#but this might be fun to work on a bit...

[yanderenightmare]

♡ TW: nsfw, noncon, piercings, sex-trafficking, reader has big breasts...

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about being a sociopathic billionaires sex-trafficked dungeon whore…

You’re his cheap slut—his dirty little secret he keeps down in his filthy basement under lock and key. He might go on boring dates with boring gold-digging prudes to maintain appearances, but even as he fucks them, he’ll roll his eyes at their fake moans, trying to block it out and imagine you—and how he knows you’re waiting for him at home, like a pet.

He’s got intense fetishes—pierced your tits, belly button, tongue, nose, clit, and labia on the first day of your imprisonment. Your nose hook is a ring big enough to fit his cock through when he fucks your throat. Your tongue has a whole of five silver bells and a sixth ring at the very tip, which he often hooks up to a chain so he can lead you around like a panting bitch in heat instead of using a boring old collar.

No, he likes keeping your neck free so he can grip it himself, hard enough to leave his mark on the skin—fresh bruises every new day. He keeps your nipples on a shared leash anyway, so he has plenty of things to yank if he wants to, which he does.

Instead of keeping you chained by your ankle, he keeps you chained by your clit. The chain is skinny and could probably be broken if ripped hard enough, but you wouldn’t dare—any harsh movement feels as though your poor pearl is being pulled off. And with your arms in a harness behind your back, there’s not much left to do but lie there on the sweaty, sex-drenched mattress and wait for your captor to return.

And he does—every day—without fault.

When he comes downstairs, you greet him with your tongue out, nuzzling your face against his crotch just like a puppy, licking him through the fabric of his italian suit until it’s bulbous and fat and dripping with your drool. You never talk unless spoken to, but you always keep your mouth open—it’s the law—if his cock isn’t down your throat, then your tongue should be hanging out and begging for it. 

He has a lot of laws. You’re only allowed to walk around on all fours. You never go upstairs. And your cunt is never empty—if it isn’t hosting his fat erection, it’s cumming and crying around the thrums of a thick egg instead, always keeping you slick and sensitive for his return.

He's a fan of plugging all your holes, especially after a rough day of work. He’ll lay you on your belly against the cool concrete floor, tied up all snug, only able to wiggle as he stuffs your cunt with the fattest dildo in the collection, your other hole with another, before straping the longest one down your throat, just to have you struggle.

Listening to your whimper is how he winds down. Meanwhile, he goes and does something else, such as playing a round of pool between himself and a glass of scotch while laying bets on whatever sport’s showing on the TV—not for the sake of winning, it’s all small millions, just for a bit of fun.

Your pussy is the absolute best. It even has his name on it—tattooed upon the mound in pretty cursive letters like you were custom-designed for him. You basically were—he spent hours browsing through pictures and samples before stopping at you, his perfect little cock-toy.

“Do you wanna be bred or fed, little whore?” he rasps against your ear, fucking your tight wet cunt hard enough for it to squelch with slick, all but streaming down your thighs along with sweat.

You think you’re a very slim step away from comatose—it’s already been a long game of passing in and out. You haven’t been able to stand for a while, but he keeps you upright between himself and the wall, letting you rest with your cheek smushed up against the cool concrete as the only thing keeping you stable, except from his ruthless manhandling, keeping you on your feet even as your knees shake and buckle.

You’re so light-headed—he doesn’t feed you nearly enough to sustain the activity he puts you through. Actually, he doesn’t feed you enough to sustain any amount of activity at all. But you suppose that’s part of the fun—keeping you dull and weak and pliant, desperate to please in the hopes he’ll have mercy. Anything will do, anything at all—scraps, crumbs, cum.

“Fed,” you pant weakly in answer, to which he chuckles breathlessly.

Simpering at your ear with a toothy grin. “Of course, you do—” He gropes both breasts in his ringed hands, kneading them up like dough as he steadily ruts against you—balls smacking hard and heavily against your clit. “Gotta keep these fat tits plump and juicy for me, right?”

Everything is numb and sore—even breathing is consuming too much energy. You can only rejoice that it’s all going to be over soon, agreeing to his vile words all too sweetly, “Yes, master—”

He coos at you—why would he want any pearl-necked blouse-wearing preppy cunt over you, his perfectly house-trained slut.

“C’mere and say ah, slut—and I’ll give you a nice warm mouthful.” He pulls you down to the ground, on your knees with your back against the wall, his fist in your hair holding your head back while you roll out your tongue.

Groaning when he starts spurting, “That’s it, my needy little cum-junkie—swallow it all.” 

There’s always a hint of psychotic glee to his rambles, something just short of frantic. 

“Waste a drop, and you’ll lick it up off the floor.” Oh, you know. And so you make sure to wait until all of it’s out before swallowing. 

Your tongue is no stranger to his body or its tastes. Whether it be the sweat off his ballsack or the dried piss off his cockhead—you lick him clean—suck his toes as you massage his sore feet, lip his armpits, but most importantly this—drinking his cum and cherishing every drop of it. Your sole food source…

“Good bitch.”

This is what being rich is all about—warding his very own dungeon where he trains his very own little sex slave.

He washes you every day. Making thorough work of it. Fingering all your holes as deep as he can reach with soap and oil, even your mouth. Treating you just as if you were a real plastic blow-up doll. 

It’s the most intimate relationship he’ll ever have.

♡ BNHA – Bakugou, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks ♡ JJK – Sukuna, Naoya, Geto, Gojo, ♡ HQ – Tsukishima, Kuro, Sakusa, Atsumu ♡ BLLK – Reo, Sae

♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist

[very-merry-birthday]

Lust

Summary: Dean can't think straight when you're around, wanting nothing more than a moment alone with you, but when a case brings you to a church, can he keep his hands off?

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected sex, Religious imagery, Sex in a church, biblical slut shaming?... Everything that comes with Dean dressed as a priest.

Dean eyed you carefully as you straightened out Sam's clerical collar, biting your bottom lip in concentration.

Normally by this time he'd already have fucked you once, maybe twice even, all noise and skin and hedonistic pleasure. It didn't matter that you were barely ever in the same state, both of you hunting all over the country, whenever you landed in the same place, he knew you would be up for some fun. He wasn't completely sure what you were. Fuck-buddy seemed too crass, booty-call too casual, friend with benefits too... Friendly. All he knew was when a hunt put you in the same city, you would call him to whatever outdated motel you'd found yourself in, and he'd come running.

Except this time. Because this time you'd both promised Sam you'd be on your best behavior until the hunt was done.

It wasn't like you hadn't hunted together before. In fact that's one of the things he enjoyed most about his time with you, the way you'd cut through a vampires neck without missing a beat, or exorcise a demon without a second thought. But normally that would end with a fuck in the back seat of the Impala, or a blowjob so mind blowing he'd still be jacking off to the thought months later.

Ever since Sam caught wind of how distracted Dean was getting, though, he'd be trying to tell you both to back off, cool it for a few days until the hunt was done. When he'd phoned you, telling you him and Dean were in the area, that they had a case you might be interested in, you'd agreed to his conditions easily, your mind fixed on the hunt. Dean was more difficult to persuade, the idea of seeing you and not immediately taking you back to his motel room so you could moan his name for hours on end being incomprehensible.

And he'd turned out to be right- kind of. While you seemed to be holding up okay, his need for you was causing more distraction than actual sex ever did.

"Dean-" Sam clicked his fingers in front of his brother's face, "-are you even paying attention?"

He blinked hard, trying to clear his thoughts, "Yeah- uh- what?"

"She asked if you're ready to go?"

Dean looked at you again, biting your bottom lip in a smile, knowing you'd caught him out.

"Yeah, I'm ready..."

You walked over to him, smoothing out the creases on the shoulders of his black shirt, the feeling of your hands rippling over him making him hold his breath. You took another look at both of them, a grin from ear to ear, "You two look positively virtuous."

That's more than could be said of your outfit, a short white dress that Dean couldn't work out if you genuinely thought made you look innocent or you were only wearing to rile him up. The truth was a bit of both, having chosen something you knew would help you fit in with the church going congregation while also giving Dean, who spent more time looking at your legs than your face, something to gawk at. Of course, he didn't know you'd opted not to wear any underwear either, conscious that he'd have to break sooner or later.

You smoothed out your dress, trying to keep your secrets to yourself as you all climbed into the Impala, just three devotees on their way to Sunday church.

Dean couldn't focus on anything else but you in the rearview mirror. Even as you and Sam spoke, your minds on the case, building a plan step by step, he didn't pay any attention. Instead he thought back to the last time he'd had you in the Impala, a hunt down in Georgia that left you both desperate for release. He'd made out with you for hours, savouring your taste as the windows had steamed up, hiding you away from the world.

"What I don't understand-" You were looking directly at him in the mirror now, coaxing him out of his distant state, "-is how either of you think you're going to get away with pretending to be priests."

"I know my fair share of Latin, darlin'." He laughed, looking back towards the road.

"Do you know anything about the bible though?"

"Enough to be convincing."

By the time you got to the church your plan was fully formed. They'd act as visiting priests, how they managed to pull those strings you had no clue, while you'd go in as part of the flock, all of you seeking out as much information as you could, as quickly as you could.

Dean let you out around the corner, to avoid any suspicion, and almost called the whole thing off as he watched you walk away from the car, your dress looking even more scandalous from behind. Sam swatted his arm to focus him again, and they drove off to fulfill their part of the plan.

Your life as a hunter consisted mainly of having to get people to like you enough to spill secrets, and as soon as you turned the corner and saw the group of old women gathering outside the church, you knew this would be no different.

You assimilated quickly, making up an excuse for your newness easily: "My Grandmother is just so sick I couldn't stand the idea of her being alone in a different state. But my goodness, I couldn't miss church even for one week, I just had to come here!" That seemed to soften them up, and they quickly started letting you in on the gossip. You weren't sure any of it was particularly useful to the case, but you had to admit it was fun hearing about Brenda's daughters date mishap, and how the mailman had knocked up Sandra's sister.

As you made your way towards the pews you made sure to sit next to a lady in a lime green dress who seemed to be the most loose lipped of them all. You relaxed into the hard wood as the mass began, the only thing on your mind being the hope that the boys were making better progress than you. You kept an eye out around the room for them as the priest spoke, unable to spot them anywhere, suggesting either they'd managed to hide themselves away successfully, or they'd never even made it in the church.

As you reached the 45 minute mark, you finally saw him. Dean, tucked into the side of the church, biting his lip nervously. You tried to catch his eye, but his were firmly fixed on the front, lost in thought. You couldn't deny how good he looked in his mock-priest outfit, the black shirt only extenuating his solid figure, his shoulders wrapped tight, and the collar- well from the second he'd put it on you couldn't think of anything else.

"And now, visiting from St. John's church," the priest was looking over at Dean, focusing your mind back on the room, "I invite Father Rose to come up here and speak to you all today."

As you watched Dean walk up to the front of the room, all eyes on him, you could only imagine what situation they'd got themselves in for him to have to do this. You could picture them both scrambling, the stuttered excuses. You hoped this meant Sam was somewhere getting the answers you needed. Dean just needed to stay as congruent as possible.

"Lust!"

So much for not standing out.

"What is lust?" He spoke calmly, gently, almost- sensually. You knew he'd spotted you, but he was avoiding any eye contact as he looked around the room. "It's desire. Passion. Yearning."

You pushed together your already crossed legs. This wasn't fair - Dean was never fair. His lingering looks, his hand brushing over your skin. But this was something else. You felt a coil forming in your core as his silky voice filled the space.

"The bible warns us of lust. Warns us that we must flee from the sin, no matter how much we want our desires filled. And you may be desperate for it. Desperate to be filled over, and over, and over."

You glanced around the room. You couldn't tell if anyone else was hearing his double entendres, but all your new friends seemed just as enamored as you.

"I must admit, I have fallen for the sin of lust before. I have lusted for desires of the flesh. But what does the bible say? For the desires of the flesh are against the Spirit, and the desires of the Spirit are against the flesh."

You really wished he'd stop saying flesh.

"And desires of the flesh are merely superficial. They're messy, and indecent and... Confusing."

You never expected Dean to be describing your relationship, or lack thereof, as confusing. After all he was the one always lauding just how simple it was. You could tell he was padding for time now.

"But we must flee from temptation. The temptations of pleasure, of indulgence, of self gratification. For the Bible tells us," he turned to look directly at you now, punching the air from your lungs as his jaw tensed for a moment before continuing, "that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart."

You had to admit he sounded like he knew what he was talking about.

"Because you can commit the sin of lust even with your eyes. With only your eyes you can still caress, still touch, still... Taste."

Even he knew he was pushing the metaphor.

"I want everyone now to close their eyes and sit with me in this moment of thought. Please, think of a moment you have lusted, when your desires have been too much to bare, think of those moments now."

You kept your eyes open, fixed firmly on him. Only once he was certain everyone else had closed theirs did his face break character, a grin. You shook your head gently, he could tell you were amused even if you were trying to look stern. He shot you a wink, both of you minds filled with every moment you'd had together, naked, sweaty, moaning.

"And if everyone could once again open their eyes for me..."

You weren't even listening anymore, your thoughts placed firmly on him, on his lips.

It took you a moment to realize he was now walking away again, clearly his homily was over. Your new friend leant down, poking you with an elbow, "Well wasn't he just a tall drink of water."

"I'm not sure he's quite my type." You smiled at her, warmth over your face hiding your exasperation.

"Well why don't you go speak to him, you're both new to the Church after all."

You tightened you jaw, looking over at where he now stood, "You know what, I think I just might."

The moment the service was over you shuffled out of the pew, your mind fixed firmly on one thing. You made your way over to him, his eyes on your body as you walked to the front. Clearly, many other members of the congregation had the same idea, a small group now talking in front of him and their priest. You pushed through gently, meeting Dean's eye.

"That was an enlightening talk, Father." You smiled at him, all innocence.

"Thank you." His jaw tightened, the shoe was on the other foot now.

"It really gave me so much to think about. I'd love to hear more about your thoughts on sin, on how we can truly come together to resist such a wicked thing."

The small huddle turned to him, expectantly. He coughed gently, clearing his throat, "You know it's just such an interesting topic. Why don't you take a walk with me and we can discuss this further."

He placed his hand on the small of your back, pulling you away from the tangle of other people; clearly this was a demand, not a request.

The second you were out of sight his lips were on yours, his hands desperate and frenzied, grabbing at your jaw, the back of your head, your waist.

You broke away from his kiss, looking at him with as much purity as you could muster, "We can't, Dean, we promised." Your words didn't stop your hands, which were now tugging at the bottom of his shirt, trying to get to his abdomen.

He pushed his face into the crook of your neck, "Sam's not here, sweetheart, please I'm desperate."

"Not here, it's too public, it's a church for God's sake!" But your hand came up to the back of his head, pushing his mouth against your skin. You leant into him, breathing in the scent of cinnamon and motel soap.

He nestled into you, his lips pressed against you, sending fire through your body, "Follow me, I know a place."

He half guided, half dragged you through a twist of hallways that seemed far more modern than the church, clearly him and Sam had had enough time to get a simple understanding of the place. His hands were on your hips as you moved, mouth still messily attacking you any chance he got. He pushed you into a small space, barely any light filling it as you became aware of your surroundings.

"Dean, this is a confessional box."

"So?" His hand found your inner thigh, needy for you.

"It's not exactly private!"

"Be quiet then." He guided his hand up between your legs, expecting to be met with the resistance of fabric but instead finding you bare, "You- you're not wearing-"

"God, Winchester, you're getting too predictable." You rolled your eyes, pressing your lips against his once again as you fumbled with his belt buckle.

He pushed his fingers through your soaked folds, and you rewarded him with a moan as he sent waves of pleasure through you. Not wanting to waste any time, he pushed two fingers into you, thrusting hard as you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep yourself steady. You rolled your hips in time with his movements, pornographic sounds filling the small space.

He reached up with his other hand towards his collar, intending to release himself from it's hold, but you stopped him, grabbing his wrist with a stern look, "Keep it on."

He looked at you with amused surprise, pulling his fingers out of you and moving towards your clit, rubbing it gently with small circles, "Oh you've come here to worship?"

You bit your lip, unable to form any words.

"I'll give you something to worship. On your knees, sweetheart." He pulled his fingers away, pushing them against your lips as you sunk to his knees before him, making you taste yourself. He sat back, groaning at the image of you in front of him, his fingers lazily shoved in your mouth.

He pulled his own cock out, letting it spring free from his pants, giving it a few firm strokes as he looked down at you, your eyes firmly fixed on him. You leant forward, wrapping your lips around it's head as he rolled his head back with a groan. You pressed your tongue against his slit, the taste of his precum filling your mouth as you wrapped your hand around the base. He lifted his hand to the back of your head, holding you there as you lapped at his tip, beginning to move your hand, stroking his length.

"Fuck-" He had his eyes closed, his head pressed against the hard wood of the box as he swore through gritted teeth.

He pushed your head down lower and you let him fill your mouth, his cock pressing against the back of your throat as you swallowed him down. You bobbed your head gently, his length throbbing within you, his panting becoming strained as he got closer to the edge.

You choked on him, his hand pushing you lower. You let your fingers ripple down his abdomen, looking back up at him with wide eyes, his own gaze falling back on you as he bit his bottom lip hard.

"Come 'ere." He murmured, pulling you back off of him before he reached his peak.

You stood up, his hands reaching out to your waist, jerking you towards him. You hitched your dress up only slightly as you moved to straddle him, your lips crashing together once again as he lined his cock up with your entrance.

You sunk down onto him quickly, sucking in a breath at the feeling of him stretching you out. He groaned again as you began to roll your hips into him, his own body moving in time with yours to push himself as deep into you as he could.

You lent down, your mouth pressed against his ear, your voice a breathless whisper, "Forgive me Father... for I have sinned..."

He looked back at you with a wicked smile, one hand gripping your hip tighter as his other moved up to trace a thumb over your bottom lip, "Go on."

"It has been... too long since my last confession-"

He eyed your lips, his hunger for you evident.

"-These are my sins..." You wrapped your arms over his shoulders to keep yourself steady, "... I've lusted after you, I've - fuck- I've been tempted by you, and I'm only going to be tempted again... and again... and - Jesus- again."

You felt your climax rising as he pounded into you, keeping your rhythm steady with his grasp. He kissed you again, his mouth heavy and messy, open mouths panting into open mouths.

"For these and all my sins... I am- fuck I'm gonna come."

He chuckled lightly into you as you sped up your movements, holding his shoulders tight.

He pushed his mouth against your jaw, his breath hot against your skin, "You still on birth control?"

You panted against him, "-Yeah."

You kept your movements steady, both of your breaths thick against each other, fingers digging into one another's bodies. You could tell how desperate he was to come as you continued to grind against him, only holding out in the hope you'd crescendo together.

You bit down hard on your lip to hide your moan, your body quaking with pleasure as you pushed yourself to the edge. You came quickly, your body shaking, a wave of pleasure striking through you.

At the feeling of your pussy clenching around him he finally allowed himself to release, his seed spilling into you as you arched your back, letting him fill you. You pressed your face into his shoulder as both of your movements faltered, focused more on your pleasure than your rhythm. He gripped your hips tighter as gratification wracked his body.

You continued to move against each other slowly, your body slumping against him as you felt his load dripping out of you around his cock. You sat for a moment longer with him buried inside you before carefully sliding off of him, holding onto his shoulders to steady your shaking legs.

You felt his cum leaking down your inner thigh, dipping your fingers down between your legs to swipe the mixture of his juices and yours away, bringing it back to your lips and popping it in your mouth as he stared at you, his jaw hanging. You gave him another smile, pulling your fingers back out as you swallowed the taste down, biting your bottom lip.

He met your grin, his thumb holding your chin, "Fuckin' sinful."

You flattened out the bottom of your dress, trying to pull yourself together, suddenly regretting your lack of underwear. He stood, guiding you back out the booth as he rebuckled his belt.

Sam stood opposite, his jaw tight as he shook his head, staring you both down, "You're kidding me-"

[ser-rexasaur]

"Cheers"

happy pride, peoples!⭐️

cross - jakei

killer - rahafwabas

[so-i-did-this-thing]

So sorry if you've answered this before, but do you have any tips for how to tell if something is actually 30s/40s vintage cut or a mix between vintage and modern? I've seen you talk a couple of times about how a company's vests will be too long and their jackets too short (or something similar), but I don't know if that's a "the vest shall be precisely two inches below the apex of the wearer's elbow" type thing or just something you get an eye for once you do it a lot.

There are rough Rules, but you're really best off by developing your eye. "How to read a suit" is a great book, btw, for learning how suits have changed over time.

Start a "look book" of vintage photos of men in garments you like. Use actual vintage photos (or movie stills) of real people and *not* fashion drawings. You want to get good at deconstructing the vintage suit silhouette -- generally, what makes the torso more "V" shaped and the legs longer.

Let's use Jimmy Stewart as an example:

This is a great photo that shows off where trousers hit at the natural waist. It also shows a period tie length, how full the legs are, how the pleats sit, the full length trouser crease, the wide jacket lapels, and shoulders that extend beyond the natural shoulder.

These photos show where waistcoats and knitwear hit. You can also see the waistcoat has a high neckline, and, despite being short, has a lot more buttons than modern cut. The waistcoat also has a sort of fishtail look when that bottom button is undone.

These garments don't extend much past the (also high) trouser waistband. They do not cover the hips. Also note that the waistcoat *is* form-fitting, a rare garment of this era that is "slim".

This is a good example of coat length -- see how his coat hits between the two joints on his thumb. Also note his trousers - a wide turnup/cuff, and how they don't have a "break" in this case (aka, they don't spill over on to his shoes, but are a perfect length to completely hide the socks).

Some other fun details are the double breast pockets, some kind of collar bar, the spearpoint (long and pointed down) shirt collar.

And here, you can see how the suit coat nips in at the waist. This, combined with the wide cut shoulders, gives more of a "V" shape.

Now compare to these two Thomas Farthing cuts (no major shade - I have several garments from them, but also think their suiting would be so much better with an accurately vintage silhouette).

See how short the coat on the left is? It barely hits his wrist! It also doesn't look like it nips in at the waist. He looks like a rectangle and not a "V".

And the waistcoat on the right - that torso is so long! The waistcoat should end roughly where those pocket flaps are, instead of going over the hips. It also fits a bit loose - not much of a snatched waist look. Again, the impression is of a rectangle.

The trousers are... fine (they tend to not be wide enough), but since the other details are off, the trousers can't really do their job of making the legs look long.

As you dial in your look and shop around, try to shop online from places that show the clothing on a model -- that will at least help you see general proportions and silhouette.

Once you develop your eye, you can translate your ideal look to measurements that work for your own body. It might be a bit of trial and error, but once you get a great-fitting piece, measure it and start your own custom measurements sheet. Then, shop based on those measurements vs what is actually on a label or what your body is.

It is important not to solely go off of your body measurements. This is because of the concept of "ease", which is how loose fitting a garment is. I like my coats to have enough ease to layer in a sweater/jumper, and my shirts to have a boxy cut - not slim. This has meant that I've started wearing a slightly larger size than modern fashion would put me in (because modern fashion tries to be form-fitting). But in the vintage silhouette, that larger size *works*!

I hope this all helps. It all boils down to what *you* like, which doesn't have to be "accurate". But it will help your fashion journey if you're able to articulate what does and does not work in an outfit for you.

[thirdwheelravi]

Monday WIP

tagged by @littlespoonevan. i am having so much fun with this fic and i think i might be a little bit of an evil genius for this particular bit 😈

“Buck, where’s your suit?” he calls over to him in the kitchen, the Tuesday before the christening. “I’m dropping everything off at the dry cleaners on the way to get Chris.” Buck pokes his head out into the hallway. “Uh, it’s probably in that box of my clothes in the closet. Why?” “Rafael’s baby’s christening this weekend?” Eddie says, opening the box. “I literally just told you about it two days ago. And it’s on the calendar.” Buck stares at him blankly. “You…your cousin’s baby’s christening? Your cousin who I’ve never met?” “You met him at my shield ceremony,” Eddie reminds him, digging through Buck’s various winter sweaters and other seldom used clothing until he finds the suit in question. “Aha. Found it.” He glances back at Buck and has to do a double take at the scrunched expression on his face. “Do you not want to go?” “I didn’t know I was invited,” Buck says, voice careful.

tagging @rainscenes @doeeyeseddie @exhuastedpigeon @mythmagicetc @doitbuckley @thatbuddie @throughthelabrynth + whoever's working on something!

[lemonlover1110]

𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐲

Zayne

[Chapter 5] Reservation

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Pairing: Zayne x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

Tonight is your night off from everything and everyone. For the first time in what feels like a million years, you’re able to go out without a worry in the world. Greyson takes care of your two-year-old, ensuring that you have no worries for the night. 

Instead of going out with friends and having fun, you choose to treat yourself to a meal. Except that the ideal place for dinner is packed, and you don’t have a reservation. They tell you that you have the option to wait until a spot opens up, or make a reservation for another day; except, you don’t have another day. Another day you have to work or watch over Jade, you don’t know the next time you’ll have time off.

Just one hour. If you don’t get a table by 8, you’ll leave the premises and opt for a cheaper dinner. You’re willing to be patient, after all, you’re used to it. That’s what being a parent is all about.

7:03 PM.

You sit outside the restaurant, scrolling through your phone when you notice your phone is about to die. You decide to turn it off, not wanting to go back to your car to charge it. You might need it for an emergency, you never know with Jade these days. 

You’re forced to look around you, watching as people step into the restaurant. It’s mostly couples who wear their best outfits. Their arms are linked together, and they give each other their best smile. It’s like that with damn near every couple that walks by, and you feel the jealousy bubble in your stomach. 

You start looking down at your shoes, having nowhere else to look.

7:15 PM.

You feel a cold drop of water land on your arm, and you sigh. The car is parked too far away for you to run back there and camp out. If you go to your car, you’ll end up leaving. Maybe it’ll be a drizzle and nothing more, you can wait out. 

It’s not like a little bit of water will get you sick. You live with a two-year-old, you’re already constantly ill. You’re not made of sugar, you can handle a bit of water. You just have to hope that the water stops soon and that it doesn’t get worse.

If anything, that was your brain playing tricks on you. It’s not going to rain.

7:22 PM.

Your hope vanishes quickly, and it begins to pour. You stand in the entrance of the restaurant, soaking wet after not being able to hold on any longer. The moment the droplet fell, it began to pour down on you. You’re a complete mess right now, anyone that walks inside can see that.

The moment the rain dies down, you’ll go to your car and call it a night. You’ll get home and take a relaxing bubble bath, a weak attempt to forget this all. Who were you even kidding? You’re a mom, a place like this isn't your style anymore, whether you like it or not. Even when Jade isn’t with you.

You try to look at your phone, only to realize it’s dead. That’s your sign to head back to your car and go home.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry but we won’t be able to accommodate you tonight. I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.” The hostess walks over to you, clearly lying through her teeth. You’re just making the floors slippery, of course she wants you out. There must be a dozen reservations canceled due to the rain. And yet you don’t have the guts to call her out on it.

“She’s with me.” An all too familiar voice says, your ears perking up. You turn to look at him, Zayne in the flesh. He wears a gray turtleneck with black slacks, looking as handsome as ever; it seems that he had the day off, or at least left the hospital early since this isn’t his usual working outfit.

“Do you have a reservation, sir?” The hostess asks, and Zayne gives a subtle nod. You watch as Zayne follows the hostess to confirm the reservation before looking down at your soaking wet clothes. It’s best if you leave, you aren’t ready for the occasion anymore. Moreso, you aren’t ready to have dinner with Zayne, all on your own.

“Let’s go.” Zayne walks back to your side before you can take the initiative to move. You stare at him for a second, wondering if you’re really willing to pass up on this opportunity because you refuse to have an awkward dinner.

“Thank you.” You end up sheepishly smiling at him before walking alongside him to the table. You’re willing to have that awkward dinner. In all honesty, you’re willing to do anything as long as there isn’t someone throwing their peas around during dinner. 

You sit down across from him, quickly handed a menu. You feel your chest heavy, words caught up in your throat as you stare at him. He’s reading the menu, deciding what he should get. You should do the same, but you can’t help it.

“Thank you.” You speak, and he raises his brows. He tears his eyes off the menu and looks at you. Before he can say anything, you speak again, “You didn’t have to.”

He hums in response. You can tell dinner is going to be awkward with no amount of small talk– You’re determined to change that. You came here to enjoy a meal, and you’ll enjoy it one way or the other.

“I’ll go to the bathroom real quick to…” You stand up, looking down at the clothes. You let out a chuckle before finishing your sentence. “Try to dry off.”

Again, he hums. Not a single word comes from his lips as you walk to the bathroom. You get to the bathroom, and when you notice it’s empty, you lock the door behind you and take off your blouse, holding it under the hand drier.

“Hurry, hurry.” You mutter, watching as water drips out from the shirt. One hand holds it under the drier while you grab as many paper towels as you can, and try to dry your skin. You can’t go back to Zayne looking like this, it’s simply embarrassing.

Once the shirt is dry enough, you put it back on and look over yourself in the mirror. You try to fix your makeup, using your powder and reapplying your lipstick. You’re not trying to look good for Zayne, at least not consciously. You tell yourself that you just don’t want to look like a hot mess. You lower your shirt a bit, showing off some cleavage before walking out of the bathroom.

There’s a pitcher of water when you walk back to the table, along with two empty glasses. You smile at him as you sit back down, something that goes unnoticed by him since his eyes remain on the menu. He’s doing you a favor, he doesn’t have to return any smile. You grab the pitcher, and fill up his glass.

“Don’t you want anything else to drink? A little wine? Maybe some juice?” You suggest, and he shakes his head. You fill your glass with water before you look over the menu. It’s a sight for sore eyes to finally see a menu where you can’t pronounce half of the food offered. 

“You know, it’s nice to know someone won’t cry because the fries weren’t soggy enough during dinner.” You comment as you try to decide what you’ll pick. Zayne’s eyebrows perk up.

“Does Greyson give you an issue about soggy fries?” He dryly jokes, which earns a chuckle from you. 

“You know, I’ll take a glass of chardonnay. I came here to enjoy an expensive meal.” You say, and once again, he hums. You hate the awkward silence, but you guess it’s what you deserve.

The waiter walks by and takes your order, taking the menu from your hands. He takes the one thing that you can hide behind. It’s not really an issue for you, but it is for Zayne who idly stares down at the table.

“Were you planning to come here alone?” You attempt to make conversation, though you should know better than to ask a yes or no question with Zayne. He’s not in the mood to talk. Well, perhaps he is in the mood to talk, just not with you.

He nods. You just want to laugh at how pathetic this is. You’re back to square one with Zayne– No, this is worse than square one since at least he’d have the courtesy to use his voice. Although it isn’t as bad as you might think since he helped you with the reservation. 

“My friends have been raving about the food here, I just haven’t had the chance to come around since Jade is attached to my hip the moment she wakes up.” You confess.

“Why not bring her along? She’s well-behaved from what I’ve heard.” He asks, making you burst into laughter. It’s as if he’s told some sort of joke. To you it is. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, no. Jade is well behaved, you heard right, but bringing her here?” You begin, another laugh leaving your lips. “She’s not an angel even though she might seem like one.”

“She wasn’t picky when I came over for dinner.” He points out, making you frown.

“Are we talking about my two-year-old? The one that left all the carrots and barely touched the asparagus?” You respond. “The only reason she ate more was because you asked her to, shockingly.”

“What do you mean by shockingly?”

“Jade does not like to be told what to do. I’m surprised she didn’t throw it on the floor out of spite.” You share, and he lets out a low laugh.

“Ah, she’s stubborn.” He bites his tongue, doing his best to not make a remark that Jade is just like her mother. “Being strong-willed is a good characteristic, as long as you teach her to admit defeat. Listening to others is not a weakness.”

“I will after I teach her not to run in the house.” You respond, and he hums in response before an awkward silence overtakes the table. You think about what to talk about, and then it dawns on you: the cause for your breakup. “How was your research? I never got around to ask how it went.”

“It was good.” He answers, not impulsed to give out more details.

“Tell me some details. You were gone for a long time.” You insist, and Zayne nods before he begins to speak about his research. None of the words make sense to you, but you nod and pretend like you’re understanding what he says. You watch his eyes light up as he explains everything to you. He forgets about how this was the essential cause of your breakup. He forgets that he’s talking to you of all people. 

“That sounds interesting.” You comment when he finishes speaking. He nods in response as he debates on asking the question that bugs his mind. He decides against it. Dinner is going surprisingly well, and he won’t risk ruining it by asking a question he doesn’t want to know the answer to.

9:32 PM.

“It’s late.” You comment as you look at the time. Time went by, and you barely noticed. Things turned around and flowed smoothly, surprisingly enough.

“Did you really need my phone to check the time?” Zayne asks as you hand him back the phone. You hand him your own phone and tell him,

“Try to turn it on.”

He fails to turn it on, and when he notices it has no battery, he hands it back to you.

“I also have a watch. It won’t hurt to ask me what time it is.” He says, standing up from his seat. As much as he wishes that the night could be everlasting, it’s not.

“You handed your phone willingly, no questions asked. I think that’s easier.” You point out as he pulls out your chair. You can’t complain about dinner. You had appetizers, entrees and dessert, which were all exquisite. Zayne insisted on paying for everything, even when you argued about splitting the bill since he was doing you a favor.

“We should do this again.” You comment as you walk by his side. You have quite a walk to your car, there wasn’t any parking nearby– Not any parking that wasn’t parallel at least. It’s a good thing that the rain died down. Its only purpose was to get you wet.

“This was a one time thing.” He tells you as he guides you outside. He’ll walk you to your car, make sure you’re safe and then leave. He’s willing to pretend like this didn’t happen. 

“Why?” You question as if it isn’t glaringly obvious. 

“I feel like it’d make Greyson uncomfortable.” He gives you that subtle reminder that makes your heart drop. Of course, your husband. Zayne wouldn’t want to upset his long-time friend. 

You clear your throat, smiling brightly at him before you claim, “He wouldn’t be uncomfortable.”

“It’s still not a good idea considering we have a history.” He argues, and you furrow your brows.

“Why did you invite me to your table then?” You point out, a childish argument since you know he was doing it out of kindness. You’re biting the hand that feeds you. 

“You’re right. Next time I’ll turn a blind eye and allow them to kick you out.” He says, and you purse your lips together. You continue to walk back to your car quietly.

“There’s no need to take me back to my car, it’s quite a walk.” You end up saying, finding yourself annoyed. You know he’s right, you absolutely do, but you still find yourself upset. Zayne doesn’t listen.

“When’s Jade’s birthday by the way? She’s very advanced for her age.” Zayne comments, and you smile at the compliment. Yes, your baby is very advanced. She’s your pride and joy.

“Her birthday is Febru–” You catch yourself before you actually say it. “You don’t have to worry about a birthday gift, if that’s why you ask.”

“February?” He asks, and you point to your car, ignoring him.

“There’s my car. I have to go.” You ignore his question, sheepishly smiling at him. “Thank you for dinner, Zayne. It was lovely.”

You begin to walk to your car, leaving him behind. There’s that guilty feeling creeping over you that you try so hard to ignore, but you can’t. He’s going to see her birthday eventually, he’s her doctor… You might as well tell a little white lie and cover yourself.

“Her birthday is February 27. She came a little early.” You say, as if Jade wasn’t nearly 10 pounds when she was born. She technically was a couple of days early, she was supposed to be born in March.

The answer leaves a sour taste in his mouth, ending his night on a sour note. Something isn’t right, but he doesn’t have the guts to ask about your loyalty. He wants to keep and cherish the memories of your relationship, and he knows that your answer will upset him.

[perplexingly]

Hello, sorry to go anon but I am a bit shy of being seen and I'm not sure if someone has said this already but your post about having access to different editions of Hesse books made me think that it might be useful to let people who might not be able to get their hands on his work easily that a lot of it is on the Internet Archive, including audiobooks.

I also hope you don't mind I wanted to say thank you- you breathing life into Narcissus and Goldmund with your unbridled (and joyous?) explorations really sparked a fire in me for more poetic styles of literature- they've felt a little dense and been hard for me to grasp before- but you've helped show me delving deeply into a text to riddle it out can be half the fun of reading, so thank you

Unfortunately Internet Archive doesn't have many books (N&G only as an undownloadable preview), however Anna's Archive and Library Genesis do! Library Genesis tends to be down and mirrored, an the Reddit page suggests checking Wikipedia for the active link.

Neither of these have Vennewitz's translation of N&G, and scanning it is an endeavour that @et-cant-phone-home-no-signal took

And thank you for the kind words! 🥰 I hope you enjoy all the future books you decide to read!!

[korben600]

Oh Buddy. You need to remember the single most important thing about the Central Finite Curve episodes, and why it’s such a clever mechanic for why evil morty is so desperate to get out of it, and none of the Rick’s want to leave.

The thing the Central Finite Curve is based on isn’t some random bullshit sci fi gobbledygook.

It’s based on Rick.

Specifically, the Central Finite Curve is a culmination of all universes where Rick is the smartest man in the universe.

And notably, it’s specifically based on Rick’s perception of intelligence, and it’s only based on each individual universe.

So first off, the individual Rick’s intelligence is a hard cap on the intelligence of everyone else in that universe. That’s why there’s so many dumb Rick’s out there, and even more dumb Morty’s. Yes, Rick might be the smartest man in that particular universe, but for some idiot universes, that’s not a high bar. So when Wife Rick, or Rick Prime show up, they tend to curbstomp whichever Rick is there. Because in addition to being idiots, by their nature, a Rick who doesn’t actively seek out challenges outside of his baseline universe is only going to be punching down. (And notably, while they’re better at it, Wife Rick and Rick Prime still regularly underestimate their opponents. Wife Rick regularly gets the shit kicked out of him, and Rick Prime ultimately loses to a Morty of all people.)

Going back to the original point, while this doesn’t mean Morty’s are guaranteed to be idiots, they’re at a significant disadvantage. Since by the laws of the Central Finite Curve, they have to be dumber than the Rick of their universe. (Not that it’s forcing them to be dumber mind you, just that the only universes we see have a Morty that’s dumber that their Rick)

But what about Evil Morty then? What about when Protag Morty shows an incredible knack for things others in his universe don’t?

Well, there’s one little bit of wording I mentioned above that explains the latter, and a very big oversight by the Rick’s that explains the former.

Remember, Protag Morty isn’t Wife Rick’s home-universe Morty. Wife Rick’s wife and daughter Beth were killed by Rick Prime. He doesn’t have a direct lineage Morty.

Protag Morty is Rick Prime’s Morty.

As such, his intelligence isn’t limited to a random Rick like The Artist Formerly Known as Rick, or even Wife Rick. His intelligence ceiling is limited by someone who everyone else agrees is the smartest Rick in the multiverse.

So theoretically, even if we take the Central Finite Curve as gospel (which we shouldn’t) Protag Morty has the ability to get very smart if he so desires.

And then there’s Evil Morty.

Evil Morty is the collective result of all of Ricks’ worst sins (the Council, Rick Prime, and Wife Rick).

Because here’s the thing.

The Central Finite Curve does select for intelligence.

It does select for universes where Rick Sanchez is the “smartest man in the universe”.

But it’s fundamentally limited by the men who made it.

Because when Rick Sanchez, an inventor, is selecting for the “smartest men” in the universe, what kind of intelligence is he looking for?

Simple.

He’s looking for the kind of intelligence he has. The fun kind of intelligence. The easy kind of intelligence to measure and quantify.

When Rick made the Central Finite Curve, he selected for technical intelligence.

The ability to see a complicated machine, break it into little pieces, understand how those pieces work, and put them back together again in a way to conform to your own specifications.

But that’s just one type of intelligence.

The entire goddamn series makes a very specific and brutal point that even if you are the literal “smartest man in the universe” on a technical level, that does not necessarily mean you are smart in everything.

If you want just one example, look at Rick’s therapist.

Rick is objectively smarter than her in every realm of “hard” science…but the man still shows up for therapy.

Why? Because as smart as Rick is, he is dumb as a box of rocks when it comes to emotional intelligence.

Now, does technical intelligence overlap with other forms of intelligence? Absolutely.

Wife Rick and Rick Prime quite regularly engage in feats of social engineering that require them to understand people on some level, if only on the baseline “threaten people’s lives until they do what you want” thing.

But the show makes it very clear that the intelligence ceiling that governs the rest of the Central Finite Curve does not apply to emotional intelligence.

Which, going back to it, is why Evil Morty is the biggest threat to Wife Rick, and why he’s the one who ultimately takes down Rick Prime.

Because Evil Morty, on a technical level, isn’t actually that much different in technical intelligence than Wife Rick. And we actually don’t have any evidence he was any smarter than the Rick in his home universe.

What he is, is emotionally intelligent.

He knows how to manipulate people. He knows how to motivate people. He knows how to identify threats and opportunities, capitalize on them, and he knows himself and what he wants.

He gets into the Citadel not by breaking in, but by manufacturing an interdimensional refugee crisis, killing dozens of “lesser” ricks, so he could sneak into the Citadel in a Morty refugee crisis he caused.

He finally breaks the Central Finite Curve, not by coming up with some clever invention, but by winning an election. And then using that political power to get the entire Citadel to focus on destroying it (much to their own detriment.

He beats Rick Prime, not by outsmarting him technically, but by preying on his feelings. He gets the jump on him by pretending to be Rick Prime’s direct biological grandson (Protag Morty), and then pouncing on that moment of weakness.

Evil Morty has a kind of callous, cruel, but incredibly effective emotional intelligence that is the perfect foil to Wife Rick’s technical intelligence.

An emotional intelligence that Protag Morty shares. That’s why, every time Protag Morty is “let off the leash” so to speak, Protag Morty shows a surprising amount of competence.

The difference between Evil Morty and Protag Morty is twofold:

1) Evil Morty had more technical expertise than Protag Morty. Protag Morty is no slouch, But Evil Morty is the level of a middling Rick, at the lowest.

But more importantly…

2) Evil Morty is a narcissist, who doesn’t care about safety and wellbeing of the people around him. Protag Morty does. Protag Morty cares when he makes people’s lives worse, and cares when he hurts other’s feelings. His “moments of power” consistently come when he stops giving a shit about other people, and decides hurting people is an acceptable tradeoff for gaining power and influence.

Evil Morty for all of his self aggrandizing philosophy about “oh why am I named ‘Evil Morty’ when all I wanted to do is get out of the Central Finite Curve”, is named as such not because of his goals, but because he leaves a bloody trail a mile wide in his wake. He was actively mulching innocent Ricks and Morty’s to break the CFC.

He is not a better version of Protag Morty. He is just a colder one.

So. Going back to the original take.

The reason Wife Rick calls Protag Morty an idiot isn’t because Protag Morty is dumb. And for that matter, that’s not why we think Protag Morty is dumb either.

It’s because Wife Rick, and the Audience, tend to value technical intelligence.

And unlike every Rick in the multiverse, Protag Morty, (like Evil Morty) is emotionally intelligent.

Morty is so dumb that...

1. He regularly disarms Rick's neutrino bombs. The first time he did it it was completely on the fly, no prior experience. Yet, he did it.

2. He has a knack for learning alien languages... as for the tree people in the battery dimension, it was obviously done without any sort of translator or support. (And he took over as their leader)

3. He's quick on his feet and can think his way out in a stressful situation, figuring out things that Rick can't and coming up with innovative solutions.

4. He figured out how to use a portal gun.

5. He can figure out how machines he's never seen nor used before work, and employ them successfully.

6. Beat Rick (smartest man in the universe?) in a board game.

7. Can manipulate said "smartest man in the universe", if he so chooses.

8. Became a successful stock broker. Out of the blue. Just did it.

9. Run. Whole. Freaking. Civilizations (and also toppled them as Marta)

10. Pitches good ideas that Rick typically ignores

11. When suddenly becomes motivated to try, he is good at math

12. His ideas were good enough that he would have gotten a deal for a movie production...!

13. His default intelligence is maxed out.

...At this point, it's only a matter of time before he starts making his own inventions, Eyepatch-Morty-style.

GUYS.

The only reason we've been thinking that Morty is stupid is that Rick has been calling him stupid repeatedly.

Sure, Morty does plenty of dumb stuff, but so does Rick. Rick has the emotional intelligence of a four year old and throws tantrums of cosmic proportions whenever slighted (vat of acid? submit to the selfie?), while often going ahead with complicated, innovative ideas... that in reality solve nothing and are a waste of time (Pickle Rick?? Leg Rick?? Cloning his own daughter? The dumb time-loop in his own dimension? Replacing himself with a robot? Creating a robot ghost to scary Mr Poopybutthole instead of just telling him to leave??) Not to mention his many incredibly lame jokes.

Everyone does dumb stuff occasionally!!! No one is an impeccable genius of non-stop moments of brightness!! (even Eyepatch Morty, the most cautious character, the character who has made basically NO MISTAKES up to now, sounds dumb a couple of times: "I'm gonna do the thing I wanna do, with the curve thing" and "My biggest fear is other people being afraid. Of fear. Itself." lol).

If Rick hadn't been calling Morty a freaking idiot with every breath available, we wouldn't be thinking "oh look haha the moron became a stock broker, what a joke, must be some sort of fluke"; we would be thinking "what an incredibly gifted kid".

We would attribute Morty's many mistakes to lack of experience, to lack of wisdom, to youth, to enthusiasm, to idealism, to teenager hormones, to acting hastily.

We would wish to see him eventually mature, apply his time and effort to worthwhile endeavors instead (mainly) of inane teenage stuff. We would wish to see him do well in school, we would wish to see him reach his full potential and succeed in great things.

Only Rick keeps pounding our heads with how stupid Morty is, and all of Morty's successes are never mentioned again, but getting lost to oblivion in comparison to Rick's (who has 60+ years more experience) genius.

WE VIEWERS ARE BEING UNWITTINGLY MANIPULATED THE EXACT SAME WAY MORTY IS.

[bewitched-hours]

Heya!! My request didn't go through last night bc of a power outage...its oki tho

Anyways could I request a jellyfish!reader x shedletsky fic...so basically reader has a stinger that stuns the killers right and while they are just cuddling with Shed their tail stings him we get scared that he would yell at us be he doesn't and says he's fine! I just need fluff in my life 😞🫰 (maybe you could sprinkle some suggestive bits in there...)

Aww, that sounds cute! Although, jellyfish don't have tails so I hope the tentacles/stingers are an okay replacement? (Unless I completely misunderstood this request-) Jellyfish are just silly little creatures (,,> ᴗ <,,) Did you know they can regrow parts of their bodies?

Reader's pronouns will be She/They!

You were less than amused when your calming float In the deep waters was interrupted by a sharp pain before total darkness took your vision.

Not long after had you opened your eyes again to find yourself in a cabin of strangers, offered a change of clothes and helped you dry up. At the time you were perceived as oddly calm and the survivors would just leave you be to sleep when you weren't stunning killers with your stingers and protecting them. It made you tired at first.

But Shedletsky seemed to have taken an interest in you after a while and began hanging around, talking with you and getting you to come out of your shell a bit.

He was how you went from a calm and quiet jellyfish to a loud and joyful one. He helped you develop a personality when all you had known before was the quiet and undisturbed nirvana of the deep dark ocean.

And for that, you were grateful.

Because he showed you there was more to life than darkness and tranquillity. There was fun, connection and thrill to find.

Although you weren't exactly thrill-seeking, you still enjoyed how Shed made rounds feel less terrifying and always managed to cheer you up when you died.

He also helped you figure out that your favourite food was Shrimp. Though your own tentacles were also a tasty snack, since you were surprisingly immune to your own stings. Luckily they grow back...

But because of this, Shedletsky made a habit out of not only getting himself a bucket of chicken but getting you a bucket of shrimp on the side. You didn't know why but you weren't about to question the man bringing you your favourite snack of all time.

Something about the way your tentacles wrapped around his torso in a hugging motion whenever he handed you your blessed bucket was cute to him. Like a silent sign of gratitude from someone he considers a crush friend.

Soon enough, those little hugs turned into full on cuddling as you'd eat your respective choices together. The other survivors saw it as perfect harmony. You two worked together like two peas in a pot. Two mice in a hole, whatever other saying there was to call you two by.

You barely even realized how fast things were moving when Shed asked you to be his girlfriend and had your cabins joined together. No need for a bigger bed though, you seemed perfectly content with sleeping partially on him and he loved having your body relax under his heartbeat.

It was calming, not too cutesy, what more could you ask for?

Well, apparently you had picked up the habit of stinging Shed during nightmares. It was all on accident of course but he would always be up earlier than you to cover the sting marks since they didn't really hurt. Since you weren't consciously stinging him, it felt more like a quick shock of heat than a stunning shock with the might of an electrical fence galore.

But tonight, one of those nightmares had woken you up... And you saw the marks...

"Oh no! Shed- Are you alright?!" You panicked, worrying that he was upset. How long have you been doing this for? Some of those marks seemed almost faded. How was he not upset??

You would barely even let him speak, your anxious thoughts filling your head as you tried to move and grab a hair tie or something to tie your tentacles up and keep them away from Shedletsky.

But he quickly stopped you and made sure to hold your face gently as he turned you to look at him.

"[Reader], look at me. These don't hurt, I'm fine." He spoke firmly at first to get your attention before his face and tone softened greatly.

"I couldn't care less about these marks. If anything, they remind me that I've got you by my side and that isn't changing." He began to pepper your face in kisses to wipe away your tears. "I'm not letting you hurt yourself over such a little thing."

You could only sigh, melting into his affections and letting your worries wash away as you smiled at him so softly. "Heh... You know how to make me feel like jello in your care..." You chuckled a bit, trying to joke around to ease the tension from before until you suddenly found yourself right underneath him with a playful chuckle escaping his mouth.

"Luckily there's more ways to show my love and make you feel like jello." He almost seemed smug as he saw your blush.

Let's hope the cabin walls are more soundproof than they look...

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[theotherrookie]

"I would gladly join in on the conversation, if you wish. Though I would be fine with simply listening to it."

Some would call it eavesdropping, she considered it as a way to stay up to date on her friends' lives. The lack of ill intent made a major difference, of course.

"I know I'm good at other things, but it'd be fun to do more than falling with style." Rook explained, "At least while in this form."

Flight was much easier when she fully turned into a phoenix. The bird instincts only ever seemed to kick in when her wings were about to embarrass her in some way.

"Well, you can work on it. First, you've got to spice your wardrobe like-"

"Such as if grunge never died?" Lucien asked.

"No. We can start with a nice top to show off your tattoos–" Rook hastily turned to glare at Lucien, "Don't say a single word."

"You're killing me, Rook." Lucien snorted as he was threateningly poked in the chest, "But we should consider installing a ramp at the club."

It would be a nice place to practice before heading out. Now that they weren't under threat of being killed the moment they lowered their guard, he would also find some time to go through those catalogues the Twins were so fond of. Decorating was one of his passions after all. He would quickly get invested in fixing the club.

Lucien then joined Rook, Erica and even Willow's shock by grimacing at Antonio's suggestion. Now, that was nasty.

Veronica was quick to draw the spray bottle from earlier and aimed it at Antonio. "Please, don't traumatize your sisters."

"As long as he suffers." Erica replied casually, before smiling, "Yep! It's a quiet area. Maybe if we cleaned it up a bit we might get to see deer too!"

It would have been nice. Wild animals were scarce around the facility. She would have liked seeing more.

"Well, if it turns out we need them again, I know their shadows now." Erica said, before raising her hand, "I wanna come along!"

"I may join as well." Willow said, "Just in case you come across any police patrols along the way."

Though she also happened to have found an interest in cars lately. Willow chose to ignore the way Rook was looking at her.

"Well, I'm never going to fit in the car like this." Rook said, "I guess the rest of us could take a shortcut and dump all the contaminated evidence before we go spread Five's toxins in a crowded place."

The idea of building their own customized electronic devices caught Willow's interest.

"I helped Rook adapt her design to allow us to communicate across the veil. A custom tablet compatible with her phone could have some use." Willow suggested, "The two of you might enjoy discussing this."

It wouldn't be difficult to find some time for it. It wasn't as if Rook cared about such things as a sleep schedule.

"Look at that. Three birds and I'm the only one who can't get her feet off the ground." Rook mused.

"Some things take practice, dear." Veronica reassured her, "Though it would help if you actually practiced at all."

"I can't do that, I have to teach Russell how to be entirely radical."

Rook very much enjoyed the idea of hanging out at the skatepark together. It would have been a nice change from the last few months and at least she could challenge Lucien's skill on that front.

"Well, if that'll be anything like you did to dad, then they're going to beg you take up more roles like that." Rook said then.

"And if all else fails, you may use your abilities to persuade them to give you another chance." Willow noticed Rook seemed to be staring at her, "What is it?"

"He's only supposed to be a villain on stage, you know."

"I am the evil twin." Willow then shifted her attention to what Travis was doing, ready to snatch a snack for herself.

Lucien couldn't have been happier when Russell returned the gesture in his own way. That alone was better than even the perspective of a sweet treat.

"Well, we've been spending quite some time together lately. I believe this will be the first instance in which we're all coming together for a positive reason." he pointed, "I'd say it's about time."

The memory of waking up to everybody gathered around him after having brought him back from the dead was finally beginning to fade, much like the building behind them. All was left to do now was going back to their lives and enjoy what they had built together and nobody would get to stand in the way of that anymore.

"If Ratchet comes back, I'll just set his pants on fire." Rook stated, "He's going to miss believing he got Kenified very quickly."

"If he comes back. Maybe the Twins already killed him." Erica replied, walking along. "They left their books, but the only thing different was a family of hedgehogs sitting in the backyard."

She had already read the letter, but the way Russell was holding it caught her attention. It was true that one could learn many things about their friends by simply watching them.

"It's all in the letter, though."

The letter in question was just a few sentences written in pen on a page ripped off a notepad.

'Boss.

If you're reading this, then you showed Five who's the boss around here. We would have liked to hear the story, but we don't want to find out what your friends can do when they get bored.

We checked the building and left a list of things that need to be fixed to get the place back up and we're going to take out the trash. Ratchet won't find his way back for a while.

You've been a good boss and we'd be interested in working for you again. Same conditions because we like you.'

"They signed as Tommy and Timmy. I guess they liked the names after all." Erica said.

[mqsi]

can you do the plane smut with pedri? thank you!!!

Hard turbulence

warning: smut

————————————————————————

Working as a flight attendant wasn’t an easy and dreamy job that social media often shows. You have to be perfectly polite all the time which is hard when people act like complete jerks.

But today was an exception, it was dreamy. Barcelona football team was flying with your airline to an international game. You were a fan so this was really fun for you. But still, you had to act professional and not cross any boundries with the passengers.

Everything was going smoothly until you noticed a pair of eyes everytime you passed. You tried to ignore it but it was too tempting not to return the looks. Pedri’s hazel eyes followed you around the plane. Everything you did, you felt watched.

“Would you like something to drink?”you asked looking at him.

“No” he replied not averting his gaze “thanks”

You were about to move to the next row when you felt a light brush against the back of your knee. His finger grazed up your leg, getting just to the hem of your skirt. Your breath hitched. You knew you couldn’t react more than you did just now, you can’t draw attention from others.

Act normal.

But your panties are wet and your face is hot and it feels like everyone is staring at you. Without turning around to face him, you got to the next row.

As soon as you were done you rushed behind a curtain that divided passengers and crew. As you pulled the curtain you met eyes with Pedri’s again. He was smirking back at you. He knew what he did and he would do it again without hesitation. You decided to ignore him and just continue doing your job.

“Where you going?” Ferran asked when Pedri suddenly stood up from his seat.

“To the bathroom” he replied and Ferran just nodded going back to his phone. Nobody really payed attention to Pedri, it was a longer flight and some even drifted to sleep. Pedri used that to quickly slip behind a curtain. You turned your head to him instantly.

“Sir, you can’t be here” you said trying to sound serious but it came out a bit wobbly.

“You sure?” he said stepping closer to you.

“Yes, you have to-“

“I have to what?” he cut you off now standing just a few cm away from your face.

Without any more words he pushed you inside a bathroom behind you, locking the door. His hands landed on your hips,pushing his body against yours.

The bathroom was already cramped but you felt like you couldn’t breathe. A rush of adrenaline pumped trough your veins. You knew you shouldn’t be doing this, your job was at stake,but it felt so good.

“You still want me to leave?” he mumbled, you could feel his breath against your neck.

“We have to be quick” you replied without much thought and that was all he needed to snap. His lips met yours in a heated kiss, as he harshly grabbed your ass making you whimper against him.

Pedri took your hand placing it against his erection that was straining against a navy matching set he wore. You pulled the sweats down, taking his cock in your hand, making him hiss.

“On your knees bonita”

You followed his instructions, it was like he controlled you, you were completely his and you didn’t even know him. You sunk down to your knees, licking his cock from base to tip. He grabbed your head, completely ruining your perfectly made bun.

“Come on, open up”

Again, you obeyed, letting him thrust in your mouth. It was slow at first but then he sped up, his tip was hitting the back of your throat. Your makeup was gone, mascara running down your cheeks. You were a mess but you enjoyed every second of his sweet torture.

“I’m gonna cum and you’re gonna swallow everything” he growled above you before spilling down your throat. You swallowed fast and he pulled away, letting you finally breathe normally. He tucked himself away and you got up, wiping your mouth.

“You might want to fix yourself a bit” he said nonchalanty, hands in pockets.

“You don’t say” you replied with red lipstick smears everywhere. Your hair was a mess and your clothes were wrinkled.

“Sorry I couldn’t fuck you but it would be too suspicious” he said and winked at you before leaving the bathroom.

————————————————————————

[cuppajj]

Are there any details you can share about Feather's crew? Or Smoked Cheese, Mozzarella, and Burnt Cheese? If not I will be forced to assume the last three are all news channel hosts/reporters that spread the propaganda that Cheese orders them to, while also running a reality TV show for entertainment and that the former four watch/listen to the latter three's TV/radio show.😔

Sure!

Camembert Fox has a twin sibling, still in the Golden City. She’s waiting for the day Celestial Cheese brings them back, but she knows a lot goes into powering the machine that makes it happen. Also, despite her short stature and resting pout, she’s quite friendly when you get to know her! She can be cautious and a bit of a stickler, but she means well, especially for those she cares about.

Spiced Brûlée can trace her ancestry back to Beast Yeast! She’s never been there, but she’s hoping to someday. She has lots of books on the continent, some of which contradict each other. There’s only one way to prove which one is right! (Also, she can dig holes incredibly fast. Hopefully that arm strength comes in handy?) (ALSO!! She LOVES Shining Glitter’s music and it’s a crime Feather has never heard of her)

Sunflower is the cool older sibling type who’s into monster hunting! It’s not her profession, but wrangling sandworms are a fun pastime. Even though she’s an outsider, Cheese is quite fond of her. Sunflower also knows Adventurer Cookie, and the two have kept in contact up until recently. She was also the one to give Yellow Feather her name! (It was a team effort, but her idea was the best.)

Nymphaea is a soft spoken and well mannered cookie who specializes in conjuring healing water. After an arduous day of work, the crew drink up, relax, and feel their strength returning. In the Golden City, she ran a bathhouse that was popular with monster fighters. As the co-captain and seniormost Homecomer (terminology used for Golden City cookies brought to the material plane), she’s the one who reports to the Chronicler, who sponsors the team.

As for what Smoked, Burnt, and Mozzarella are doing… they’re still in the Golden City, but let’s just say they might have altered data. That’s all I’ll share for now!

[gatorbites-imagines]

ORDER UP

gimmie uhhhhhhhhhhhh a mark x alien male reader and mark has to teach the reader earth social norms

THANKS PAPA FOR FEEDING ME

Mark Grayson x Alien male reader 

Headcanons 

I almost made reader something like Jean Jacket from the movie Nope, or the aliens from Arrival, but I contained myself.  

Settled for something more vague and insect in nature, cuz I like mandibles. Hes not Haluma levels, but... like brother like brother ig. 

this was really fun to write... imagine Mark feeding reader those beetle jellies.

You discover earth on your own on your travels. You were a bit of an outcast amongst your people (or perhaps, you were banished off the planet). 

Its not your fault that they were so boring. It was part of your peoples culture to live boring, repetitive lives. Even if you could live hundreds or thousands of years, your people never left their planet or explored the stars. 

Well, you started studying, you started developing powers and one thing lead to another. Turns out the reason your people dont want knowledge is that you guys grow stronger the more you know, and too much knowledge can drive you mad. 

But you didnt want to go mad, you just wanted to explore, which was how you get to earth. 

Well, first you settle on Mars and meet the nice martians. They warn you about earth and their earthlings, one of the nicer ones is giving off pheromones and brain waves of attraction in your directions, and had you possessed the ability, you might have blushed. Instead, your mandibles quiver. 

Anyways. After Mars you fly to the earth's moon, and settle down for a little rest. The pretty martian had given you a nice meal, so you were gonna enjoy it. 

So what that you needed to melt it down with your stomach acid first before slurping it up like some kinda smoothie, it was delicious, and it allowed you to pick up every single molecule that made it up. 

Your happy munching gives the GDA time to notice you, cuz of course they are keeping track of the moon, and they don't know what to do with you. 

Your head kinda looks like a mixture of a wasp, and some kind of horned beetle. There was a very impressive horn sticking out of your head, if you do say so yourself... well... its not really that impressive amongst your people... like... at all... you had never succeeded in getting a mate, let's just say that... 

From what the GDA could see you wore clothes, but it also meshed with your natural exoskeleton. You had no visible wings, but instead a long and segmented tail, that looked almost like the tail of a scorpion, just longer and more flexible. 

There were two arms and two legs visible on you, making you appear humanoid, for the most part. You had pretty wide shoulders and slim hips, giving you a real “dorito” build, in the words of one Rex splode. 

Mark ends up being the one sent to check you out, to see if you are a threat or not and all that, because when you finish eating you kick off of the moon's surface, and it takes you less than 10 seconds to reach earth's atmosphere. 

Your mandibles start tittering when you float above the planet, eyes sparkling with wonder at this beautiful, interesting planet, with all these living beings and vast nature. 

Its only your extreme senses that lets you know something is approaching. Fighting isnt your biggest hobby, but you can if needed, but your sensors tell you Mark is cautious but nonviolent. 

Its a bit of a struggle in the beginning as you try to work your translator you fit the human language. You'll only need it for a few minutes, then you'll have understood it all, but still. 

Mark isnt really sure what he should do with you, since you are technically just a tourist. Not here to take over the planet, not here to cause issues, just here to hang out and see what its all about. 

You letting slip that you tore through a viltrumite on your travels, even flexing your claws, which grow to about 6 inches in length and sharp enough to punch a hole through viltrumites, they do get a bit more cautious. 

In the beginning Mark sticks close as Invincible to keep an eye on you, but also because hes a nerd and its just so interesting to meet someone from another planet. 

Most other encounters has had with non-earthlings have been violent, aside from Allen of course, but still.  

Invincible and his alien pal become a hashtag on social media as Mark shows you around the planet, videos of you excitedly asking questions and being fascinated by the dumbest things go viral. 

“And how does this so-called global warming effect you, my friend” goes on video. You are crouching down, asking a pigeon. The pigeon coos back, puffing up its feathers, your tail flicks from side to side, you nod with a grim expression. “is that so” you reply.  

Makes Mark realize you can learn any language, at any time. He swears he sees you talking to a plant at some point. When he carefully asks you just snicker, mandibles clicking. “Of course, I understand them Invincible, their waves are very strong” 

Mark has to help you a bit with the social norms of earth. You get especially confused when different countries and different people have their own rules and norms. All planets you've seen until now don't do this. 

“Does this not just make it more difficult, friend Invincible?” you ask, as your long thin tongue flick out from between your mandibles to lap up the delicious sorbet you had been introduced to. 

Mark just sighs and shrugs with an “yeah...” kind of expression, because how's he gonna explain earths level of problems to someone from outta space. 

Imagine you join Mark in a fight, and afterwards Mark has to change out of his costume and you walk in on him. You yelp and smack your hands over your eyes, turning around when he starts pulling off his suit. 

It's not like he's naked or anything, it's just been shredded so he needs to change it. “I did not know you were molting friend Invincible, my deepest apologies” you chitter, tail smacking something so it falls over as you try and stumble out. 

This leads to a conversation about how humans don't have shells, and that clothes aren't part of their bodies. It makes you sigh dreamily, wishing you could change your colors and textures at will. 

Does Mark develop feelings? Maybe, it would be cute if he did, and would give him a major crisis.  

If he does and you stay on earth, then you end up learning and growing so much that you can alter your shape, giving you a human form. Well, for the most part. You will always look kinda uncanny. Just enough to be off-putting to people. Mark loves you though. 

Rumor going around is that you are a fae or vampire. Nobody is even surprised at this point, the world is messed up, so what if Mark Grayson is dating something nonhuman.

[thepeaklegendoffirstgen]

The fruit shop was doing great, contrary to all the doubts Eli once had. Watching the business bloom and thrive had turned out to be a blessing in disguise.

What was a bit of an issue, however, was the idea of putting up posters of all the Hostel boys above the shop. While it was fun and catchy, some women had clearly gotten the wrong idea. Even the older ones didn’t leave him alone.

You often teased him, calling him the local DG, with women of all age groups flocking to the fruit shop, less for the fruit, more for the chance to catch a glimpse of him. It made him flustered. But deep down, were you using humour just to hide your own hesitation? He wondered.

You reassured him time and again that this is how things work, and it’s not as if anyone could steal him away. Still, the nagging worry lingered. Maybe it was also because, even though he was doing better now, he still couldn’t carve out enough proper time for you, and this daily circus only added salt to the wound.

It was only when Warren took over for the day that Eli finally got some time with you. You’d come back from the park with Yenna, and the little girl, exhausted from playing, had fallen asleep the moment you tucked her into bed.

“Did you guys have fun?” he asked, checking on Yenna before gently leading you out of the room.

“Yes! It’s full blossom now, so Yenna kept chasing butterflies. And there were other kids too,” you beamed.

You both settled on the couch, shoulders brushing. You pulled his hand into yours and asked, “How was work today?”

“The usual,” he sighed, “though today some customers were fighting about whether watermelons are better than green grapes.”

You tried to contain your laughter, but it spilled out anyway. “Seriously? Were they fighting over their favourite fruit or like fans over idols?”

Every day brought new ridiculous stories from his fruit shop, and they never failed to surprise you.

“Sally and Hudson handled it,” he added between your giggles. Then, with a dry expression, he continued, “But one lady also asked Hudson for his number. He had to remind her that asking a minor for his number is illegal and criminal.”

You clutched your shirt as you laughed harder. At least someone had the guts. Hudson might be a businessman through and through, but he never compromised on ethics.

Leaning into Eli, you rested against him as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. Once your laughter settled, you kissed along his jaw and asked softly, “How do you deal with this every day?” Then with a small chuckle, “I know it’s helped you a lot, but sometimes it really does feel like a circus.”

He ran his hand along your back, resting his head against your shoulder and pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. The nagging thoughts returned, lingering in the back of his mind. This circus wasn’t just noise anymore, it had started to touch things close to him. Right in front of you.

“You really don’t have any problem with all that?” he asked quietly.

You snuggled closer, reassuring, “Of course not. I haven’t laughed this much in ages, especially because of things like that.”

“And when I open my flower shop, you’ll be the star opener,” you added playfully. “So be ready for more of this madness.”

He laughed and kissed you as you rambled on about the future, imagining how chaotic it might get, how you’d juggle both college and your small flower shop. He listened closely, eyes never leaving your face.

“Thanks to you, I really feel like I can pull off doing both,” you said, smiling with heartfelt sincerity.

He brushed a strand of hair from your face and replied, “No, you shouldn’t thank me. It’s going to be your hard work.”

“Of course,” you said, “but you’ll still be the star opener. Don’t forget that. And after that, I’ll send Yenna flowers every single day.”

“She’ll love that,” he nodded, and you both smiled.

The golden evening sunlight filled the room, wrapping everything in a calm glow. You kept talking about what-ifs, about dreams and futures. You liked how relaxed Eli had become lately. You knew why. And though he still had a long way to go, still carried some ghosts of guilt and lingering doubts, but it was okay. You were just happy he could think for himself now. Happy that the burden wasn’t as heavy as before.

Wrapped in a cocoon of warmth, comfort, and silence, nothing else needed to be said. Nothing needed to be added.

Until....

“Eli Jang. 0 points.”

You both flinched at the sudden voice.

Annoyance flickered across Eli’s face. As much as he had softened lately and allowed himself to be more affectionate, he had also become more openly vocal about what and who displeased him. The man in front of him was high on that list.

“My shift is over,” Eli said flatly, his grip on you firm.

“The owner of a business doesn’t rest just because their shift is over,” Hudson replied, matter-of-fact. “They don’t stop until their empire is built.”

Eli’s jaw clenched, clearly more irritated. And you? Well, you weren’t complaining at all, because, if you were being honest, you lived for these hysterics.

[pandora-writes-one-piece]

Get to know your mutuals!

*grabs mic and clears throat* Thank you so much @jintaka-hane and @igiulss for tagging me! I love these things and I love you girls! ❤️

Favorite Colors: Black, purple, and red. I was a bit of a goth teen, and my favorite colors never really got to change 😎

Currently Reading: SMUT! *snort* I used to care a lot about what I read, trying to stick to 'good literature' and the classics and all, but I'm now at a stage of my life where I stoped giving a f*ck and now I read what the hell I feel like. Judgment be damned. So I'm going through the ACOTAR series, devouring them like a madwoman. I have Edgar Allan Poe's short stories giving me the stink eye from my nightstand, and I might use him as a palate cleanser after!

Last Song: Oh, I've been cranking the Imperfect soundtrack I created on Spotify to get me in the mood for the next chapter, and the last one that played was, curiously enough, Imperfect by Stone Sour. I can't get enough of Corey Taylor, that man is a God!

Last Film: I barely watch any TV. I read and write in my spare time, so the last movie I saw was in the movie theatre and I took my son, so we got to see the live action of Lilo & Stitch! I enjoyed it a lot! 🥰

Sweet/Salty/Sour: All of them???? I mean... I can't choose! I have a very sweet tooth, but I love sour things... and salty snacks? UGH! Why are you doing this to me??? Gun to the head: sweet!

Tea or Coffee: Coffee. 100% coffee. Expressos, please. Or how we call it here in Portugal: bica. Actually was discussing this with Giuls just yesterday. I need at least 4 of them on a daily basis. 😍

Working On: Too many things at the same time, actually 😆 I'm working on Imperfect, Kid's Meet-Cute and I'm also throwing a few paragraphs for chapter 2 of All of Yourself, as well as trying to plan and write a very challenging longfic for my main account with ships like: SaNami, LawBin, Ace&Vivi and ZoTash.

I'm going to tag *checks to see who hasn't been tagged yet* @physics-of-one-piece @laidenbreecatchall @isabeauwolf and anyone else who wants to jump in on the fun wagon!

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Nanami Headcanons: Serious Obsessive Love (Jujutsu Kaisen)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am back, and this one-up is Nanami and his Base Yandere Headcanons! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter here, my muffins!] 

(Disclaimer: Nanami is not Yandere in canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are! You Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Thank you!)  -Base Yandere Headcanons With Yandere Nanami X Gender Neutral Reader From Jujutsu Kaisen-

.Nanami is a man that original found that being a Jujutsu sorcerer sucked and he did not want to do it, but then he learned having a regular nine to five also sucks.

.He chose to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer as it sucked less and he felt small amounts of geninue apprecation from innocent people he saved.

.For him, that was enough to live the life he chose without regrets!

.He believes that love sucks and being in love sucks, so when he fell in love for you he knew that it would suck.

.But he could not get you out of his head, and he wanted to have you as the life partner he would have.

.He is a kind man who has his true feelings reserved, and he comes off as very serious and even a bit stern.

.But he is a really kind and caring even though he does not show it to most people.

.He is the type of man who can separate his sentimental emotions for you from the stuff he works with.

.So he can take his obsessive love for you very seriously and can separate his obsessive love for you from his work.

.He can keep a professional side to him and not let his feelings for you get in the way of his work. 

.He is one of the most serious and organized yanderes there is, who can manage his feelings and know when it is not okay to cross a line with you. 

.He is very blunt and forward with what he wants and what he wants to do with you. 

.He is up front about his feelings for you, but also knows that confessing his love for you right away is not the best choice, so he would hold off on that for now.  .He takes his love for you very seriously and is planning a future with you. 

.He knows that he might not be able to be around for the long haul because he is a Jujutsu Sorcerer. 

.His life is on the line every day, and he would want you to be taken care of, so he would have the best life insurance on him, so that you are set if anything happens to him. 

.He is protective of you and would want you to hold onto your sense of safety and innocence, as well as your ignorance of how dark the world is. 

.He wants to make sure that you are safe and sound and can live a life where you are unaffected by how dark the world is. 

.If you do find out how dark the world is and how dangerous it is, he prepares you to be able to stand on your own and able to survive. 

.He knows that when your life is put in danger, he might not be able to protect you, and so he would do everything that he can to protect you, even teaching you how to survive the worst things in the world. 

.He is a practical yandere who is willing to teach you to know all the things to survive, because he does not want you to depend solely on him. 

.He wants you to be able to save yourself if you have to, but he would have manipulated you so that you trust him and would never put up a fight against him. 

.He wants you to trust him and have faith in him, but also be able to stand on your own, and for you to be able to not only survive but also thrive! 

.He is the type of yandere that, once he gets close to you, he is very sociable and able to spend a lot of time with you. 

.He loves to talk to you and spend time with you, going on many dates and having deep conversations with you. 

.He is the type of yandere who enjoys spending time with you so much, and he cherishes all the time that he can spend with you. 

.With rivals, he has NO time for their nonsense, he does not like to do overtime, and he feels the same way about dealing with rivals. 

.Any time he has to spend on rivals is something that serious pisses him off, for someone to waste his time of being with you. 

.They think they are worthy of you, and therefore they are wasting HIS time being with you. 

.He does not kill them right away, unless they are a curse. 

.If they are human he would beat the crap out of them, to make sure they get the message to stay clear of you. 

.That is after they did not back off when he had first confronted them.  .He would have confronted them and told them to stay clear of you, if they did not listen and tried to get close to you, then he would have beat the crap out of them. 

.If they kept pushing after that, he would have a curse go after them to kill them, and then kill the curse to cover up that he was involved with it. 

.If anyone hurts you, he would kill them, with zero hesitation, regardless of whether they are a human or a curse. 

.When he finally does confess his love to you, he is going to be blunt to you about it. There is no doubt about what he is telling you, and he is very serious in his love confession. 

.If you accept his love, he will then tell you that you are his and that he is going to love you and take care of you. 

.You basically made a verbal contract to be his, and he will never ever let you go. 

.If you turned down his love, he would say he accepts it, but he is planning on kidnapping you and making sure that you are his. 

.He would indeed kidnap you, and he promises you will have freedom again, once he makes you love him and that he can trust you. 

.He will be able to tell if you are pretending to love him, and he will not let you pull the wool over his eyes. 

.And once you truly love him, he will love you and allow you to have freedoms again, but not a single second before that. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope that you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!]