on the couch, engrossed in his own conversation with his friends and the girl who has yet to leave his side, seemingly unwilling to leave.

Your jaw locks tight when Mark occasionally meets your gaze, rubbing his palms on his thighs and shifting in his seat, manspreading as he relaxes back against the cushions. Your eyes narrow, fighting the urge to roll them when the girl beside him snuggles in closer, offering a smile that could make anyone swoon, but he’s not even looking at her now.

He’s fully looking at you.

Mark’s head tilts to the side, the corner of his lips lifting into a subtle smile, leaving you with a mix of conflicting emotions that makes your head spin. On one hand, there’s a part of you that wants to wipe that look off of his face, fueled by your annoyance and frustration. But on the other hand, there’s a part of you that can’t help but be drawn to that smile, wanting to bask in the attention and keep his gaze fixed on you and you only.

A bitter taste lingers on the tip of your tongue as Mark’s gaze is taken away from you, watching as he leans his head down to listen attentively to the girl who whispers in his ear, her fingertips resting against his jawline to keep him in close. A forced laugh escapes your lips, the sound tinged with bitterness and your tongue prods at the inside of your cheek.

You rip your attention away from the pair, redirecting your focus to Yunjin who looks at you with a confused expression, clearly bewildered by your sudden laughter and you try to shake off that ugly feeling that has settled within you, offering her a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and Yunjin spots that immediately. 

She calls out your name softly, wanting to question your odd behaviour but her words come to a halt when the guy beside you grabs the attention of the group. Was it Dohyun? Dowon? You can’t remember, and frankly you don’t really care enough to remember. But you remain quiet as he speaks, asking if anyone knows where he can purchase weed at the party, if there is anyone who knows who he can buy from as he assures that he has the cash.

Mark. The name flickers in your mind almost instantly and you meet Yunjin’s gaze, watching as she subtly shakes her head at you, knowing exactly what you’re thinking.

“I know someone,” You announce and Yunjin’s shoulders sag as she sighs deeply. You ignore her reaction as you extend your hand towards the guy, “Give me the money. I’ll go get it.”

“Are you sure?” He asks in surprise, hesitating for a moment despite already having the bills ready in the palm of his hand. “I don’t mind getting it—”

“It’s fine.” You cut him off abruptly, curling your fingers around the bills to take into your own hands. You turn on your heels, making a beeline directly towards Mark as you slip through the crowd, pushing through the bodies with determination and fire coursing through your veins, fingers grasping the money tighter just as you get closer, eyes locked in on Mark as he watches you near.

As you stand in front of him, your gaze involuntarily shifts to the girl by his side, tongue clicking against your teeth with bitterness tinging your thoughts as you observe her shuffling closer. Her hand is now resting on Mark’s bicep, fingers sinking into the fabric of his hoodie. 

The sight alone stirs a mixture of annoyance, frustration and jealousy in the pit of your stomach and in the moment, you find yourself in an internal struggle to either make some snarky or bitchy comment in hopes to get Mark to understand how pissed off you truly are, or to continue with what you were originally here for.

“Pre-rolls.” Is what you say with a monotone and direct voice, deciding to get straight to the point, extending your hand as you show Mark the money, making your intention clear.

Mark’s eyes briefly lower to the money before returning to meet yours, “For you or for someone else?”

“Does it matter?” You reply back sharply. “Pre-rolled joints, please.”

“For someone else then,” You hear Mark mutter beneath his breath as he digs inside the pocket of his pants to pull out exactly what you needed, but he’s quick to pull it out of reach as you go to snatch it from his grasp. Your frustration grows within you as you glare at him, but he takes no notice of your expression as he asks, “Are you smoking too?”

“Obviously.”

You watch as Mark reaches back into his pocket and your demeanour shifts slightly as he pulls out another batch of pre-rolls, ones you’re all too familiar with as you see the pink coloured skins. He knows you prefer spliffs over joints. You want to continue being annoyed and angry with how he knows you all too well but yet, deep down, your heart can’t help but thump wildly in your chest and a flutter of warmth swirls in the pit of your stomach at the seemingly thoughtful gesture.

You bite down on your tongue, not wanting to let him know how much that simple action affected you so much, “I don’t have enough money for two.”

“You don’t pay for yours anyways.” Mark states matter-of-factly as he takes the money for one pre-roll and hands you the two. It’s true, you think, curling your fingers around the two pre-rolls he has given you. You’ve never paid him when asking for a smoke, he doesn’t let you pay him.

“You giving out freebies?” The girl beside him speaks up for the first time, her tone playful as she decides to jump in on the conversation. She nudges Mark’s shoulder as she teases, “Pink skins too? How come I don’t get that treatment?”

“Because I’m his favourite,” You find yourself replying before your brain could register it, sending her a forced tight lipped smile as she looks up at you in surprise, not expecting you to be the one to respond. But you couldn’t care less. “Sorry, sweetheart.”

“I was talking more about the pink skins,” She snips back at you and your tongue prods at your cheek once again, fighting off the urge to laugh as she turns to look at Mark as she smiles. “I like pink.”

“They’re for her.” Mark says as he gestures towards you with a nod of his head. The girl’s face drops, her smile completely fading and a sense of satisfaction washes over you. You offer her a sweet, sickly smile in return before leaving the scene, heading straight back to your group who are patiently waiting for you to come back. 

Yunjin comes to stand beside you as you hand the joint over to Dowon (you managed to overhear his name as you were nearing closer to the group.) and he grins in victory, thanking you with a wet, dramatic smooch to your cheek before lighting it up, taking a drag and passing it around the group.

Yunjin leans her head down, disappointment clear in her tone as she speaks to you in hushed whispers, ridiculing you for suggesting Mark in the first place, but her tone soon shifts to curiosity and wonder, wanting to know what happened between you and Mark, and what you both had spoken about.

You were partially honest with your answer, replying that the only topic of conversation was about the deal and you were able to get exactly what you wanted and more as you showed her your own little gift. She grins, bumping her shoulder to yours proudly before jumping in conversation with the others, taking the joint out of another's hand while you tuck yours away in your purse, saving it for later.

You had enough. 

The irritation you felt becomes unbearable, unable to be masked by the alcohol coursing through your veins.

The sight of Mark and the girl still in the same position on the couch; sitting close, sharing whispers and smiles. It gnaws at you despite your failed attempts to bury them with distractions, dancing with others, kissing others with lingering touches.

You’ve reached your breaking point. 

You wish you were drunk enough to ignore everything and continue on with the night, but unfortunately for you, that wasn’t the case. 

You wanted to leave. 

Most importantly, you wanted to leave with him.

You shouldn’t. You know you shouldn’t. It would certainly be easier to leave without him or even find someone else to go home with—Yunjin or some random stranger. But honestly, you couldn’t care less about the easy options. You never cared. 

Abandoning your half-empty cup without a second thought, you leave Yunjin behind, not even bothering to fill her in on what you’re about to do. The sound of her questioning fades into the background as you make your way towards the living room area with a determined stride. 

As you approach closer, a sense of tunnel vision takes over; everything else seems to fade into the background too, sounds becoming distant whispers or muted, completely overshadowed by your own thoughts and emotions.

You begin to second guess how this upcoming conversation would go, if Mark would actually leave with you this time if you asked. After all, he said no to coming here with you, so why would he agree to leave with you? 

You internally scowl at yourself for even thinking about something so negatively. 

He’s wrapped around your finger just as much as you’re wrapped around his.

“I’m leaving,” You declare as soon as you stand in front of Mark, not even giving him enough time to react to your sudden appearance. He remains unbothered, his gaze meeting yours as he lifts a soda can to his lips. His eyebrow raises in response and without missing a beat, you continue, “Come home with me.”

The girl sitting beside Mark reacts with utter disbelief, her mouth dropping open as she scoffs at your audacity, eyebrows knitting together at your words but you’re unfazed by her reaction. It doesn’t make you feel bad at all, not as your focus remains on Mark, waiting for his response.

And in that moment, you feel a sense of victory and satisfaction swell in your chest when Mark gives a simple nod of his head and rises from the couch, reaching in his pocket for his car keys as he bids his friends a goodbye.

“Wait!” The girl exclaims as she interrupts, tone filled with desperation and her hand shoots out, gripping Mark’s upper arm tightly, halting his movements. Her eyes shift towards you at first, giving you a harsh look before turning her attention back to Mark, “Are you serious right now? You were my ride here. How am I supposed to get home?”

You hold yourself back, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from responding, though your annoyance is clearly visible on your face. You keep silent, watching as Mark’s face remains impassive, retrieving his car keys from his pocket.

“That’s not my problem,” He states bluntly, removing her grip from his arm without hesitation, words devoid of any sympathy. “You’ll figure it out.”

The girl’s jaw drops even further, shocked at Mark’s sudden change in attitude and tone. A smug grin finds its way onto your lips, unable to contain that satisfaction bubbling within you and you wave your fingers in her direction as Mark’s arm finds its way around your waist, resting his hand on your hip as he leads you out of the area.

As you’re leaving the building, Yunjin’s disappointed gaze lingers on you, but still mouths for you to be careful and gestures for you to call her when you get home. You nod in acknowledgement, blowing her a kiss before turning away and leaving her behind.

The cold air brushes against your burning skin, but your mind is preoccupied with a whirlwind of angry thoughts and unanswered questions, the scowl is clear on your face. Mark leads the way, guiding you towards his parked car in silence.

It’s deafening and you hate it, intensifying the frustrations that simmer within you. You’re getting angrier.

You climb into the passenger seat, slamming the door shut with enough force it rattles the car. Mark, who seems completely oblivious to your anger or just isn’t taking any notice, takes his place in the driver's seat, and his ongoing silence fuels your irritation even more.

Without sparing you a glance, Mark inserts the key into the ignition and twists it, setting the car’s engine rumbling to life. His attention is on the dashboard as he presses a few buttons to turn on the radio, playing a song you’re all too familiar with but not in the mood to vibe along with like you usually would.

Your frustration grows further when Mark casually drapes one arm around the back of your seat, focussing behind the vehicle as he reverses and then pulls out of the parking space, the car gradually gaining momentum as it merges onto the road. 

Setting back into your seat, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, your gaze alternates between the side of Mark’s face and the road ahead. You’re aware that it would be best to stay quiet and allow yourself to calm down before questioning him, yet the curiosity mixed with annoyance within you refused to be silenced. You bite down on your tongue hard. 

You can’t. 

“Thought you weren’t coming tonight,” You finally speak, unable to hold back your words. The bitterness seeps into your voice as you continue, “I thought you weren’t interested in ‘some lame house party’.”

Mark’s response comes with a nonchalant tone that irks you, “I’m not,” He shrugs his shoulders. “I had things planned, but plans changed.”

“So you decided to come to the party, which I invited you to, with a girl?” You question, unable to hide the tinge of jealousy in your voice.

Mark glances at you briefly, a smirk playing on his lips. His audacity strikes a nerve and you release a dry laugh, your tongue prodding at your cheek in disbelief.

“Sora was one of the people that I was dealing with tonight,” Mark explains, his words casual. “Donghyuck texted me while I was at her house that he was at this party and wanted to buy weed. I told him I’d drop by and give him some.”

Sora. Her name makes your face scrunch up in displeasure. “Right. Then you somehow ended up coming to the party with Sora and stayed for the majority of the night.”

Mark grins, teeth biting down on his bottom lip, “She was actually planning to go to the party after she saw me. But once she found out that I was heading there, she asked if she could ride with me. I drove her, and when I realised Donghyuck wasn’t outside, I was going to leave. Then Sora said she’d help me find him inside, so I went in.”

You mutter under your breath, the words escaping in a frustrated whisper, “Still doesn’t explain why you stayed.”

“I got caught up with friends,” Mark responds simply, his hand reaching over the centre console to rest on top of your thigh, squeezing the flesh beneath his fingers. His touch attempts to sooth you, his voice softening. “Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad,” You lie through your teeth. “Just wish you would’ve at least told me you were coming or came up and said hello when you arrived.”

“I’m sorry,” His apology is minimal, but his tone sounds sincere as his thumb draws circles on your skin. ”Like I said, I wasn’t planning on staying.” Mark takes a quick glance over at you, a smirk tugging on his lips. “You’re wearing that dress I like, baby… walking up to you and saying hello wouldn’t be the first thing I’d do.”

You hum at that, twisting in your seat to face him, “And what would you do?”

“The same thing I did the last time I saw you at a party.” 

The low tone of his voice sends a shiver down your spine and your thighs squeeze together to relieve that sudden ache in your cunt, vividly remembering that night where he tugged you upstairs and fucked you in someones bathroom, not caring that the mirror rattled against the walls and belongings of all sorts had fallen off the counter, creating a mess on the floor that neither of you bothered to clean up when leaving. 

“I don’t remember,” You lie, giving him a glossy smile. “I think you have to remind me.”

Mark looks out into the open road, “Do you see a bathroom anywhere?”

“Funny,” You roll your eyes, but you lean over to brush your fingers over his crotch. “You can just remind me here—”

“We’re not fucking in my car,” His words make your eyebrows raise in shock, your mouth ajar as you scoff before ripping your hand away. Mark smiles, fingers tightening on the steering wheel. “Last time we were in here, you ruined my seats. The shit cost too much to clean, baby.”

You’re bitter as you reply, “You didn’t seem to complain before when you were desperate to make me cum over and over again.”

Mark’s laughter fills the car, his tongue clicking against his teeth as he shakes your head at your bitter attitude. The sound gets on your nerves immensely. You scoff, your arms crossing tightly over your chest, and you direct your gaze out the window, intentionally ignoring him for the rest of the journey.

As the car turns onto your street and your home comes into view, you reach for the seatbelt. Once Mark parks the car outside your house, you swiftly unbuckle and slip out of the car, slamming the passenger door shut with a force that rattles it. The sound of Mark’s laughter only further irritates you.

With your house key in hand, you unlock the door and step inside, feeling Mark’s presence behind you. His warmth brushes against your back, but you refuse to acknowledge it, striding towards your room. Standing in front of your vanity table, you remove your sparkly earrings, your focus solely on the task at hand as you chew your inner cheek with a scowl.

“Don’t tell me you’re ignoring me now,” Mark drawls, his voice reaching your ears. You raise your head to meet his gaze in the mirror’s reflection. He leans against the door frame, a smirk playing on his lips, despite the feigned upset tone in his voice. He continues, “You told me to come home with you, and now you’re giving me this treatment? All because I wouldn’t fuck you in my car? You’re cold, baby.”

You huff quietly, even though you know deep down that Mark’s words hold some truth. You continue to stay quiet, unclasping the necklace from around your neck and placing it back in its designated spot.

Mark’s tongue pokes at his cheek as he continues, “I could’ve just stayed with Sora—”

You immediately bristle, and you whirl around to face him. “You’re not funny.”

Mark’s grin widens, his eyes sparkling. “Got you to finally talk to me, though.”

You let out a forced laugh, your hands planted firmly on your hips as you stare at Mark. “You know what? You can go. I don’t care. Go. Go back to the party and spend the rest of your night with Sora.”

“Hey,” Mark’s response is immediate as he moves towards you, standing right in front of you. His fingers reach up to grasp your jaw, the cool sensation of his rings against your warm skin. He playfully shakes your head, and a part of you wants to push him away, but you remain still, unable to resist him. “Enough, a’ight? You know I’d rather be here with you anyways.”

And you do. Deep down, you know that. But you love pushing his buttons, especially with the thrill it gives you.

Pressing further, you challenge him. “Do I really?”

Mark’s voice hums with confidence. “Of course you do. You know you’re my favourite.”

You blink, “So there are others?”

Mark sucks in a breath, his grip of your jaw tightening as a playful warning. You can’t help but grin, pleased in your ability to get under his skin so easily. “Pain in my ass, I swear.”

A giggle escapes your lips as your arms wrap around his shoulders, and his hand releases your jaw, sliding down to rest at the base of your spine. His fingers put gentle pressure, urging you closer, and you willingly comply as you allow your chest to press against his.

Your fingers curl around the hair at the nape of Mark’s neck, the grin on your lips unyielding as you continue to taunt him. “Pain in your ass, yet you still can’t get enough of me,” You then feign surprise. “Don’t tell me you like me, Mark?”

“Yeah, yeah, you wish.” Mark mutters dismissively, his head dipping down as he crushes his lips against yours in a heated kiss, sending a surge of electricity through your veins. You respond eagerly without a moment of hesitation, matching his fervour, your lips moving in perfect sync.

Mark’s hand glides up from your lower spine to firmly grip the back of your neck, keeping you pressed against him. The sensation of his touch sends shivers down your spine, and you fist the material of his hoodie in your grasp, ensuring that he stays close to you. 

As the kiss deepens, you feel a gentle nip of his teeth on your bottom lip, causing you to gasp at the pinch. Your lips part, giving him an invitation for his tongue to slip inside your mouth. The taste of him, the mingling of your breath, it’s intoxicating to you, and you want more.

The force of his kisses pushing your back against your vanity table, the impact causing a few of your belongings to clatter to the ground. But you pay no mind, your focus is solely on Mark who stands between your parted thighs, his hands sliding beneath the bottom of your dress.

“Lift your hips a lil f’me.” Mark orders you, and you listen. With his fingers that hook under the band of your panties, he pulls them down in one swift movement, discarding the material carelessly to the side before his arm hooks around your back. 

You yelp in surprise as he effortlessly lifts you up from the vanity table, and your legs instinctively wrap around his hips to make sure you don’t fall, but it doesn’t matter when Mark drops you on the bed with a bounce.

Before you can fully register what happened, Mark’s hands curl around your ankle and he tugs you to the edge of the bed, and you watch with parted lips as his hand moves between your thighs to drag his middle finger through your slit.

“You’re fucking soaked…” Mark hums as he lowers himself down, gazing up at you from your parted thighs. A silent gasp leaves your lips as his two fingers sink into your tight, wet heat. “You had so much to say earlier, and now you’re quiet. Feels too good?”

“Just shut up.” You bite back, and a smile breaks out onto Mark’s face, sending you a wink before he leans down and swirls his tongue against your swollen clit, plunging his fingers into your cunt at a steady rhythm. 

Airy moans leave you as you try to watch Mark, but his free hand slowly creeps up your body and pushes down at your chest, making you fall back against the mattress with a huff. You’re reminded of the dress that’s still clinging to your body, making you regret not taking it off sooner, but all of your worries and problems are pushed to the side when you feel Mark’s drape your legs over his shoulders, closing him in.

“Fu—ah,” Your eyes roll to the back of your head, and your back arches off the bed. You’re unable to use your words, lost in the feeling of Mark sucking at your clit and his fingers curling in your spongy walls, brushing over that spot that has your thighs tightening around his head. 

One hand grips the bedsheets, and your other lands on top of his hair, threading your fingers through the overgrown strands and you tug, eliciting a groan from his chest. You’re grinding your pussy against his face, desperate for more, and he doesn’t seem to mind, allowing you to use him as you please. 

Until your legs soon fall from his shoulders when Mark forces them apart, spreading you out in front of him when he feels your climax approaching, and he leans back as he watches his fingers pump into you. The speed in which his fingers move has your legs closing around his hand, and his tongue clicks against his teeth in a sound of disapproval.

“Keep them open,” Mark warns you, and when you fail to listen, his fingers slow down, causing you to glare at him. “Don’t look at me like that. What did I just say?” Your legs part, and Mark nods his head. “That’s right…” 

He picks up speed, and he drives his fingers inside your cunt, a grin playing on his lips as he keeps his gaze locked on yours, staring down at your face as he leans over you. You gasp when his thumb rubs your clit for stimulation, and you immediately cum.

The squelching sound of your wetness is heard throughout the room along with your wailing, your body shakes and walls contract around his fingers. He’s laughing as he fingers you through your orgasm, watching as your body trembles and your hips rut against his hand.

You cry out in pleasure, your body shaking and your brain fuzzy as Mark fingers you through your high, and laughs as he watches you tremble, your hips rutting against his hand before you slump back, trying to catch your breath.

Mark removes his fingers from your sensitive cunt, and you watch through hazed vision as he sucks them clean. The sight alone is enough to have a surge of energy rush through your veins, and you sit up to pull him into a kiss. Mark groans when your tongue slides into his mouth, and when he kneels in between your thighs, he takes hold of your wrist and guides your hands towards his belt.

You immediately know what he wants you to do, and you comply. You unbuckle his belt hastily through hungry kisses, and make quick work of the button and zipper, tugging the material down to the middle of his thighs along with his boxers.

Usually, you would’ve completely rid him of his clothes and yourself. But on this specific night, you were too desperate to have him to go through with the task, and Mark seems to be feeling the same when he suddenly throws you around. 

You huff as the air is knocked out of your lungs when you’re flipped onto your tummy, and you turn your head to the side, cheek mushed against your pillow as you watch Mark through your lashes. He’s fisting his cock, tip leaky and red, spreading his precum around the base. He taps his cock on your puffy folds and you squirm, an irritated whine leaving your lips to which Mark smirks at.

You grit through your teeth, “Hurry up.”

“Just admiring the view,” Mark cheekily replies, giving you a wink before his cock nudges between your folds. “Breathe.” He instructs you.

You bite back the remark that’s resting on the tip of your tongue, and you inhale deeply, only to let out a drawn out moan when Mark pushes himself inside, the familiarity of him stretching out your cunt making your toes curl and fingers grip the bed sheets.

Once he’s fully seated inside your warmth, buried in you to the hilt, you feel his ringed hands slide up your spine beneath your dress, his blunt fingernails pressing into your skin as he drags his hand back down before gripping your hips, keeping you still as he begins to thrust.

“So wet ‘n tight for me, baby…” Mark grunts, pinching your hips. He lays a firm slap on your ass, “So good f’me. Always so good.”

He repeatedly pumps in and out of you, gradually picking up his speed, and you find yourself moaning with each deep thrust of his hips. You fuck yourself back onto his cock when you feel his grip loosen on you, and your volume increases, mewling at the feeling of Mark’s cock fucking you so deep that it makes your head feels fuzzy.

You pant, “I wan’ more.”

“More?” Mark repeats with a chuckle, and his lips curl into a grin as he watches your ass bounce back on his cock. “I’m already deep inside your guts, what more could you want?”

You give him a dark glare in warning, “Mark—”

“You already cum once too,” Mark tsks, and you feel his hand slip around your waist to slot between your thighs. You shiver when you feel the pads of his ringed fingers brush over your puffy clit, “Fucking greedy, aren’t you? You take, take, take…” 

You gasp as his fingers start rubbing slow circles, and your pussy clamps around his cock. “Ah!”

“Good thing I’ll always give you what you want, right?”

Your mouth hangs open, and your eyebrows knit together from the stimulation of Mark’s cock fucking into you and rubbing your clit, the pleasure building. He’s grunting loudly behind you, his free hand giving harsh taps to your ass and soothing over the sore area.

It surprises you slightly when Mark’s hips slows down for a moment as he bends over you to press a wet smooch to your cheek, but you crane your neck awkwardly to capture his lips in a kiss, only lasting a few moments before he straightens and resumes his pace. 

“Gonna cum for me, sweet thing?” Mark asks when he feels the walls of your cunt flutter around him, knowing all too well. You nod your head quickly, and Mark smiles as he pinches your clit, eliciting a squeal from you. “Wait.”

You gape at him, “Wai—you’re joking?”

He raises an eyebrow, “Do I look like I’m joking?”

“I can’t wait!” You bristle, shaking your head quickly, already feeling the pleasure build up in your tummy.

All Mark does is laugh at you, clicking his tongue against his teeth as he mutters about you always getting what you want, and you go to snap back to defend yourself, but the words fail to come out of your mouth when you feel his cock swell inside of your cunt, and with one harsh thrust of his hips, you’re cumming with a loud cry of his name.

He curses under his breath, trying his best to keep the momentum as he pushes further into your tightening walls, only for his orgasm to hit harshly. He’s hips jerk, his cock pumping you full of cum, and he’s breathing heavily as his hands rub your sides.

You’re sweaty and sticky, immediately regretting not taking off your dress the second he had you against the vanity table earlier. You grunt at the ache in your hips and lower back as Mark pulls his cock out of you, and you slump to the bed with a huff, allowing your body to relax while muttering quiet complaints.  

Mark chuckles at your antics, and he reaches out, pressing his fingers into your lower back to massage you and you grin happily, melting at his touch. 

“Spoilt,” Mark states, and you lift your hand to give him the middle finger in retaliation. Mark grins and continues his ministrations for a few more minutes before he lets you go, causing you to jut your bottom lip out into a pout as you turn to look at him. “Easy, girl. You need to go pee, and then we’re gonna go shower. Get you cleaned up.”

A smirk makes its way onto your face as you tease, “How chivalrous.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” He waves dismissively at you, and he stands up from your bed. He offers a hand out to you and you take it, feeling his fingers clasp around yours as he pulls you up, and he wraps a steady arm around your waist as your feet touch the ground. “I still got some weed leftover from the party, I’ll roll when we’re done. Pink skins for the princess, right?”

Feeling smug and confident, you raise your head high. “Right.”

©𝗠𝗥𝗞𝗜𝗦

[omaano]

SW Hades AU Status Update

I wanted to make a dedicated post about what I’m currently working on for the Star Wars meets Hades AU that looks more consistent than just sharing bits and pieces whenever I’m tagged in a Last Line Challenge. Because what else do I have but the poly sketch requests and this AU for my weekends? (If nothing else I know that the Hades AU has got me XD)

For now Obi-Wan and Maul are stuck at the same stage: they are both lined, have their base colours down as well as the two adjustment layers of coloured lighting.

I suspect if I were ever to get through the agonozing few hours of shading Obi-wan’s face it would be mostly smooth sailing from there. The problem is that there are at least 2 - if not 3 - separate stages where the shaded face looks like I have no idea what I’m doing, and you need to get through the whole thing before it really comes together 😅 on the other hand Hades 2 has a lot of the directional shading I might need for his character art so that might help to get me there.

It also needs to be said that Obi-Wan comes with the extra disadvantage that is the entire background behind him. I’m really hyped to line it finally, it is quite a challenge, but at the same time I’m slowly coming to the realization that I have no idea how I will colour it. Hades backgrounds are so so pretty and full of details and gorgeous colours, and while I’m not delusional enough to think I could match that on first try… I still wish I could, you know? At the same time I will have to erase or recolour a lot of my lines, which will hurt quite a bit, I imagine. I’m so bad at killing my darlings 😅 also I hate laying down flat colours. I just find it very difficult to immerse myself in that process, while lining and shading can have their flow.

I had covered up so many lines and details in Maul’s spider parts it’s a miracle I didn’t cry XD However, tips on grouping my shadows and allowing the shape to speak for itself and the details in them are very helpful and on point.

Worrying over writing dialogue for them is also not as far down my to-do list as I wish it were. I have a good enough idea for a quip for Obi-wan, but Maul? He’d need a whole melodramatic rant of his own XD

Aphra has gotten some new lines and I had fixed the satchel I had forgotten the last time I shared the rough sketch for her, thanks to the new character art for Hades 2! Seeing Odysseus and Hermès’s updated looks were great helps here, so I might as well move on to lining her, and finally adding another female character to the roster on top of Ahsoka!

And then there is the biggest update on these little guys below! I will need to clean up the ones I had drawn for Cobb and Boba (and Din) well over a year ago, but with these my version of chtonic companions are done, and thanks to @lesquatrechevrons I have a full list of keepsakes for each character as well. I’m not very good at drawing these little tchotchkes (I say with Rex’s blaster right there LOL) but I hadn’t been very good at lineart or cell shading when I started this project either, so through forced practice I’m determined to change that :D

(It’s not a screwdriver under Boga, it’s one of Cody’s antennas. “It will grow back, don’t worry,” he says as he snaps it off his pauldron and hands it over to Din. Rex backs him up on that one without question. They can't lie for shit but trolling the shiny is their thing.)

Additional fun fact: the reason why I’d picked up the chtonic companions concepts was because I’d been poking at minor details in the background behind Maul (aside from the Chaos doors), and I started adding credits and recoloured nectar to the corner (before I realized that they wouldn’t be visible once the character interaction comes up oops), and I tried to figure out to whose keepsakes Maul would react favorably. I also mixed up companion dolls and keepsakes, so that’s why the Ahsoka doll came to being (I also forgot that that one belongs to Rex, and not Ahsoka herself but uh… they are close enough that they should count by proxy anyway. It’s not Obi-wan’s cup of tea and that should be enough!). Also bless @mapleowl18 for suggesting Lil Soka as companion for Rex ❤️

So this is the current state of this AU project right now. I have my lists and notes, a few scribbled pose ideas in my sketchbook for Sabine (she might be next, unless Bo and her Nite Owls make a comeback), Satine and Omega (with Batcher), as well as some angry scribbles and question marks for Quinlan (who has apparently made his way back into this AU even though he didn’t get a little icon of his own originally orz), and Obi-wan The Second that would stand with Cody post reunion, but I cannot make that one work for now 😅

[geckoomoria]

Routledge reader x jj 👀

Interpret it however you want but I eat that trope up every time.

also I love ur writing sm 😍

Worth it- jj may bank x rout-ledge reader

babe i love you.

HMMM I WAS ACC THINKING ABT THIS ONE SO U READ MY MIND CUTIE but like i was thinking wb John B having a sister thats a year or two older and jj has this huge crush on her.

low-key wanna make her a lil masc. like car mechanic and a smoker type shit ( shares interests with jj)

sorry this took so long to post , took me a while to think of the right story. AND SORRY ITS SO LONG I JUST REALLT LIKE SETTING THE SCENE.

mentions of blood , fighting , smoking , yelling, abusive home

————————————★ —————————————

Wednesday, June 17th

6:40 pm

THE POGUES DECIDED TO GO FOR A BOAT RIDE hoping to cure their boredom on this hot summer day. 4 of the teenagers decided to test the cool waters , swimming , surfing and fishing.

As the daylight eventually ended and the sun was beginning to set, they all made their way to Twinkie , John b’s van and as fate would have it , it appeared to be broken down in some way.

“man why is it making that weird ass sound?” questions Jj as he keeps trying to turn on the ignition but fails each time.

“you think i know? probably busted somewhere” john b replies looking around for any signs of why the Twinkie wont start.

the van finally starts but it continues making a weird noise , scaring the group into thinking it wont last much longer.

Pope cant take waiting any longer “call AAA or something, if we die in that deathtrap im suing you” Kiara nods in agreement with him.

John B rolls his eyes at his friends antics and pulls out his cellphone “yeah yeah i got something better than AAA”

the three other Pogues share glances in confusion wondering who he’s calling other than car service.

After a few moments talking on the phone with much annoyance from Jj getting close in an attempt to hear , he finally ends the call.

“alright lets head down” he says getting in the drivers seat. “to?” Kiara questions

“Y/n , shes in town and working today. Said she’ll take a look” , Pope and Kiara eyes nearly pop out of their skulls , no idea of John Bs older sister being in town since you travelled for studies and job opportunities a lot.

Jj on the other hand is stunned a little , he remembers you very clearly yet its been years since seeing you.

You were a year older than John B and Jj always had a huge crush on you as a kid.

He even remembers that stupid promise you made him when he was 9 and you were 10. If you weren’t married by 25 , you would marry Jj.

To you it might have seemed like an fun empty promise made to a kid to keep him happy but to Jj? He still held onto that all these years.

every girl he was with , he refused to let it go farther than a hookup because he wanted nothing more than to be with his longtime crush.

Jj finally snapped out of his trance as John B calls his name for the 5th time , making him realize they all already got into the van while he was reminiscing.

He was anxious the whole ride to the mechanic shop , wondering if you’d even remember him let alone his massive crush on you.

The group finally makes their way towards the shop with no one working to be seen. John B calls out your name repeatedly while looking around.

Finally Kiara nudges him to catch his attention on the pair of legs that’s underneath a car. “N/n? that you?” the younger Routledge calls out.

You slide from underneath the car the you were working on , standing up and wiping the oil off of your hands with a rag.

You looked different, you had obviously matured physically and likely mentally.

Obviously you would look different from when you guys were kids , you looked beyond beautiful now.

Jjs eyes were stuck on your figure as you pull john b into a tight hug , giving him a ear pull to tease him while your at it.

oil smeared on your face , your mechanic overalls opened from the top half to drape down the bottom half showing a black halter bikini top that also revealed a belly button piercing , paired with black combat boots.

Your eyes averted to your younger brothers friends recognizing them from whenever you came to visit.

Pope and Kiara basically threw themselves towards you as its been years since they’ve seen you.

You then lastly notice the tall muscular blonde boy with his hat flipped backwards to be quite familiar, staring at you.

You knew exactly who this was.

“is that who i think it is?” you say in a teasing tone , pointing at Jj with a smirk on your face.

“yes its your future husband.” is what Jj swore was gonna come out of his mouth but instead he continued to stare at you , eyes wide.

“oh cmon J, dont tell me you don’t remember me” you asked with a dramatic tone underlying your words. Jj and his friends knew for a FACT he was making an absolute fool of himself right now.

You were always attractive to him but seeing you so… badass made you 10x hotter

He needed to say something in response to you right now or else he’d continue embarrassing himself.

“Y/n?” he questions half heartily as if it wasn’t the most obvious thing ever.

“well i was hoping you’d say the better sibling but that works too” you say causing John B to push your shoulder slightly and earned chuckles from Pope and Kiara.

The silence that follows was deafening , making you all stand there awkwardly as Jj continued to stare at you. His friends were beyond surprised to see Jj of all people be so stunned of a girl.

“so uh you said Twinkie broke down?” you say filling the silence

“yeah keeps making this weird noise , no clue whats going on” your younger brother replies

you grab your tools and slide under John b’s van , tinkering the car while the Pogues wait around.

The four start whisper arguing in hopes of you not hearing:

“what the hell was that??”

“yeah Jj man why are you acting so weird around her?”

“i don- i dont know! i just couldn’t speak alright! i think i have like hemorrhoids!”

“Jj i dont think you know what hemorrhoids are”

“alright spill. whats going on with you and Mrs Routledge over there?”

“its Miss* Routledge actually. Jeez you guys make it sound like im supposed to be having my third child by now when im only a year older” you say from under the van , butting into their not so secret conversation leaving the whole group to stare at Jj who’s gone red in the face.

They decide to stay silent for the rest of the time so Jj doesn’t pop a blood vessel out of embarrassment anytime soon.

around half an hour later , you come out from under the van and wipe your hands again , telling john b to turn on the ignition. It turns on with no apparent problem and hums like a brand new vehicle.

The pogues cheer loudly in victory , you start cleaning up as your shift was coming to an end anyways. The pogues eye each other as you turn your back , all wanting to spend more time with you.

“uh n/n?” calls out Jj as the rest nudge him to talk making you look up at the rest of them , all with puppy like eyes that made you guess they were gonna beg you for something.

“we were uh- gonna go crash a party , yo- you wanna come along?” he says stumbling on his words a little

he was so cute when he was nervous.

you had a feeling none of them were gonna let this go. You sigh in defeat and agree , making them cheer that John b’s “cool ass sister” as they described was coming along.

At the beach party

It had been around an hour since you all arrived, drinking , dancing , smoking weed and hanging out was the main thing you all did.

Jj still hadn’t really held a proper conversation with you , every-time he tried you were catching up with someone else or he’d just get cold feet and chicken out.

He sighed as he sat down to take a smoke on his own by a tree , unaware of your presence above him.

“didn’t know you smoked, y’know its bad for you right” you uttered catching his attention while pulling out a cigarette of your own.

at first he’s stunned that you spoke to him first but figured this was his chance. “whats that then?” he says eyeing the cigarette in your mouth as you lit it

“dont question your elders” blowing out a puff of smoke from your mouth

he laughs “okay granny did you forget that its only by a year” , “still older than ya hon”.

A sound of tranquility fills the air as you two continue smoking , the cold breeze hitting your faces as the party behind you continues.

“im sorry” Jj says sombrely breaking the silence while avoiding eye contact

“for?”

“making things so awkward back there, i was just surprised to see you”

“dont sweat it J , its been a while so i get it. im just glad you remembered me”

“you are?” the blonde boy says facing you now curiously

“i mean yeah , you always were my favourite out of my brothers friends J” you say taking a hit on your cigarette

Jj’s heart sinks a little , right thats all you saw him as , your younger brothers friend.

you take his silence as an odd response, pressing him for more. “what? whats wrong?” you ask

in a bitter quiet tone he mutters “nothin.”

“dont give me that , what did i say?”

“Why cant you see me more than that! why cant you see me!” he outbursts in a much louder tone attracting some glances from people while he stands up

“what are you talking about??” you ask mimicking his stance while putting out your cigarette.

he closes his eyes out of frustration for a second and takes his cap off , running his hands through his blonde shaggy hair.

“im talking about how you don’t remember me liking you , no y’know what loving you!” he spits out in an angry manner

“what? Jj we were kids! why would your crush from years ago matter now!”

“Damn it cause its not from years ago! i still have one. i haven’t forgotten about you at all and you dont even notice me.” he gets in close to you

you stay silent as he attempts to walk away but you grab his shoulder , pulling him back.

“sit.” he obeys defeatedly after hearing the sterness in your tone.

“admit it. its been a while since we’ve been kids and you ARE my brothers best-friend. You really still have feelings for me?”

Jj nods in response as if its the only thing he’s sure of , staring into your eyes.

“then… okay.” He tilts his head slightly confused , you put your hand for him to shake.

“im Y/n Routledge, you’re Jj right?” you grin

He smiles and shakes your hand. This meant a new beginning , a way to start over.

“does this make you a cougar?” he says making you laugh out loud , “dunno how many times i have to say it , im only a year older”

“yes ma’am” he responds making you shove his shoulder causing him to laugh now

The sound of commotion from the beach makes you revert your attention there , everyone was gathering around a fight.

you both stand up and make your way to watch it , you became worried as Kiara , Pope and Sarah Cameron were all screaming.

John B was getting his ass beat by Topper. You wanted to get involved but Jj beat you to it.

He yanked topper by the shirt and punched him, causing him to let go of John B. Kiara and pope running to help him up.

As he was going to throw another punch at the Kook , you grabbed his arm with the intention of not wanting anything bigger to start. “Jj he’s not worth it. lets get out of here”

seeing the look on your face and the rest of the Pogues , he lowered his guard and turned away from Topper as you all walked away.

“Thats right Maybank! should listen to her , dont wanna follow in your Old mans footsteps!”

Crack!

the sound of your fist hits toppers big ass mouth causing blood to gush out.

Everyone stares at you wide eyed. Everyone.

You walk away pissed off and hand bloodied. Jj clearly fighting back a smile “thought he wasn’t worth it?”

“yeah but you are.”

————————————★ —————————————

this was lowkey fun to write especially hitting topper. is it bad i wrote this with fully just the intention of hitting topper😭😭

leave anything in my inbox !!

i love gaining mutuals guys.

I HATE HOW LONG I MAKE DRABBLES BUT I CANT STOP.

also does the colour coding of what characters say bother anyone bc ive been like getting annoyed with the diff colours but it makes seeing which character says what so much easier.

i also just realized all my jj works are always involving a party😭😭 but like its such a him thing , to be partying

[nhothicket]

ON MY KNEE IM IN LOVE WITH YOUR BAND AU ON MY KNEES BEGGING FOR ANYTHING ELSE YOU HAVE TO SPARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A FANFIC, FANART, JUST A SIMPLE LIKE ANYTHING TEXT POST SOBBING AND WEEPING AT YOUR FEET!!!!!!!!

I decided to do both some art and a fic because you asked so nicely!! Thank you for the nice ask, I hope this is what you were looking for ^v^

I couldn't come up with a good title for this fic whoops.

Words - 1.4k

No warnings, they're gay and they act gay

Summary - Etho finds himself dragged away from the safety of his tour bus and into the den of very scary and very cool rockstar, Bdoubleo.

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

"Wash up on your six." Pause lightly elbowed Etho with a snicker. "Comin' right for ya."

"Hurry up then." Etho tried to push his bandmates into the bus, but the chase was over before it began.

"Etho!" The threat approached.

"Beef, move-"

"Sorry man, you're on your own." Beef climbed on and turned to give him an entirely unapologetic smile. "You guys have fun now."

"Hey-" The bus door shut right in his face. "Beef! Pause! Hey!"

"Ethooo!" Two arms slung around his neck from behind, awkwardly pulling him down and backward. Etho gagged and turned around. Face to face with the tiny menace of the festival grounds. "Long time no see!"

"Hey, Bdoubleo."

"So formal, you're no fun, sweetheart." Bdubs puffed his cheeks out. "It's been like a y- like whole year, c'mon, loosen up!"

"It's been a few months and I'm busy."

"No you ain't. I saw your buddies ditch ya." Bdubs offered up all the charm he could muster. "Wanna hang out in my van?"

"Not creepy at all." Etho's protest was weak willed. He leaned down and ruffled Bdubs' hair without even thinking about it, it came as a second nature at this point. "Yeah, sure."

"You just can't deny me. I'm irresistible!"

"Uh-huh."

"Your sarcasm is no use!" Bdubs dragged Etho across the lot to his shabby old van. Etho would judge, but if it weren't for Beef and Pause, he'd be touring out of the back of his ancient pickup. Bdubs threw the back doors open and hopped inside. "Didya see my set this morning? I know it was a bit early for someone like you."

"Of course I did." Etho gracefully ignored the last comment. Perched on the edge of the trunk, Bdubs' enthusiasm was contagious, his prideful smile was so genuine it made Etho smile a bit under his mask in a shallow imitation. "Loud as always."

"You know it!" The back of Bdubs' van was surprisingly clean. Two seats sat on each side and a mini fridge was pressed into the back corner. A soft mat was rolled up opposite to it, presumably Bdubs' bed. Bdubs got up to flop onto a seat and pat the spot next to him. "Beer?"

"Uhh..." As soon as Etho sat down an arm settled around his shoulders. "Yeah, sure. Why not?"

"That's what I like to hear." Bdubs opened up his little fridge and tossed Etho a can. He refused to remove his arm from Etho's shoulders and instead used his teeth to crack his own can open, kicking the fridge shut. "Off with the mask! I'm not some fanboy, I'm the real deal! Itsh been so long, I've missed seeing your dopey face."

"Bold words coming from the goofiest solo act I've ever seen."

"I am not goofy! I'm hard!"

"Oh?" Etho pulled his mask down just to show Bdubs his smug smirk.

"Don't- don't give me that! You know what I mean!" Bdubs growled. "I'm a rockstar!"

"You were like decades ago."

"And still going strong!" Bdubs took an obnoxious gulp from his beer. "You are awfully mouthy for a man who plays a freakin' keytar, what decade is it for you?"

"You'd know, old man."

"I am not- Okay, old lady! Fresh outta the 1600s!"

"Boomer."

"That's my name! Don't wear it out, Ethel!"

They glared at eachother for a moment, locked in a silent staring contest. Bdubs and his obnoxious doe eyes were forever unbeatable though, and Etho was forced to blink. A very ungraceful winner cheered and crushed a can to further punctuate his manly dominance.

"I'm never forgiving Pause for telling you."

"Aww, but its so cute." Bdubs pinched Etho's cheek. "What, your parents wanted a girl or something?"

"Sure, something like that." Etho sipped from his beer, sliding a bit down the seat so Bdubs could more comfortably pull his charm. As small as Bdubs was, it was always comical watching him stretch to take up the more dominant flirting positions. Etho knew he'd sit there with his arm up around his shoulders until it went numb if that's what it took.

"You haven't told me you missed me yet."

"I forgot I even knew you."

"Ouch! Rude." Bdubs leaned closer and winked. "I think about you all the time."

"Yeah, because you're the most jealous person I know."

"Guilty as charged!" Bdubs chirped. He easily slid right back into joking when his attempt at flirting was met with more banter; Etho wasn't sure he'd be able to recover that quickly himself.

"Plotting my downfall, huh?"

"I'll get you some day."

"I'm rooting for you."

"Thank you, sweetheart! You're always on my side." Bdubs tapped his can to Etho's. "To ruining your career."

"To ruining my career."

The pair fell into a lull, Bdubs kept chatting, but it was mostly white noise. Bdubs talked just to talk and Etho listened just to listen. It was only a few beers later and the lull transitioned into a comfortable buzz. Bdubs got a bright idea. He reached over the seats in the middle of the van, clumsily pulling over his decorated acoustic guitar.

"Any requests, Easy?"

"Anything but one of your own." Etho absent-mindedly dropped his arm around Bdubs' shoulders, reestablishing the connection that had been broken when the shorter man went to get his instrument.

"You are so mean to me." Bdubs puffed his cheeks out as he thought. "We should do some music together sometime."

"You'd be eaten alive." Etho considered the reputation Bdubs had. "I can see it already— you fighting with all the people online."

"It'd be worth it." Bdubs played a few random chords. "We could do a love duet."

"With Pause? I'm not a vocalist, Bdubs."

"You didn't deny being in love with me."

"I wouldn't have to love you to sing a song with you."

"I'd write it about us, baby."

"Uh-huh." A brief silence started to build, but Bdubs quickly broke the tension with a snicker, Etho followed suit. "You're an idiot."

"C'mon! You got a good voice. We could do an epic rock ballad."

"I'm good."

"Your loss!" Bdubs turned back to his guitar, but Etho could see the mischief brewing on his face. "You still like Paramore?"

"Don't play it."

"I learned a song just for you!"

"Don't play it, Bdubs." He already knew what the sappy romantic had in mind.

"You are so unappreciative. I go out of my way to learn a nice song from the 'music' you like." Bdubs threw up air quotes and Etho just rolled his eyes. How a man who'd sold his soul to the system could stand to be so critical of what counted as music was beyond him.

"Give me your guitar."

"No!" Bdubs got two chords out before Etho pulled it from his hands. "Hey! Hey! Give it here!"

"I'm not letting you try to serenade me with a song you heard on the radio."

"You know it would work! C'monnn!"

"Absolutely not." Etho held the guitar away from Bdubs, but regrettably, he couldn't hide his smile when his mask was around his neck.

"You come into my house! Sit on my bed! And dare disrespect me like this?"

"We are in the back of a van, Bdoubleo."

"My home away from home!" Etho leaned across the trunk and dropped the guitar onto the other seat. Bdubs immediately tried to lunge for it, but Etho caught him in a bear hug before he could even stand up. In fact, being hugged instantly stopped Bdubs in his tracks. "Woah, hey- guess I didn't need to serenade you at all!"

"Sure." Etho pulled away so he could see Bdubs' face. Alcohol warmed cheeks, dark eyes, and a stupid smirk.

"Like what you see?"

"Maybe."

"Shomehow, you manage to dry text when you talk." Bdubs rolled his eyes. He leaned up and kissed Etho, his patience worn thin in his buzz. Etho pulled him closer. "I missed you."

"Me too." Etho finally admitted. They sat with their foreheads pressed together.

"You could afford to text back more often, I know you ain't that freakin' famous."

"Isn't the anticipation more fun?"

"Don't play coy! I know you're just lazy."

"Guilty." Bdubs pressed a flurry of kisses to Etho's jaw.

"You're lucky I even allow you in my pre- in my presence, I don't usually kiss fans."

"It's a good thing I don't care much for sellouts then."

"Kiss my ass."

"Ohh, the bad boy said a curse word."

"Get out of my van, I'm sick of your stupid face already." Bdubs grumbled. Yet, his arms stayed locked around Etho's waist. Etho made no attempt to change that.

"Gonna be at our set tomorrow? It's past your bedtime."

"You're worth stayin' up for." Bdubs cooed. "Better dedicate a song to me."

"We'll play twinkle twinkle little star for you."

"On your nerdy little fake guitar?"

"On my nerdy little fake guitar."

"Adorable."

[quodekash]

FUUUUUUUUUUUCKing hell theyre gonna kiss today????

hes so grumpy already I love this so much

the silent conversations chain and toey are having with their eyes oml I cant

pls this is so funny

theyre both deeply in love with someone else so it's jsut so unnatural to them

BUT ALSO id like to mention that the first thing chain did when he had to pretend to be hitting on toey was put his arm around his shoulders and rest his hand there. which is what he's literally ALWAYS doing with pun, no matter when it is, he's always standing next to pun with his hand resting on one of his shoulders

its like he associates his time with pun as being in a romantic relationship 👀

THESE FUCKIN BASTARDS 😭

JUST KISS IM BEGGING YOU

theyre lost in their own little world 🥺

kiIIIIIS

this is too funny, the cuts from "chain. chain what happened next." to ✨soulful dramatic guitar music✨

im sad they didnt actually kiss but also im not surprised

LOOK AT THEM, DUDE

THEYRE SO NATURAL WITH EACH OTHER

I FUCKIN LOVE FRIENDS TO LOVERS SO SO MUCH

half convinced theyre already dating, they just cant be bothered saying anything so theyre waiting for others to ask them about it

PUN IS SO CUTE DUDE I ADORE HIM HES FUCKING ADORABLE

I LOVE THEM SO FUCKING MUCH THEYRE SOIMPORTANT TO ME

if I ever have a romantic partner, this is what I want

I cant explain it, I just wanna run up to them with pure joy and excitement, and for them to hold me back by just pushing against my skull

it just seems perfect, idk why

GB4JHERGB

THE FRIENDSHIP OF ALL TIME

genuinely think I might be more invested in their friendship than all the romantic relationships in this show

im fucking CRYING

my king matt, this was so unnecessary and I love everything about it

why does it suit him so well tho

they should kiss again I think

I feel everything about this image on a spiritual level

THIS ENTIRE AMUSEMENT PARK SEQUENCE BRINGS ME SO MUCH JOY AND DOPAMINE IM IN LOVE WITH THSI EPUSODE

NEW COMFORT EPISODE UNLOCKED

look its really funny but I do feel bad cos this day is not even a little bit fun for him

like q is having a complete shit time

poor chain doesn't love amusement parks but he has to go on the rides with toey to keep up the facade cos toey loves these rides 😭

and its even worse realising Q also seems to love amusement parks, so he would be having a fucking amazing time if he could just go on all the rides next to Q cos they both love it so much 😭😭

fuckin FINALLY

LMAO WHAT

THIS IS SO FUCKING FUNNY I JUST SCREECHED WITH LAUGHTER SO LOUD AND ITS MIDNIGHT

THE PURE COMICAL SHOCK AS HE REALISDE WHAT HE SAID, THE EXCITEMENT FROM EVERYONE ELSE AS THEYR EALISE WHAT HE SAID

I mean to be fair it was REALLY obvious

im surprised no one noticed earlier but also its a bl so im not at all surprised to find out theyre all fuckin dumbasses

SERIOUSLY THO TANFANG IS WHAT I WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP HOLY SHIT

a lot of the time watching bls ill be like "I want that" but its usually as a joke

but THIS?? the fucking adhd bastard (me) who just wants to be near their partner and compliment and always stimming and just having a swell fucking time while the other one loves them but is mildly tired but also in adoration? FUCKIN GIMME

also how the fuck has Q not realised, theyre all so fucking obvious

also also I cant explain it it just feels deeply as though pun and chain are for real dating they just havent told anyone yet

ill make a post about it all at some point maybe (I definitely wont)

PHYSICAL TOUCH IS HIS LOVE LANGUAGE 😭😭😭

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH HE DOESNT HAVE TO HOLD HIM SECRETLY ANYMORE THEY CAN JUST WALK HAND IN ARM NATURALLY NOW

hear me out tho, this gets even funnier if he's actually already in a committed relationship that no one knows about yet

I dont think it's secret dating, it's just 'not super obvious dating to try and see JUST how oblivious all our friends are. its been three years at this point and still no one's said anything. we're starting to lose all hope.'

I love tan so much, the little wave

what the FUCK

what the FUCK FUCK???

THE SOUNDWIN LINE????

HERE IT IS ITS FUCKIN COMIN GUYS

HE SAID IT

HE FUCKIN SAID IT

[insert that gif of the crowd of people in the bar going insane]

holy fucking shit dude holy fucking shit

my legs are literally shaking idk if I can do this

FUCK TO THE YES, FUCKING EXPLICIT ASK FOR CONSENT HOLY FUCKING SHIT

WHAT THE FUCK

AND THE FUCKING SONG IN THE BACKGROUND !!!!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT DUDE

im gonna be here all day

I dont even need to watch the rest of the episode now

I can just go to bed if I want and watch the rest later or smth

dude I cant wait for q to realise that toey is milk frappe guy

HOLY FUCKING SHIT IT JUST PROCESSED IN MY MIND THAT THEY KISSED

WHAT THE FUCK

omg making out in a haunted house, what a dream

the workers watching on the security cameras probably had a blast that day

how funny would it be if there'd been a scare actor in the shadows in that room with them and they'd been about to scare them but they were too shocked with that tender kiss to remember they have a job

he needs to lie on his bed and just stare at his roof and think about that for a while

tbh same

look at him 🥺 he's so lost in that memory

thEY FUCKIN MADE OUT HOLY FUCK

welp on that note I think im done for now

I might finish the ep with my silly thoughts+screenshots later but for now tis the time for sleep

[elizabethemerald]

Summon the Cat: Part 6

Master Post

Danny crouched, looking down at the McMansion from a neighboring roof. The house was ostentatious to a fault. He wasn’t much of an expert on architecture in general but he had studied this building’s design extensively. It had been built to one up its next door neighbor that Danny was currently waiting upon. Due to trying to get the most of the available acreage the mansion pressed up against its neighbors, rather than the extensive topiary gardens the rest of the rich mansions had. 

The house Danny was on had a pool house that once had a beautiful view, except the garage of the McMansion now overshadowed it. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes. All rich people were fruit loops. The continued drama with Bruce just proved him right. 

According to Selina (his new mom!!) Bruce had thrown seven kinds of fits about the Kyle family moving in next door. He had tried to bench Red Robin for selling Drake Manor, but Tim just moved out to his penthouse in Gotham proper and had the occasional sleep over at the Kyle House when he was feeling lonely. 

The kids all seemed happy to have the Kyles and the Sirens so close. Jason and Dick were over every other week, Jason to experiment with his cooking, Dick to train Danny and Jazz in gymnastics. Danny loved Jason’s skill in the kitchen and was paying avid attention so he could learn how to cook, because he certainly didn’t want the Fenton’s terror in the kitchen to infect him. Jazz was content to know that they were both eating nutritious food that they didn’t have to fight. Also, she had apparently always wanted to be in gymnastics but the Fentons considered it less important than ghost hunting and she couldn’t afford the lessons on her own. Danny of course used the lessons during his training with his mom to be a cat burglar. 

Jazz spent a lot of time with Stephanie and Cassandra. Bruce had tried to bench them as well, except Steph had laughed in his face while Cass had stolen any equipment they needed and the pair moved into the Kyle House, more specifically into Jazz’s bedroom. He wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what the three girls were up to in there, the love bites on Jazz’s shoulders made it obvious, but he didn’t want to think about his sister’s love life, though he was happy that the two girls made her so happy. 

He stuck out his tongue in disgust at the reminder of the one time he had a nightmare and almost walked in on the triad, then groaned quietly as he had licked the inside of his mask. Danny, Selina and the rest of the Sirens worked together to design his new costume. His nose and mouth were covered by a rigid mask and respirator shaped into the rictus grin of the Cheshire Cat. Selina had bemoaned not thinking about covering her face more with her costume. Harley had recommended leaning into his creepy factor, with the grin and slit eyes on his goggles. He could make both glow when he wanted to up the creep factor even more. 

Danny had enjoyed crafting the character he wanted to portray with his mom and his two aunts. He would allow his giggles to get caught on cameras, or the glow of his eyes to be seen. It was fun to be spooky without also getting chased by either his parents or the GIW. He had chosen the name Chesire as his thief name as an homage to his mom’s name of Catwoman. He had heard that there was apparently a villain named Chesire already, but he hoped that considering they were interested in such different crimes she wouldn’t be mad. 

His outfit was equipped with top of the line tools. Some he had made himself, some he had pickpocketed from the bats, including his own father. He made certain that he kept a clear division between when he was out as Chesire and when he was hanging out with the Waynes as Danny Kyle. He didn’t want them to worry about his intentions when he was with them. Harley had sewn his costume and the reinforcements necessary to tangle with the Justice League and the Bats. Ivy had given Danny some toys as well, his respirator could filter out any plant based toxin, and he had some pollens, spores and toxins of his own to knock out guards. 

On top of the mask and goggles he had a loose cowl with cat ears on top that completed his look. The cowl hid his identity without hampering his movement like the stiff ears Batman had would. He loved the spookiness of allowing his eyes to glow through his goggles from the depths of the hood. 

Danny tilted his head as a click sounded in his ear piece. He grinned and jumped across the high fence to their target. Selina was used to working by herself so she kept any conversation to a minimum, relying on small signals to show him when it was time to move. 

He landed lightly on an air conditioning unit, using just a touch of flight to slow his landing and eliminate the sound. He stood on his tiptoes and pulled a screwdriver from his kit. He had rebuilt the small tool himself, making it whisper quiet. Even the small sound of the tool was covered by the whir of the AC unit as he unscrewed the vent above his head. He gently pried the vent cover off, then hooked a cord through the vent itself so it dangled from the opening. 

Danny levered himself up and into the small opening. He couldn’t imagine his mom squeezing through the small gap, even though she had to do that herself when she was younger. Fortunately, he was skinny as a twig and had his ghost strength to lift himself up. Aunt Harley called him wiry. Jason called him a shrimp, though he changed his tune when Danny dead lifted him. 

He crept across the ductwork above the garage, looking down on the cars after he pulled the vent cover back into place with the cord and secured it with a bit of plain Blu tack. Mom insisted that you could have the best tech in the world, but sometimes simple solutions were the best. They had considered stealing the fancy showpiece cars, but cars were much easier to track and they already had Bruce breathing down their necks so they weren’t worth it. That didn’t mean they couldn’t cause some chaos, just for fun. 

Danny hooked his ankle around one of the duct supports and leaned down until he was upside down and took careful aim with a grapple he pickpocketed from Nightwing only this past week. He had been practicing this shot for hours every day for weeks. He took a deep breath, then triggered the grapple. The hook bounced off the concrete under a fake Model T at the perfect angle to hook the top of a storage rack against the wall. The rack was filled with tools and parts so the rich prick who owned the McMansion could pretend he actually worked on the cars himself. 

He reeled in the grapple until the shelf was on the verge of tipping forward, the cable straining against the bottom of the Model T, and he couldn’t help his namesake Cheshire grin. He hooked the grapple gun onto the duct support and playfully tapped the taut line like a piano string. This would make a delightful mess to cover his exit. 

Another click in his ear reminded him that they were on a time clock. Selina had bought them a couple of hours free of the Bat and that time was closing steadily. He finished making his way into the house proper. He found the central control for the house’s security system easily enough. He broke the cover off the panel and quickly bypassed the security. 

Selina had been surprised by his ease with bypassing electronic systems. Danny had learned a lot from Tucker and repeated encounters with Technus, but he had been dealing with the security systems of the Fentons for as long as he could remember. He could rewire and bypass most security systems in his sleep, and they wouldn’t even shoot him if he failed. 

He tapped his ear piece sending a single click and after a few moments he was joined by his mom as she walked in the front door, bold as brass. She smiled at him and rubbed his head, causing Danny to preen and his core to thrum in his chest. 

“Well done, kitten.” She said, practically purring in pride, before she glanced around the ground floor of the McMansion. “Now, Cheshire. You picked this mark, let’s get away with everything we can.” 

The mother-son duo made quick work of the mansion’s valuables. Art pieces and statues were slipped into a bag that Danny had connected to the Infinite Realms. The ectoplasm would short out any electronics or trackers and they wouldn’t have to worry about fleeing while loaded down. He would be able to recover the larger goods later when the heat had all but disappeared. He didn’t have perfect control over his portal abilities, but it was enough to get back and forth from the Realms. Training his powers with Selina and his aunts had really improved his skills. 

The two of them worked in tandem, flawlessly stripping valuables, cracking a safe in the bedroom, and taking everything they could get their claws on. Danny felt flushed with happiness. He was working alongside his mom, stealing from a rich prick who stole from his workers, he felt amazing. 

A click sounded in both of their ears, causing them to pause. Their window of Bat free time just closed. They slung their collection of valuables over their shoulders and began to race back through the house. Selina split off, her whip cracking as she swung off to another building. Danny made his way back into the garage as Robin and Red Robin landed behind him. Danny smiled, and allowed his eyes and mouth to glow for the full Cheshire effect. 

He activated the grapple gun as he passed and with a whir and an almighty crash the storage rack collapsed down onto the vintage vehicles. Red Robin yelped as he tried to follow but was forced to dodge a bouncing tire. Robin was far more nimble making his way through the mess, but he was still delayed enough by the wreckage for Danny to dive through the vent and jump to get back to the roof of the pool house next door. As soon as he was out of range of the cameras he vanished and lifted up into the air, flying silently and invisibly. He carefully moderated his body temperature so he was exactly the same temp as the surrounding night air. He didn’t want to risk showing up on heat sensors used by the Bats. 

Danny followed another crack of his mom’s whip to where she was running just ahead of the Bat himself. He scowled as Bruce threw a pair of Batarangs at her, though he was relieved as she nimbly dodged them. Danny may have had numerous problems with the Fentons, but at least he never had to be afraid of one of them hurting each other. Seeing his mom in danger from the man who should be his dad filled him with a cold anger. He tapped his ear piece to let her know he was free of the mansion and that he was close. 

Selina stopped running and turned, to saucily sashay towards the heavily armored Batman. He had considered making his costume super flirty and evocative like his mom’s but it made him uncomfortable, like ants were on his skin to have people stare at him like that. Jazz had reminded him that he didn’t have to do everything exactly like Selina did, and that it was important for him to carve his own path forward. 

“Catwoman. Enough is enough. I need you to submit to testing. You are being controlled.” Batman growled, and Danny struggled not to growl right back. He wasn’t controlling her! And how dare this jerk growl at his mom!

“Submit? To you? That’s not how our arrangements usually work.” Selina said with a coy smile as she swished her whip across the rooftop, not even acknowledging the rest of his words. Apparently after the past couple of months she had grown bored with trying to argue with him, and she was refusing to be tested for mind control just to antagonize him. 

Also, gross. 

That was another reason he was glad he didn’t copy her flirty persona. His mom was very comfortable with her body and her sexuality and she admitted she got a thrill when she used either to control people around her. Danny, who was still coming to terms with possibly being ace and had all the body issues of a bullied teen, only felt anxious when he tried to flirt. 

He crept through the air towards his mom, pulling strongly on his intangibility and control of his own temperature to make himself completely undetectable. He carefully watched the Bat for any sudden moves. 

“Catwoman-” 

“Don’t you ever get tired?” Selina asked, still playfully swishing her whip across the roof. “You’re so certain you’re right, even after months, even in the face of all evidence. Honestly you’re just like the Fentons. I know you’ve looked into them, think about that the next time you want to have me submit to your battery of tests.” 

Bruce tried to keep his emotions locked down, but Danny could see the micro expression even with the heavy cowl. The small twitch would have been a full flinch in a lesser man. Danny’s scowl deepened as he realized just how similar he was to the Fentons. He just hoped this time wouldn’t end with him strapped to a table. 

“Selina-” 

His voice had softened, but Danny saw his mom move her arm to the side, the signal they had agreed on. He grabbed her, passing his flight and intangibility to her as he allowed his invisibility to roll back enough to reveal his grinning mask. Bruce stiffened, his lips tightening in fury. He reached for some tool from his belt, but Danny wasn’t going to stay around to see what it was. He lifted his mom effortlessly from the roof, and let himself giggle as he rocked his head side to side as his invisibility rolled over him until just his smile was visible, before vanishing completely. 

He flew with his mom in his arms, finding themselves on the other side of Gotham close to Selina’s old penthouse. He set her down and pulled his invisibility back so they both appeared out of thin air. He knew the rictus grin on his mask and the cat’s eyes on his goggles were glowing brightly as his core flared in delight. 

“Amazing job, Chess.” Selina said fondly, pulling him to a hug before she pushed his cowl back so she could kiss his head. Danny held her tightly and let his core purr wildly to show his delight. She pulled back her own cowl, revealing her face and her tight black curls. She looked him over closely to make sure he was uninjured. “Cheshire, you and I are a team made in thief heaven. I look forward to watching your perspective as you went in.”

Danny smiled widely, and pulled his own goggles over his head, and lowered his mask. 

“It was great! I even made that trick shot I was practicing, brought the whole rack down onto his stupid fake vintage cars. Of course if they were real, they would basically shrug it off, but they crumpled! Ruined his whole collection.” 

Danny had started floating as he laughed through his retelling. He transformed with a thought, his ghost form matching his Cheshire costume more and more as the months went by. His tail whipped back and forth through the air as he excitedly paced back and forth above the roof they were on. 

“Danny…” He paused at the solemn tone in his mom’s voice. She had a sad tilt to her eyebrows that he had noticed she had occasionally when she looked at him in his ghost form. 

“Y-yeah?” His voice cracked a little, he was more trepidatious than he wanted to admit. 

“Danny, would you like a grave?” Selina asked. 

He felt like the word thundered through his head, and he found himself landing on the roof next to his mom, his mouth open.

[helpallthenamesaretakenblog]

hi so this is a bit of a rant because I had a lot on my mind and needed to get it out, don't mind me, I might have gone little mad in this. warning: probably an unpopular opinion

ok now that you're here.

why are the logical behind pre-tlo jealous!percy fics so despicable? like seriously. this is a sentiment ive seen from lot of percabeth fans, and I hate it so much.

so a lot of posts I've seen about this are like "why did percy have to have love interests ? annabeth needs a side man too to make it equal" ok first of all, why is there some weighing scale in all of this? it's not a court situation where we need to judge which side committed more crimes.

having a 'side man' for annabeth completely disrespects the feelings she was going through in the period of botl-tlo. I think most people forget that rachel wasn't her only problem during that time. luke, her older brother figure from 7 years old had been possessed by the soul of kronos. OF COURSE she would be emotionally unavailable due to her grief. at the end of botl, percy describes that SHE never came and talked to him either about the kiss or whatever. it was a mutual silent treatment. percy couldnt have confessed to annabeth even if he tried, because it was obviously a bad time for her duh. they rlly expect percy to be like "annabeth😍 I know you're going through major grief right now ❤️ but pls kiss me" the same way annabeth found it hard to confess to percy because of rachel and whatever.

people think it's really funny to write fics about annabeth flirting with someone like connor during times like when percy got exploded by the volcano. "percy was doing things with Calypso too--" HE WAS HEALING. He had to stay there for some time to heal after getting EXPLODED. he was also tempted with paradise. stuff like that isn't a decision to make in a second. having annabeth have fun with other boys with connor or smthn while she thinks percy is dead is such a disrespect to her love for percy, I wonder how people like that are percabeth fans at all. same goes for fics where annabeth does it ON PURPOSE to make percy mad.

problem with these type of fics is that they're so PETTY. "If i was annabeth I would have made percy beg on his knees" "if I was annabeth I would murder him--" BUT YOURE NOT ANNABETH. annabeth chase LOVED percy jackson and would never do something on purpose to hurt percy or annoy him. she's not vicious like you.

also percy wasn't falling all over rachel and calypso. he treated them as he would treat any other best friend and kept his distance romantically, even though it was clear he might have had a crush. making annabeth purposefully flirt with other guys or accept other guys advances doesn't equal the weighing scale, it makes it even more unequal.

look, I'm not saying annabeth can't have any love interest other than percy. she CAN find other men attractive. she CAN have interest in other men. you can write that all you want. I'm just saying it was never something so necessary and the logic behind it is so petty. and her weaponising it because of her jealousy towards rachel is just so not something she would ever do.

also, just a short note before this ends: i actually like some jealous!percy fics. some are good. it's just some people get really worked up about the fact that annabeth NEEDS a love interest to get back at percy. that's who I'm mad about. if you've written a jealous!percy fic, cool!

[entities-of-posts]

Hi, I have a question not directly tied to the roleplay (though I don't mind if you answer it in that direction): A while ago, you talked about your theory of a potential 16th Fear emerging to balance the emerging Extinction: the Dull. I find that concept compelling, but in that post you also said that each of the powers has an "opposite" due to how people like to categorise things and I'd be curious what you would consider the opposite of each power. (Mostly because I like lists and sorting things xD)

Some do have a pretty clear opposite (Vast/Buried, Lonely/Corruption), but with a lot of the others it's less immediately obvious or simply up to a bit more interpretation. iirc Elias says the Stranger is the antithesis to the Eye, but the Dark and the Spiral similarly foil its central concepts, and I'm not sure what else their opposites would be, really.

Let me just preface this list by saying that this is my own opinion and interpretation, and thus 100% right and correct and indisputable.

I will also say that there are Fears which I would call near opposites, but imperfect mirrors - such as the Stranger and the Eye - and some that just seem to hate each other without being antithesis - such as the Desolation and the Corruption. It’s also worth mentioning that overlap always exist between mirrors, of course; this is why there is a classic duality between the moon and the sun, but no one talks about the duality between the moon and a giraffe, even though they have much less in common.

That said, here is my list:

The Vast - The Buried: the most widely agreed upon. Spaces too large versus too small. The terrible freedom of being adrift in an endless ocean, of freefall, versus being crushed in place with not the space to crawl an inch. You get it. The comparison is so clear and easy that it kickstarts the speculation about all the others.

The Eye - the Dark: extremely straightforward; just as much as the Vast and the Buried, to me. Knowledge versus the lack of it. Stark light versus impenetrable darkness. What sees you versus what you cannot see. Literally symbolized respectively by an open eye and a closed one.

The Corruption - the Lonely: Toxic love versus miserable isolation. An overabundance of company, much too close, under your very skin, a swarm of uninvited guests within your deepest sanctuary who will not leave, versus a life so barren of any company at all that that you might almost start to crave the former. The heat of fever versus the cold of fog.

The Web - the Desolation: careful planning versus reckless destruction. A trap so intricately laid, hundreds of delicate moving pieces and redundancy measures waiting for just the right time… so easily laid to waste by an unthinking, spontaneous act of cruel hunger for rubbles. Man’s quest, since the dawn of time, has been to tame and leash fire. And we still haven’t mastered it.

The Hunt - the End: a wild fight for life versus its cold ending. The journey versus the destination. The two oldest fears. The Chase wants more than anything to never End. The End doesn’t Chase; it just waits. And you’re the one that walks towards it every instant.

The Stranger - the Slaughter: here is the part of the list where people start to look at me oddly, because they’ve often never considered those pairings; but hear me out, and remember that I am inarguably correct. The fear of something Else pretending to be human versus the fear of what truly lies at the core of every human person. The fear of being tricked by an elaborate disguise versus the intimate knowledge of the truth: that those who hurt others aren’t monsters disguised as people. They’re just people. And the urge is in you too. Masks, versus what is revealed when all masks are cast off. And they both have musical motifs which makes for some fun parallels.

The Spiral - the Flesh: the horror of the mind versus the horror of the body. Unreality versus a reality only too physical, only too inescapable. Your brain is lying to you, but your body keeps the score. Follow the patterns, the Spiral says, there is more, they are lying to you, just follow me down - this is all there is, the Flesh whispers, this is the raw and dripping truth, this is all you are and you will never escape it. The Distortion even admits it can’t digest an avatar of the Flesh.

[writingquestionsanswered]

How do I decide on a setting for my story? I've come up with a character conflict but not sure what kind of setting it would fit. I also still have holes in the conflict, like how it happened, who the character actually is and how their life is. Any tips on how to approach all of this? How to make it all connect?

Guide: Finding a Setting to Go with Conflict

A Word About Conflict

When talking about plot, "conflict" refers to a problem that must be resolved. More specifically, it's a problem that must be resolved by your character, but there are obstacles they must overcome along the way.

There are two types of conflict in plot: internal and external.

Internal conflict refers to a problem within the character's heart and mind. Some examples would be an inability to trust others, lacking a sense of belonging, or shouldering an unnecessary burden of guilt.

External conflict refers to a problem in the characters situation, life, or world. Some examples would be a murder mystery, a natural disaster, or trying to find a buried treasure.

Plots can be "character-driven," meaning they are driven entirely by internal conflict, "plot-driven," meaning they are driven entirely by external conflict, or they can be both. Many stories these days are both, meaning that the characters are driven partly by internal conflict (and a need for change) while they tackle the external conflict.

How to Figure Out a Setting

1 - Examine the conflict for clues. Some conflict ideas are really general like "I want my character to solve a murder mystery." Well, that could be set pretty much anywhere. Other conflict ideas are more specific, like, "I want my character to learn to trust again after a contentious divorce." That's probably going to be a more contemporary story, so you would be looking at a more modern, real world setting.

2 - What settings appeal to you? If you're looking at a more general conflict that doesn't have requirements related to time or place, look instead at the settings that interest you the most. Do you want to write a story set in Victorian England? Or maybe the Wild West? Or maybe far-future on a space station near Mars? When the sky's the limit, you can afford to indulge your interests.

3 - What genres are you most familiar with? If you still find yourself unsure, consider the settings of genres you're most familiar with. For example, if you read a lot of YA fantasy, you have a pretty good grasp on imaginary magical worlds, to that might be a setting you consider.

4 - Develop your character further. Although setting often informs character, it's also okay to flesh out the character first and see where that leads you. Sometimes a setting becomes apparent just based on the needs of your character or what you imagine for them.

5 - Use a setting generator. If all else fails, there are quite a few great setting generators that will help you come up with a setting. You can also try a random place/location generator.

6 - Where have you always wanted to go? If someone handed you a crystal and said, "You can use this to travel to any time and place, real or imaginary," where would you choose to go? Might that be a fun setting to try for your story?

Stay tuned for part two where I tackle the other part of your question!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[theragethatisdesire]

perzītsos - bakugou katsuki x afab!reader, 18+!!

uh....surprise! i really love asoiaf, and i've seen so many posts about barbarian!katsuki, but i wasn't really successful in writing him, so here's my take on a fantasy au with katsuki. this takes place pre-fire and blood, really in the "medieval" days of the targaryen dynasty, with a targaryen heir!reader. i took some creative liberties with targaryen marriage customs, but i think they're sorta fun.

this is a beast of a one-shot, but there's lots of lore preceding this (do i smell a prequel?), including that reader asked for katsuki's hand in marriage, and neither of them were really expecting to wind up in a marriage bed together. i normally don't write virginity loss, but i made an exception for these two, i really do love them!!! fair warning, there's lots of high valyrian in here, which i don't speak fluently either, so i'm going to add some translations at the end :)

"perzītsos" - "little flame"

enjoy <3

pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader

wc: 13.5k (told ya it's a beast)

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. if you are a minor, please do not read below the cut. bakugou is roughly twenty-eight in this fic.

cws: virginity loss, aged-up characters, fingering, oral sex (fem!receiving, male!receiving mentioned), reader has female anatomy, smut, pretentious amounts of high valyrian pet names

𖤓

Leaving the raucous merriment of the great hall behind, its stone walls bursting at the seams with the raunchy, jeering calls of Bakugou’s soldiers and the titters of the ladies of the court, only seems to emphasize the echoing silence of your chambers. The servants had completed the arduous job of transferring your things into your new apartments today; you recognize the tapestries that had decorated your walls since you were a child, now dwarfed by the massive dimensions of your new quarters, and the candelabra you’d been gifted by a nobleman at your seventh name day sits upon a newly constructed ebony desk.

Nearly every hard surface in the room—desks, tables, even small areas of the floor—has been covered in the fat, yellow beeswax candles crafted in the kitchens many stories below your feet, flames dancing and casting shadows this way and that over the stone walls. Many a night have you forgone sleep in favor of losing yourself in the waltz of a small fire on a wick, the sometimes-frantic, sometimes-untroubled rhythm of the flame in the breeze of an open window. Tonight, though, not even the hundreds of flames, these little extensions of the hot, ancient blood that flows through your veins, can distract you from your fate.

“I remember these rooms,” you say offhandedly, bringing one hand to the fine curtains that hang around the tapestry bed, “they were my mother’s.”

Bakugou stays stock still where he stands, letting you examine the marriage bed. The wood was brought into these chambers several weeks ago, alongside a handful of master carpenters. The bed is enormous, easily large enough for three people to get a full night’s sleep without touching each other. It had been built inside of the room so that the intended dimensions could be fulfilled without the worry of actually fitting it through the door, which it would not. The sight of it makes an apprehensive shiver rock through your frame.

“You were born here,” Bakugou says gruffly, catching you by surprise. “I remember.”

You turn to face him, eyebrows raised cautiously at his decision to speak. Considering what lies before you both, the breach in his silence is appreciated, if unexpected. He’s hardly said two words to you all night; two words besides the lengthy wedding vows you’d exchanged before gods and men alike, speaking them practically into each other’s mouths in the purring, labyrinthine cadence of the Old Tongue. The metallic taste of his blood, brushed onto your tongue by his own thumb, is still nestled between your teeth, worryingly permanent.

“You remember?”

“Hardly.” Bakugou diverts his gaze from you to where your marriage bed lies, squinting his eyes as if he’s trying to remember what it had looked like more than twenty years past. “I was three.”

It shouldn’t be as much of a surprise as it is, given that you’d practically been raised alongside Bakugou, taken your first steps, tasted your first victories, had your first stumbles under his watchful crimson gaze. The required distance had been there, as you’d always been more of an heir than a little girl, and Bakugou had been busy with his training anyhow, but he was a steadfast part of your memories, even if he had been mostly in the blurry peripherals until the most recent years. This confession, that he had stood in the same room as your howling, bloodied form had been brought into the world, makes you feel more exposed than you already do in your thin gown.

Bakugou must take notice of how your shoulders unintentionally tense up, because his lips pull into a small frown, not one of anger, but seemingly guilt. You sigh, rolling your shoulders back and squaring yourself to face him, trying not to let your cheeks burn hot as your nipples peak under the singular layer of fabric hiding the finer details of your body from him. He’s intimidating, and both of you know it, but considering that you’re the reason you two find yourselves in this room, you think that maybe you should be the one to guide him along.

Bakugou approaches you slowly, making a noticeable effort to dull down the soldier’s swagger he normally walks with, holding your gaze with what you surmise is his best attempt to look open and mild-tempered. You notice how he pointedly avoids looking at your body, how it’s silhouetted by the candlelight and showing itself as a dark, shapely shadow in the white fabric of your gown. He’s close enough to touch now, toes only inches from yours. You’re reminded of how close you stood during the ceremony, how he had sworn to give his life for you, to you. Ānogar ānograro.

“They’re waiting,” you say quietly, eyes darting to the four servants in each corner of the room. Bakugou follows your gaze, and his frown grows deeper.

“May I speak freely?” It’s a laughable question coming from him, but it’s a kindhearted gesture, so you bite into your lip and nod your acquiesce.

“You’re my husband,” you say, trying not to feel discouraged at the pink tinge that rises to his cheeks, “I always want you to speak freely.”

Through a stiff nod of understanding, Bakugou lets a deep breath exhale through his nose before pinning you in place with a scrutinizing gaze. “Have you been…kissed, before?”

“Of course I have, Bakugou.” You can’t hide the breathless chuckle that comes fluttering from your lips, the dangerous hint of a relieved smile that begins to carve into your cheeks.

“Katsuki,” he says, the corner of his own mouth curling when his simple request for familiarity wipes the glimmer of smugness straight away from your face. “Your husband, remember?”

“Katsuki,” you repeat, letting the letters make a home for themselves on your tongue. Something flashes in his eyes, and he clears his throat. You can’t make out the shape of what’s flickered across his face, but you can feel the heat thrumming from his eyes to yours.

“What else?”

“What do you mean?” Your nose wrinkles in confusion, entirely lost on what point he’s trying to make. Katsuki narrows his eyes, clears his throat uncomfortably.

“What else do you have…experience with?”

Oh. He wants to know if you’ve been touched, where you’ve been touched, possibly even by whom. It’s your turn to shuffle your bare feet on the cold stone floor, to look solidly ahead at the v in the collar of his loose tunic, the slope of his neck, anywhere but his eyes. Your stomach begins to roil at the implication of this, of baring yourself to him wholly. It won’t be the first time you do it tonight, and certainly not the last.

“I’ve– um, done most things.” You somehow summon the courage to meet his gaze again, staring up defiantly. “I hope that’s not a disappointment to you.”

“You had no obligation to me before today.” Katsuki shakes his head, as if to dispel the very notion that you even have something to refuse to apologize for. It brings a spark of warmth to your heart, a hum of satisfaction pulsing through you that you’d chosen your husband well, at least in this regard. “But you are a virgin?”

You can’t control the way your eyes go wide, blinking hurriedly at him when he asks the question. Your fingertips grow hot, and you aren’t sure which potential answer would be the least mortifying, so you opt to stick with the truth.

“Yes,” you say, so lowly it’s near a whisper, “I’m a virgin.”

Katsuki swears quietly in the Old Tongue, and though you’re more focused on your feet than his face, you can see the awkward repositioning of his feet, how his hands clench and unclench at your confession. He’s your husband, you scold yourself, you have no need for fear. You jerk your head up to look unflinchingly at his face, unapologetic in your stance. Despite the way he had voiced his indifference to your prior experiences, you can see some strange mixture of relief, nerves, and that same undefinable heat rising to his face, coloring his features and darkening his eyes.

His eyes run over your consummation gown, long, loose, and traditional as they come, lovingly hand-stitched by your longest serving lady-in-waiting. Your handmaidens had taken the liberty of freshening you up after the feast, scrubbing most of the heavy, ash-black ceremony makeup from the bridge of your nose, wiping the kohl from your eyes until you were bare. Your elaborate wedding hairstyle had been let down and reworked into a long, singular braid down your back, loosely secured by a knot of cowhide. That, amongst other things, is for him, and only him.

“After this,” Katsuki wets his lips with his tongue, “we won’t share a bed again–”

“Katsuki–”

“Not until you’re ready,” he amends. His fingers twitch by his sides, a boyish gesture for a man of his massive stature.

“I’m your wife,” you say, puzzled and looking up at him, “I may be a virgin now, but I’m no stranger to what that entails.”

A heavy breath shakes through Katsuki’s frame, and his brows knit together in an expression of comfortingly familiar exasperation. You almost want to smile back at him.

“I expected as much,” he says, one hand reaching forward ever so slowly to brush tentatively through your fingers dangling at your side, to pinch at the thin fabric of your gown and rub it between his fingers, “but that’s a matter for the morning.”

You catch the implication in his tone, in the way he’s holding the sheet separating you from him. There’s something to be taken care of. Your palms turn clammy, fingers beginning to tremble by your sides. It takes everything in you to set your jaw and look up at him, shoulders rolled back and expression carefully schooled into something that you can only pray approaches a warm neutrality.

“Would you like to take it off?” Your eyes flit from your gown to his face.

Katsuki considers you, dragging his eyes over your frame at an agonizingly slow rate, still maddeningly rubbing that fabric between his fingers. Suddenly, his face crumples into a scowl.

“You’re shaking,” he says matter-of-factly. Your cheeks warm, wishing he wouldn’t have brought it up. “Are you nervous?”

“Not of you,” you answer him truthfully, willing the tension in your spine to melt into pleasurable anticipation. Katsuki catches your meaning instantly, the concern in his eyes glittering into something more akin to the anger that settles so comfortably into the frown lines on his face, that strikes his sharp features so suddenly and beautifully you almost gasp.

“Turn around,” he barks suddenly, his posture straightening into that of the formidable general you’ve known him as all your life, not the surprisingly gentle husband he’s shown himself to be in the last few minutes. You start in his arms, beginning to spin on your heels to follow his command when his hands catch you by the shoulders, an apology writing its way into the fine features of his face.

“But you said–”

“Them.” Katsuki jerks his head towards the servants posted in each corner who are, miraculously, turned away from the two of you, heads down and poised towards the corner. You look up to Katsuki in amazement, and his eyes soften. “I wouldn’t speak to you that way.”

“Oh.” It’s light and not enough when it falls from your mouth, and you want to apologize, but Katsuki’s already loosening his grip on your shoulders, urging you to spin.

“Now you,” he says gently, “turn around.”

Too stunned by the duality of him to argue, the whetted and wartorn angles of him contrasting with this unbearable softness, you turn your back to him, urging yourself to relax under the weight of his hands. Katsuki’s hands subtly squeeze your shoulders, as if to warn you of their departure, and the next time you feel his touch, it’s on the end of your long braid, his scarred fingers fumbling with the cowhide tie.

You hold your breath as you feel the tension along your scalp go slack; he’s gotten the tie off of your braid. Katsuki’s fingers begin to methodically comb through your long hair, starting at the bottom and working his way up, deftly avoiding knots and keeping the lightly-oiled strands from tangling themselves as he undoes your braid. He’s surprisingly good at it, and an unexpected pang of pain accompanies your curious thought as to whether he’s had much practice undoing a woman’s hair, something so sacred. Before you can ruminate on the hurt beginning to come to a simmer in your chest, Katsuki’s spinning you back around, causing the calming perfume of your hair oil to cloud around your head as your hair fans out. It centers you, gives you the wherewithal to look up into his eyes.

Katsuki’s face is candid, beautifully so, in the way he regards you. Crimson eyes dart over every feature you have to offer him, now so wild and unbidden compared to your usual state of being, and he reaches a tentative hand towards your hair, before flinching and pulling back. You shake your head, bringing a hand out to catch his and pull it back towards the part of you he so clearly wants to touch before you can think better of it. Katsuki’s eyes widen, only momentarily, before his face settles into an expression of quiet approval, and he runs his fingers through your hair again, less purposeful this time and more for the simple pleasure of memorizing the feel of you under his hands. You blink up at him, waiting.

“Gevie,” he mumbles under his breath, watching how his fingers card through your unruly hair. He mistakenly brushes your nipple, still peaked under your consummation gown, and realizes what he’s done when you gasp lightly. 

“It’s okay,” you say hurriedly, surprising yourself when you realize that you mean it. Your back has already begun to arch unwittingly towards him, as if your body has accepted him as your husband while your mind is still trying to wrap itself around the idea. “Touch me.”

You can see the thought cross Katsuki’s face before he even reaches for your gown, pinching it at the hips on either side of you.

“Do you want to take it off, or would you like me to?” Katsuki says, hardly louder than a whisper. You blink, still trying to marry this man with the outspoken, ruthless general you’d invited to the altar with you.

“Traditionally, the man–”

“I know,” Katsuki says, a bit of an agonized bite behind his words. You bite your lip, worried that you’ve finally overstepped, but he sighs, heavy and surrendered. “I know what happens traditionally. I don’t care. We’re doing this on your terms.”

“My terms,” you repeat slowly, trying to gather his meaning.

“Yes,” Katsuki affirms, “your terms. Now, do you want to take your gown off, or do you want me to?”

You want to run to the washroom to realign your expectations, is what you want to do. This is supposed to be quick, you remember your handmaidens preparing you with monstrous stories of being unceremoniously bent over the bed, gown ripped to shreds or simply shoved above your hips instead of carefully pulled between a considerate thumb and finger. You study him, study that freshly sincere affection on his face, his willingness to bring you through this unscathed and…dare you say it, satisfied. Your hand, which, so lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t even noticed drifting, comes up to cup his sharp jaw, plush palm giving against the angle of his face.

“I want you to,” you say, nodding when his eyebrows raise in surprise. “I want you to take it off of me, please.”

Katsuki only answers you with a curt nod of his own, schooling his momentarily bewildered expression back into one of careful concentration, more for your benefit than his, you think. You can feel a slight tremor in his hands when he brings them to the strings that suffice for your gown’s sleeves, little more than strips of fabric tied in loose bows over your shoulder. Despite the painstakingly beautiful embroidery in the stiff linen, curling flames and stars rising from the hem of your gown, everything else about the design of the garment reveals its purpose: to be removed.

You hold your breath while he works at the tied strings, partly because you feel like you should and partly because the slightest brush of his fingers over your skin feels so climactic that you feel that it should make a sound, maybe that of pottery breaking or lightning clapping across a dark sky. It’s silent, the slip of the linen through itself, three cautious pulls and your gown is sagging on one side, the collar falling until your nipple is almost exposed. You gulp and try to look up to Katsuki, but his jaw is set, even grinding a bit in concentration as he keeps his gaze centered firmly on the bow he’s set upon on your right shoulder. You study him, looking for any indication that he’s anxious, or pleased, or disinterested, but he’s an unreadable mask of focus as his large fingers tug on the bow. It slides loose as easily as the first one had, and your gown slips from your body and crumples around your feet on the floor.

Katsuki sucks in a sharp inhale, forced to take in the sight of your naked body now that he’s finished his task. You watch intently as his eyes drag over every part of you, slow and savory, nostrils flaring and pupils dilating. You’re so exhilarated by his wild eyes taking you in, you almost forget to be insecure, to be nervous. This is something you might grow to enjoy, you think; Katsuki’s carefully concealed appetite.

“Am I alright?” You feel your mouth form the words, hear them float into the charged air. You don’t think you meant to ask, but once it’s out, you’re glad you did. It may be a politically-made marriage bed, but as fate would have it, your crown sits upon the head of a young woman, a young woman looking into the eyes of the man that would have her for his own, wanting to be thought of as a thing to be admired. Katsuki’s eyes flicker back to yours, and his brows knit together.

“Alright?” Katsuki’s eyes leave yours once more, and he meets his own gaze with a bold hand on your hip, thumb rubbing circles over your hipbone. “You’re more than alright, but you already know that.”

You feel so small, so silly when you tell him: “I was hoping you’d be the one to remind me.”

Katsuki understands then, meets your fixed look upon his face and lets that molten desire cool into something more digestible, easier to hold, and then he speaks. “Iksā gevie, ñuha ābrazȳrys.”

When you’d learned the Old Tongue as a child, you’d been taught to purr the sounds, to run them together like the slow, controlled flow of ink from the end of a feather. You learned to curl the consonants behind your teeth and let them breathe the same air for a beat, to birth the sounds into the world off of your tongue instead of simply pushing the air out. But when Katsuki speaks the Old Tongue it’s…a growl, forceful and quaking with restrained power. Raw and godlike, the words sound like they were written with his low rasp in mind.

Wife. His beautiful wife. Your breath hitches in your throat at the same time as a vicious swell of desire rips through you, mouth beginning to hang ajar. Katsuki frowns slightly, tilts his head.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“Take me, then,” you say, breathless from your own courage. Katsuki’s eyes widen, and if you could see clearly through your own sudden lust, you’d see the corner of his mouth twitching. “Make me your wife.”

“I will,” Katsuki comes closer, speaking not smugly, but matter-of-factly. He slides one hand around your waist, thumbs at your chin with the other. “But there’s an order to these things.”

No sooner have you opened your mouth to protest Katsuki’s condescension than he’s closing the wide gap between his height and your plush, open lips, pressing his mouth to yours, and your mind goes quiet. You’ve been kissed upwards of a dozen times at this point, something you were proud to remind your ladies-in-waiting of this morning while they giggled and squealed about your big night with the general. A few princes, a handful of noblemen’s sons, the expected suspects. All your ladies had said in return was “Those are boys. The general is a man. You’ll see the difference.”

There’s nothing demanding or unkind in the way his fingers are pressing into the plush curve of your hip, but it’s firm, steady in a way you’ve never dreamed about being held. His hand spreads across your jawline, keeping you tilted up and open for him to move his mouth against. There’s none of the hurried pecking, no errant tongue forcing its way between your teeth before you can even offer– Katsuki’s a man. You understand now, understand your handmaidens’ flushed cheeks and the way they fanned themselves theorizing about whether your new husband was as ruthless in bed as he was on the battlefield. Katsuki makes a fire catch behind your ribs, a desperate urge to impress, to keep your now horrifyingly-apparent lack of experience under wraps.

You bring a hand to the back of his neck, willing yourself not to tremble, and card your fingers through the close-cropped hair, smiling when Katsuki’s lips stutter against your own. His grip on you tightens, one big hand slipping to the nape of your neck and pulling you flush against him. His tongue slips into your mouth, tasting like ceremonial wine and something mannish and mature; you’re hardly able to swallow the gasp that threatens to reveal how the pit of your stomach is beginning to curl in on itself. Your breasts are pressed tight against his chest, only separated from his skin by his linen tunic. The fabric kisses your sensitive nipples, brushing against the untouched skin, and despite yourself, you whimper pathetically into his waiting mouth, cheeks warming.

Katsuki pulls back, to your disappointment, and you begin to chew at your lip, frantically thinking through the last several minutes to wonder what you’ve done wrong. Had you been too forward, touching him back so quickly? Your fretting dies down quickly when you see that Katsuki’s only stepped back to finger the hem of his tunic, ripping it over his head. You only have a moment to catch a blurry flash of honed muscle and scarred skin before he’s back on you, calloused hands wrapping around your hips. It only takes a few moments of him kissing you, of your fingers dragging absentmindedly up his veiny forearm, before you ask him for what you want, palms pressed flat against his chest and pushing lightly.

His brows knit together, and his eyes flicker over your face, searching for any sign of discomfort. You take a deep inhale, hoping to hide how rapidly you’ve lost your breath to him, steeling yourself to look him in the eye.

“I want to see you.”

Katsuki’s face screws up almost comically, and he tilts his head.

“See me?”

“See you.”

You take a step back, keeping your hands on his arms, holding him just where you want him and– is it a sight. He’s sharper than you would have imagined, deep grooves carving into his skin where his muscles bulge beneath it. You suck in a sharp breath as you let your eyes move slowly from his hardened stomach to his broad chest, little nicks dotting his skin where a stray swordtip had punctured armor, and a particularly nasty gash cutting across his front, stretching from his shoulder to his ribcage. It looks like it should have been fatal. Katsuki crosses his arms over his chest, maybe in an attempt to stop you from ogling him like you are, but it’s counterproductive; all he’s done is give you a golden opportunity to watch the skin of his arms stretch to accommodate the way his biceps swell and shrink with the movement, the twitching and flexing of each individual muscle laid bare for you to see clearly.

When your gaze finally returns to his face, you almost want to snort at his expression: pink cheeks, a scrunched nose, and eyebrows lifted to indicate just how entirely unimpressed he is with your drooling.

“Done ‘seeing’ me?” Katsuki asks, mouth lifting in just the smallest hint at a smile. Your heart flutters lightly in your chest; it’s the first attempt either of you have made at humor since your betrothal, and it’s hugely relieving to have something to smile about.

“It was only fair that I take my turn,” you say, gesturing down at your bare skin. Katsuki’s lips lift a little more until his gaze lowers; his eyes darken as he lets himself take you in. You can see the same thought crossing his mind just as it occurs to you: you belong to each other now, every bit of skin, muscle, heart that you’re bearing to each other isn’t just your own anymore. That scrunch in his nose, the scar across his chest, the way he narrows his eyes to study you. It all belongs to you now.

Katsuki steps forward, letting his hand interlace with yours, fingers hanging in the spaces between your own.

“Are you ready?” His question is no more than a puff of air against your forehead, both of you mercifully standing so close that you aren’t forced to look in his eyes when he asks.

“Yes.” Your voice shakes despite your attempt to be resolute in your answer, and you tighten your fingers around his in apology. It’s all new.

Katsuki kisses you again, slower and warmer than last time. It’s not desperate or hurried, but it is sensual, a promise of what awaits you when he lays you down on your bed. You sigh into his mouth, growing comfortable now with the feel of him on you; so comfortable, even, that you don’t notice he’s been backing you up until your back hits the poster of the bed, effectively pinning you between the hard, ebony wood, and Katsuki’s strong chest.

Your confinement does something to him. It’s immeasurably minute, the way his breath seems to puff out a bit heavier, the sudden jerk of his fingers into your hips, but it’s there.

“When you said you had experience…” Katsuki says, voice gravelly and dangerously close to a pant, “what did you mean by that?”

“I–” you pause, swallowing thickly around the growing lump in your throat, “I’ve been kissed, and I’ve…been touched.” You settle on that, hoping he grasps what you’re suddenly too shy to say.

“Did he make you cum?” He asks it so quietly, you almost wonder if you’ve heard him correctly, but you do hear him, and your chest caves in on itself as the breath leaves your lungs. You’ve snickered over such things with trusted girl friends, your ladies in waiting, but to hear it so gruffly, from the lips of a man—your new husband, no less—is a shock to your system.

“I think so,” you murmur, hardly able to form the words. You can’t see him, his head hunched over your shoulder and his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear, but you can practically feel him frown.

“If he had, you would know so.” Katsuki presses a soft kiss on the cartilage of your ear, travels down to bring your earlobe between his lips. He moves farther down, kissing gently down the slope of your neck, so slowly as if not to scare you.

“How would I know?” You can’t believe you’ve even dared to ask the question, not entirely sure you’ve prepared yourself well enough to hear his answer. Katsuki sucks in a sharp breath against your collarbone, pausing his ministrations where he’d begun to lick and suckle at the prominent angle of it. Your face warms as you realize how deeply his faint touches have begun to affect you, how your chest is beginning to swell and sink with heavy breaths, how your skin tingles and sparks in anticipation of the next absentminded swipe of his knuckles, of the light pressure of his mouth.

“I can show you,” he whispers, and the world stops turning for a moment, “if you’d like.”

“Yes,” you breathe out before you can think better of yourself. You trust his hands, the steady way that they graze the curve of your hip and splay out against the small of your back. He’s stable and unwavering, keeping you afloat.

Katsuki nods against your shoulder, almost imperceptibly, and brings one of those strong hands up between your shoulderblades. He spreads his fingers out, forcing your back to arch for him, and brings his free hand up to your chest, pausing when he’s only a hair’s breadth from your breast. His eyes meet yours, a concentrated divot appearing between his eyebrows as he searches your face for any signs of discomfort. You arch into his touch, surprising even yourself with your boldness, and your jaw drops a bit at the sensation of his rough palms on your soft, supple breast.

Your eagerness spurs him to action, and he bends at the waist, scattering a litter of kisses across the top of your chest. You hold your breath as he dips lower, but your attempt to remain silent fails entirely when he closes his lips around your peaked nipple. A horribly broken whimper slips from your lips, and you squirm, though whether your body’s trying to push you into or away from the wet heat of his mouth you can’t tell.

Katsuki’s mouth stretches into a ghost of a smile around your flesh, or so you think, until his teeth graze your nipple properly and a quiet cry bursts from you. He smiles fully with your breast still between his teeth. His hand holds your back firmly in its bowed position as he moves to your other breast, twisting his tongue around your nipple there and kissing gently along the fat curve of the underside. He continues his descent, grazing his lips over your stomach, and you don’t realize he’s on his knees until he’s suckling softly on your hipbone, one hand now sprawled over your stomach. Katsuki rubs his thumb over the top of the thatch of hair between your legs, almost reverently, and it makes you regain your bearings, gulping.

“W-what are you doing?” You nearly cringe at the sound of your own voice, words syrupy and thick on your tongue.

Katsuki raises a cautious eyebrow, pulling back from the slight bruise he’s begun to place upon your hipbone. He’s still moving carefully, ghosting over where he wants to touch you as a warning before pressing his skin fully to yours, unwilling to spook you just yet, but something’s quickly changing in him. His jaw ticks as he considers you, looking down on where he kneels between your legs with wide eyes.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Katsuki asks back, looking genuinely confused. Your cheeks are aflame.

“You’re on your knees.” It sounds too simple as it leaves your mouth, an insult to your own intelligence, and you scowl in frustration, looking off to the side. The quiet chuckle between your legs snaps your attention back to Katsuki.

“I’m on my knees,” Katsuki agrees, leaning in and brushing his lips against your inner thigh, sending a full-body shudder racking through you, “for you. Do you…not like it?”

Your mind, foggy in the places you’re accustomed to using and glaringly sharp in useless departments like, for example, the way Katsuki’s eyes are glinting dangerously in the low light, struggles to find an answer for his question. You do like it, seeing this hulking, powerful man kneeling before you, tucking his chin up to the supple flesh of your thigh and blinking up at you curiously, but not for any reason that you can put your finger on.

“I didn’t say that,” you say carefully, willing your senses to come back to you. “I just…you look like you’re planning something.”

Another cutting half-smirk flashes across his face, gone as soon as it appears. “You’ve never been tasted before, have you?”

“Tasted?” You try to keep your face from showing your shock and confusion; surely he’s not about to do what you think he is. Katsuki hums an affirmative, placing another kiss to the clammy crease of your thigh and your cunt, a gasp ripping from your throat before you can stop it.

“Do you not want me to?” Katsuki tilts his head, expressionless. You try to find the answer to his question on his face, but he’s blank, leaving the decision entirely up to you. “It’ll help with the pain.”

The pain, that’s right. Soon, he would be taking you for his own, stretching your body in a new way that you’d heard the whispers about: bloody bedsheets, sore between the legs, pleading for the end. You chew into your bottom lip, considering your options.

“Do you want to?”

“I do,” Katsuki says, eyes dark and unreadable, “I want to make you feel good. But we’re doing this on–”

“My terms,” you finish for him, nodding, “I remember.”

“Good.” Katsuki nods, and you try desperately to ignore the heat that thrums through you. “So, if you don’t want it, I won’t. Simple as that.”

You think for a brief moment. Katsuki’s admitted to wanting something of you, of your body, perhaps for the first time since you’d gotten him wrapped up with you. You repeat his words over and over in your head, trying to make sense of them. I want to make you feel good.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Katsuki knits his brows.

“I want to try it,” you say, and add with a shaky exhale, “being tasted.”

If you’re not mistaken, Katsuki’s shoulders shiver between your legs, his eyes glazing over a little at your words. You feel pride ringing in your chest, seeing him uncoil, even if it’s only the slightest bit. You’d chosen correctly. Much as he did when you asked him to undress you, Katsuki nods tensely, and he moves deeper between your legs, nudging your knees apart for himself.

“It’ll feel good,” he murmurs quietly, picking up one of your legs and draping it over his shoulder, “but if you want me to stop, tell me, alright?”

You nod down at him, knowing that every bit of your nerves at being so exposed is showing all over your face. Katsuki flits his gaze down to your cunt, glistening in the candlelight and humiliatingly wet from his touch, and you can see him bite into the inside of his cheek, see his eyes flutter closed. Despite your embarrassment, you’re keen on watching, learning from him. Katsuki leans in, and his tongue slides between your wet folds, but even over your choked noise of surprise, one thing rings clear in your mind at the startling new sensation.

Katsuki groans, louder than you’ve ever heard, languid and gratified, face pressed so firmly into your center that you can already feel his shadow of stubble scratching the insides of your thighs. His hand, wrapped around the thigh over his shoulder, suddenly tightens, fingers digging into the meat of your leg much harder than he’s touched you yet. You focus on the muscles of his jaw, tensing and straining on the side of his face, while he licks into you like a man starved.

The way he eats you is such a deviation from his feather-light touches that you almost can’t believe it’s the same man, lewd noises echoing throughout the room as he suckles on something between your legs that you hadn’t even discovered properly for yourself, only swiping at it blindly in the darkest hours in your chambers. Your back curves viciously, breathy moans spilling from your lips, fingernails clawing into the ornately-carved posts of your marriage bed. Katsuki holds you tight against him, eyes hooded in bliss and mouth moving ceaselessly against you.

You’ve snuck a hand down between your legs before, rubbed shyly at the growing wetness, at the swollen skin, and experienced maybe a glimmer of the feeling that’s now glowing hot in the pit of your stomach. You would almost feel panicked at the spiraling, swooping sensation; that is, if you weren’t so wholly consumed by the white-hot pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Katsuki– I, it’s so– oh,” you trail off, losing your words as Katsuki establishes a rhythm of flicking his tongue between your legs right on that damned spot that you wish you’d known about before, maybe you could have prepared– “Oh, Katsuki, it’s– so good.”

Katsuki elicits a sound that’s closer to a snarl than anything else you can think of, tightening his iron grip into your skin. One of your hands absentmindedly fists in his hair, and before you can find the presence of mind to rip it away, he moans, openly and unashamedly, eyes screwing shut. He likes it, your foggy mind realizes, and you dig your fingers in harder, anchoring what’s left of you to the earth using the straight, sandy locks.

The heat, the sparks that are flying around every nerve ending in your body, begins to pick up an overwhelming speed, and all of the sudden, you feel like you need to kick out, to curl in on yourself, to scream so loud the windows blow out.

“Katsuki,” you say desperately, making watery, scared eyes at him. Katsuki’s brow furrows, and he only holds his pace, red eyes glaring into yours. You’re trying to warn him, but no words will form, and you can’t catch your breath, panting and clawing at his hair and almost sobbing until–

Everything peaks. A broken cry comes shooting out of your throat, your standing leg threatening to give out under you, and you writhe and twitch on Katsuki’s face, shamelessly surrendering to the most intense tidal wave of pleasure you’ve experienced in your life. From the fuzzy peripherals of your consciousness, you can hear Katsuki groaning encouragingly into your wet cunt, still dutifully moving his tongue against you and smearing the evidence of your arousal all over his cheeks. When the world comes back into focus, it’s dazzlingly harsh, your muscles weakening as soon as Katsuki’s face clears into its typical arrangement of sharp angles and hard lines.

“Oh–” you gasp, your one good knee finally buckling underneath you. Luckily, Katsuki has already begun to stand, and one of his strong arms darts out, catching you around the waist. You wish he wouldn’t look so smug.

“How do you feel?” Katsuki asks innocently enough, but even in the aftermath of that,  you don’t miss the twitching at the corner of his shining mouth, the expectant arch of his eyebrow.

“Good,” you pant, willing your cheeks to lose even a portion of their heat, “it was– fine.”

“Fine?” Katsuki’s eyebrow raises fully, disbelievingly.

“It was good,” you reaffirm, glaring at him. Katsuki grins brightly, the most light you think you’ve ever seen enter his face. It makes you blush almost as hard as the orgasm he dragged you through. Something wild and wicked flickers in your mind, and you look up at him curiously. “Do you…do you want me to do that to you?”

Katsuki’s smile drops as quickly as it came, and his cheekbones darken, a deep flush spreading over his face. You almost wonder if you’ve misstepped, upset him in some way, until you catch him palming over his pants. Your throat tightens.

“No,” he says, all the mirth drained from his face, “no, you don’t have to– no.”

“Alright,” you acquiesce, transferring your weight from Katsuki’s firm grip around your waist back to your feet, finding your legs weak and shaky beneath you. Your gaze floats over your shoulder, back to the plush sheets of your marriage bed, and Katsuki clears his throat, backing away a step so you have the room to climb into the bed, lay yourself down.

You’d expected to feel shyer, but there’s surprisingly no urge to curl in on yourself, not even Katsuki’s eyes take you in, darkening in the candlelight. The aftershocks of pleasure— white-hot, addictive pleasure he’d introduced you to— are still echoing through your limbs, and you’re just curious enough to bite back your initial trepidation. You want to know what else he has to teach you.

Katsuki begins tugging at the laces keeping his pants snug around his waist, loosening them and shooting you one final look, one last assurance. His eyebrow is cocked questioningly, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think he looks a little nervous. You nod, holding a breath deep enough in your lungs that it aches, and his pants hit the floor.

You’ve seen naked men, here and there, over the course of your life, and your ladies had described enough of the act before you that you can’t find yourself shocked at the sight, but more so at the wanton aching that ricochets through your limbs, chill bumps erupting over your arms and shoulders rolling of their own accord. You don’t have much to go by, but you’re fairly sure he’s big comparatively, so hard that the tip is an angry shade of red. Katsuki climbs over you before you have much chance to look further, but the damage is done; a fresh wave of arousal courses through you, and you widen your knees to let him situate himself.

“I’m going to get you ready,” Katsuki says between chaste kisses to your lips. “Is that alright?”

“But you already–,” you feel frustrated at your own inexperience, knitting your brow at him, “I’m ready.”

“You’re not,” Katsuki assures you, and before you can bite back another retort, his battle-scarred fingers are rubbing softly through the mess between your legs, and your jaw falls slack. Katsuki’s monitoring you for any signs of unease, eyes bright and focused on your face. You’re wet enough that he’s sliding through your folds easily, meeting little resistance as he rubs tight, concentrated circles into that spot that he’d used to make you see stars earlier. “Do you trust me?”

“Mhm.” It’s all you can manage to hum an affirmative, biting back the breathy noises trying to break free of your throat. It’s a wonder, how so little effort from him has your blood molten in your veins, limbs pliant and muscles twitching.

Katsuki’s fierce gaze doesn’t let up, but you understand why when you feel it: a finger, presumably, stretching you in a new, uncomfortable way. You’re unable to contain the gasp that bleats out of you, eyes flying wide, and Katsuki’s hand stills, eyes squinting as he tries to determine the nuances of your reaction. It’s novel, and admittedly, makes you a bit restless, but it isn’t unpleasant, and embarrassingly, your hips cant up into his hand, answering for you. Katsuki works slowly, never ceasing the small circles he’s rubbing into you, letting the discomfort align with the deliberate, savory pleasure that’s now ever-present in your core. When he begins to move his finger in and out of you, working you open, you realize it feels good, more than good, even.

“Alright?” Katsuki asks, distrusting of the whimpers and shaky moans beginning to fall from your lips. “Talk to me.”

“It’s strange,” you admit, words fragile and breathy in the space between your lips, “but I like it, it feels good. Really good.”

Katsuki hums approvingly, teases your entrance with the rough pad of a second finger. He arches his eyebrow at you, the question hanging silent, but clear between you. The prospect is daunting, but you welcome it; he’s already shown you so much, made you feel so much. You trust him, nodding eagerly.

“Please.”

Katsuki works his second finger in, grinding his jaw when you choke on a moan, rolling your hips into his palm. He nods, letting you wriggle your hips around as you need to, to ease the stretch of him inside of you. You can feel the power behind the lightness of his touch, eyes flitting down to the strained, corded muscle of his forearm as he pumps his fingers in and out of you. He’s holding back, and when you think wildly of what might happen the day he doesn’t have to anymore, your body clenches around him.

Katsuki pulls a face at you, amused. “What is it?”

“What?” You pant, feeling that knot begin to tie in on itself tighter and tighter behind your bellybutton.

“Y’liked something, thought of something,” Katsuki studies you, mouth quirking up into a little half-smile, “I could feel it.”

If you were any more present, you’d be mortified, but all you can do is reach a hand to stroke along the bulge of his bicep, dig your teeth into your bottom lip.

“Was thinking about you,” you admit shyly, trying to force your words to come out a little less broken than you know you sound, “you’re strong.”

“I am strong,” Katsuki agrees, curling his fingers against something inside of you that makes you jerk, makes him smirk at you.

“You’re holding back on me.”

“I am,” he says, placing a kiss to your shoulder, “you’re not ready for it. Need to go slow this time.”

“One day you won’t,” you say, mustering all the strength your hazy mind has to offer to look him squarely in the eye, watch his reaction. Katsuki inhales sharply, eyes widening at your boldness, only to narrow at you, predatory and curious. His fingers have stilled momentarily, and you pull your stomach muscles, jerking your hips up against his hand, frustrated. Katsuki only glares down at you, jaw ticking.

“One day I won’t,” he finally answers you, pulling his fingers from where you’re throbbing and needy. You almost whine, but bite into your lip before the admission of desperation flies from you. “If that’s what you want.”

You don’t have the chance to answer before Katsuki’s sucking his own fingers into his mouth, sucking you off of them. Your jaw stutters, and you gape at him as his eyelids flutter, a low groan rumbling in his strong chest.

“Taste good,” Katsuki says, as if it’s the most casual thing in the world, “sweet.”

“Can I try?” The question flies from your lips before you can even think to contain it, and your eyes grow even larger, shocked at your own debauchery. You’re seconds away from stuttering out an apology when Katsuki’s massive hand appears in front of your face, fingers glistening in the candlelight.

“Here.” Katsuki offers his fingers to you, eyes dark and hungry. You only stare at him for a moment, trying to discern if you’ve done something horribly wrong, but he’s completely sincere, brushing his wet fingers along your bottom lip. You open your mouth, suck him in. It’s more viscous than you would have imagined, sticky and thick on your tongue, but it’s pleasantly gamey; a little bitter, a little sweet. You don’t realize that you’re suckling on Katsuki’s fingers until he groans again, deep in his throat, gritting his teeth.

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, pulling his hand free from your lips.

“What’d you think?” Katsuki regains his composure quickly, tilting his head at you with something impish sparkling in his eye.

You’d chosen your new husband due to his unwavering dedication to the kingdom that he’d sworn his life to protect, his kingly attributes that had set him so far apart from your other, softer suitors. You hadn’t even thought to consider what other sides to him might be lurking beneath the formidable exterior of decorated general; could it be so that the red-cheeked, boyish creature above you, so intent on helping you explore your body, was the fierce warrior that had supposedly cut down over a hundred enemy soldiers entirely on his own?

“I liked it,” you say, biting into the smile starting to grow on your face. The way his eyes light up makes you feel like a vixen, like somehow, you can be a woman after all. “Everything is…it feels good.”

Something virile glints in Katsuki’s eyes, but you don’t shy away, holding his gaze. “Good.”

“I want to…I want you to have me. I want to have you.” You’re not even sure if you’re making sense, tongue heavy and useless in your mouth. Katsuki’s hand has wandered back down between your legs, rubbing lazily at the wetness there, and it’s got that steady heat creeping back through your limbs, setting your nerves on fire.

“You’re sure?” Katsuki asks, raising his eyebrow at you. All the mischief has drained from his face as he examines you, and while you appreciate his caution, the craving for something more is growing uncomfortable.

“Please,” you say, tilting your chin up to press your lips gently to his in reassurance. Katsuki is finally convinced, it seems, because he rolls off of you and settles his back against the headboard, reaching an errant arm over to tug you on top of him.

You hadn’t anticipated this; Katsuki’s set you right on top of his hips, your dripping cunt placed firmly against his hard cock, back ramrod straight from the sudden exposure, nipples peaked in the charged air. The feel of him pressing insistently against where your body needs him most makes your head spin; you hadn’t expected it to be so distinct, hard and thick beneath you.

“What are you–”

“It’ll be easier this way,” Katsuki says, looking very much like he’s putting all his effort into appearing unaffected, but only a moment ago, you felt his hips twitch upwards into yours, “you can control it.”

“I don’t– I don’t know how to do it. Not the right way, I mean.” You’re burning in your humiliation, hot in so many different ways now you aren’t sure if you could even count them, but you’re bared completely to him, and you figure your dignity was left somewhere crumpled on the floor with your consummation gown.

“Don’t worry about that,” Katsuki says sternly, looking so unbelievably flustered that if you were any less preoccupied, it would make you giggle, “not yet. You need to get used to having something inside you, first.”

Something inside you; him, thick and hard and drooling wetness onto his bellybutton. That’s right. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, doing everything in your power to ride the wave of exhilaration going through you. You roll your hips experimentally, once, twice, swallowing the gasp that aches to leave your jaw.

“Just like that,” Katsuki mumbles, so quietly you almost think you hadn’t heard him, “take your time.”

You take his advice, bracing your clammy hands on his neck. You grind down on him again, feeling sparks of pleasure shoot up your body. With each swipe of your hips, you can feel your cunt grow wetter, feel that bottomless want in your stomach open a little more. The growing hunger in you is primordial, some hidden part of your mind directing you. The urge to have something inside of you, to feel full in a way you can’t begin to imagine, is causing you to grow restless, fingers drumming anxiously on Katsuki’s shoulders. When you meet his eyes, a muscle feathers in his jaw, but he stays silent, hands placed gently on your hips as he watches you grow accustomed to his girth, the weight of him between your legs.

“I think I’m ready. Can I?”

Katsuki stays silent, only nods sagely in assent. His grip on your hips grows tighter as you lift yourself up, reaching down blindly to grip him. He sucks in a breath when your fingers wrap around the length of him, and your eyes flit to his in alarm, but he only shakes his head, brow furrowing.

“Go ahead.”

You nod back, wincing at the anticipatory trembling of your thighs on either side of his hips, pulling his cock up from his stomach. You rather like the smooth feel of the skin in your hands, and you think briefly that maybe this will be something to revisit later, having him needy and in the palm of your hand. The swollen head catches, and you almost gasp at the surprise of it, how a dull thud of satisfaction rings through your body. You inhale deeply, and begin to sink down.

Katsuki’s fingers dig into your hips even harder, but you hardly feel it over the incomparable stretch between your legs. You’re sure now that he’s big; he has to be, the way it feels like your very insides are moving to accommodate him. You’re trying not to huff at the feeling, but a whine escapes you, and Katsuki’s tight grip stops you just as you’re nearing the halfway point.

“Okay?” He’s tense, coiled like a snake, all the muscles in his strong body locked, but his eyes are concerned.

“Uh huh,” you manage, wiggling your hips around and dropping yourself down a couple more inches, making you both gasp, “s’just big.”

“Fuck,” Katsuki hisses, throwing his head back. You pause, body contracting around him in your attempt to take him wholly, only a short distance from the blonde hair at the base of his cock.

“Is everything alright?”

“Can’t say shit like that,” Katsuki grits out, voice hoarse. You realize with a slow, muggy blink that you haven’t yet heard him swear, not in the Common Tongue, haven’t yet seen him become so unraveled and yet, at the same time, so rigid. It’s affecting him, that instinctual part of your brain supplies, it feels good for him.

If you were any less dazed, you’d smile. Katsuki Bakugou, High Commander of the fiercest army the world has seen in over a century, famed warrior an ocean over, is practically twitching trying to bite back his own pleasure as you take him inside of you. The rush of adrenaline that thought sends through you gives you the motivation to let yourself go, nestling the entirety of him deep inside yourself and meeting his hips. You choke on a moan, eyes prickling with tears.

“Oh,” you pant, lifting yourself just a bit, trying to squirm away from the discomfort.

“Does it hurt?” Katsuki grunts, eyes running over every bit of your body.

“No, it’s just,” you keen again, interrupting yourself with breathy, whiny little noises, “full.”

Katuski makes a noise that you think was meant to be a hum of agreement, but only comes out as a growl. If the white in his knuckles and the sharp, tense bone of his jaw is anything to go by, his arousal is only barely being held back, restricted to a tight leash. You’re not his first, not the only wet warmth he’s buried himself in, and this isn’t at all the first time he’s experienced this white-hot, carnal pleasure that’s licking up your veins. You find the strength to blink back the budding tears in your eyes, to really look at him.

He’s holding it together well, fingers grounded where they dig into your fleshy hips, crimson eyes looking you up and down, taking you in, but like the quiet snap of embers in the background, ruining the illusion of the room’s heat emanating from you and Katsuki, his body betrays him. His muscles are jumping under his skin, twitching involuntarily like the hide of one of the cavalry’s prize stallions, ready to run. Katsuki’s fucking a princess in his mind, you think, a future queen, and he’s proceeding accordingly, trying to keep his caresses light and his infamous temper in check.

You blink at him, vision watery, and realize suddenly that, for the first time in your life,  you want to be a hot-blooded, wild, mortal. You want only to be a woman with a man inside of her, and you want to be regarded as such.

“Still doin’ alri–” Katsuki cuts himself off with a grunt when you roll your hips, biting back a wince at the unfathomable pressure in your stomach, the depth of him snug inside you. “Wait–”

“I’m fine,” you say, surprising even yourself at your sharpness. Confidence swells in your chest as he squirms under you, kissing away the burn of how he’s worked you open.

“But–”

“Eminna skoros iksis ñuhon,” you say down to him, looking upon your new husband with hooded eyes as you grind your hips down into him, adjusting to the strange stretch that accompanies his body inside of yours. Each movement of your hips into his makes it easier, soothes the slow throb of your body trying to make room for him. Pleasure begins to ignite again along your fingertips, and when you scoot forward a bit, pushing your hips back, his cock nudges something inside of you that makes your jaw drop.

Katsuki’s eyes widen momentarily, but you can see the moment he loosens the leash, succumbs to his baser instincts. His grip on your hips loosens, shoulders slackening, and his eyes darken, lids dropping a bit just to cover the tops of those crimson irises. He’s beautiful, godlike even, planes of hardened muscle at your command, the flames from the candles reflected in his eyes. Katsuki drags his gaze over you, nostrils flaring, bringing one hand up to the back of your neck and pulling you to him, pressing your foreheads together. The shift in him makes you gasp; the calm force with which he chooses to exert his strength.

“Lo emilā nyke, emagon nyke,” Katsuki says against your lips, all trepidation gone. You shudder in his arms, letting pleasure wrack down your spine like fire catching. “Yn eminna ao, hae sȳrī, dārilaros.”

Your blood sings at the low purr of the Old Tongue, poured into your mouth like a fine wine, but you curdle at Dārilaros. Princess. “Eman daor pāletilla skori iksā iemnȳ yno. Iksan iā ābra, iksan aōha ābrazȳrys.”

Katsuki nearly snarls, swears under his breath. “What did I tell you about saying shit like that?”

“You call me your wife,” you say, thoroughly pleased with yourself at his rapid unraveling. It’s never been like you not to have the upper hand. “Treat me as your wife.”

Even a hair’s breadth away from his face, you can see Katsuki’s last shreds of honor, that warrior’s heart, dying out. His eyes flicker over your face as you fruitlessly roll your hips, not able to get to the full extent of your pleasure with him gripping you so tightly. For the first time, you can feel his hands tremble against your skin. He’s only steps away from joining you in your damning mortality, finding the raw, primal humanity deep down inside of him. You rut your hips at him again, useless against his resolute grasp.

“Please,” you sigh against him, not even thinking to be ashamed of the breathy, needy plea you let out, not even wholly sure of what you’re begging him for, “make me feel good again.”

Katsuki groans, low in his chest, and nods, a covenant you’re building in the hot air between your mouths. His hands grab into your hips more fully, and he lifts you, only part of the way, before sliding you back down the length of him. You gasp into his mouth, caught off guard by the punch of him back up into the space he’s carved out for himself. It feels like he’s in your lungs, your breath coming out labored and pinched.

“Move,” Katsuki commands, settling back a bit and forcing you to sit up straight, hands on your ribcage. You’re bared completely to him again, and it’s still horrible, but the arousal dims any humiliation that threatens to rise. “Move.”

You wiggle your hips again, moving shakily along his cock, but Katsuki’s not pleased, evidently, as he digs his hands back into your hips.

“Like this,” he says, using his iron grip on you to correct your movements. Katsuki drags you up and down his cock in smooth, fluid motions, and despite the slowly-easing discomfort, your nerve endings come alight, the molten want finding a new peak as he rips a moan out of your throat.

“Oh–”

“Better?” Katsuki huffs, a vicious grin cutting across his face. Your arms flail a bit as he moves you, rolling you along his length as if you’re nothing more than a doll to him. Katsuki notices your awkwardness, takes one of your hands and places it firmly on your breast. You follow his lead, thumbing gently over one hard nipple, and, at the jolt of pleasure, you quickly bring your free hand to match on the other side, letting your head fall back.

“Katsuki,” you pant, quickly losing your composure and falling victim to the sensations devouring you, “it’s– that’s so good.”

“I know,” Katsuki breathes, still pulling you this way and that, “you’re perfect, so soft around me.”

You’ve never gotten to be soft; iron princess on the iron throne, made of embers and scalding steam, but for him? You bloom, pretty as a petal, letting your body meld into his like it was always supposed to be here. You’re not soft like silk, you let yourself be soft like candlelight, like magma, like the crashing of the ocean when you’re far enough away that the waves won’t get you, drag you under. Soft like doom.

“I feel– fuck, I think I– I need more.”

Katsuki’s lips twist at the breathless curse that flies from your lips, so foreign and funny-sounding in your regal mouth. You want to tease him right back, but he slides you off of him, and the loss is so devastating, your bottom lip nearly juts out as it did when you were a child. Before you can protest too much, Katsuki’s laying you on your back, hands sliding along your thighs, and you follow your instincts and bring your legs up to wrap around his waist.

“If it’s too much…” Katsuki trails off, losing his words when he goes to brush your bottom lip with his thumb and you suck him in voraciously, nibbling on his finger.

“I’ll tell you,” you promise, spitting him out and letting your own hand flutter across his cheekbone. He’s almost glaring down at you; so intense is the desire in his eyes that a small part of you wants to shy away, but you don’t. You wiggle your legs that much wider, arch your back, lean into the burn of him. You were born for the heat.

Katuski’s mouth quirks up in a little smile, already so fond it makes your chest ache, and he slides back into you, groaning when your cunt sucks him in greedily. You try to embrace the novelty of it, the dull throb of his cock splitting you wide, digging your nails into his arm by mistake. Katsuki swears in surprise, and you jerk your hand away, until he looks down at you admonishingly.

“Go ahead, perzītsos,” he hums, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your hairline, “I won’t break.”

He pulls back and thrusts back into you, harder than you’d expected, and your nails return to his wrist beside your head, digging half-moons into the pale skin. He’s different from this angle, not so agonizingly deep in you, but nudging against something inside you that renders you incapacitated, fuzzy-minded and pliant in his arms. Katsuki’s not faring any better than you, eyes hooded and little grunts slipping from his lips each time his hips connect with yours.

“What does it feel like?” Katsuki asks, beginning to look out of his mind with need. “Ivestragon nyke.”

“Deep,” you choke out, letting your jaw drop when he leans down to lick into your mouth, “full, I feel– full.”

“Good,” Katsuki mumbles, “good. Doesn’t hurt?”

“No.”

In answer, Katsuki moves his hips faster, snapping them against you with brute force. He’s keeping that ever-cognizant eye on you, monitoring you for any indication of pain or panic, but even through the haze of the tightening knot in the pit of your stomach, you can see him tumbling over the same edge that you have, lost to your baser instincts. You’re soft to him, your warm walls hugging him snug as he chases an end for you both, but sharp in the way your fingers claw into his skin, your teeth nip into his shoulder. Mine. Mine. Ñuhon.

“Katsuki,” you warn him, the balloon of pressure welling in your belly, growing so large you feel as though you might choke on it.

“I know,” he says, leaning down to press his forehead to yours. His voice is broken and ragged and tastes like hot coals, like copper and bronze and prophecy. You drink him down eagerly, so out of your mind with want that you’ve transformed. You’d entered the room as a blushing virgin of the highest, most noble bloodline, and here you are, twisting and keening under him, all molten limbs and whorish pants. Sweat dapples your forehead, drool smeared over your chin, and you’ve never felt more beautiful.

“I’m so– it’s the, the same,” you gasp, familiar words devolving into nonsense, “but it’s not enough, I don’t, I–”

“Here,” Katsuki growls, closing one strong fist around your wrist and sliding your arm between your writhing bodies, “just like I did it, remember?”

You find the same sensitive spot that Katsuki had shown you quickly, swollen and raw with pleasure, and try rubbing shaky circles over it, try to maintain some semblance of a rhythm and imitate his earlier movements. It’s uneven and inconsistent, but the added stimulation rockets through you, and your back pulls taut as a bow, arching off the featherbed.

“Close?”

“Yes,” you gasp, still not grasping what you’re close to, but feeling very much as though you’re teetering on the edge of a cliff, that same rushing building in your ears. You somehow had the presence of mind to register that what’s building inside of you now is different than it was with his mouth between your legs; it’s faster, wetter, fuller, and it feels like it’s choking you.

“Come on,” Katsuki urges you, bordering on a snarl as he pants desperately into your mouth, “want to feel you cum around me, feel this little cunt milkin’ my cock.”

“Kat–” you try to call out for him, so overwhelmed the edges of your vision are going dark. He’s grinding his hips into you forcefully, pinning your fingers to the apex of your cunt, forcing you to rub yourself harder. 

“You can do it, raqiarzy, come on–”

You cut him off with a loud sob of his name, thighs caging him in and the innermost walls of your body clamping down on him. Light bursts behind your eyelids, the white-hot flames of dragonfire and the embers of a burning forest exploding as your body is racked with wave after wave of bliss. Katsuki’s skin breaks under your fingernails, the slight dampness of tearing flesh familiar even in the haze of your orgasm. He works you through it, driving his hips into you despite the vicious tightening of your cunt around him, whispering affirmations into the pallid skin of your shoulder. Every muscle in your body contracts painfully, and you’d feel ashamed of the sounds escaping you if you could find enough wherewithal to care.

“Close,” Katsuki grits out, rolling his hips into your still-contracting cunt as your high begins to dwindle, “you ready for me?”

“Uh-huh, please, I– yes,” you babble nonsensically, interlocked ankles bouncing at the small of his back. As your orgasm drains from your veins, your muscles go lax, zapped of the fervent energy that had overtaken you. You find your body to be pliant and receptive, but your mind solely focused on watching that same ethereal pleasure that had possessed you wash over Katsuki. “Yes, I w-want you to cum.”

“Fuck,” Katsuki swears, hips stuttering, “take it, take it all–”

A guttural groan accompanies a sticky warmth flooding your insides; you squirm in his tight grip and moan at the sensation of being filled, feeling a fresh rush of arousal flow through you as you feel his cock twitching inside of you. You bite deep into his shoulder to muffle the pathetic mewls slipping from you at the feel of both his and your cum leaking out of your body, pooling in a little puddle underneath you. Everything is so earthy and musky; Katsuki’s salty skin between your teeth, his bruising grip into your hips, the stink of sex and sweat permeating the bedsheets.

Katsuki’s chest heaves against yours as his hips rock into you one last time, the thatch of blond hair at the base of him pressing against where you’re swollen and achy hard enough to make you whimper. When you wriggle around underneath him, he seems to snap back into himself, propping his upper body up on his elbows and bringing a hand to your face, thumbing over the arch of your cheekbone.

“Y’alright?” His carmine eyes are still glazed over, words gummy between his teeth, but the tenderness of his hand as he strokes your cheek lets you know he’s there.

“I’m alright,” you say, and you mean it. Something so deep in you that you don’t even have a name for is throbbing, and your body is still clenching and fluttering around where he’s softening inside of you, but your limbs are heavy and your head is in the clouds.

He’s a sight to see, a sight you commit to memory; sweat glistens on his pale skin, his eyes are hooded and sleepy, and a contented, lazy grin is starting to tug at the corner of his mouth. Katsuki pulls his hips back, pressing his lips to your temple in apology when you murmur something unintelligible, but hinting at discontent. You feel empty in a way you had never known you were supposed to, not until you’d learned what it meant to be fulfilled.

“Anything hurt?”

You shake your head, not sure how to verbalize that you’re not feeling any pain, but a deep-seated satiation that hints to the fact that you might never be able to lift yourself from the bed again. Katsuki’s still caging you in, heavy body crushing yours, when a jarringly unwelcome sound floats over his shoulder.

“Ah, um– Princess? I need to confirm–”

“I know,” Katsuki, sliding back into the skin of a general with ease, growls over his shoulder, “that you’re not daring to speak to my wife while she’s naked underneath me.”

Even given everything, your cheeks flare, and you shove at Katsuki weakly, making apologetic eyes at the attendant despite your humiliation. “It’s his job, Katsuki–”

“They can’t send a woman for this shit?” Katsuki cages you in even further, glaring at the servant who’s nearly shaking in his slippers. “Well?”

“I–I can fetch a female servant to confirm the consummation of the–”

“Do that, then.” The attendant’s soft footsteps as he scuttles away are hardly overshadowed by your breathy, tired giggles.

“You didn’t have to terrorize the poor man,” you swat lightly at Katsuki’s chest, “it’s his duty to confirm that the marriage has been consummated. The priests won’t have it any other way.”

“I’m sure he heard enough,” Katsuki grumbles, flopping onto his back beside you. He opens one eye, notices the sheet dragging dangerously close to your nipple, and tugs it up to your chin, closing his eye again and humming contentedly. His arm pauses for a moment, like he wants to stretch it over your shoulders, but he pulls it back by his own side, thinking better of it. You aren’t sure if you want to be held, if the intimacy outside of your duty as his new wife will be too grating against your already-raw nerves.

“My ladies will be here soon,” you say quietly, “to bathe me and help me prepare for bed.”

“Figured,” Katsuki grumbles, sounding entirely displeased at more people disrupting your peace. Something about it warms your heart, some small part of your mind hoping that his displeasure is rooted in a desire to keep you all to himself, hidden beneath the sheets.

“Your own attendants shouldn’t be far behind.”

“My what?” Katsuki sits up on one elbow again, looks down at you disbelievingly. “I don’t need any…ladies.”

“You’ll get used to them,” you tell him offhandedly, wondering if you’re being truthful. You’re just beginning to get acquainted with the intricacies of the man behind the title, but the general seems fiercely independent to you, and the image of him getting his hair scrubbed by a flock of servants is enough to make you chuckle to yourself.

“What?”

“Nothing,” you assure him, “I’m sure you’ll be a perfect royal specimen.”

Katsuki’s eyes narrow in irritation. “You didn’t inform me that ladies would be a part of my duties.”

“We can get men!”

“That’s worse.” Katsuki’s face screws up in an ugly scowl that makes you laugh outright. The lightness of your laughter makes his face fall a little, the hardened exterior giving way to the same man that had kissed reverently up the inside of your thigh, had been so achingly gentle with you when you weren’t sure what you would need to get through the night. A man you think you could love.

You look into each other’s eyes, something like starlight, like candlelight, like true, gods-given warmth buzzing between you, when the door creaks open, a gaggle of ladies and one priestess entering the room. Katsuki groans, tugs the blankets even further up your chests, the moment broken.

Ignoring his grumbles of protest, you pull yourself from the blankets with ease, baring your nude body to your ladies. There’s no shame in front of these women who have raised you, much to Katsuki’s astonishment. You don’t miss the way their eyes catch on the purple blooms on your hipbones, the way they squeal with excitement when you lay back and spread your legs for the priestess, displaying the thin trickle of Katsuki’s seed still steadily leaking from you. The priestess nods solemnly and leaves in the same manner; at least that’s done.

Your ladies do an absolutely dismal job of trying to appear subtle as they stare at Katsuki’s still-heaving chest, his narrowed eyes darting around the room suspiciously, his round biceps– your closest lady, Alanna, whisper-squeals in your ear about how huge your new husband’s arms are, and you have to pinch her cheek harshly to get her to stop, sensing Katsuki’s tangible discomfort from across the room. He behaves well as they bathe you, sitting up in bed and watching silently as you’re preened and fawned over, as your tangled hair has a brush torn through it and is twisted neatly into your nighttime braid.

A group of women hovering silently by the door, eyeing Katsuki nervously, appear to be his newly-appointed handmaids. You do both Katsuki and the women the favor of dismissing them for the night, unsure of how Katsuki, who is still gripping the sheets to his chest like a young, blushing maiden, will react to being pampered and scrubbed by foreign hands. 

“You can dismiss those serving girls for good,” Katsuki says gruffly, clean and ambling over to a looking glass to swipe a brush through his hair. “‘M not a boy, I don’t need any help getting myself to bed.”

You conveniently slide past the omission on the tip of your tongue– before Katsuki’s anxious staff had left, you had requested them to bring a hot bath, all of Katsuki’s bathing things from his old chamber, a freshly-dried sponge from the Narrow Sea for him to wash himself with. It’s enough to keep it to yourself, seeing how content he is in his new living space now, that you could do something for him amongst the chaos you’ve now thrown his life into.

“We’ll see,” you hum, picking at a stray cuticle over the covers and trying not to ogle him too obviously.

He’s still blessedly nude, unabashed in his swagger around the room as he dries himself with the strips of soft, woven cloth your ladies had left behind per your request. When he approaches the bed you’re laying in, you stiffen, unaccustomed still to these small intimacies. Royalty has proven to be a lengthy and lonely existence in your experience, and sharing it with someone is foreign to your solitary nature. Your own parents had had their own separate chambers, as every monarch before them. It was Katsuki’s one condition to accepting your proposal; you were to share bedchambers, like a common husband and wife.

“Princess?” Katsuki is hesitant when he approaches you, as if he already senses your trepidation. You will yourself to unclench your muscles, to relax your shoulders. You have no right to make him feel unwelcome in his own bed– the bed you now share.

“I told you I don’t want you to call me that.” You try to offer him a playful smile, but it only glimmers across your face. This is yet another bridge you need his guidance over.

“You did,” Katsuki nods sagely, the corner of his mouth twitching as he remembers the circumstance of that particular conversation, “I’m sorry, perzītsos.”

“Come to bed.”

“Are you sure?” Katsuki cocks an eyebrow at you, looking down at the huge bed warily.

“It was what you wanted.”

“Only if you want it.” Katsuki sighs deeply at your look of not-quite-belief and sits on the bed a respectable distance away from you. He reaches for your hand, a question, not a demand, and you slide your fingers into his calloused palm, humming contentedly when he runs his large thumb over your knuckles. He stays like that for a moment, contemplative and looking at your hand, bare of all of its usual finery and rings. “What did I say earlier?”

“When?”

“Before.” Katsuki raises his eyebrows enough that you catch his meaning.

“That we were doing things on my terms.” Something in your chest, warm and wet and laden with flowers, swells big and tight enough to pop.

“That didn’t just apply to, ah, earlier,” Katsuki coughs uncomfortably, flicking his eyes up to you, “that’s for all of this. Our…our lives are…the same now, and I don’t want you to think I need you– seven hells, that’s not what I meant–”

“You’re not very good at this, are you?” You interrupt him suddenly, a saccharine smile curling the corner of your lips. Katsuki flushes a vicious red, frowns and shakes his head in confirmation. “Neither am I.”

“No?”

“I haven’t suddenly found myself married before, so no.” It feels silly, all of the sudden, to have guarded yourself at all. Katsuki is many things, but above all, he is steady, a resolute rock against an angry ocean. “But while I feel many things about our…unexpected union, one thing I do not feel is alone. We can do this on our terms, not just mine.”

Katsuki nods again, looks back down to your hand in his, and cracks a wry smile. “This is why you’re the politician.”

“I’m a princess,” you deadpan, “not a politician.”

“But I can’t call you that,” Katsuki scoffs, rolling his eyes. The lightheartedness lifts the atmosphere in your bedchamber, oppressive with marital expectations and the stuffy heat of candles left burning too long, and it gives you the needed weightlessness to have your eyes slowly blinking closed.

“Exactly,” you agree matter-of-factly, stifling a yawn. “Will you call someone in to dispose of the candles?”

Katsuki snorts, pushing himself off the bed without answer. Before you can protest or feel hurt by his sudden abandonment, he crosses the room and bends at the waist, blowing out one of over two dozen candles. You can only watch in growing fondness and amusement as he huffs at each little flame, the room growing darker by the moment. By the time he’s finished, your eyes are hardly open, drifting shut as you sink into the pillows. A satisfied throb echoes through your body as you wriggle down beneath the sheets, the lingering evidence of Katsuki’s presence on and in you bringing a warmth to your cheeks even in the now-dark room.

The last thing you register as you slip into the beginnings of a heavy sleep is the dip of the bed behind you, and a thick, muscled forearm creeping stealthily over your waist.

“This alright?”

All you can muster is a tired mumble of acquiesce, nuzzling into the firm chest behind you. Katsuki chuckles quietly into your hair, a dark, soothing sound that has your mind careening towards sleep, eager to melt into this world of warmth and comfort in his arms.

“Ēdrū sȳrī, ñuha perzītsos.”

───── ⋆⋅ 𖤓 ⋅⋆ ─────

as promised, high valyrian translations here :)

Ānogar ānograro = "Blood of my blood."

Gevie = "Beautiful"

Iksā gevie, ñuha ābrazȳrys. = "You are beautiful, my wife."

Eminna skoros iksis ñuhon. = "I will have what is mine."

Lo emilā nyke, emagon nyke, yn eminna ao, hae sȳrī, dārilaros. = "If you will have me, then have me, but I will have you as well, princess."

Eman daor pāletilla skori iksā iemnȳ yno. Iksan iā ābra, iksan aōha ābrazȳrys. = "I have no crown when you are inside me. I am a woman, I am your wife."

Perzītsos = "Little flame"

Ivestragon nyke. = "Tell me."

Raqiarzy = "Beloved"

Ēdrū sȳrī, ñuha perzītsos. = "Sleep tight, my little flame."

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 7 - Make it up as we go along

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Bit of assault towards Bucky (but not enough to hurt him), a just a note that this probably isn't the healthiest dynamic...

Ah surprise chapter drop! Hope you enjoy. I probably won't be able to post again until monday now. As always, I appreciate your lovely reblogs and comments. I'm so glad people are engaging with this series and I hope you continue to enjoy it!! I’m afraid I don’t have a taglist for this series, I don’t use them as I’ve had technical issues with them in the past. Sorry!

(gif not reflective of how reader looks)

You knew he was right – you needed to clear the air, and fix whatever the hell was going on between you both (if anything). But you couldn’t resist being petty, lashing out after his poor treatment of you earlier. Granny always said be the bigger person…but she was a far better than woman than you.

“Sorry. Can’t. Not on the clock,” you shot back at him as you unlocked the car.

You opened the car door and his arm moved to your shoulder, holding you firmly to stop you from getting in. You held strong, not letting his touch melt you.

“Fine. I deserve that,” he said gruffly, “but I really do want to talk to you. Please”.

The softness in his voice caught you off guard and you found you were annoyed by the sudden wobble of weakness you felt. No! STRENGTH!

You sighed heavily. “Alright. Step into my office,” you gestured to the car.

You slipped into the driver’s seat as he dropped his hold from your arm, then he followed suit by getting into the passenger seat alongside you. The Mustang’s passenger seat looked almost comically small with his big bulk spread across it.

He turned to look at you, face perfectly illuminated by the parking lot lamps. It wasn’t fair that anyone could possibly look so hot in fluorescent lighting.

“This is a nice car,” he said admiringly as he looked around the interior.

“I know” you replied curtly. “She’s my girl”.

“What’s her name?”

“Sally”.

He blinked at you.

“Mustang…Sally? Really?”

You folded your arms defiantly. “Is that a problem?”

“No…no…it’s not…” but you could see in his face he was trying to hold back one of those stupid smirks.

“If you’ve come here to make fun of me you can get the hell out…”

“No! I haven’t. Christ. It’s just funny…that’s all. It’s…cute”.

“Shut up, James”.

“Ohhh…you found that out, huh?” he grinned wickedly. “Well joke’s on you, cos I like you saying it…”

You took a second to scowl and him, then stared ahead out of the windshield with your arms crossed, hoping you looked more mysterious stranger than you did tantruming toddler. The two of you sat uncomfortably in the resulting silence.

“I’ve been an ass,” he told you, his eyes intense.

“Yes, you fucking have” you growled back at him.

“I’m sorry…really-”

“Look…Bucky,” you interrupted him aggressively. “I get it, we kissed. It didn’t mean anything to you. Fine. Whatever. But you didn’t have to ignore me…you didn’t have to parade Amber around in front of me like-”

“Sugar…”

“No! I mean how hard would it have been to drop me a text? Or tell me you made a mistake? Literally anything…”

“Sug…can I speak-”

“I’m not some random girl in a bar, Bucky! You can’t just ignore me. We work together. You’re my boss. You can’t just lay one on me and act like I don’t exist and-”

“Sugar! I’m trying to explain myself here!!” he barked, but you seemed to be on a roll…the floodgates were open.

“And another thing! Why are you getting aggressive about me meeting guys?? I can date who I like! You don’t get to be angry, especially when-MMPH!”

Bucky had clamped his large metal hand over your mouth, quite literally silencing you. Your eyes widened in shock; his tactic must’ve worked because you were briefly stunned into submission.

“I’m sorry…that was rash of me, but I literally can’t get a word in edgewise…” he told you gently, his voice quiet as if trying to talk down a spooked horse. “If you’d just let me-”

You yelped and shrieked as you wrenched his hand from your mouth in disbelief.

“What the FUCK was that?” you squawked as you struck him on the shoulder. Not hard enough to hurt, if you even could hurt him, but hard enough for him to curse and utter your name in incredulity.

Suddenly you were climbing over the seat and swatting at him, your anger boiling over. The inevitable purge after holding everything in all night. You knew it must’ve looked funny as he was so much larger than you, but your anger outweighed any self-consciousness.

“What. The. Fuck” you cried out, punctuating each word with a thwack to Bucky’s torso as he swore and tried to shuffle back, but the lack of space in the car meant he had nowhere to go. He just bumped into the passenger window as he exclaimed at you.

He quickly became tired of your attempted assault and wrapped his arms around yours, trapping them at your sides and effortlessly pulled you over the seats. “Alright,” he said tiredly. “Enough of that!”

Suddenly you were incapacitated in his hold, essentially straddling his lap as you voiced your outrage and tried to wriggle out of his hold.

“Bucky! What the-”

“You wouldn’t stop hitting me and shouting in my face! Jesus! Do you have any idea what a menace you are?”

The two of you squabbled for a little longer, faces inches apart.

“If you would just listen…”

“You can’t just DO stuff like that!”

“Why do you have to fight me on every, single, thing?”

“Why can’t you just be upfront and direct with me for once?”

A sudden silence enveloped you both as if someone had flicked an off switch, the bickering now replaced with a shared penetrating stare between you the two of you. Almost nose to nose. It was as if you both realised your close proximity in the same moment.

You weren’t sure who went in first. But it didn’t matter. He freed your hands and they flew up into his hair as he kissed you roughly, and you kissed him back just as hard. It was heated, passionate but there was anger in there too. Pent up desire and rage, a deadly combination. You nipped roughly at his bottom lip with your teeth, and he hissed and retaliated by forcefully pulling you closer into him as the kisses became deeper and sloppier and your tongue was no longer yours but a separate force you couldn’t control. His hands made their way up your back, then moved back down across your waist, then he pulled you forwards and lifted your ass up and he squeezed fistfuls of it as he moaned into your mouth. Part of you wanted to slap him and call him a pervert but you were simply too caught up to do so. It was wrong but so right. You wanted to shun him and punish him, but you also couldn’t stay away from him. Damn him.

“You’re so annoying…” he murmured softly as he dotted kisses across your jawline.

“So are you…” you retorted as you rocked your hips against his lap and stretched to get more comfortable in the cramped car.

“I should’ve implemented a skirts-only uniform policy,” he growled as his hands explored the back of your jean-clad thighs.

“Stop talking,” you managed breathily before silencing him with another kiss.

He moved you further onto his lap again and you allowed him to. He was firm in his hold but never too rough. You leaned across him to pull the lever to recline the seat but in your urgency and ungainliness you managed to hit the horn with your backside, sending a loud tone that made both of you jump.

It seemed to snap you out of your stupor as you flung yourself back against the driver’s seat, your hands recoiling away from him like your fingers had been burnt.

“No…we gotta stop this,” you panted out as you regained your composure and smoothed down your mussed hair. The silence lay thick and heavy.

He sat back against his own seat looking a little bewildered. “Yeah…sorry. You’re right. I just…lost myself a little there,” he cleared his throat.

“You hurt me,” you told him meekly and unable to meet his gaze. “I feel really embarrassed. After we kissed…you didn’t get in touch. Then tonight you almost seemed annoyed I was there when you came in. And you spent the whole time with Amber, apart from when you got pissed at me for talking to another guy”.

You chewed your lip, mortified by your own vulnerability. But you were glad you finally said it out loud. It was the most honest thing you’d ever said to him.

You could see him nodding in your periphery. “I’m sorry, Sug,” he said quietly.

He took a deep breath. “That kiss…it did mean something to me you know”.

You finally turned to look at him, surprised by his admission. “What?”

He looked back at you. He seemed…smaller, somehow. “Of course it did,” he continued. “We both felt it, didn’t we? This thing between us. I feel a little crazy around you. You’re like this…brilliant woman. Smart and funny…makes the meanest spicy ‘marg for hundreds of miles,” he grinned.

Even you couldn’t stifle a chuckle at that.

“You also get under my skin in a way nobody else does. You make me so mad. But I can’t help being near you. And when you got hurt that night…I was so angry. Angry at myself for not protecting you. Angry at you for mouthing off and not getting help. I guess…I guess it sorta pushed me to finally make a move…and then Sam interrupted and…” he sighed “Fuck. I don’t know. I suddenly felt bad. I shouldn’t be hitting on my staff. Especially injured staff…”

“Yeah…but I wanted it too, Bucky. You know I did…”

“I know…But…I dunno, I wouldn’t want you to ever think I was taking advantage”.

You swallowed, absorbing everything he’d just told you. Yeah…that was reasonable. He was your boss after all and there was always going to be a weird power dynamic there, but you still had more questions than answers.

“Bucky…” you started quietly. “If you wanted the kiss…Why did you disappear? I didn’t hear from you…and then tonight…”

He interrupted you with a noise of frustration, but seemingly towards himself rather than you.

“Alright…look. This…well, there’s no way of spinning any of this that makes me look good here, alright? But I want to be honest with you…I’m not going to lie to you”.

You nodded, grateful for his candour but uneasy about what he might say. You stiffened but still turned to him and gave him your full attention.

“Okay…so. Like I said, I wanted the kiss. And I’m glad it happened. And I was gonna text…call…and I almost did so many times, I had your contact open on my phone and everything…but I guess…I panicked a little”.

“Panicked?”

“Yeah…I mean,” he sighed. “Because I really like you. And I’m not used to that. And on top of that, I’m your boss. And…you’re leaving town soon anyway. And…our relationship is sorta, volatile? I guess? I admit this is fucked up and chicken shit of me, but I kinda freaked out. I suppose I worried that if I jumped headfirst into something with you, it might be a mess. Or worse, I might fall hard, and it would be that much harder to see you go when the time came. I know you might think this is me taking the easy way out to give you the brush off…but it’s the truth”.

You sat in silence at his admission, eyes wide and lips parted. You were surprised at how open he was. The two of you had never really done ‘direct communication’ before…and it was eye opening to say the least. You knew deep down you agreed, you already knew that finally saying goodbye to him would be tough…you didn’t want to make it any tougher.

“I still shouldn’t have left you hanging like that. I’m sorry,” he told you with sincerity. “I’m not…good at this stuff”.

“And what about you and Amber? I mean the two of you…”

He sighed heavily, shaking his head. “Look…there is no me and Amber…”

“But-” you interrupted harshly. “I’ve seen you..”

“No. Seriously, it’s the truth,” he explained as he ran a hand through his hair. “Amber is cute. She’s fun. Again, I won’t lie to you – we’ve fooled around in the past. But I’m not interested in pursuing anything with her. She knows that, I’ve never lied to her about that. But she tries. And I do care for her. But it’s just messing around. We flirt and it’s fun, and I know it might look I lead her on, but I consistently remind her where I stand. I guess maybe she’s hoping I’ll change my mind? I don’t want to outright ban her from the bar…but she turns up…and some of the guys are involved with her friends…and I guess I’m too clumsy to give the situation the care it deserves because I don’t want to give her false hope, but I don’t want to be outright mean to her either. I know you probably think I’m just some meathead biker juggling girls, but I don’t like hurting people who don’t deserve it”.

You noted the concern in his voice. He really did seem to care about handling it right, even if he wasn’t very good at it. But you remembered the extent of tonight and rolled your eyes.

“C’mon Bucky…that’s all very well and good…but she was sitting in your damn lap this evening. So you’re not exactly taking a hard line with her….” You scowled.

“Yeah…and did you see the part where I rolled my eyes and moved her away?”

“Oh, come on…”

“It’s true! I told her to back off, but you’d disappeared…”

“Don’t insult me…”

“I’m not, it’s the truth!” He frowned. “Okay, fine, maybe I need to be stricter with her. We’ve just been doing this back and forth for so long I sometimes forget how it must look…”

“Poor little you…”

“Oh, don’t give me that. What about you, huh? Flirting and giving out your number in front of me?”

“That’s different! You were ignoring me…I thought you’d knocked me back!”

“I saw that message was from Wanda but you made out it wasn’t…I know what you were doing. You were enjoying me being jealous…And yes, obviously I was jealous, so don’t think make a whole thing of it”.

You stopped suddenly, your cheeks feeling hot as he’d caught you out in your game. “Oops. Um…okay. Fine…”

You both sat quietly until he spoke again.

“I guess both of us have played a part in this, not being upfront with the other about how we feel”.

“Yeah…” you sighed. “That’s true enough…I’m still mad, though”.

“That’s okay. I deserve it”.

He nudged you playfully and you couldn’t help but crack a smile. Damn him.

“Look…given how much drama there’s been already between us…Maybe we should just call it, put a stop to this thing and stay just friends and colleagues. Have quieter lives as a result,” you offered, unable to mask the melancholy in your voice.

He nodded. “Yeah…that probably is for the best”.

You felt sad…but you knew it was the right move. All this drama and angst and you’d only shared a few kisses. Imagine how much worse it would get? What if you’d slept together?? And he was right earlier, this whole thing did have an expiration date. You didn’t want to have to quit your job even if it was temporary. You didn’t want to leave on bad terms because you were banging your boss, or because you were insecure about who else he was banging. It all came back to the same bottom line…you didn’t need this in your life. Not now. Not with Granny’s house.

This was for the best. This was a mature decision. This was growth.

Wait.

Wait.

Why is he looking at you like that…?

What is he….oh.

Uh oh.

“Bucky…” you pleaded softly, but his mouth was already on yours.

“Just friends,” he mumbled into your mouth.

“Just friends,” you whispered against his.

Shit.

[uva124]

ASHA (MY AU)

Emmmmm how the hell do these types of blogs get started?

This post is just going to be me rambling on about what I want to do with Asha.

So let's get started?

INTRODUCTION: -As I said before I'm still developing this story (damn I don't even have an outline) but I wanted to start this rewrite (or plan it a little) because of something that really frustrates me about Wish, literally in a movie that commemorates 100 YEARS OF THE MOST IMPORTANT STUDY OF ANIMATION IN THE WORLD and the topic of art has not been given the importance it deserved, you know? It's like, yes, Asha shows her sketchbook in certain scenes, but then what? It literally seems like it's just for decoration, damn, Disney could have done the same thing as with the Miles Morales sketchbook in Spiderverse, but I'm already getting distracted from the topic, so one of my goals with this was to emphasize how important art can be , and not just the drawing, but all the forms that exist of it.

-So Asha is a little different from previous Disney princesses.

2. HISTORY:

CHILDHOOD: Yup! I'm joining the angst ship, I don't really blame anyone *cough* *cough* Flicker *cough* Bo *COUGH* *COUGH* ANNY *cough*, damn my allergies are getting worse. So Asha at this stage is quite cheerful and positive, basically like Rapunzel, Moana, Anna and this princess trope, however this takes place in the modern world (the movie would be set like in the princess and the frog movie only the world It's a little more modern) Asha discovers her passion for drawing, and as she grows up she wants to dedicate herself to that and is full of a lot of dedication and determination, but what would happen if we corrupted her dreams?

PUBERTY: “It's fine as a hobby…but it won't work Asha”, “Don't you like doing other more…useful things?”, “Come on, you have so much talent, are you really going to waste it on this?” , “Have fun without having a future” “Really this is more important than your other things Asha?” ,Yes, I am adding this, Asha wants to dedicate herself to animation, so Asha at first, like every Disney princess with character, ignores these types of comments, which came from anyone in general, some said it with good intentions and in a calmer mode and others in a more aggressive way (you know, being idiots), but when you receive this type of comments your entire life, it will somehow affect the protagonist, and it will only get worse *Insert evil laugh*

ADOLESCENCE: I didn't mention it but I plan to include Asha's family, or at least at the beginning, she was living with her parents Sakina and Tomas as in the official movie (I'm still debating whether to add Sabino or not), her father gets sick as in the original movie, so Sakina and Asha do their best to help him, then Asha has less and less time to concentrate on practicing drawing and in general her hobbies (I also want to emphasize that here Asha was doubting more and more about drawing as a professional way and started to despise her talent a little bit, not completely but that little seed had already been inserted in her head), her father was her biggest motivation, he was a dreamer like his daughter, her mother was more down to earth but equally supportive of her family, Tomas was always the first to see his daughter's drawings.

So continued the life of our protagonist, studying, working a little and drawing in the little time she had, and in those jobs she met Magnifico and Amaya, I'm still debating how I'm going to write them, but I'm sure I want them to do a scene with Asha that I'll explain later, for now let's continue.

One day Asha's father can't take it anymore and dies…….. all Asha could do was watch her mother running to her room because she really didn't want her daughter to see her in that state.

With that you're probably wondering, “Well, Asha can get a motivation to keep being a dreamer and pursue her dreams to follow her father's legacy rigth? “ Well actually………no, Asha in my Au unfortunately had already endured TOO many comments that referred to her dreams of being an entertainer or artist, even her mother had referred to it in a not so positive way (no, Sakina is a good mother, she's not perfect, but she cares like every mother about her daughter's future) , and without her major support in life, that…..eso ended up deciding that she would just give up on those dreams… or at least until a certain day.

CURRENTS: In the movie Asha is presented as a girl who studies a career that she does not like for the most part, but she says to herself “It's too late to redeem herself, there is no turning back, I just have to continue and everything will be fine, for me and my family”, she also works as an assistant to Magnifico and Amaya, during years of having met them she was getting closer little by little, in fact they knew the protagonist's family for some years but they had distanced themselves, they also “tried” to help with Tomas' illness, but as it was shown before that did not work out, now they gave Asha this job opportunity and she is not going to waste it, since she still has to help her mother.

Let's say that Asha doesn't draw much anymore, she still makes small sketches because, well, when you are really passionate about something you keep doing it despite the adversities, right? Even unconsciously (you're understanding what I'm trying to say, right? ), besides, it's not like she still deep inside has not stopped wanting to fulfill her dream, although she every time says that making drawings will not lead her to anything or just saying “it's a hobby that will not lead me to anything useful or important” is just to have a constant reminder that she might not make it, that it's not worth it, that no matter how much she loves to create and draw, it just doesn't make sense anymore.

Remember I told you about a scene between the villain duo and Asha? well this is what I have in mind:

Asha somehow or another is going to end up asking Magnifico and Amaya for help, which would lead to Asha maybe not working with them anymore or something so she can pursue a small glimmer of hope of fulfilling her dream of being an animator (as I say before, this post is just me rambling), the villain duo simply proceed to manipulate the poor girl by making snide and manipulative comments about her “insignificant goals” and her “wasted talent”, if Asha herself was already quite doubtful about these issues, this just makes her worse, she's lost, she doesn't know what to do, she's afraid of her future, she doesn't want to let her mother down, she doesn't want to end up being a disappointment (maybe I overdo angst, it doesn't matter, it's important for ✨character development✨).

Now a multiversal cosmic thing happens (that I'm still thinking about) but the point is that my Starboy (Haedus) and his 2 protégé/small brothers (Nembus and Naos) arrive, at first Asha is VERY SCARED AND CONFUSED, I mean, this is not possible right, she must be confused from crying so much - I mean this only happens in the movies and fantasy stories she saw as a child right?! (lmao)

At first she doesn't get along with Haedus, not at all, with the little ones at first she is a bit distant, but little by little she starts to develop a great appreciation for them, the little starlets (and then Haedus) throughout the story bring back to Asha that dreamy and positive side of her.

Also Asha is not the type of person who makes derogatory comments when it comes to the goals or dreams of other people and her friends despite having received them all her life, no, she is not that type of person, of course everything she has lived through makes her more sarcastic or pessimistic at times, but she doesn't want someone else to feel like her, she doesn't want anyone to go through what she went through, and this is only reinforced with the arrival of the stars.

I have to mention that Nembus and Naos make Asha remember how she was as a child: cheerful, positive, dreamer, and seeing how the antagonists want to hurt them, how that can destroy the hopes and illusions of the little stars, that just makes her more determined to defend the little ones at all costs.

“They still have dreams, and they can still fulfill them, that's why I won't let others destroy those dreams, not like me.”

3.PERSONALITY:

-Sarcastic -Negative to a certain extent -Empathetic -Indecisive -Calm -Organized

FINAL COMMENTS:

That's all I have for now, I hope I haven't bored you, as I said before, this is all just my rambling, I still don't have an outline or plan for this, anyway, I hope you had a good time reading this, see you next time!✨✨✨

[angelfirstclass]

X-men finale reaction...

OMG, hell yes. This was epic, this was a triumph and looking at all of the ten episodes together, THE best X-men adaptation ever. It did honor to the source material and was the best decision to keep it in the 90s and not modernize it And it took it beyond and super deep. The music was epic- I want the soundtrack or would attend a live concert of the music. Then the plot and fan service done to the viewers was chef's kiss perfection. There may be detractors out there and I may come down from this cloud and be able to nitpick but not now. I'm too excited and thrilled.

Firstly, I love that Disney is promoting X-men on the main page and was the first thing I saw when I opened the app. Yes, Disney! Disney/Marvel, congrats. You helped create a masterpiece of modern storytelling that revived an old almost forgotten piece of comic cartoon history and pulled it into the modern age. It was perfect timing and us old fans who grew up on TAS was thirsting after, but you also brought in new viewers and viewers like my husband who could care less about cartoon superheroes. But the storylines were compelling and the writing was deep, X-men 97 deserves its flowers. (Spoilers ahead).

Secondly, the writing and character development in this episode was fan service, it was perfection, and it was very well written. Starting with Cherik which I had some objections to last week due to feeling that Xavier was being holier than thou and not understanding Erik. But in this episode seeing the lengths that Xavier would go for Erik melted my heart. I still have some thoughts about Erik "making his X-men turn on each other" as I feel that they are grownups with their own minds, but the rest of the episode with Xavier cradling Erik and willing to go down with the ship with him is gold. Then they busted out the Badass X-women and I loved it! I am a huge Rogue fan and they did right by her- she was accepted back into the team no questions asked and she was so fierce. I teared up when she attacked Bastion with the "Remember it" line and I loved the whole team stepping up, working together to battle Bastion. I also loved the Cable/Scott/Jean storyline and we even got some Morpherine!

Thirdly, some of my predictions came true! I predicted in a previous post that the Avengers and other Marvel characters would make cameos in the finale and I was right! It was a veritable who's who of Marvel characters and I cackled in delight when they popped up! Predictably, Iron Man and Captain America were in the White House with the President. I knew that they weren't sitting out on this one! Then we saw Daredevil, Silver Samurai, Black Panther and Dora Milaje, Psylocke and many more!

Last but certainly not least, Apocalypse and more importantly DEATHBIT! As a ROMY shipper, I squeed so much at this! The fans have been dreaming about this since ep 5 as it gives us even a sliver of having some part of Gambit back and now it's confirmed with that Queen of Hearts cliffhanger. Oooh yes! Even if it's not the Real Remy back, just having Deathbit and a glimmer of Remy back in the storyline is juicy and desired indeed. There are a LOT of Romy and Gambit fans out there and this satisfies us and has us wanting more. Even if it's crazy and complicated, fans are going to eat up a Deathbit storyline, so yes please! And beyond Gambit, Apocalypse is a badass villain- kudos for the writers going here. Comic and Cartoon fans alike can agree that time travel is interesting and will come up with many cool, fascinating new storylines.

I can't wait until Season 2, but until then I will be rewatching the finale a million times. I am so glad that the writers understood the assignment and gave us this masterpiece. It calmed my Romy heart, gave us amazing battle sequences, had fun Marvel cameos, and perfectly set up next season.

[mazzystar24]

I'm bringing positivity (I hope) lol. Top 5 buddie hc on any or all of the following, from eddie pov pls!

1. Waking up together

2. Buck being a dad to Christopher

3. Buck's eyes

4. Marriage...like not just a proposal or a wedding, but the institution of marriage and what it means to commit via marriage to someone you love

Ahhhh hi babe!! I didn’t get to post this yesterday cos my brain was melted post exam so sorry it’s late and thank you sm I love this ask!!!

I’m not creative or artsy enough to give you beautiful descriptions but I can YAP

1. We’ve seen in the show that Eddie is like the organised morning person, wakes up, has a whole routine etc,

Buck gives off goes for a run and cooks in the morning energy but also he’s a disaster bisexual so as a fellow disaster bisexual I choose to headcanon that he is at his most unbearable in the morning, chugs down coffee and is disoriented for a good hour type of thing

So ofc eddie would be endlessly fond of this because he’s been up for ages and has just been giving utter heart eyes at sleeping snoring buck and now is met with awake slightly unbearable buck

2. First of all, the PTA loves him and who can blame them, but back to buddie, I think to Eddie it’s such a calming thing to be able to rely on another person like that, to be able to delegate or anything without feeling guilty or like you’re a bad parent, like he can trust Buck with the fun stuff but also the heavy stuff, but also with some of the 1,000 little responsibilities and obligations of parenthood and it’s just this relief and like equilibrium to it of being part of a unit

3. I’m a SLUT for eyes, I don’t know what I can say though honestly you’ve seen them, Eddie definitely is pro buck wearing light blue tops because they do in fact do the Zoey deschanel in 100 days of summer effect

4. I feel like Eddie will have very mixed feelings on marriage, I think a part of him has a lot of guilt and resentment toward the institution of marriage, I think to him a part of him sees his to Shannon marriage as the start of the end for them.

Buck we know wants to be someone’s husband SO bad, like bro came out of margret’s evil womb probably asking for an apron and some kids of his own, jokes aside I think that Buck’s abandonment issues and lack of self esteem longs for this BECAUSE in his eyes it’s the connotations of being chosen and being kept, like to him marriage is saying “out of everyone in the world I choose you and I’m never gonna leave you” so I think it’s very important to him and the idea of not having that eventually would definitely make his insecurities go brrrr

So I’m an AVID enjoyer of all the fics where Eddie is very aware of this and like it’s a thing™️ in their relationship- before the self healing ensues and Eddie realises it’s different this time

I’m not sure how much I hit the “from Eddie’s Pov” bit of your ask cos idk how to but hope you like this, thanks anon!!!

Edit:

LEGIT POSTED THIS BEFORE REALISING YOU MEANT FIVE FOR EACH OR FOR ONE OF THEM AGJSKFKG HOPE ONE OF EACH IS GOOD COS I NEED TO LEARN HOW TO READ APPARENTLY 😭😭🫶🫶

[yuurivoice]

Alot of big creators having deep lore in thier stories is making your fans over analyze everything and you're just like "nah thats not important" "not that deep" "anything outside of the story isn't important its just for fun" lol

A little bit, I think. There's plenty of things that are fairly deep and lore relevant, and theorizing on that front is good and fun. There's just a clear distinction in what is and is not like that in my work, and some folks who like the more loosely tied together things like Lucien for example, would love it if it was deeper.

But I'm not gonna squeak out a fart if I ain't ready to toot, because that's how you end up shitting your britches, ya feel me?

(Jackie Commentary: "The real Tortured Poets Department...")

I think it's partly a symptom of the long wait between big narrative installments like BitterSweet and Auron's stuff, because people want to dig and that's a good thing, but there hasn't been a ton of new stuff to dig into for a while. Or they want to dig elsewhere and then when they come to me with questions I'm just like...idk man I don't even remember what you're referencing because I wrote it at 3am during a manic episode and forced myself to record it when I could hardly function. lol

I'm not that clever or deep, I don't present myself like some super talented writer who has a whole conspiracy board of lore mapped out in my office. I'm a fucking mess of a man who has failed upwards and thankfully people enjoy what I create, when I'm able to create it, and the rest is smut.

We also have a bit of an issue with people who only halfway know what they're talking about speaking like they 100% know what's going on and they're only half right and don't even know why. Like referring to all listeners as "Dreamers" only somewhat right, or thinking that only some characters are "Dreamers" is also not right.

And it's actually spelled out pretty clearly what Dreamers are if you know where to look, but I'm not just going to state it plainly in a random Tumblr post because I have plans on how it'll be addressed in the content itself.

So basically, with a lot of what I'm working on I'm also trying to make shit as clear as I can, tidying up the knowledge and lore for people while also creating some new questions to ponder that at least put people back on the right track.

There are also a lot of folks who have things pretty figured out, but they're...just chilling, I think. LOL

Ultimately, having people really curious and creative about things to the point of theory crafting and going deep is a good thing. I just...don't always have satisfying explanations or answers to some things because I'm not so deeply involved with my characters or some of their less intricate stories that I can just...unload a bunch of random trivia about them.

The speculative part of being a fan of character or story is the fun part, and I worry that having such direct access to me actually fucks that up to an extent. And because of the intimate nature of the content, people get really really really invested in these characters on levels that I don't typically go to. Seth and Alphonse, maybe Auron, are exceptions because they're very personal to me. But otherwise? That doesn't happen very often.

Anywho, we're probably at another juncture where I have to decide if it's healthier for me to take a few steps back and be less involved on this side of things for a while. It can get really exhausting and it doesn't have to be, but for me and for the fandom, probably.

[charliewhaw]

What would happen if Alastor shared and accept Vox viewpoint of adaptation of time and advanced technology? Do you think you’ll become much stronger or just become very different but the same level!?

( This is a fun question! Alastor accepting new technology? Now there’s something to be curious about! ) (( Post edited and contributed to by balloondrifloon. ))

There are two ways this would go, and both have the same result.

Way one: Alastor would have accepted Vox’s offer to join the Vees. It would have either been a blatant yes or no, no in between. However, if Alastor said yes, then it’d be purely business.

He’d keep his friendship with Vox, so there would be that. But the Vees would only serve as a source of technological advancement for him.

Vox and Alastor would work together in creating new tech, but the advertisement of this new tech would be solely left up to Vox as Alastor’s interest in tech wouldn’t be monetary.

No, Alastor craves knowledge and power. He would contribute to the technological advances without participating in their intended uses. Like smartphones, for instance: He wouldn’t play on a smartphone, but instead, make smartphones fascinating enough to play on so he could spy on people through the phone cameras and microphones. He would spend his time gathering information to use against others when the time came.

Alastor’s true involvement in the Vees would be sinister. Outwardly, though, he would be a bubbly personality that Vox would happily show off to Hell as his partner in tech.

Way two: Alastor still rejects Vox’s offer. There’s no thought behind it other than not wanting to be owned by a company. He was an individual, after all. One that won’t easily go down as just another member of some organization. If he went down in history, he would want to go down as Alastor: The Radio Demon, not Alastor, that one member of the Vees.

If Alastor doesn’t join the Vees, he would have to put a lot more effort into staying on top of technology. However, Alastor is an insanely intelligent man and learning a new trick or two is definitely in his wheelhouse. He’d easily figure out coding and hardware design, with or without Vox’s help. Alastor’s technology wouldn’t be fun and entertainment-based like Vox’s tech is. It would be more focused, refined, and skilled at gathering intelligence. This could take any form that Alastor masters, such as hacking networks, spy systems, or even branching out into something uniquely his, like voodoo-infused weapons defense.

This would be available to the public but only in small quantities, because Alastor’s technology would still not be monetary focused. It would be considered an honor and privilege to own something Alastor designed, and people would literally kill each other for it. Owning weapons defenses, or spy systems, or being a part of his hacking networks would be seen as having a rare power. A sentiment Vox could never rival because his technology is commonplace.

Vox would have to fight to keep up with Alastor’s advancements. They’d constantly be toe-to-toe. Alastor’s would be creating software to hack into Vox’s defenses and gather data on both Vox’s audience and the Vees, while Vox would be in a constant state of upping his defenses to prevent that from happening. “Angelic Security” would never have been considered nor trusted seeing as hackers had a consistent window into Vox tech privacy and firewalls.

Vox, for the safety of his company, would attempt to put his rivalry aside and ask Alastor to join him on numerous occasions. These occasions would always be followed by rejection and another temper tantrum on Vox’s part.

In either situation, Alastor joining the Vees or not, Alastor would be the first to know anything that happens in Hell. You thought he was good at gathering intel to use to his advantage before? You’ve seen nothing yet. This would make it much, much worse. You wouldn’t be able to sneeze in your bathroom without Alastor knowing. Not a piece of information can get through Hell without being already known by Alastor.

Don’t call him Alastor. He prefers Al. It looked like “ai” and that amuses him.

You may think this is a lot of work for one individual, and you’d be right. Al can’t do it all by himself.

So he’d make himself an assistant.

His shadow would do just fine. He would infuse it with electricity and it would be able to jump into his tech and help with software design. Not only that, but it could easily travel through the wires and internet further work as Al’s eyes and ears on Hell.

Al doesn’t use a microphone. He’s got a headset looped around his neck at all times. The headset has little antlers and deer ears on it.

His attire is quite modern. Still spiffy, but modern-spiffy. He wears a red jacket that’s sleek, almost plastic-looking, and lacks tatters. It gives off a contemporary, digital appearance. Instead of his monocle, he wears smart sunglasses that have a HUD display from his point of view. The hoof-shaped soles of his shoes light up and change colors like RGB lights.

He’s really fun to look at.

Al would still attend the overlord meetings, however, he would seem far less interested, wanting to get back to what he was developing. He wouldn’t go in person, instead sending a hologram, so he could work while he listened to Carmilla talk.

Al wouldn’t have a radio tower. He’d have a recording studio with soundproof pads on the walls. Instead of using only radio, he would record digital audio, which he would make available live on his radio show, then later available on his website and other platforms as podcasts.

Al is a wifi hotspot. The hotel never lacks good wifi. People get so excited to see him because it means they finally have full bars in Hell’s naturally spotty connection. Vox’s wifi doesn’t reach everywhere, and where it does reach, it’s not exactly safe to use because Al’s hackers might be lurking, waiting for someone to connect.

Angel Dust would call him over to stand as near to him as he allows while he attempts to upload photos to Sinstagram.

Niffty wants him around while she streams her… ‘anime’… Al requests she wears headphones and keeps the screen from being tilted in his direction.

Charlie and Vaggie use him to keep up to date with the social media platforms Al advertises the hotel on.

Al runs the social media accounts for the hotel, even if they sometimes wished he didn’t. He might be technologically advanced, but he still doesn’t give a shit about what people think or say. His interest in social media is purely business and he has no fascination in it outside of keeping the hotel in the spotlight.

His influence would actually draw more people to the hotel, either as fans, or people who actually wonder if the hotel would work because someone as powerful and influential as him says it does.

He would monetize absolutely everything in social media that he could for the hotel’s budget, then leave the money at Charlie’s disposal.

Cannibal Colony takes a lot of influence from Al. Rosie does her best to keep the colony as tech free as she can, but she lets some things slip by if it means supporting her deer friend. That being said, they have an agreement that Al isn’t to bring new technology into the colony without Rosie’s approval.

Al’s voodoo power is still stronger than his tech power, but together, they’re a deadly combination. He infuses his voodoo into a lot of his tech, which is another reason his tech isn’t super mainstream. But, boy, does it pack a punch.

Al installs a soul detector at the hotel’s entrance without anyone knowing. It quite literally kicks any rejected souls away. Al decided one day that this included Lucifer. You can imagine the king’s surprise when a pixelated, hoof-cloven boot appeared out of the wall and punted him across the hotel’s front lawn.

Al’s prank was not appreciated.

Speaking of pranks, he’s constantly doing shit to ‘prank’ Hell. He never gives any context or ever comes out and says it was a prank, but you know he was fucking with you. Sometimes there’s not even proof he was, and it was simply a mind game. Pure entertainment for Al.

Like, for one example, Al dressed in blue all day long, only to act like everything was normal. He went outside and let people take photos of him. The next day, he’s back in his normal attire, and all photos of him have been altered overnight by his hacking systems and turned red. There is absolutely no proof he ever wore blue.

What? You saw it? No, you didn’t. He would never wear blue. Preposterous.

In conclusion, Alastor would be insanely powerful if he took advantage of technology. I guess we’re lucky he doesn’t.