#but ofc that changed hahaha

[amaranthdahlia]

that smirk probs aimed at crowley saying like yeah i got my angel rightttt here with me, in less than a year too (that or theyre both teasing aziracrow)

[baekslap]

My Top 9 Picks 💖✨💙

[cheemken]

KNIGHT I GOT ANOTHER AU IDEA FOR THE CHAMPIONS

You ever watched Final Destination? Or any of its sequels? Anyways if you haven’t, it’s pretty much starts with a group of people getting into an accident and all of them dying with the main character seeing everyone’s death before dying themselves. But then the MC “wakes up” a couple of minutes before the accident happens, they make a scene and scare the people in that group into getting away from the accident, saving their lives. But then they all start dying in the order the MC saw because Death is coming for them

Anyways, for this AU we’re gonna ignore the last sentence cause it wouldn’t work with this AU. I just needed something for an example

For this AU idk who we’re going to make the “Main Character” whether it be one of our favourites, Diantha or Iris, or one of the other champions?

Or maybe even ALL of the champions saw their deaths? Idk you can chose your favourite

But yeah, the scenario I had was either the Villain teams from each region kidnap and kill the champions in a show of power, to say that even the strongest trainers cannot stop them, or a Pokémon causes mass destruction around the world and none of the Champions would stop it

For the first scenario if we go with it, I imagine the villain teams teamed up with each other to form Rainbow Rocket, and decided to announce their alliance by killing the champions and declaring the world is THEIRS to rule

Like they sent grunts and admins to attack the cities where the Champions live. I fully believe the Champions are capable of winning this fight but for people like Lance, Cynthia, and Iris, they have family living in the same city/town. I bet they used that to their advantage and went after Drayden, Clair, and Cynthia’s sister and practically used them as a shield. Told the champions to surrender and mocked them for choosing to save their family over the thousands of people they could be saving instead

So yeah, they all eventually get kidnapped one way or another and get killed by Team Rainbow Rocket. But then they wake up a few days before it happens with the knowledge of what’s to come within the next days

But idk, it’s 11:00pm and if you have a better scenario then I’d love to hear it. Or if this makes much sense lmao

Ohhhhh👀👀👀

No shit I and my friends only saw some of the death scenes in those films lol and we watched it in the school's library back then during our elementary years hahahah it was an experience man, surprising we didn't get caught especially w how gory it was hahaha

But damn that's cool tho👀👀 low-key that reminds me of the rebellion au where the champions died, but at least in this au they could somewhat stop the threat instead of just dying like that bc they were caught off guard or luck just weren't on their side

But that's gotta fuck em up tho having to dream abt their deaths or at least being in that kinda position, having to decide which is more important, their family or the people of their region/the world

But like yknow, imagine too bc if that came to them as a dream, just how much of it will they actually believe?? I haven't watched any of the films btw so like spare me if some of the stuff I say doesn't fit hahah but y'know, some aren't even sure if it's truly a premonition of their deaths, or if it's just a bad dream and nothing more. Cause maybe some of them were sceptical abt it, maybe they were just being paranoid y'know, but it's also a bit of a wake up call that yeah they have to deal with the evil orgs as soon as possible lest the nightmare turns to a reality, and they'd rather not risk that

They'd be so paranoid tho real, like, imagine Lance being more desperate to find Rocket and finally put an end to them, he's losing sleep bc of it, looking at every nook and cranny on both Johto and Kanto; Steven and Wallace didn't think Aqua and Magma would be such a threat, Sootopolis became so heavily guarded now, the orbs were with Wallace; Cynthia's like really stressed out man, making sure Dawn and Barry doesn't get involved and coming in terms her childhood friend is probs really gonna kill her if she doesn't stop him; Iris became more adamant on stopping Plasma too, almost as desperate as Lance, but there's also that fear that maybe if she leaves Opelucid to hunt down Plasma smth might happen to Drayden; Diantha is also stressed af my guy, if smth happens to her brother, that's really gonna be her villain origin story and if anything, she'll dragb Lysandre to hell with her; Hau's not sure how to approach it too cause y'know, Lusamine is his friends' mother, what whould Gladion and Lillie even say, I mean tbf their relationship w Lusamine isnt all that well anyways, but still, maybe he'd be more cautious now; Leon already had a bad feeling abt Rose, so now he's making sure Hop and Gloria doesn't get too close to the chairman, if whats in his dreams are true, then he has to find the legendary wolves too, and who else knows more abt it than Sonia; Idk what kinda stuff Geeta would have to deal w anyways, maybe the AI profs?? But that'd be dope tho if they become somewhat sentient enough and like, idk, hc that Geeta and Sada/Turo aren't in good terms, and like the AI got corrupted maybe?? Not sure w this one hahah

But man that's dope, like, the paranoia y'know, having to see in great detail just how they're gonna die, and if not them, then their loved ones, or even the people of their region

[biskael]

I think that Quilge should throw in the occasional thee & thine , etc . Just for fun .

[atsu-i]

.

[nanaslutt]

gojo & geto fucking their pretty bestfriend (you guessed it, you<3) in the eiffel tower position <333

contains: fem reader, threesome, the boys are gay for each other, choking, hair pulling, dirty talk ofc, kinda rough, gojo is a brat, satosugu are switches, sub reader tho

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

"fucking christ this pussy is killing me," geto has a strong hold on your hips as he pulls you back on his dick, similtaniously knocking gojos cock deeper into your throat, making your eyes water as you gag around him

"hahaha don't tell me ur about to cum already Suguru, we jus started," gojos hand is resting on the underside of your throat, so he can feel his dick every time geto fucks you into him

"shut the fuck up satoru," geto hisses and gojo infuriatingly laughs in response, "how are you doin princess?" gojo directs his attention to you

there is no way you were responding while in the state you were currently in, coughing and sputtering spit around gojos cock while geto expertly fucked straight into your g-spot

"whats that? gotta speak up baby, cant understand you" he coos, whiping the tears and spit off your cheek with his slender fingers

if you had half a mind, you would've slapped gojo for being such a bully, but luckily for him, you didn't have half a mind, geto stuck up for you though; ever the sweetheart he is; "such a fuckin bully satoru, maybe I should fuck you next while they sit on your face, see how you fucking feel then huh?"

you couldnt lie that the thought of suffocating gojo between your thighs and having him suck on your clit while geto fucked high pitched whines out of him didnt sound like the worst idea in the world, but that was for another day

reaching down between your legs you rubbed quick circles on your clit while digging your nails into gojos thigh to stabilize yourself,

"oh, i think someone likes that idea" geto smiled, feeling you squeeze and pulse around him, "you wanna help me fuck the brat outta gojo princess? bet we'd make such a g-good team" he punctuated with a particularly deep thrust, almost making you lose yoru balance, resulting in you digging your nails impossibly deeper into gojos thigh

and gojo fucking moaned like a bitch, tipping his head back, both his hands instinctly gripping your hair as he hunched over you biting his lip, taking a deep breath and slowing his hips down, it took every once of his strength not to fill your mouth with his cum at that second

you choked at the rough treatment but were grateful when gojos hips slowed, the opportunity arose to swallow air into your lungs again and you greedily took it

geto's rough treatment of your poor abused pussy bouncing you a little on gojo's cock still, but the loss of gojo also assisting was a nice change of pace

gojo looked up through his lashes at the raven haired man, he was fucking smirking

this had now become a competition, as most things did between them

abandoning one of the hands he had gripped on your hair and reaching out in front of him instead, his target? geto's hair

gripping suguru's signature bun and pulling his face close to his, lips grazing each other as he smiled against the ravens lips, geto's smile now wiped completely off his face, his jaw now slack as he stared into gojos eyes, knowing exactly what gojo was getting at

"i know kissin gets you all hot huh, you wanna kiss me suguru?" his jaw opening slightly, tipping his head back and forth as he looks between sugurus eyes and his lips

you felt geto's cock twich inside you, his pace stuttering a bit at gojo's words, gripping your hip a little harder, for his own sanity, he would apologize for the bruises later

"what do you think baby, should I let him kiss me, huh? he'll probably fill you up the second I get my tongue in his mouth."

the speed at which the roles between them keep reversing is giving you whiplash, bringing you closer and closer to your own release

you try to speak around him, wanting to tell him 𝒚𝒆𝒔𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒑𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒊𝒕, opting to just nod as your mouth was filled to the brim with gojo's thick cock

"yeah, think i will, good call baby," he rubs his thumb on the top of your head soothingly as his attention is now back on geto

"what do you say suguru?" the mans mouth is so close to suguru's own, his eyes now staring at the place theyre about to be connected at

"thank you, thank you princess." he says as gojo finally lets their lips crash together

and its soooo messy, the kiss; if you can even call it that; is all teeth and tongue, both the men moaning into the others mouth, their moans rising in pitch

geto feels like he could cum at any second, but what kind of man would he be if the one who allowed him to cum in the first place didn't get to squirt all over his pretty cock first?

he blindly reaches down between your legs, pushing your own hand out of the way as he quickly finds your clit and rubs is back and forth at a speed that has the coil in your tummy to wind faster than it ever has

"squirt on me baby," he whines into the blondes mouth obscenely "need to feel you cum all over- m-my dick, please baby" he’s whining

suguru's kisses becoming less and less reciprocating as his jaw goes slack and gojo's keeps tongue slides into his mouth

your legs snap together as your cum squirts out all over geto's toned thighs, moans muffles, choking on gojo's cock bordering on blacking out from air deprivation and sheer pleasure as you have the longest and hardest orgasm of your fucking life "m gonna cum, o-oh my god oh my god, fuck gojo fuck, 'm gunna cum, m gonna fill her up" gojo moves his hand to geto's throat, squeezing his throat, hard, tipping his head into sugurus

"m right there with you baby, gunna cum inside her pretty pussy, yeah? gonna cum inside her while I mess up her tight little throat?" hes talking geto through it

and youre trying to keep yourself awake as they fuck you from both ends into overstimulation, squeezing your pussy and swallowing around them both as you try to milk them for all theyre worth

ome of suguru's hands leaving its place on your hip to grab gojos wrist as the white-haired man tightens his grip, knowing just how to bring him to his climax

geto stills before he hunches forward over you and into gojo as he fucks rope after rope of his hot cum into your abused pussy, moans broken up by gasps as gojo tightens and loosens his grip on suguru's throat

quickly pulling out his cock from your mouth gojo pumps his cock at an inhumane pace, your heaving but you still instinctively stick your tonge out, like the good girl you are as his thick cum covers your face, he would feel bad about covering your hair and long pretty eyelashes with his cum but.. who is he kidding, he doesnt feel bad at all, his favorite girl with his seed all over your face, its the prettiest sight hes ever seen

letting your head fall against gojos thigh as your chest rises and falls rapidly, wincing as geto pulls out his softening cock from behind you, biting his lip stairing down at your ruined hole

"heh, i-," "shut the fuck up and come look at at this" suguru cuts off his best friend, gojo pouts but gently slides your head off his thigh to crawl to the other end of the bed and check out the veiw the raven-haired man is so adamant on showing him

your so red and your pussy is so puffy and angry, geto's cum has been steadily dripping out of you and down your thigh

gojo whistles as he pulls your lips apart to get a better look, he swipes his thumb on you, collecting some of your combined cum together, you whine at how sensitive and sore you already are

gojo pushes your shoulder back twords the bed so your chest is facing the ceiling as he leans over you and slips his thumb in your mouth, making you taste you and suguru's combined mess, "what do you say, pretty?" he watches your lips wrap around his finger befoer he pops it out of your mouth

"t-thank you" you say, voice hoarse

gojo giggles, starting to get up from the bed to get some towels to clean the three of you up

"so," you start "when were you guys gonna tell me you’ve fucked before?"

part 2 :p

[garciapimienta]

De Zerbi to Barça when?

[evanpeterswhoresblog]

Innocence (pt. 2)

Remus Lupin x f!reader

warnings: smut, protected p in v, oral (female receiving), fingering, loss of virginity, making out, underage smoking, underage drinking, slight innocence/ corruption kink, lmk if i missed any :)

summary: remus’s obsession with your purity ring gets worse, even after he finally gets it off your finger…

word count: 3.6k

a/n: ok so for anyone wondering when i wrote this i was thinking of the remus drawn by likeafunerall because omggg they draw him so good. let me know what you guys think ofc sorry if it’s not as good as the first part, i sorta rushed to get this out smh. but i’m so in love with remus hahaha

~~~

“Remus we shouldn’t be doing this...”

“Then tell me to stop.”

“I... fuck.”

Remus couldn’t help the smirk that took over his face. He finally had you in a spot he’d fantasized about countless times, he wasn’t going to let it go so easily. It was simple really. You were pressed against a wall, and he was on his knees in front of you. He wished he could see the look on your face, you must’ve been blushing hard, your soft eyes squeezed shut as you tried to deny yourself the pleasure your body craved. Unfortunately, your skirt was over his head and prevented him from seeing your pretty face as he ate you out.

It had been a few weeks since the first time you let him touch you, and it would be an understatement to say he enjoyed it. He was obsessed with it. He was obsessed with you. With every encounter the two of you shared it was like a part of your innocence was taken away and given to him. You were still far more innocent than anyone else in the year, without a doubt. But ever so slowly you were losing that innocence, and it drove Remus mad.

What else drove him mad was just how needy you became. You’d seek him out almost daily for some sort of touch. Whether it was for you, for him, or both of you, you wanted it. And you wanted it badly. Though the two of you agreed to keep what went on a secret from the rest of your friends, you sometimes were not the best at subtle hints. You would whisper to him how much you needed him and that was it. Who was he to deny you anyway? A lot changed in a short time, except for one thing.

The ring.

That stupid gold band remained on your finger through all of it. However, Remus would never say anything about it. He would never pressure you to go further, no matter how much he wished to. Because, despite the circumstances that brought the two of you together, he really did care about you. You were funny, sweet, and incredibly kind. What was there not to like? Your beauty spoke for itself, as did your inexperience. He would wait for you however long, or if you decided you never wanted to go all the way he wouldn’t care. You had more control over him than you knew.

“Rem...”

Your voice brought him back to reality. He hadn’t realized how through his thoughts he kept going. You were practically dripping; your arousal covered his chin. Without a second thought, he wet two of his fingers and gently thrust them inside you, only adding to the shakiness of your legs.

When you were done, he was quick to pull his head from under your skirt and look up at you. As he imagined, your face was bright red. But instead of your eyes being shut as they typically were, you looked down at him. There was a wildness in your eyes that he hadn’t seen before, like a mixture of confidence and something else he couldn’t name. It entranced him.

“You’re mad,” you mumbled as you began to fix your skirt and panties.

Remus chuckled. “Yeah, a bit.” He stood, not looking away from you for even a second. “But a lot for you.”

You smiled and looked away, your shyness returning. “Sure. So do you want to go back first or shall I?”

“You can, I have to go to the library anyway,” he answered. He also had to wait a few minutes for his boner to go away, but he wasn’t going to tell you that.

“Alright.” You ran your fingers through your hair and smoothened your uniform. “Do I look normal?”

“You look beautiful,” he said. He tucked a piece of hair behind your ear. “You are beautiful.”

You were clearly flustered at his compliment, it was adorable. “Um thank you, I’ll um see you later then yeah?”

“Yeah, see you later,” he replied.

You gave him one last smile before exiting the closet, checking both ways before doing so. Remus leaned against the wall and sighed. He really was starting to like you, and he didn’t know if that was a good thing. Relationships were never of much interest to him, he always thought they took too much effort and time away from things that actually mattered. You already consumed most of his thoughts, and you took up a decent amount of his time. For once, he didn’t know what to make of the situation. Except for one thing.

The closer the two of you got, the closer he was to getting that ring off your finger.

A smile formed on his lips.

~~~

One afternoon as the two of you sat in History of Magic together listening to Professor Binns’s long lecture about one of the Giant wars, Remus decided to test your limits.

You shared a desk in the back, Lily and Mary were in front of you. Remus glanced around the room to make sure no one was paying attention. As he expected, half the class was almost asleep, and the other half was doodling on their notes or whispering with their partners. He then looked at you. Your head was perched up on your hand, your eyes fighting to stay open. It made his chest fill with excitement.

Casually, as if he were doing nothing wrong, he placed one of his hands on your knee. Instantly your eyes opened and turned to him. He pretended not to notice, though he watched your posture change from his peripheral vision. He kept his head forward as he began to slowly creep his hand up your thigh. He moved his hand under your skirt, the feeling of your warm skin a familiar comfort.

“Remus,” you whispered his name like a warning.

As his fingertips brushed against your panties, he turned to you and lifted a finger to his lips, silently telling you to be quiet. Much to his surprise, you didn’t push him away. You only nodded your head and pretended to turn your attention back to the lecture. He slipped his fingers under your panties and found you were already wet.

Dirty girl, he thought as he began to touch you.

~~~

The fateful day came not too long after that day. Truthfully, though he had been trying to build up to it for at least a month or two, he didn’t expect it. When you first told him about what the ring symbolized, you were set on following the rules. Other guys had tried to fuck you before, he knew that, and you told him about that. So, what was different about him? Was it because the two of you had been friends since first year? Or was it because he was simply the first boy who truly tried? You were more of a mystery than he expected.

On the special day or night, Remus snuck you up to his dorm. It was during the celebration of Gryffindor winning the quidditch cup which meant no one would be in the dorm until very late, if ever. The two of you had a few drinks, but not enough to make either of you drunk. He had even convinced you to take a hit from his cigarette. Though you coughed terribly, he still thought you looked very attractive. The air that night felt different, even to him, perhaps that’s why you finally decided you wanted to go all the way.

“Did you see Sirius?” You laughed after the two of you entered the dorm. “He was starting to pour body shots.”

“He’s celebrating, let him live,” he replied with a smile.

You fell back onto his bed, and your laughter continued. He made sure to cast an extra locking spell on the door before he moved to the bed and laid down next to you. You instantly turned on your side, propped yourself up on your elbow, and stared down at him, that wild look back in your eyes.

“What’s your game then Lupin,” you said.

He looked at you confused. “What do you mean?”

“With me. I mean, we’ve known each other since we were eleven, we’ve hung around the same people, but we were never that close. Then suddenly like two months ago, you offered to have sex with me. What’s the reason?” You looked away for a few seconds. “I just... I don’t understand where it came from that’s all.”

Remus Lupin was never one who typically got stumped on a question, but at that moment he was. What was he supposed to say exactly? That he had always wondered why you wore that ring and when he found out what it was for, he wanted to see if he could get it from you? That he had become obsessed with your innocence? Neither would work, he knew that. So, he settled on the third option.

“I dunno, honestly. Why did you take me up on the offer? Or well, part of the offer.”

Once he said the words aloud, he realized how awful they sounded. He observed your face, waiting for a frown to form to indicate that you were upset. But it never came. You only gently smiled and shrugged.

“I dunno either.” You placed your hand on his chest, your left one. He watched you drag your fingers up and down his body, the ring like a painful reminder of what hadn’t happened. “But I think... I think I’m ready to take you up on the full offer.”

His eyes widened. “What?”

“I know I said I didn’t plan on doing that and I’m completely contradicting myself, and I’m going against my family and my religion but I... As you said, people do it all the time and it’s normal. If you don’t want to, I understand,” you answered. Even through the dark, he could see your blush. Merlin how he loved it.

“Why would I not want to? I should be asking you that,” he replied, trying his best to keep a neutral face despite how excited he was.

“It can be intimidating, right? To be someone's first. I don’t want you to think it has to be some special big thing because it’s not. In my head, I used to think it was supposed to be all that but after starting this with you I sorta realized I don’t care for special I just you know... want it to be with you. And don’t feel pressured or anything, I’m not going to ask to be your girlfriend or any of that. I- sorry, I’m saying too much again, aren’t I?”

Remus gave you a gentle smile and took your hand in his. “No, you’re not saying too much. Actually, you’re saying about the right amount. If that’s all what you truly feel, then I’d be more than happy to oblige. But I need to know, you’re positive. What we’ve been doing is wonderful and I enjoy it very much, but if that’s all you want, we can keep it that way. I know it was special to you to wait for marriage and if that’s not the case anymore great, but I need to know you’re sure of it.”

“I am sure, I promise. I’ve been wanting to for a while, but I wanted to be sure and now I am, do you want to?” You asked shyly.

“Very much,” he said with a laugh.

“Then um... we should... right?”

“You want to right now?”

You bit down on your lip for a few seconds and nodded. “Yeah... unless you want to wait.”

“I think we’ve waited long enough,” he replied.

He was quick to kiss you. He was quick to climb over you. He was quick to undress you. But he took his time pleasing you. Despite what you said, he wanted it to be at least a bit special. So, he took his time, making you finish at least twice with his tongue and fingers before even beginning to move on to the other part.

As he slipped a rubber on, he couldn’t help but feel a bit guilty. If you knew the only reason, he started all of this was some sort of challenge, would you have still let him do what he was about to do? Probably not. He had feelings for you then, of course. But it would be a lie to say he did the entire time. His eyes searched your face. You were so sweet, so delicate, so innocent. And he was about to take it away.

“You’re still sure?” He asked as he moved between your legs again. His question had a far deeper meaning than you would ever know.

“Yes,” you answered, your breath still heavy from your last orgasm. “I want you.”

He positioned himself so his tip was touching your entrance. “Alright, but if it’s too much tell me.”

“I will.”

He connected your lips and ever so slowly began to push himself inside you. Even though you were very wet, you were still very tight. Remus’s breath caught in his throat as he entered you. You felt better than any girl he’d ever been with, and he was sure of it. Despite just how good it felt, he paused halfway to make sure you were still all right. Your face was scrunched up, a telltale sign that you were in pain, but you told him to keep going. Still, he double-checked before continuing.

After checking once more when he was fully in, he truly began to shag you. From the moans and whispers that left your lips, he knew you enjoyed it. It made him glad; he didn’t want you to be in pain. You wrapped your legs around his waist and dragged one of your hands down his back, your nails reassuring him just how much you were enjoying it. He laced his hand through your other one and held it against the mattress, the cold feeling of your ring making his lips turn up into a smirk.

What good was it doing then?

“Rem,” you whimpered. “God Rem.”

He looked down at you and noticed you had tears in your eyes. “Do you... want me to slow down?”

“No, please don’t, please don’t,” you replied. “It’s so good.”

“Anything for you love,” he whispered, his breathing hard.

He rested his forehead on yours and continued as long as he could, which wasn’t as long as he would’ve wanted. How was he supposed to last long though? You were so warm, so soft, and extremely tight. The second you began pulsating around him, it was over. He came so hard he lost control of himself, his body collapsed on yours. For a few seconds he swore he couldn’t breathe, his eyes were squeezed shut. But he composed himself as best as he could and moved off you to throw the condom away.

When it was done, he laid back down next to you and pulled his sheets over your naked bodies. The realization hit him. You were no longer a virgin, and he was the reason. A sense of pride filled his chest, but along with that was a feeling of compassion. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close.

“How do you feel?” He asked.

“Aside from sore, nothing. It’s so strange, I always thought it would be a monumental moment in my life but it’s not. I’m still the same,” you answered.

He nodded. “I’m glad. So, you don’t feel any regret or anything?”

“No, do you?”

“Of course not, why would I ever regret shagging you?” He laughed.

You softly chuckled and looked up at him, your face red. “Sorry, that was stupid.”

“The sex or what I said?”

“What you said,” you replied. You turned your head and lifted your hands, a strange look on your face. “I suppose it’s time to take this off.”

“Oh, right,” he said, pretending to not care.

You pulled the ring off your finger and turned back to him, a smile on your face. “This belongs to you now, though I think I should take it home with me once summer comes. You know, so my parents don’t freak out.”

Remus took the ring from you, an indescribable feeling forming inside him. After everything, it was finally his. He’d imagined this moment many times, but never did he imagine just how victorious it would feel. The ring belonged to him now, his eyes shifted, and so did you. He placed it on his nightstand and smiled.

“I’m honored, thank you.”

You pressed yourself closer to him. “Out of every boy here Remus you’re the only one who deserves it, thank you.”

He placed a kiss on your head before falling back on the mattress, his eyes finding the ring once again.

He won.

~~~

The next day, despite still having agreed to keep things secret and unofficial, Remus did something that said the opposite of your relationship. He got ready for the day like normal, except for two aspects. One, he had to hold Sirius’s hair back as he threw up in the toilet from his hangover. And two, he wore a chain over his shirt and tie. It wasn’t just a chain though. No. It was a chain that had your ring dangling on it. He wore it like a prize, one for everyone to see.

He made his way down to the great hall for breakfast with a swing in his step and a small smile on his lips despite Sirius’s nagging to go back to bed. When he entered the great hall, he kept a straight face. Even when he caught your wide eyes, even when he heard Mary and Lily’s loud gasps, and even when James started to question him.

“You shagged y/n?” He questioned. “I didn’t even know the two of you were close. When did this happen?”

Remus only shrugged. “I dunno what you mean.”

It wasn’t until later in the day during History of Magic that he finally got a chance to speak to you. He felt a bit off as it was noticeable how uncomfortable you were sitting next to him. Lily and Mary gave him odd looks, almost as if they were disappointed in him. He didn’t care for their opinions though, yours was the only one that mattered.

“Hey,” he said after a minute or two. “How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” you replied, not turning your head in his direction.

“Are you still sore?” He asked, his voice quieter. He glanced around the room, a few pairs of eyes were on the two of you, but none that had any real value. Still, he found it strange they were looking.

“Yeah, but it’s nothing I can’t handle,” you answered.

He didn’t exactly know what to say. “Great.”

“Yeah.”

An awkward silence filled the air, Remus didn’t know what to make of it. You were acting differently. Were you regretting what happened? He didn’t think you did, at least, you hadn’t made any specific indicators that you did. Suddenly, his eyes fell to the chain around his neck and the realization hit him. You were uncomfortable because of the ring being on display. He felt terrible. Without another thought on it, he tucked the chain under his shirt, the cold temperature of it comforting in a way against his warm chest. Then, he looked back at you.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his words genuine.

You bit down on your lip, your eyes still locked on the front of the classroom. “I- I don’t know what you’d have to be sorry for.”

“The ring I... I should’ve asked first before wearing it like this. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry for springing it on you like I did, really y/n I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable,” he explained.

“It’s fine.” You shifted. “But now... not everyone knows. And I... I don’t know.”

“Yes, you do. You can tell me how you feel y/n, I would never tell anyone or judge you.” And it was true, he never would. He cared about you, more than he initially thought.

You finally turned your head to look at him. Your expression spoke for itself. You were hurt. It made something in his chest twist. “I suppose that I liked this being just... ours.”

“It still can be.”

“Can it? I mean, it feels like everyone knows now. Lily and Mary know, I assume James, Sirius, and Peter do as well. I hate the attention.” You fumbled with your fingers. “Did you... tell them anything?”

“No, nothing,” he answered. “Have you?”

“I just told Lily and Mary that nothing happened and that it was a coincidence. But... I don’t think they believe me,” you mumbled in a tone they couldn’t possibly have heard.

He licked his lips and sighed. “Then we’ll just both deny it, they can’t prove anything. I’ll keep the ring hidden and we don’t have to keep doing anything.”

Your face changed. “Oh. You don’t... you don’t want to anymore?”

“No, I do, but I thought you didn’t want to. Do you still want to?” There was hope in his voice. He assumed you wanted to be done, based on your body language at least. But the way you looked at him then spoke otherwise.

“I mean... yeah if that’s okay,” you said shyly, your cheeks turning red.

Ah, right again.

He couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips. “So, we will, it’s settled.”

“It is.”

Victory was a good feeling. You were finally his. His to taint, his to please, his to use. He touched a hand to his chest and felt the ring through the fabric of his shirt. It felt good. Very good. And who knows, perhaps one day you'd be his girlfriend.

He looked down at you.

You probably would be his girlfriend.

He smiled again.

~~~

@misacc08 @whotfskai

[volumebaixo]

★ Frank Doodles ★

Come get your dinner Rocky Horror fandom!

(note at the end)

I have this really fun HC that Frank is a vampire alien in somekind (that's kinda half-cannon because of that cancelled sequel so I'M NOT DELUSIONAL OK I'M NOT CRAZY-) plus he has piercings... Yeah that's it. I'll draw a full body soon but to me he's like 1,60m tall and uses high heels to be taller lol

Also his jacket i totally re-designed It because of... Reasons... It was bothering me a lot so i made It all very punk. also i enjoy playing around with the makeup phases, so in the next art you'll notice that the "fade-out" is more of a "fade-in" because he's trying to... Keep it cool..? IDK How to explain, english isn't my first language lol

But yeah, in my HC he kinda changes his makeup inbetween the scenes to match his humor idk

Well this is something my friends called me crazy and told me i am inventing stuff BUT I'M NOT, OKAY??? THIS IS REAL. On the Dinner scene, when Riff and Magenta serve wine/juice to the guests, They ALL have fancy cups, BUT only Columbia is served correctly, the other guests (Brad, Janet, Rocky, Dr. Scott) are served on the WRONG cups, so in my head that's a passive-agressive posture idk i think it's really funny lmao i don't care If this isn't the case i love to think about It 💅

Also in addition to being served in the wrong cup, the wine/juice is also watery okay, he's evil

Note: Hello again i made some doodles of Frank in different scenes and pointed out some small headcannons i have!! And ofc bonus doodle of murder lab moment because i hate the first art i posted of It hahaha

[werecreature-addicted]

My absolutely favorite wrinkle about The Reader and Caesar's relationship is when you posted about them staying together in the future. He just mellowed out with getting older and conveniently forgets the more toxic and situation parts of their relationship.

I just love seeing a happy ending to the steamy kinky sex they have now

I like to think that Ceaser brags about his cute little human spouse constantly but calls them things like "the old ball and chain" to like... play it cool almost and try to convince people he isn't as whipped as he is. he tries to make it sound condescending and mean but he just can't it's like

"yeah the old hag made me breakfast in the morning- they're so thoughtful and kind it makes me fall in love with them all over again," You're not fooling anyone idiot everyone knows you have a soft spot for your spouse, get a grip and call them darling like a normal person.

He shows up to work an hour late and soaking wet because it was raining and your car blew a tire so he made himself late and changed it for you. BUT he called you annoying and bitched the whole time so in his mind it evens out. he's not shown emotion and weakness yet hahaha.

Could you prove in a court of law that he loves you? no. Can everyone tell he does? yeah.

ofc this is all after years of his annoying aggressive fuck boy stage.

[boigyu]

hiiiiiii so uh i lowkey stalked ur whole page cuz ur writing is amazing and i wanted to ask if u could do an older brother soobin fic or a reader x soobin fic if that's okay. Hes by bias.

Love ur work and will def follow u <3

BF TEXTS WITH SOOBIN <33

pairing! non-idol!soobin x gn!reader

genre! texts, fluff, crack, college setting

warning! swearing, reader gets sick 😞💔, both reader and soobin yapping, mentions of cheating (none of them cheated), also little cameo from gyu

notes! hi lovely 🌹🌹 HAHAHA THANK YOU FOR LOVING MY WORKS, and ofc I can do an x reader fic for soobin, sorry that it's not older brother soobin lmao 😭 wanted to change things up. ALSO I DIDNT EVEN REALIZE IVE NEVER WRITTEN FOR SOOBIN, so here's one and my debut of bf texts!! enjoy ml

© boigyu 2024. don't plagiarize, steal or translate my work

[mirnilop]

𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling

⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence

♡ synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.

♡ word count: 5,310

⛧ﾐ‧*･ﾟ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ･ﾟ*‧ミ⛧

a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ･*･:≡(　ε:)

There’s a rose on your vanity.

The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!

Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.

Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.

“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”

Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.

A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.

“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”

Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”

When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.

“Are ya sure?”

“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”

She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”

“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”

After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.

“Promise ya’ll play nice?”

An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.

“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.

“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”

Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.

“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”

A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.

“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.

Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.

As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.

You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m heading out!”

“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”

“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you’re so close to the outside.

“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”

Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.

“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”

“You too!”

His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.

“Hi Howdy.”

“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.

Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.

When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.

The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.

Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.

With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.

“Mx.”

Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.

“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”

The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.

It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it’s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.

Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.

When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.

And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.

“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”

The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.

“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.

Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.

“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”

Don't have much of a choice, do I?

“I’d love to.”

Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.

Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.

“How could I forget?”

The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.

And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.

As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.

“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.

“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"

He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.

"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"

The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.

"It's alright, Barnaby."

The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.

"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.

"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"

"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."

You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.

"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."

Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.

"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."

Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.

"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."

Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.

“I knew because of your eyes.”

The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.

“Pardon?”

“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.

“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”

It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.

He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.

“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”

True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.

There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.

It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.

The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.

Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.

“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”

The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.

“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”

“I see…”

He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.

“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”

Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.

“A neck?”

At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?

“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.

Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.

“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."

No.

“Wh– what? Settle down how?”

“To get married, silly.”

You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!

“Get married? You mean– to me?!”

“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”

You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.

“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”

Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.

“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”

That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.

Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.

“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"

The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.

"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"

"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”

You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.

“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”

All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.

Oh shit.

The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.

You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.

“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”

Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.

“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”

With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.

It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.

Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.

[pamsimmerstories]

SAVE FILE - with all packs!

Guys, my baby is born hahaha

that's why I stopped posting. I was setting up this base save file for myself because I have this problem where I'm constantly starting a new save file and it drives me nuts to give townies makeovers all over again.

So I did it and I tried to added some basic lore to the basegame premades and added a few new townies (not much because I hate save files packed with sims I don't know haha)

And for some reason people like my sims, so I decided to share this save file with everyone, only with game content, besides skinblends and blushes on my sims (they are attached too in case you want your sims looking nice, but if you don't, you won't miss much. Your sims won't be bald or naked, don't worry)... the rest of the sims are just game content (I'm using all packs, no restriction).

Another thing I want to add to this is: I changed almost all lots from the earliers packs and also addded a few new ones so the sims have places to go. The builds ARE NOT MINE, I'm incapable to build (Only the Munches and Villareal's homes... that I built and I'm sorry). I placed my favorite builds there. I tried to not download heavier lots so everyone can add this to their game, but be aware that it might now run smoothly for everyone (you can just delete what you don't want :)). 

Honestly I didn't went crazy with sims families. I really want everyone to be able to enjoy this save file! I put a few families that are characters in my story (not premades) and created three new families and that's it. Because everytime I tried a new save file and there was a lot of sims and builds I got overwhelmed and never touched the save again (lol). So I really tried to make this good for you guys too!

I hope you like it!

Enjoy ♥

DOWNLOAD

patreon (free ofc!)

SFS

[hannie-dul-set]

who in enhypen would agree to platonically kiss you.

because i feel like i have to do this for every group i write, so expect me to word vomit a tubatu version soon after this one.

seventeen ver. / 127 ver. / dream ver.

heeseung: honestly you thought he'd agree without a second thought, but a smirk suddenly plays on his lips and he pulls out the "what if i don't want to? what are you gonna do?" and you'd rather die than have him bask in your mortification, so you turn around. run away. try to run away, but the bitch suddenly pulls you into his lap and oh. you can feel his breath on your lips. his grip is firm on your waist. you're actually about to fucking kiss him BUT— "ah. sorry. i changed my mind." | rating: 0/10 but maybe if u change ur tune from platonic to romantic, then he'd agree.

jay: "can i think about it first?" jay isn't one to jump into hasty decisions, especially one that can permanently change the trajectory of your ten year long friendship for better or for worse just so you can make some hairless bitch jealous. he thinks about it. he's thinking. he's thinking very hard about it, until one day he finally says okay "okay" "? okay what?" "let's make out" "??? jay i asked u that favor five months ago what do u—" | rating: 5/10 delayed but u got him?? to kiss u??? but??? now u have a new problem because park jongseong, what are we?

jake: he knows you kissed him at the party last night to get ur cheating ex off ur ass. he knows that and he was totally, 100% completely fine with it. he can totally pretend like nothing happened. absolutely. just doing a friend a favor. a buddy. a pal. a good 'ol mate. that is until exactly one month passes by and he suddenly says "oh damn haha happy kissmonthsary babe u have any more exes to drive away hahaha just asking haha." | rating: 8/10 you're sure a kissmonthsary doesn't exist, but how can u deny him when he's twiddling his fingers like a schoolgirl with a first crush.

sunghoon: flustered flustered flustered "i'm sorry? haha i mean ofc u want to kiss me who wouldn't hahhahaha anw ur joking right—" you aren't. sunghoon starts sweating and he's nervous and about to piss himself because if he says no, you're gonna think he's a LOSER (you already know he's a loser) a big fucking LOSER (sunghoon, you are a loser). | rating: 3/10 on the first try because the moment your lips touched he turned into stone. he may be a loser but he's a prideful loser so expect his score to increase with each try at his insistence.

sunoo: "hey sunoo, i need ur help. can i ki—" cue his aggressive side eye. cue the absolute look of disgust on his face at the mere insinuation that you want to kiss him without strings attached. how dare you. | rating: 1/10 because you did get to kiss him in the end. you did. but before that you had to ask permission from his parents (heeseung and jake), you had to meet his actual parents, you had to exchange vows at the altar, and— wait this isn't exactly platonic anymore isn't it?

jungwon: jokes on u jungwon orchestrated the whole thing that'll lead you to asking him. he gave you a lipstick as birthday present and he's like "sorry haha i'm not sure if it's a good one the saleslady said it doesn't smudge but idk." there it goes. seed planted. all that's left is for you to ask him if he....wants to help u test it out.....yanno.....as friends. and before you know it the red tint is now smudged between your lips and his, smiling victoriously into your mouth because yes. his plan worked. | rating: 10/10 because you suddenly have a dozen new lip products and "hey. should we test if these also smudge or not?"

ni-ki: "oh sure. go ahead." he agrees to it SO easily that you suspicious, eyes narrowed, but you set it aside for now and lean closer to his face but WOOSH. he's swerved away. "riki stay still, what are u—" WHOOSH. he's five steps away. you see the look on his face. the shit eating grin saying, if you wanna kiss me, come and get it and oh it's on, nishimura. | rating: 2/10 because you end up chasing him all over the parking lot and jake asked if he can join your game of tag.

[rainystressed247]

Hi rainy, what is you favourite artwork or AU you have created?

Hi void! Oh oh my fav artwork has actually not being posted before but you all have seen it through my pfp hahaha. I said to myself that I will post it after I created something that I am more proud of, which… I mean after almost a year of gatekeeping, I might as well just share.

As of my favourite au, it is hard to say tbh. It can change depending on my mood but I will say most of my AU I like but I especially like syndicate!dream, and any variation of little Dream I have created (kindergartenrivals au, sunshine verse, Dream’s best friend, the bunny and the axolotl) and ofc all the pretty Dream I have created…which ahem, is like most of them hahaha.

That being said, I want to share another one that I am really proud of. The design of which I inherited from Nae when she decided to leave the fandom (the honour!!!) Thank you for joining in on this journey with me!

[frogboy0]

OKAY!!!!!!! TEENAGE CHARLIE (Going by Charlotte at this point still)

FEATURING A MORNINGSTAR FAMILY PORTRAIT‼️‼️‼️‼️

So I know everyone and their mother thinks Charlie being an emo teenager is HILARIOUS (just me? Ok) BUT I think, at least in this sorta rewrite/reimagining, it can be tweaked.

From what we've seen from the little of Charlie's backstory, she's never been.... BAD. Like, I understand she's not a bad person but what made her believe that people could change???? What was her reason for thinking that???

And what better proof could she have than herself!!??

(and ofc maybe the show DOES have an explanation as to why she thinks the way she does but I think the best reason for her to believe that people, more specially SINNERS, could change is if she HERSELF had changed!!)

More explanation on teenage Charlotte and some other stuff under the cut in case you don't wanna hear my rambling hahaha

So what I imagine is that Charlie didn't start going by Charlie until AFTER she decided to make a change for herself.

So Charlotte Morningstar is the only child of the Devil, Lucifer and the first woman, Lilith, as well as the sole heir to the throne of Hell.

And she was a total sleazebag.

She did all kinds of drugs and partook in all of the Hellish virtues that eternal donation had to offer, that also includes the infamous hunting trips that she and Lucifer would go on together (as mentioned in this post)

She was aggressive, violent and unfaithful. I imagine that Charlotte was a total shit ass kid who got into trouble all the time (which was basically encouraged by Lucifer and so long as she did what Lilith told her when it came to meeting advisors and ruling, Lilith didn't care how she was either)

Charlotte still dated Seviathan like in canon. I wanted to lean into the Eldritch part of his name but something that isn't too complicated LOL, so I made him have a whole bunch of mouths all over him (his right eyes, his ears, and there's a LOAD more that are just usually covered up by his clothes). He's like a mouth themed vampire-demon thing to me <3

He's pretty arrogant and mean, a huge jerk like Charlotte, that's why they were together. They were both really similar at the time and just enabled each other's bad and violent behaviors.

Then eventually Charlotte realized that hurting people and being super evil was NOT GOOD and began to change. (This change is noticed in her physical appearance (no longer showing her horns) and starting to go by Charlie :)

This caused a LOT of rifts and tension between her, her parents and peers tbh (this was expanded on in this post)

And have a little bonus for humoring me with my insanity.

I think once it's revealed that Vaggie was an exorcist angel, Charlie's gonna fucking FLIP (obviously). Her biggest reason is still how it was in canon, how Vaggie had lied to her and kept the whole thing a secret BUT!!!!!

She's also gonna feel conflicted BECAUSE she ALSO did bad in her past and she doesn't wanna look like a hypocrite if she's crucifying Vaggie for doing the same! But she's mad! But she also did bad!!! She's just gonna be super mixed up and conflicted and confused LOL