#hes both strong and sneaky/hard to hit

[bigdumbbird]

was invited to play in a new campaign by a friend thus I must introduce my newest bastard

[evanchantingpeters]

How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 2)

Pairings ─ Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)

Genre ─ Smut/fluff, Romance

Summary ─ Y/N is fresh in East Hollywood, LA. After a major life overhaul, she’s ready to dive into a new chapter. So, when she hits the town for a night out with friends, she unexpectedly crosses paths with none other than actor Evan Peters. Y/N tries to keep her cool and act all nonchalant, but damn, Evan’s interest throws her for a loop. Their first meeting? Total tension and flirtation, hinting at an evening full of surprises.

Warnings ─ Obscene language, semi-public, dry humping, oral (both receiving), fingering, overstimulation, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, rough sex, extra smutty—you guys know the drill ;)

Read Part 1 here.

Word count ─ 4K

18+ This is ADULT content. I’m not your mummy to supervise your net access. If you’re a minor, do NOT read!

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

If you were told ten minutes ago that you’d be straddling Evan Peters, skin-on-skin in the driver’s seat of his car, grinding your soaked pussy against his solid rock hard-on while your tongues explore each other like it’s a competition until your lips get swollen, you’d be like, “Yeah, right, when pigs fly.”

But here you are, parked in some dark, secluded spot near the club you’ve just met. Your moans bounce off his car windows as he hungrily fondles handfuls of your body. You do love you some manhandling, truth be told.

You have your friends’ blessings about leaving with someone. Though, the chances of them believing you’ve pulled and bagged Evan Peters as your sneaky link for the night are slim to none, especially after you lecture Adria on the celebrities-normies combo being far-fetched. But it’s fair to say you didn’t choose the night with Evan Peters; the night with Evan Peters chose you.

His veiny hands on you and his gravelly voice against your ear trigger a muscle memory, recalling the heat you felt—but never vocalised—during Murphy’s close-ups on Evan’s hands in the Dahmer series and his viral ‘Relax, I just wanna take some pictures’ line. His baritone in that unsettling scene still gives you chills.

“Damn, miss...you’re something else,” he rasps out with a sly smile. You become his Roman Empire as he worships the sight of all of you on top of him, eyes devouring your entire body as you move gracefully, biting your bottom lip.

He groans deeply as his hands knead your tits and waist all the way down your thighs. With a cheeky squeeze of your ass, he draws you closer, a little squeal escaping you as his raging erection rubs harsher against your wet centre.

“I’m dying to fuck you,” he huffs after your lips meet again, his eyes imploring as he buckles his hips against yours. The friction sends your arousal flying. You just know he’s the type who promises to rail you until your guts rearrange and actually delivers. Better hold on tight.

With a coy grin, you reach down and caress his bulge straining under his jeans. “I can tell,” you whisper, your hot breath making him shudder as you mischievously trace his upper lip with your tongue.

Evan sucks in a sharp breath and bucks against your touch with a choked grunt. You can feel his length convulsing beneath you, your wetness still squishing against him.

“No...for real, Y/N. You’re insanely hot...and while I wanna bang your brains out right now, I don’t wanna objectify you. I respect you an—”

You cut him off mid-sentence with another steamy kiss. The urge to sit him in front of a mirror as he unravels his feminist, anti-alpha male stance, all while you jerk him off before riding the shit out of him, is stronger than ever.

“Aren’t you a sweetheart, Evan? So virtuous with your strong values and morals,” you praise his ‘golden-retriever’ and ‘husband material’ nature, delicately caressing his cheek. “But let’s cut to the chase—I’m here to hook up.”

With newfound energy, you attack his neck with eager kisses as you roll your hips against him more vigorously. Your fingertips roam over his sculpted Greek-God chest, travelling down to the contours of his divinely marbled abs.

Body is damn bodying.

You go on full “pick-me girl” mode as you purr, “I’m thirsty” and playfully toy with the buckle of his belt, hinting at your intentions. You can’t let that mound on his jeans go unnoticed; it’s practically screaming for your attention and attentive care.

He lets out a dark chuckle against the crook of your neck as he nibbles his way up to your jawline. “How can I quench your thirst?” he murmurs, now nipping at your pouty lips.

“You’re the best refreshment around,” you hush before swiftly shifting to the passenger seat and bending over, knees near your head and ass pointed skywards in a tantalising display he can’t resist.

You begin to pepper mouth-watering kisses along his chest, sliding down to his boner. Your tongue stumbles over the ridges of his abs as you venture lower, your moaning mouth leaving a trail of fire in its wake.

He cocks his head to the side with a knowing smirk, admiring the view that the curve of your ass provides, smacking it along the way.

With practised ease, you undo his jeans, palming the damp patch of pre-cum on his boxers. Glancing up at him with a crooked smile, you coo, “Eager, are we?” before sliding down his boxers.

His head lolls back, muffled moans escaping him as you swipe your tongue along the underside ridge of his hard, red-tipped cock. His breath rushes out in laboured, choppy huffs like his life depends on you. The way you take him deeper, double-fisting him, becomes his lifeline.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” he manages to utter under his breath as he tenses in your grasp. You mewl softly around his cock, sending vibrations rippling through his body like shockwaves.

You’re insatiable, sucking him up from taint to balls, coating him in your saliva as you pump him harder in your mouth. Your swollen cunt is aching for him as you feel his head harden and twitch in your mouth with building pressure, forcing gagging moans out of you.

Gripping your hair in a messy ponytail, he watches intently as he fucks your mouth with increasing intensity. His free hand brushes along your clothed slit, his sturdy fingers running up and down your soaked panties. You gasp at the stimulus, clinging to the door handle for support.

“E-Evan,” you slur out as he applies more pressure on your throbbing heat, your words faltering as ragged breaths escape you.

“Yes?” He whispers, feigning innocence, though his arched brow and smirk betray his true intentions. He knows he can edge you with minimal effort, making you cum in his hands on the spot.

“Don’t stop,” you plead through your desire, your hips swaying in harmony with his rhythmic in-out motion.

“Keep sucking, baby girl. You drive me nuts, but I wanna see you multitask,” he challenges, no pun intended with his nuts reference.

As he tucks aside your lacy panties, he begins to circle your arousal, teasing your slopping folds. A low grunt slips off him as he feels how wet and ready you are for him. “Jeez, I need to take a dive in those Niagara Falls,” he chuckles and keeps fiddling around your throbbing clit.

Before you know it, he plunges two fingers in your begging entrance, eliciting a whimper from your lips that’s louder than you expect. The way he expertly curls his fingers inside you, hitting all the right spots, sends bolts of pleasure through your core.

Soon, the sound of your moans blends with the wet squelching of your pussy, echoing throughout the car.

The faster his fingers pop in and out, the louder you moan in delight as you suck his dick relentlessly. When his thumb joins in, smoothly rubbing against your clit with no mercy, your thighs begin to wobble.

His fingering inevitably loses momentum as he tightens his grip on your hair. You giggle quietly as you realise he’s about to hit his climax, his head striking against the back of your throat, causing your eyes to well up with tears.

“Fuuuck, I’m gonna burst, Y/N,” he growls, delivering a sharp slap to your ass. His fingers dig into the sensitive flesh of your thighs, leaving faint red marks on them. He lets out the cutest, most contrasting sounds—something between a low groan and a high-pitched whimper—as his hips thrust harder each time.

With a wicked grin, you intensify your suction on his tip, sending him over the edge with a primal groan. His hot cum spurts into your mouth, filling it with its salty sweetness, before trickling down your chin. You eagerly lick his shaft clean and swallow his juices with greedy gulps, savouring his taste with a satisfied hum.

“Told you, you’ve freshened me up,” you chirp, playfully wiping him off your face. “You’re okay?” you ask with a bashful smile, reaching out to brush back the sweaty curls that have clung to his forehead.

He throws his head back, his chest still heaving with shallow pants as he stares at you with hooded eyes. “Damn, you’re good...I’m wrecked,” he breathes out.

Grinning lazily at you, he buries your face in his hands and grazes your cheeks with his thumbs.

“If you need a dopamine boost, I’ve got just the cure for you,” you coo and lean in close, twirling a strand of hair around your finger.

“Oh, yeah? What’s the prescription, doc?” he teases, his eyes dark with lust as he bites his lip, his hands massaging your ass cheeks. It’s a silent prompt for you to climb back over him as his mouth desperately fumbles your skin.

You peer into his lustrous eyes with a sly smirk. “Sure, I can give you a ride, sir,” you purr, your fingers tracing tantalising patterns through his locks.

His grin widens as your sex alights on his crotch that’s twitching eagerly at the prospect. “I’m all for it,” he murmurs, pulling you close for another heated kiss.

His arms envelop you as you bend together towards the compartment by the passenger’s seat with shared anticipation. Your hands remain entwined around the back of his neck as you sprinkle kisses across his flushed face.

He delves into the container, rifling through its contents. “Shit,” he hisses, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“Houston, we have a problem?” you ask, your voice deep with desire.

“Mission abort...out of condoms,” he admits, his eyes meeting yours with regret.

“Consider it solved, let’s head to mine.”

You fling open the door to your apartment, ushering Evan inside with a goofy grin. “Come on in and behold the fortress of fun!” you announce, gesturing grandly to the vibrant interior.

He giggles and steps inside, taking in the cosy yet funky vibe of your place. “Dang, this place’s dope,” he compliments, nodding approvingly at the eclectic mix of pop art and rococo décor.

You beam proudly. “Thanks! Gotta give props to my housemate, Mayra. She’s the mastermind behind all this coolness,” you explain as you lead him down the hall towards the living room, giving him a quick peek into your room.

“Ah, gotcha. She’s got skills,” Evan comments appreciatively as you both shuffle back to the living room, clearly digging the ambiance.

He scans the space more thoroughly this time before turning back to you. “Is your housemate around?” he inquires casually, hands in pockets.

You shake your head, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Nah, she’s living it up in NYC for work. Won’t be back for a while,” you reply with a shrug, not missing the mischievous shine in Evan’s eyes as he looks you up and down.

His gaze darkens slightly as he inches closer with a smug smile that grows with every step, pinning you against the wall next to a small table stand. “Just you and me, then, huh?” he murmurs, his voice coarse and velvety just like it turns you on.

You affirm him with a smirk. Your fingers tangle in the soft strands of his hair as he closes the distance between you with a soft kiss that rapidly turns into a full-blown makeout session. What begins as sensual brushstrokes—your lips caressing softly—soon morphs into a heated exchange, your tongues kicking off a seductive twirl.

With a breathy moan, you shed his jacket and tug at his shirt, balling it up with a scrunch as you press his chiselled body firmer against yours.

“I like your lips,” he rasps out between kisses, a broad smile etched on his lips.

“My horizontal or vertical lips?” you toss out nonchalantly with a smirk, seemingly unfazed by any potential consequences. As if that isn’t daring enough, your gaze pierces into his eyes, radiating a sexual intensity that tips him off the edge.

He reciprocates your challenge with a devilish grin, as it’s his turn to strip you off your jacket and dress. His gaze is hungry as he takes you in. “Let me do an audit down there first, assess the vertical ones, and I’ll come back to you,” he mumbles as he drags sensual kisses down your boobs.

You moan softly as he latches onto your perky nipples, giving them a tantalising pull that only worsens your wetness down there.

His mouth trails down your body and sucks onto your hip bones until it finally presses against the fabric of your thong, right on your clit. You instinctively arch your back and grip the edges of the table as he kisses and inhales against you with a hum of delight.

“Where’s my boy dinner?” he teases, staring up at you. He stretches your panties down and leaves a kiss on the peak of the mound between your legs, causing you to squirm in his firm hold.

You shoot him a sultry grin, your voice tinged with desire. “Where do you want it served?”

With a swift movement, he flips you over, offering deliciously tingling love bites on your ass cheeks. As he rises to his full height, his lips shower your neck with fervent kisses.

You instinctively rest your head onto his shoulders, granting him easier access, and you can’t help but moan lightly as you feel the firm press of his hardness against your lower back.

“You see that couch over there?” he coos. You’re quick to grab onto his belt and tug him over there without breaking the kiss. You both let out muffled moans and smile-kiss as Evan finds his leg ensnared in the folds of a blanket, miserably fighting to wiggle himself free.

You slump down on the couch together, him on top, and instantly dive into a deeper kiss. His groans fill your mouth, assaulting your senses. You playfully suck on the tip of his tongue as you feel his stiff cock on your stomach, eager to set free.

“I’ll lick my plate clean, I promise. I just want you to feed me,” he begs, flashing you an imploring look.

“How do you want it?”

“On my face...only for me to feast,” he grins, pulling you in for another sloppy kiss while groping around your thighs all the way up your tits.

Lying on your back, you watch as he stands beside you and slowly chucks your thong away. His eyes fixate on your slick sex with a mix of awe and hunger, his fingers itching to dig in and explore.

You spread your thighs wider, inviting him closer between your legs, hands on his chest. He positions his head under you, his warm breath tingling your skin. His mouth brushes along your inner thighs, leaving tender kisses as he moves closer to where you want him to be.

And then, without warning, he savagely stretches apart your dripping pussy and licks a long stripe along your slick folds, making you squeak with pleasure. Groaning with delight at your taste and the slimy texture, his lips begin to suck on your clit.

You gasp and instinctively clutch his biceps as his tongue starts to glide against your slit, forcing choked whines from deep within you.

“Fuck, I could eat you out all day long,” he moans against you, his hands gripping your ass tightly as his licking becomes harsher and more aggressive. Damn, even his voice alone can make you squirt in an instant. There’s nothing about him that can give you the ick.

Your mind goes all foggy as his nose lightly nuzzles your clit. His tongue tirelessly laps back and forth against your sobbing red pussy, twirling along your gummy walls. He lifts you up by the hips, his tongue sinking deeper each time as he pulls you down onto his face. You drop your head back, a string of moans spilling from your lips.

Your toxic trait is believing that this is just a hook-up, and you won’t catch any feelings. Even when you’re riding Evan Peters’ face, receiving head so good your coochie can explode.

Well, why toxic? E v a n P e t e r s has you seeing stars as he works his magic on your clit and jams his tongue inside you like there’s no tomorrow. And there may not be a tomorrow, so why not just enjoy him on you, next to you, under you, or in you while it lasts? He makes you feel like the hottest and luckiest chick on earth (sorry, fandom), that’s just straight facts.

Reconsidering, you set off a swirling dance on his face to keep up with his pace, your legs getting all quivery. The knot in your stomach stiffens as your high builds, hitting you like a train wreck.

“Evan, fucking hell... I’m finishiiing,” you almost scream shakily as you fight for breath, your vision getting hazy. Your legs involuntarily tense around his head, and your knees tremble, while small, punchy sobs slip off your lips.

You catch him staring at you, a triumphant smile spreading on his lips as you writhe and wriggle back and forth under him, the throes of your orgasm in full glory.

He draws comforting circles on your stomach and plants sweet pecks on your thighs, giving you space to catch your breath. Your hand cradles his face as your vagina keeps throbbing, making you giggle from the tingly sensation.

“I want more,” he cries out, his lips curving downwards in a mock frown as he presses a few more gentle kisses on your heat before you climb off his face, your steps unsteady.

“Then, make sure you tone down your clit game. Most men act like it doesn’t even exist,” you scoff as you throw shade, shooting him a teasing grin as you clean his chin from your juices and his saliva.

“How can you take away the tomato from tomato juice? Same goes for Evan and a woman’s climax when I eat pussy,” he retorts, flexing his muscles with an arrogant smirk.

You playfully roll your eyes, ready for a comeback. “Sorry to humble you, but for us ladies, it’s mostly a mental process. Too many tricks won’t cut it,” you counter, picking up your underwear from the floor.

He raises a sceptical brow and narrows his eyes at you, his tongue sliding against his side teeth. “Oh, really? Care to see my tactic and put that theory to the test?”

“Be my guest,” you smirk with a provocative flair, motioning towards your bedroom with a sweep of your arm.

He seizes your arm, pulling you close, and melds his lips with yours in a fiery kiss. As his tongue enters your mouth, you can still taste yourself on him, making your cunt pulsate for him tenfold. You’re so turned on that you’d fold no matter what he asks you to do.

“Challenge accepted, you’ve been warned,” he quips, wagging a finger at you before scooping you up his arms and carrying you to the bedroom.

There you are, sprawled out in the middle of your bed, all bare and irresistible, sensually touching your body as your eyes lock onto his.

His imposing figure looms over you as he unzips his jeans, instantly giving you heart palpitations. With a lustful half-smile, he tilts his head and lets his eyes linger at your legs, testing his rizz.

Realising he’s only zeroing in your glistening cunt, you deliberately part your legs, granting him a sneak peak into your “inner world” up to his appetite. “Here it is, baby Ev, all yours and ready,” you grumble, a bright grin stretching across his face as he observes your marvellous pussy.

Talk about a man who sticks to his promises! He said he’d take on your “inside work” while chatting you up at the bar, and here he comes, offering in-house service.

With ease, he sheaths himself in a condom, his gaze never leaving yours as he crouches down on you, propped up on his toned forearms (veins popping all over, goodness me). Pressed flush against you, he peppers eager kisses along your face, neck, and tits, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine.

“I wanna take good care of you,” he whispers, his hands travelling on your body.

Wrapping your legs around him, you let out a needy moan in a desperate attempt to get him inside. Your tongue pushes feverishly into his warm mouth, and he sucks on it gently, eliciting more soft whines from you.

He pulls away, tut-tutting softly against your lips. “Not yet, baby girl. First, tell me how much you want it.”

“Like mad,” you reply with a fervent nod. “And give it to me hard.”

With his throbbing length poised at your drenched entrance, a shared gasp brings smiles to your faces before turning into exhilarating groans. His eye contact never wavers, and from that missionary angle, he looks so Lana Del Rey “West Coast” coded, goddammit.

Your bodies mesh and merge together quicker than a click. Each thrust is a slow and agonising burn, as if he does it on purpose for you to beg him for more. You ache to explore every inch of him, but he just prolongs his torture by leaving only his tip nested inside you.

That’s until his gaze sears into your soul, and you feel him plunge back deep in with a force that sends you reeling, flooding you with ecstasy.

Your body jolts at the abrupt fullness, a raw wail of satisfaction ripping out of your lips as you dig your nails into his shoulder blades.

Taking the reins, he captures your hands above your head, lacing your fingers with his as he sets a relentless pace. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, and before you know it, the room reverberates the sound of skin slapping mingled with your mutual moans.

He releases one of your hands, fingers tracing patterns of comfort on your wrist as he slams in you faster and rougher. “Fuck, you feel amazing, Y/N,” he grunts hoarsely as he watches his cock disappearing into your dripping heat, a satisfied grin plastered on his lips.

Your body responds eagerly to his rough ministrations, hips rising to meet his with a desperate need to go harder. The rush of your pleasure overwhelms you as you yelp his name.

He meets your gaze with a cocky smile as his hand brushes along your lips, his hot breath a tempting tease on your face. Driven by your unhinged horny ass, you delicately snatch his ring finger into your mouth, licking and sucking on it as he grumbles joyfully, driving deeper into me.

“Evan...” you whimper, momentarily squeezing your eyes shut to handle his magnitude.

“You like it rough, baby girl?” he asks in a raspy tone, and his throaty chuckle rings in your ear, sending bolts of electricity down your spine.

“I do,” you gasp chokingly as you look up at him with imploring eyes. “Just right there.”

With a gleam in his eyes, he lifts your legs, draping them loose over his shoulders to penetrate even deeper. The slimy walls of your cunt grip onto his dick like they’re about to devour it, throwing him to the edge.

Your foreheads press together in a feverish intimacy as he pushes you closer to release. His hungry eyes fixate on the jingle of your boobs, his groans of delight mixing with the frantic rhythm of your heartbeats.

“Let me cum inside, Y/N, please. I need to feel you around me,” he begs, his voice strained with desire. His words hang heavy in the air, laden with raw desire as he gazes at you with an intensity that makes your heart race. Your lips meet in a fiery kiss, your tongues moving in sync.

Just as you’re about to cave, a sudden loud crash echoes from the hallway and shatters the air, causing both of you to freeze in place.

His eyes widen with alarm, mirroring your dread, and you instinctively cling to his arm for support.

Wide-eyed and tense, you exchange worried glances, his typically zen demeanour replaced by a flicker of uncertainty. “What was that?” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the pounding of your heart.

“I-I... I don’t know,” you stutter as you smooth out your hair.

A second loud thud breaks out, and it’s louder than the last, making your shrill in terror. Sensing your tremor and the urgency of the situation, Evan scoots closer to you and muffles any incoming outcry by gently covering your mouth with his hand.

“Shh.. easy... I’m with you, Y/N,” he mumbles, kissing the crown of your head. “Okay, let me throw on my clothes and go check. You stay here,” he instructs in a hushed tone, giving you a soft peck as he scrambles near him to pick up his scattered shirt and boxers.

Still nestled in his embrace, your grip tightens on his arm as he makes a move to stand up. “No, Evan,” you protest whisper-shouting. “Let’s go together.”

He hesitates and sighs in exasperation at your refusal to stay in safely. But, ultimately, he nods, his jaw set with determination.

You hastily slip into your satin robe, ready to face whatever danger lurks in the shadows. Hand in hand, you both venture cautiously into the dimly lit corridor as you stand behind him, your senses heightened in anticipation of what you might find.

The tension is palpable as you switch on more lights, illuminating your path as you dive deeper into the unknown.

After scouring every room, you return to the living room, puzzled. “There’s no one in, so we can rule out a break-in or th—” Evan’s words are cut short by a series of loud bangs resounding from the balcony, forcibly pulling your focus to the final frontier in your quest for answers.

“Promise me you’ll stay in. I got this,” he mumbles with a determined gaze. You nod silently with a bated breath, unable to utter a single syllable.

With resolve, he steps outside, the night air is thick with suspense as you watch him while biting your cuticles. Meanwhile, you pace nervously, your mind spiralling through disaster scenarios.

Suddenly, his voice pierces the silence as he calls out your name, giving you the jump scare.

“Evaaan?” you howl frantically as you sprint to the balcony, your heart racing and your hair whipping in the wind. 

Relief washes over you as you spot him pointing to a twisted chunk of neon metal lying on the ground, bathed in the moon’s glow. The gusty wind continues to slam the panel against the sliding door, confirming your suspicions.

You lean over the balcony, verifying that the fallen piece has flown from the drugstore sign banner next to your apartment—just a harmless casualty of the night. “I’ll drop it off for repairs tomorrow,” you mindlessly assure Evan as you share a chuckle that mixes nerves with relief.

His grip tightens around your waist as he suggests heading back inside. You both retreat indoors, leaving the metal piece by the balcony door.

“Water?” you offer, and he accepts with a grateful nod, his gaze softening in appreciation.

As you saunter to the kitchen together, you catch him checking you out as you bend over the counter and reach up on your tippy toes to grab a glass.

Just as you’re about to stride out of the room, your cleavage skimming his chest a bit too long, he swiftly corners you against the glass kitchen door.

“Where you think you’re sneaking off to?” he whispers, a smirk playing on his lips as his hands wander over your upper half.

Your eyes flicker across his face as you struggle to draw a breath, your heart pounding with anticipation. “Out?” you manage to squeak.

He inches closer, his voice dripping with suggestion, “We’ve got some unfinished business, don’t we?” he murmurs as his stubble grazes against your jaw, intensifying the pool between your thighs.

“Remind me?” you tease, your lips curving mischievously. You’re in your villain era; if not Evan Peters fucking you, why even bother?

He slides a hand under your loose robe and tenderly tweaks your nipples, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. A gasp escapes you at the sensation as his fingers find their way to your clit, setting off a relentless rub that brings a buzzing on your sensitive bundle of nerves. It’s like with each stroke, he’s hitting the pleasure jackpot.

Panting, you sway your hips to match his rhythm, lost in sensation. The play of his thumb on your clit drives you wild, leaving you craving more.

“Bring me a condom, and I’ll give you a reminder,” he chuckles, and in an erratic heartbeat, his lips crash onto yours, warm and demanding. You melt into the kiss as the room spins around you. He kisses you harshly, nearly biting you with a reckless passion, desire raging like a tempest.

With this move, things accelerate viciously. Gone is the playful banter; now it’s all primal need, Evan turning animalistic towards you. In a blur of motion, your body ends up pressed into the cold surface of the glass door; his hands firmly cupping your breasts from behind; his cock throbbing and pounding inside your slippery centre; raw horniness bursting forth through loud moans and grunts.

He’s so damn big, stretching your pussy to the point it stings. He doesn’t give you much time to adjust before he pulls out and jams back in you with primitive force. The door lock rattles incessantly as he pounds into you hard, his lips embellishing your soft skin with red, soon-to-be purple marks, his hot breath making you shiver.

He clings to you, his stomach against your lower back, hips still snapping into your soaked cunt. Together, you set a rhythm, rocking in and out with a measured tempo and sensual grace.

The pain blends divinely with euphoria in your body, leaving your mind foggy and dizzy as he continues to jab in and out of you despite your whimpers. His balls slap against your clit, making your climax hurtle towards you like a tidal wave. Salty tears of pleasure prickle at the corners of your eyes. “I’m close, Evan,” you yelp, your knees beginning to fail you.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he praises out of breath as he smacks your ass, kneading all the way down your clit. “Let go, give it to me,” he urges, punctuating his last word with a particularly deep thrust, jerking inside you and causing your screams to spill out.

Pleasure shoots you like an electric shock, and soon, liquid dribbles down your legs. As the tension in your lower belly finally cracks, you feel him buckle as well, his hips stuttering. Letting out a guttural groan, he gushes out inside of you, followed by small whines of your name.

You urgently ask him to peel the condom away and spill his cum all over your ass and back. Soon, white, sticky cum from both of you mingles and trickles around you until you become a leaky, sticky mess.

His arms band around your waist, your fingers intertwined, his smiling eyes drowning in yours.

“Fuck, what did you do to me, Y/N?” he sighs, and you both giggle, your sweaty lips meeting again in a passionate kiss.

After a mutual clean-up, you slide into a fresh nightgown and return to your room, only to find Evan rummaging under your bed, his firm backside an enticing sight.

“What are you looking for?” you ask, enjoying the view as you lean against the doorframe.

“My car keys,” he growls, his brows furrowed in concentration as he takes a glimpse behind the curtains. “Must’ve fallen out when I took my pants off,” he infers with a low and husky voice as he glances back at you.

You nod sympathetically, folding your bed throw neatly on the corner armchair. His gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he resumes his search, the tension between you growing thicker by the second.

“It’s late already. You can crash here tonight, and we’ll track down your stuff in the morning,” you suggest, settling onto the bed.

He looks up, relief sets on his handsome features as he creeps back towards you. “You sure?” he murmurs, his arms encircling your waist, his touch igniting sparks of arousal.

“Never been surer,” you breathe, leaning in for a kiss, unable to resist the pull between you.

But just as your lips meet, the jingle of keys shatter the moment, and you feel something sharp lightly nudging your lower waist. Pulling back, you shoot Evan a knowing smirk, your pulse racing with excitement.

With a nonchalant shrug and a wink, he tosses the keys onto the bedside table before pulling you under the covers and into a heated kiss.

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Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling

@evanchantingpeters — All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[adventuringblind]

So Powerful, So Vulnerable

Landoscar x Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Mafia AU, more crack than anything with the way I wrote it.

Summary: Lando has a meeting on neutral ground. Oscar has to make the switch. How'd she get caught in a petty crossfire?

Warnings: Attempted r@pe, gun violence, knives, blood,

Notes: This was far more fun to write than I expected. Another request done!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

She sighs, watching Lando hit his head on the steering wheel of the car. She wants to laugh at his dramatics. You'd think he wouldn't be so whiny since he's in charge of the areas strong Mafia, but she knows the truth.

"I Just - they had one job!" He moans and throws in a fake cry for good measure.

Oscar keeps throwing her looks from where he's spread out on the backseat. He and Lando also make it a point to keep her in the passenger seat and switch who drives. "It's an easy fix. Ten minutes tops, in and out, then back to our original plans." The Aussie shrugs.

"You'll make the switch?"

"Obviously, and if they shoot first, I'll shoot better."

~~~~~

The club rages around her. Not her preferred method of doing business. Dealing with people isn't her strong suit unless it's with a bullet to the head from the top of a building. Knives are fun to when things get messy.

The crowd is safer than the car if this does go south. Not that she's expecting it to, but better safe than sorry.

Oscar is already gone. He drops the money and gets the hostages while Lando goes to meet them on neutral ground. Simple as that.

Her job is to look pretty and watch the door that Lando had disappeared through. Mocktail in hand to make it look like she's part of the normal crowd.

Technically speaking, they'd only been together for the last year. Her and Oscar much longer than that. Though she has a sneaky suspicion Lando kept assigning both of them to the same jobs for a reason. If any jobs came up that required Lando to go out and needed people with him, they were the first he contacted.

If she had to guess, she'd say he orchestrated this relationship. She wouldn't have it any other way. It's not like any of them know how to do anything normally.

She tries not to grimace as a man saunters up to her. His movements unflattering and he smells like cigarettes. Her nose scrunches up in an effort to fight back her gag.

"You here all alone?" Even his voice is grating to her ears! Can this get even worse?

"My boyfriend is busy killing the guy that flirted with me earlier."

"Yeah right, anyone with that kind of attitude must be hard to flirt with." He scoffs. How mad would her partners be if she stabbed this man? No - she can't - they are trying to finish a deal. She'd blow the whole thing if she did that.

Actually - this guy looks familiar... She takes another drink of the non-alcoholic beverage.

"You alright? you look a little flushed."

"Yeah I'm-" Shit, she knows this feeling. More than that, she knows this man.

He's a hitman for the other gang. The one who has Lando's men. The one he's meeting with right now.

Her heart lurches. The fog in her head and heat are too much. Her body is going to give out on her.

She ends up stabbing him. The knife strapped to her thigh finds a home in Mr. Hitman's chest. He cries out in pain but doesn't pull it out. He smiles at her instead.

She tries to bolt, but three other sets of hands pin her. They drag her outside. The ground scraping against her skin in an uncomfortable way.

She sees the hitman fall to the ground; hears the thud as the pull her out the back where he was trying to follow.

Damn, she kind of liked that knife too. She'll have to go back for it later.

They already have Lando outside. Her blurry vision is enough to see him covered in blood, licking his lips. "You trying to take my girl?"

"Shut it, Norris. This is payback for what you did."

They start attempting to remove her clothes. Like she was going to go down without a fight. Her nails dig into the skin of whoever is close by. She pulls as hard as possible, skin from another getting stuck in her nails as she does.

Her body doesn't have the energy for more than that. She misses her knife. This would be easier if she still had it. The stabbing motion isn't difficult, and gravity would help.

"Get your filthy, fucking hands off of her!"

There is another round of fists clashing. "Maybe you shouldn't have killed four of my guys."

"You killed mine first! They made the deal exactly as intended and you still put a bullet through their skulls!"

This was all a setup then. They were planning on them showing up. Though, there is no way they know about Oscar. If they never intended on sending someone to make the switch, then they wouldn't have anyone on the roof.

Hands are everywhere, wrestling with her clothes. They don't get far, their intentions now clear. The shot echoes off the buildings. To close to be from the roof.

The man directly in front of her crumples to the ground. The spray of the blood from the shot sticks to her skin.

"I believe Lando said not to touch her." Oscar stands there holding the smoking gun.

She watches the fight break out around her. It's messy and loud, but her boys come out on top. As per usual with these things. She would've gladly joined in if these stupid drugs would let up.

The boss had scrambled away with his tail between his legs. Serves him right after this stunt. "Did he really not like you that much?" Oscar throws a raised eyebrow at Lando.

"Jealousy, I think." They work in tandem to heave her body upright and support her back to the car. "What happened on the roof?"

"I was waiting for any kind of signal but got nothing. Nobody showed up. So, I came back down and was greeted by six guns pointed at my head."

"They shot first, I presume?"

"But I shot better."

She doesn't need to see the smirk to know it's there.

~~~~~

The hot water of the bath feels exceptional against her skin. They'd scrubbed at blood for far too long. The raw skin finally being soothed is relaxing.

The drugs still haven't worn off. Her motor function is lacking, and her words are slurring together, but it's better than it was.

Lando and Oscar are keeping her upright. Her body resting against theirs. Fingers caress her skin. This is safety.

"Can't believe we've had to cancel our date." Lando plops three rubber ducks inside the bath. Oscar's ducks, mind you.

"Frankly, I think we could consider that a date. We went out, got covered in blood, now we're having a relaxing bath."

"You just don't like going out."

She's going to fall asleep here. Relaxed and at peace with her boys. The possibility of drowning unlikely. "I love you both."

"You're drugged and still got blood on you."

"Sexy."

"I killed someone for you."

"Romantic."

[dumbdollii]

SOON AS I GET HOME

pairing ! ━━ plug!dabi todoroki  x  sneaky!link! black!reader

cw ! ━━ minors do not interact. reader is black and thick coded, getting high w/ dabi, high!dabi slutting you out on the couch, pet names, mentions of nudity, dabi taking pics of u slumped out :((, breeding, sharing smoke by kissing with plug!dabi, fingering with his dick still inside, teasing.

note ! ━━ axe had me snickering Abt this au n now I'ma write abt it bc God knows how much she loves her lil burnt man.

"dabi, I'ma need to get put on with sum'. Its rough out here and you're my only hope." You said over the phone, heavy silence filled the phone, dabi laughing quietly. "You really are somethin', princess. 'ight, I'll give you somethin' good. Just wait outside your door, I'ma be out there in a lil while." He scoffed out, hanging up the phone as soon as you were gonna respond to him. 11:25 PM, that was the time you left the house and waited outside with nothing but some shorts, a sleeve shirt, and your bonnet. As the cold, silky wind hit your legs, look who dropped in, Dabi. He drove up to your block, already smoking a blunt with the shiny, tinted windows down.

"finally! Your ass took too fucking long..I'm freezing out here." Your tone sounded annoyed, considering dabi had you stand outside for a whole hard minute. "Relax princess, be happy I came just in time to see your pretty ass," He said as he parked the car and came out. Givin' your ass a slight slap, you jumped up a bit in pain and slapped his hand. "Harsh, but ight'." "nigga please don't start, what's harsh is that hairline of yours." You said as you laughed out loudly, he wasn't having it and scoffed. "Yea, right."

You walked to the front door and opened it, swiftly moving your body to the couch. With you bein' all bothered you started sighing and held your hand out, looking up at him with curious eyes. "Oh. My apologies. here you go, doll." "Thank you, roki." He throws you the bag, opening it and rolling up a blunt. His eyes widened at The nickname, surprised you'd even use his last name as a silly nickname for him. A few moments passed and you were already all up on Dabi, laying on his big, muscular frame.

Both of you were both heavily high and everything was like euphoria all over again. "I wanna try something new, roki." You whined in his ear. "Oh yea? Like what, rubbing your pussy all over me or what." "No, what? I-" he stopped you from speaking. "Actually, don't even tell me. I wanna try somethin' new with you," While he still was smoking the fuck out the blunt he had in his hand he kept the smoke in, kissing you in the process and letting it out into your mouth. Your body stiffened and the strong smoke rested in your mouth, kiss after kiss it was sloppy. The smoke came out through your nose with a stern huff. "fu..roki...~" You said, moaning out to him. "Damn princess, your moans are just as cute in real life then on the phone." And that's when he pulled away. Your body was so blissed out from the kiss, feeling a wet pool in your panties.

you really were never fond of dabi todoroki. He was always teasing you as a kid, and to see how much he changed, how much he longed to want you ; really did shock you back into reality. "Was that even...did you just put that in my- oh my god." He laughed in response. "What? Too shocked about what the hell I did to you? Don't worry, I know you wanted it Y/n. Let me slut that pretty pussy out, promise I'll make it your while, doll."

"you? Make my while? How bold of you Dabi Todoroki. I wouldn't hear your brother sayin' this shit at all. I'm surprised twice didn't come pop a damn cap in ya' ass." You said with annoyance. "Ohh, you wanna be funny, huh? Yea. I'ma make you moan then you gon' stop laughing." Obviously you didn't take that seriously, but knowing him it would be impossible to turn down an offer like this. "Soon as I get home you gon' miss my dick thrusting into you." You gulped. "Uhuh...yea."

Not even a moment after that happened you wouldn't expect yourself to be underneath him, being so submissive for him and moaning. Your tits bouncing back and forth while he slut you out on the same very couch you guys sat on. His fingers were still inside you from fingering you a while ago, thrusting harder into your tight cunt. "Goddamn, this pussy all mine, got that? All fucking mine. Sooner or later you'll learn to take my size every time I come to visit." Groans and huffs were heard from dabi, his body was shaking slightly while he fucked into you. He grabbed you thighs, throwing them over his shoulder and kissed your inner thighs with ease as you squirmed and huffed.

"Pl-please..ah!..I fucking h..hate you..~" "Hate me? Nah baby, you fuckin' love me. Don't be so stubborn when you're the one clamping around my dick like a bitch outta heat." His tone darkened. Nothing made him more horny then to see your pretty body on his, oh how he longed to touch you. You were just so...beautiful, how could he not resist making you have sex with him just this once? "Heh..~ look at you, drooling all over yourself and cryin' like a baby. Want me to take my fingers out, my lil' baby? Don't wanna squirt all over me?" Humiliation. The way he made you feel embarrassed only turned you on in the slightest second.

he pulled his phone out, knowing you were about to reach your climax soon. "Augh~! Shit...! Can-t, 'm gonna cum!". He felt your pussy flutter around his dick. Letting out a stern moan with it, he also felt himself coming to a halt. "Fuck..Y/n..shi...c'mon! cum on this dick, tryna feel your pussy all on me." You whimpered in response, now you know not to bet this nigga on anything.

You finally came, and so did he, but inside you. While trying to focus on your breathing he took his fingers out, and took his dick out too. Cum seeped through your needy hole, and that's when he took a picture of it. Taking videos and pictures of him teasing your pussy while you were blissed out, rubbing your clit while recording just to see his cum flow out. "Shit, honestly you did good. 'hope you alright though. Maybe this should be a daily thing." You finally had the strength to get up and dabi was already getting ready to clean you up. "Daily thing? Whew boy..you got something coming if u think this is gonna be something daily. I'ma miss you coming over though." You said as a stifled laugh left your throat and he rolled his eyes, ignoring you. "Yea, I'ma miss you too, princess.

all works ©NEKOWEB. Do not Plagiarize , redistribute , or post my work as your own, that will get an instant block.

[nightinjapan]

~Praise~

"AhHh..!~, hAaah..!~" he thrusts harder "y-you're such a good girl..~ n-nnhh~ can't- get enough of you..!~" Its been a long day but Izuku came home and felt you had a type of doubt so he wanted to let you know you're perfect even after a hard day and a half of kicking ass. If his wife was in need then like hell he was there for you. "NGH..!~" tears leave your eyes as you moan louder "'M- ALWAYS Y-OUR GOOD GIRL..!~ A-ALWAYS WANNA BE- AH..!!~ YOUR GOOD GIRL..!!~" you were barely in reality with how deep he was inside of you hitting your gspot in just the way that was sure to have your head hanging back, tongue lolling out. "G-gonna c-cum..!~ haahh..!~ I love you s-so much!~" his thrusts became more sloppy as he caressed your cheek tenderly "p-please look at me w-when you cum, p-puppyy..!~" that request having you flustered as hell. That being a lot for you, you let out a whine and pant "B-BUT- nnnhG..!~ I-I-ZU..!!~" your embarrassment takes over you but you lowkey build confidence to do it. "You're s-so beautiful.. p-please..!~ a-ahhh!~ e-everything about you 'S So perfect..!!~" he pants tilting her head up towards him " 'M Cumming!!~" he finally released his load inside her making sure she sees what she does to him. The desperate, lustful look in his once innocent eyes, the sweat from their active movements, the saliva from his mouth, everything. "L-look at me.. see what you do to me, love..?" He pants. You see him. You fell for his trick by telling you to look it was just a sneaky way of him asking you to look at him while you reached your high again but this time he flipped it. Win win. And he looks so hot to the point you lost it clinching around him as you went over the edge with him "MM-Z-K-HAAAAH..!!!~ your eyes almost closing but you grip onto him tight and looks back at him with all you have in you whining and moaning loudly. So cute and gorgeous for him you are. "Never.. insult yourself.. like that again.." he collapsed onto you chest completely exhausted but awake enough to give you comforting kisses. Your husbands heart beating a mile a minute. "Izuku..." you whisper out of breath and just as tired as him "was...was I good for you...?" you ask softly "O-of course you were.. you always are.. even just doing daily tasks.. you are enough" he says tiredly running his fingers through your hair You cuddle him "...I wish I-I had the same confidence as you..." He shifts so that you lay beside him not pulling out "I wasn't always as confident as I am.. sometimes I break down too.. often actually" he mumbles "Its only human of you I could understand..." you whine and wiggle around wanting him to hold you He wrapped his strong arms around your body pulling you in closer "you're funny.." he says playfully kissing your head softly you trace shapes along his battle scares "...so strong..." it makes him let out a tiny whine from not being a fan of those scares as he turns back into that "innocent" baby faced green haired boy. You giggles softly "What's that you told me before..?" He listens to you letting out a low hum in confusion "You're perfect..." he smiles softly chuckling at the way you uno reversed him. After you say your 'I love you's you both fall asleep in the sheets that your loves on. Who cares you guys'll get it in the morning.

[dootznbootz]

do you have a physical description of how penelope looks in your head??

lksjdf OH MY FUCKING GOD I ABSOLUTELY DO AND SHE'S HOT

Thank you for the ask, Niko!!!! :D

Thick straight black hair, no curls AT ALL. (Telemachus gets it all from Odysseus) And basically "Silver eyes" with larger pupils (being a naiad. (Odysseus is a very CLEAR "You're Athena's blorbo" but Penelope is sneaky with EVERYTHING she does. )

I have it where both Helen and Penelope have black hair and blue eyes (I don't want to spoil but it's very important in my fics) but that's where their physical similarities end. Helen's eyes will "strike you down. like her father's thunder" aka her eyes kind of stun you. honestly, if she were to close her eyes she'd be like any other human. still incredibly beautiful but not "bewitching" in "I can now think". Sometimes Helen will close her eyes if she realizes someone is kind of stunned to give them their "mind" back. Penelope's are silvery blue (Athena actually spoke to her before she spoke to Odysseus 😳 it was just by a few months though.) and Odysseus explains it where Helen's are about "force" in a way, as a child of Zeus. Penelope's "water you down" aka they expose you, erode you, like a river would. His eyes are stormy gray.

S-She…She splits his storms clouds 😭 and makes him "reveal himself"!!!!!!

So for the Spartan girls I have "sport talents" as:

Penelope: Swimming (duh), running, boxing (or ancient Greek Pankration!!! Look it up!!! it's neat!!!), She is VERY about swiftness and strategy. Hitting the "openings in armor" type of gal. Weakpoints.

Helen: Wrestling, Javelin, and Spear work all around. Girl is STRONG. She will FLATTEN you. Paris is LUCKY he had the power of god and anime on his side.

Clytemnestra: Chariot racing Horse girl, discus. She's very good with aim and direction...Foreshadowing with a certain axe OwO

And yes, all these girls constantly challenge each other. (Although probably gonna have Clytemnestra older. (my timeline was fixed with your idea, thehelplessmortals 😭))

Because Penelope is into boxing she has a bit of a crooked nose. While she's a naiad and can heal, her nose was one of the first BIG healing she did on herself. It's something she's a bit self-conscious about. (Odysseus broke Irus' fucking JAW in the Odyssey with one blow. I have it where these two were GOOD boxers.)

Because of that she's kind of built like a lightweight MMA Fighter. She's got broad shoulders basically no bust but... if you were to look at her you wouldn't think anything. She's quite short and "small" (the whole being born in a pond thing, one month early. goes with her duck myth) and while she's muscular it's one of those, "She has to flex to see it". (something she uses to her advantage) I like the thought of her being "sneaky" and "unassuming" in every possible way but then pulling the rug out from under you. >:D HOT GIRL SHIT.

With her being a Naiad she's quite pretty. She's like, an "average Naiad" though (she takes quite a bit after her dad). And ofc, she has the sharp teeth and pointed ears!

The thing is though, while in Sparta and other areas, Nymph/mortal marriages are common...Not so much on Ithaca. Nymphs are kind of reclusive there. So when she comes to Ithaca, she kind of intimidates others. :') And people don't know how to be around her for like, the first six months causing her to feel even lonelier than most who leave their homes to rule with their new spouse. (Menelaus has plenty of friends in Sparta for example) other than Odysseus, and her in-laws, who ofc dote on her and adore her. (Odysseus' parents were thankful he finally found someone he actually LIKES. even better that she's really cool.) Odysseus is trying SO hard to make her feel welcome by the whole kingdom though, introducing her to the Naiads there. (was a culture shift at first) but their subjects were...a bit SCARED of her. (also her being from another place.)

Rando: "My king…You know your wife…she uh… she eats raw fish. That she catches in her MOUTH" Odysseus: "And?? She's a better fisher than you ever were."

Rando: "Are you not afraid of your wife's sharp teeth?!" Odysseus: "Fear her grin?? I'm no fool or coward; it's my goal. Say shit like that again and I'll kill you"

That's like, the first 6 months though and their fears go away very quickly after as she does some things that help the island her "coming into her own" as queen :D

People start questioning things again when fertility becomes a possible issue :'( but OdyPen push through all their tough times 😤

[star-going-supernova]

Tumblr generated prompt number 5 was for a sequel to Plausible Deniability! Yep, I threw the sequel suggestions into the list for this round, and this wasn’t the only one that got chosen, hehe. There’s no real prompt for these, just me continuing a ficlet. Anyway, now y’all get to find out why I decided to make Gregory fifteen! 

This is a long one, at about 1,400 words. I’m not making it an ao3 one-shot, though. Also. I’m not going to lie. Jason Todd influenced how I wrote Gregory in this AU. Sooo… warnings for a teenager casually talking about murder and committing it (offscreen). 

(title’s a play on “Murder, She Wrote”)

Murder, He Chose

Look. There was no beating around the bush. Gregory had killed before. Like, actual real people. It was a conscious decision he made—twice, going on three times now. He’d only been fourteen the first time, when it was kill or be killed in that dead-end alleyway. Kill or be killed or let the lost little six-year-old be killed. Or worse.

It was kinda a no-brainer. 

Even before that, though, Gregory had developed a bit of a reputation. For violence, that is. He’d been on the streets since he was twelve, when he decided nothing could be worse than staying at home. In some ways, he’d been right. 

But the point was that Gregory had a territory, and he had his people, and even though he was a teenager, he protected both. And they trusted him to protect him. His chosen city blocks had the most young runaways and family units. They knew they’d be safe from the real monsters so long as him and his lead pipe were around.

Vanessa and her sneaky generosity were a huge help for the community, so to say he’d been pissed when he got word that two homeless kids had been killed one night? Understatement. And it happened the next two nights, even though his people got the message to stay away for the time being. 

He liked to consider Vanessa a friend, or at least an ally. Knowing she might have turned on them? It hurt. It wouldn’t stop him from stopping her, but he would’ve been sad about it. 

But it wasn’t her. The reports of a strong, energetic bunny-costumed murderer did not match up with the Vanessa he found in her bed, looking like death warmed over. 

Gregory went to the pizzaplex that next night with one goal: stop the killer. And yeah, considering he didn’t really trust the justice system, and especially not when the victims were a bunch of homeless people, that meant a permanent, “taking matters into his own hands” sort of stopping. 

• • •

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” Gregory called, dragging his lead pipe along the tiles. “I thought you wanted to play!” 

A STAFF bot swerved toward him, and he gave it a gentle tap to its fragile neck. Okay, less gentle tap, more hitting a home run. 

The commotion drew the attention of the nearest animatronic, Roxy. She prowled into the large hall, expression vacant—the sort of thing you’d expect from a robot, if Gregory hadn’t known better. 

Roxy circled him at a distance. One of her arms had a pretty significant dent in it. Looked like old dogs could learn new tricks. All the bots had been learning things tonight. None of them attacked him mindlessly anymore, not now that they knew better. 

“Think if I hit you hard enough, whatever’s wrong in your head will get shaken loose?” he mused. 

Her head twitched, but she didn’t respond to the taunt. He felt a little bad about the damage he’d caused to the animatronics, since it seemed to him that they were just someone else’s cannon fodder. 

He genuinely hoped they were able to repair Moon. Gregory had been swinging for the heavy-duty ones, not thinking to account for how stick-thin the DAs were. The same hits that only slowed the band down had snapped something in Moon. Something that meant he hadn’t gotten back up.

“Do you and your friends a favor, Roxy,” Gregory said. He kept walking, inexorable in his quest to find the big bad bunny, but that didn’t mean he let the big bad wolf out of sight. He was confident, not stupid. “Tell me where the killer is, and you won’t all be laid up in maintenance for a month.” 

She twitched again, and the glow of her eyes flickered. Roxy stopped skulking around him. Her voice box glitched. 

He was watching an internal battle take place, he realized. She was fighting whatever was making them accomplices to the bunny’s bloody crusade. 

There wasn’t much he could do to help, but he figured a little encouragement never hurt anyone. “C’mon, Roxy, you can do it,” Gregory said. “I know you can win this.” 

Her tail perked up the slightest bit, and it seemed to be the push she needed. “Head on over to the stage, kiddo! The show’s going to start soon!” 

It was similar to Chica’s falsely peppy lines about his parents looking for him, but maybe that scripted stuff was all she was able to slip past her programming. “Message received,” he muttered to himself with a slow grin. He took off in the direction of the enormous atrium. 

Roxy didn’t chase him. 

• • • 

The bunny definitely hadn’t been prepared for one of their victims to fight back. They were on the uppermost mezzanine, fiddling with something in the control booth. They drew a knife as soon as they noticed him, but the costume did nothing to hide the way their hand trembled faintly. 

“We doing this the easy way or the hard way?” Gregory asked, settling into a solid grip on his pipe. 

A hysterical, glitchy giggle burst out of the bunny. “You’re a lively one, yes. You’ll surely feed my master well.” 

They lunged at him before he could even try to find a good response for that. Gregory jabbed forward, forcing them to maintain distance, and then he started swinging wildly, never fully pulling back to wind up. He’d found that this crazy, unpredictable waving of his pipe made for a difficult attack to block or evade. These types of hits didn’t pack a punch the way a good over-the-shoulder swing did, but that didn’t mean they didn’t hurt at all. 

The bunny grunted every time it smacked into them, all the while forcing them back. That knife was looking pretty useless. Gregory snickered to himself. 

Either their impatience or their anger got the better of them because they suddenly tried to shove past his defenses. To their credit, it worked. Less to their credit, they seemed to have forgotten that a pipe was not Gregory’s only defense. 

He skittered backwards at an angle, leaned his weight on his back foot, and sent the outer edge of his other boot straight out into their left kneecap. They stumbled with a shriek, allowing Gregory to readjust his balance and do it again, harder. A sickly snap-crack sent the bunny collapsing. 

And what’d’ya know? Slumping over like that put the bunny’s head right at optimal swinging height. 

• • • 

Officially, the morning crew found clear signs of a break-in and phoned the police, who then found clear signs that someone had been luring homeless folks into the basement to butcher them. They also found the culprit, with a viciously shattered kneecap, bruised ribs, and fractured skull. But it was blood-loss that did them in. Stabbed three times by their own knife; the killer didn’t stand a chance.

Officially, the killer’s last attempted victim, presumably another member of the homeless community, fought back and escaped. There wasn’t enough evidence to find the individual, not with the virus the killer introduced into the pizzaplex, messing with the cameras and animatronics. No one spoke up or came forward; none of the local hospitals or clinics received a patient that night with the speculated injuries of a murder attempt.

Officially, the night guard was quickly declared innocent on account of being off work with the flu. Her apartment building’s security cameras confirmed she hadn’t left on any of the three nights, or at all for that full week. She shrugged over why homeless people might have been in the pizzaplex to begin with, suggesting that they’d realized the night guard wasn’t there and had taken advantage. Good thing she was back on the job.

Unofficially, Gregory didn’t lose any sleep over his actions that night. Vanessa never mentioned his visit to her apartment, and he wasn’t sure if that was because she was holding on to her plausible deniability or because she genuinely didn’t remember it. 

Unofficially, the next time Gregory stopped by the pizzaplex, the animatronics all thanked him, either in words or with food or warm clothes. Even Moon, who hadn’t been damaged beyond repair, thank goodness, and who held no hard feelings. 

Unofficially, Gregory’s kill count was up to three. And he didn’t regret a single one. 

[asherlockstudy]

So what are your thoughts on all the backpedaling RandL but mostly Link has done over the last couple of months? It felt like for a while there both of them were making so many sneaky allusions to being queer in someway, but recently (I’d say post-Sextember) it seems like they’ve kind of retracted/avoided some of that. It really felt like Link was on the brink of something before the whole butch/twink situation freaked him out.

I don’t think there’s been a lot of backpedaling per se, given that the last scripted video of the year was also one of the boldest.

The references in their other works have been indeed kind of toned down however, which might not have to do exactly with the process they have undertaken but rather with their current psychological state.

The whole butch / twink situation hit at an odd time when Link had cut on his antidepressant pills and perhaps it hit him twice as hard. Link has been called many things throughout the years (Velma, gay, fruity, Rachel Maddow, the Boy from the Businessman and the Boy scenario etc) and he has always been gracious about it, even though most of these bear some implications about his sexuality. The fact that the butch / twink was what eventually made him lose his cool could have been due to the combination of the following reasons:

He was in a phase of going cold-turkey with his prescription pills, while also supporting Christy through a hard time for her family.

It doesn’t matter that the commentator is open and accepting regarding sexualities, their phrasing about Link was demeaning. “I thought I was seeing a beautiful butch lesbian but it turns out it’s that twink from Good Mythical Morning”. They were clearly making jokes about an unnamed Link’s appearance, commenting on how he looks both like a lesbian and a twink at the same time.

It unfortunately happened based on a photo Link was very proud of. It was taken and thus approved by Rhett, it was published and thus approved by Christy and it was meaningful to him because his tattoo is dedicated to Christy and his family. So to have the comment be about butch and twink, it felt like a trivialisation of this moment for him. Don’t forget that he was also hurt in GME when some ass also said his tattoo was badly made (which is a plain untrue statement btw). This tattoo means a lot to him and he is proud of it and yet it has been the cause of some jabs or jokes at his expense.

Link might not be straight and might indeed plan to come out of the closet one day but we should remember he is a man of a different generation ; the excessive, superficial, almost compulsive use of labels that is trending nowadays might not express him correctly and he might not want it for himself. Even if he is gay or attracted to men anyway, it does not mean he views himself as a twink necessarily - I mean, he is not a twink- he is a mature middle aged man with what seems like clear preference towards establishing very committed relationships founded on very strong bonds, and being “that twink from a show” might not be what ultimately he wants to be linked to once he is out. The ease with which such descriptions are effortlessly used by others does not align to the potential inner hardship, torment and struggles he went through for decades to eventually be who he is, as he himself says. (Still, if you noticed, he reacted more poorly to being called a butch lesbian than a twink.)

I expect them to cut on the references a bit because the unresponsiveness of the audience stopped them right in their tracks. The scripted videos will come back in the likes of a series well into the year and me thinks close to summer, when - coincidentally??? - they have scheduled the live shows. Until then, perhaps there won’t be as many hints or they will once again increase gradually.

[max1461]

I'm watching all these MMA training videos on youtube, with this coach who's giving commentary, and he talks a lot about etiquette and ego. Like, when you're sparring you're supposed to hit your opponent lightly because you're both just practicing your technique and so on, you're not supposed to hit them hard. But I guess a frequent-ish problem is things escalating, this coach keeps talking saying things like "see this guy's really great, he doesn't let his ego get in the way, the other guy got a sneaky hit off there and this guy was friendly about it", and he keeps talking in knowing terms about mild escalations. Like he'll say "her opponent did X, so her next hit was a little harder, just showing him not to do that" and so on, where X is something (evidently) annoying.

So it's like, an important aspect of etiquette is not hitting too hard during sparring, but also it's expected that there will be these little minor breaks somewhat frequently. And I kind of wonder... is this kind of behavior a personality trait that's being selected for among MMA enthusiasts, or is it inherent to the activity. Like, usually I'm an absolutely non-competitive person, I just don't care about winning at things. And I don't have this like, strong urge to punish slights against me, right, like in life if someone annoys me my default response is to ignore them, I don't have an impulse to "return fire". So would I do better, if it were me? Or is there something inherent to being hit a bunch, even lightly, that brings out the aggression in you? I suspect there might be. I suspect even I might, you know, bop a guy a little hard if he got me with a particularly sneaky move, it might just be part of human nature.

I don't really know but it's interesting to contemplate.

[haysprite]

can we hear some of your headcanons about frank :)

OMG YES !!! I feel like my interpretation of him is like really different than other people's, but its finnnneee :o) Also there's a lot so brace yourself 👍 I also wanted to focus more on just him this time around since I've already done a HC dump about him and Julie !

• AuDHD also go brrr (I’ll be real I’ve hit all four of em with this lmfao)

• Has a really high pain tolerance! He could break a bone or somethin and literally try to walk it off despite the other’s protests. 

• ON THE OTHER HAND THO, he is PATHETIC when it comes to getting sick (which isn’t often, but that means it hits him HARD when he does). Talk about man colds fr 🙏 The other three tend to make fun of him for this, but Julie still takes care of him cause she finds it a bit funny and wants to help her silly bf out.

• Absolutely loves being the center of attention, so he defo tries to impress anyone around him

• He really did enjoy playing basketball and being on Fairview’s team! He didn’t really get along with most of his team, but he was pretty good at the sport and being on the court was sometimes freeing for him. Was also a p good excuse to stay away from home.

• Dropped out of school early into his senior year, punching that referee was simply his final straw

• During the car ride to Ormond, he defo tried to run away while Clive was stopped to get some gas, but got caught pretty quickly. Frank may be strong, but Clive was stronger, and managed to force him back into the car. The rest of the ride was pretty silent after this

• Absolutely loves hoodies and jackets, and is rarely seen without one (whether he’s wearing it or just has it on hand). They’re just comfy, what can I say

• Loves the thrill of fights, which he gets into a bit more often than he probably should. Also tends to be the one to throw the first punch.

• He is NOT a morning person whatsoever. It takes him forever to finally drag his ass out of bed. He’s more of a night person, both for the peacefulness and because there’s more potential to cause some mayhem without getting caught.

• Though he’s the leader of the Legion, most of the plans and ideas come from Julie and Joey, since they actually like to think plans through unlike Frank, who will jump straight into something without giving it a second thought. He’s got zero impulse control lets be fr

• Hates the quiet, he either has to have music playing or be talking to somebody or else he just feels uncomfortable

• Has quite a few tattoos, though the only one ever really visible is the one on his neck. Got his first tattoo at 15 and loved the rush he got from getting one. I feel like he got his neck tattoo right before being dragged to Ormond at (roughly) 17. He had to be sneaky about getting them, ofc, but he’s always been pretty good at faking IDs and lying about his age (hence why he’s able to get his hands on alcohol n shit p easily).

• He’s a bit of a flirt, having a pretty charming nature to him, which he defo uses to his advantage when he needs to get out of sticky situations

• Not trusted behind the steering wheel, so Julie or Joey are always the ones to drive everyone places, which he’s a bit annoyed by, but he got over it eventually

• Has a lil collection of random trinkets he’s saved throughout his life, like things he’s stolen from every foster home he’s been through, random shit he’s found on the ground, gifts given to him by his friends, etc

• Whenever he was relocated, he would ALWAYS research as much as he possibly could about where he was being sentenced to. He found the history behind certain places really interesting, especially if there were any murders or creepy shit involved, and it also helped him plan out ways to get out of there as quickly as possible.

• Absolutely hates Clive with the PASSION. He did nothing but ignore Frank, no matter how hard he tried to get his attention. Frank picked a lot of verbal fights with him, some of them almost escalating into something physical, but Clive wasn’t afraid to fight back and stopped each fight pretty quickly.

• Got kicked out about half a year after turning 18, but he didn’t really care since he basically lived at the lodge anyway. Just meant he was finally free from living with Clive permanently

• He has a funny older brother / younger sister relationship with Susie. They’ll do shit like yelling at each other from across the lodge about what kind of pizza they should get, or walking into the room the other is in only to stand there silently before turning off the lights and BOOKING it. They annoy each other a lot, but they do it out of love (platonic obv) lmfao

• He and Joey do stupid shit like wrestling, arm wrestling, or straight up fights to see who’s stronger. Despite Frank being the one to initiate most of these, Joey wins a good 90% of the time unless he’s really caught off guard.

• Would do literally anything for Julie <3 He is so pathetically in love with her. I feel like Susie bugged him a lot about this before he and Julie started dating, calling him out whenever she caught him staring at Julie for too long or just teasing him about it

• Is REALLY bad at comforting his friends when they’re feelin down, but he tries his best 👍 It’s either him threatening to kick the ass of whoever made them upset, or just being silent and letting them vent cause he doesn’t really know how to respond

• Got super excited when he found out Julie also loved slasher films and learning about serial killers, and was really happy about finally having someone to talk about this shit with. They have movie nights a lot where they watch stupid slasher films for sure !

• It takes a lot to calm him down when he’s angry. Though his friends are sometimes able to help, most of the time they have to leave him be and let him punch or break some shit to release his anger.

• He always feels really bad whenever he blows up at one of his friends, he just struggles with actually apologizing about it. Julie is helping him a lot with this, and even though progress is slow, he’s slowly learning and getting better at it

[maranull]

*takes the sneaky route through the chimney but gets stuck halfway down*

H-hello? Mara? I came here hoping to give you asks but I've ended up in a bit of pickle!

Could I have some headcanons about Malenia n Miq meeting Millicent and her sisters for the first time? (They're not trying to kill eachother, thankfully)

BIMBOOM!!! GOOF, THE DOOR IS ALWAYS OPEN!

On my way to get you out of there, hide your head.

(i couldn't find a gif destroying a chimney 👍)

So! I (as of yesterday :P) generally headcanon Malenia's daughters to be born in the Haligtree, but if I went with that they'd all be babies.

So I'm gonna actually follow the lore and say that they traveled to the Haligtree as adults. They traveled separately tho.

Also don't think about the timeline too hard. Yes, they were born from the Aeonia Bloom, and yes, Miquella is still at the Haligtree and Malenia is sane. DON'T QUESTION THE TIMELINE.

:P

Haligtree Family 1st meeting!

~

Mary

Being the first to arrive, she's quite the shock to Miquella and an even bigger to Malenia

Malenia was actually very dismissive (scared) of Mary's claims, and refused to see her for a long time

Miq was much more interest and attentive

He was immensely curious about how Mary was... spawned, for lack of better word

The majority of their first meeting was spent in gentle but intense questioning

Amy

By the time Amy reached the Haligtree, Malenia had slowly began to talk with Mary and be more open to the weirdness of the situation

Both Empyrians welcomed Amy this time, Malenia struggling to be open about this

Amy's tales of her finding her old teacher softened Malenia quite a bit, and they talked a lot about them

Before Miquella could talk much, if at all, both mother and daughter were testing each others sparring skills in the yard

Miq had his talk with Amy much, much later

Maureen

Maureen didn't much like either the Rot or the Haligtree, and she made sure to sour her face appropriately when meeting her mother and uncle

Miq and her almost hit it off, what with his reserved and guarded respect for some aspects of Leyndell, and her own strong faith in the Capital and the Order

Miq was glad of news from his parent

And in return Maureen eyes lit with wonder when he mentioned and performed the Rings of Light incantation

Malenia was courteous with her, but mostly remained silent

Pollyanna

Pollyanna actually arrived with Melina so that reunion was a slightly more crowded

Being alone with the three quiet women around, Miq did most of the talking at first

Up to the point he asked about Pollyanna's travels, which prompted her into unleashing a flood of stories and information she had acquired during her journey, barely containing her excitement at the wonders she saw

That stole a smile from Malenia, who then proceeded to ask more and more questions about her journey

That meeting lasted deep into the night, Pollyanna and Malenia doing most of the talking

Millicent

She arrived pretty hurt, and was actually found by Pollyanna at the southern borders of the Haligtree, collapsed

Most of her first days she spent with Miq nurturing her back to health

Despite being the youngest, the Rot was the most aggressive in her, and Miq ended up having to give her an old needle he had made for Malenia

Malenia talked to her briefly while she was still bedridden

Miq noticed their similarities between their characters were much more prominent than the other girls

~

Do not think about the timeline. Time is convoluted in the world (also ignore that that line is from DSIII).

ANYWAY!

Thank you Bim! Looking into the sisters was the most fun I've had lorediving since I fell in love with Meli. Thank youuuu!!!

<3

[mistfallengw2]

for the gw2 profession ask thing:

3: Have they dabbled in any other professions than the one they ended up with?

4: On the scale of absolute novice to complete expert, how good are they at their chosen profession?

GW2 Profession Ask Questions or something IDK

Since no character was listed, I'm gonna go rapid fire on all the list! :D

Aurelia Dragonwings 3. She used to be a warrior, quite strong physically but with no access to magic. Those skills are still relevant. 4. She's pretty good at being a revenant and she's a strong one too, though with some "disabilities" caused by her encounter with [redacted]. Other than the initial memory loss, her main issue is that she can't create traversable rifts to the Mists (surface-level rifts are fine, like the ones used in combat).

Adamas Crystalsoul 3. His mother Ardea taught him some elemental magic, but he clearly had more talent for tinkering so he never really developed it further. He still knows a few elementalist tricks and is more comfortable than most (maybe a little reckless) with working on high-temperature equipment, ended up being useful with his holoforge. 4. Expert engineer in many fields. He's extremely quick to learn new things, if he's interested enough, and he's particularly good with alchemy, gadgetry, firearms and small constructs.

Tocchix 3. His first mentor was Alyt, who is a thief/elementalist, and she did try to teach him some elemental magic, mostly to no avail as he was more interested in hand-to-hand combat and shadow magic. 4. Extremely skilled daredevil, though he's only able to use shadow magic to enhance his physical abilities. Sneaky, fast and hits like a truck, though a bit too reckless at times.

Maeveryl 3. No. 4. Used to be a talented warrior, though mostly uninterested in combat. Since becoming a berserker in an uncommon way, they had to really hone in on their skills due to safety reasons, so one could say they're expert.

Hel Ravenlost 3. No. 4. Definitely an expert necromancer. She was talented from a young age, too much in her mother's opinion, and left her duty to chase more knowledge, becoming an Archon in the Priory. Particularly good at controlling necrominions, she could have very easily become a lich if she hadn't been stopped in her wild chase for a way to bring back a friend, but for now her most impressive feat is single-handedly taking over and "taming" a risen chicken while Zhaitan was still alive.

Ellara Echodancer 3. No, other than what she tried in mandatory basic training in the fahrar. 4. Quite a good mesmer overall, though she knows she's far from the expert label. Mostly self-taught in chronomancy and use of psychic blades.

Bunnie 3. Elemental magic would have been really cool to learn (Alyt left an impression on her), but alas she has no magical abilities to write home about. 4. Expert engineer, specifically in golemancy. Some may counter her claim of being "the best golemancer in the world (after Snaff)", but she did become Snaff Savant AND her results are hard to dismiss.

Ethanryel 3. No. 4. They're a pretty okay elementalist, with a talent for weaving elements.

Deryn 3. Sort of. She's an Olmakhan and was officially a Dawnwalker. 4. Self-taught dragonhunter/firebrand through trial and error, she's far from an expert but makes do in her own efficient way.

Markus Blake 3. Not really, other than some general training with the Seraph. 4. Decent ranger. Has a good aim, is good at tracking and easily gets along with animals, but his magical talents are underdeveloped.

Iotta 3. She is a necromancer/thief. 4. Extremely competent in both professions, always had a talent for hand-to-hand combat and necromancy. She hated not being able to take full advantage of her death shroud, so she overcompensated with perfecting everything else.

Poffi 3. She has some engineering background due to her family's job (they used to be part of the same golem maintenance krewe), but she never wanted to go in that field, instead aiming to become a lab technician before discovering her talent as a sniper. 4. She was a sniper (deadeye) with near-perfect aim, though she was too insecure to be more effective than shooting from a distance. She died too young to be defined as an expert and needed to become more well-rounded, but she was in line to earn the title of Slayer in the Order of Whispers.

Daunte Burstspell 3. Nah, other than basic fahrar training. 4. He was a pretty powerful elementalist, having plenty of strong Flame shamans in his bloodline. Not exactly an expert and he lagged behind in the other elements, but he did focus on becoming better with water magic.

Hagan Wesson 3. Not really. 4. More of an expert hunter than an expert thief. Possibly due to Zar'gol, but he started developing specter powers after S4, though he's far from an expert.

Flom 3. No, he felt like he genuinely sucked whenever he tried anything and gave up. 4. NOPE. His "revenant" powers are limited to the equivalent of Mallyx's, and when Flom is forced to use them that's actually Zar'gol taking control.

Zehmik 3. Has some knowledge of thief tricks from his time in pirate crews. 4. Maybe not an expert, but definitely competent. After nearly two decades spent in the Mists War, he became a Legendary Defender and refined his spellbreaker powers to suitable levels of reliance and strength.

Nari 3. Not exactly a profession, but she went through Kestrel training. 4. She's a pretty good bladesworn and made her own sword, but is a better scout than a fighter, and the lack of experience puts her at a disadvantage.

Edraas Noiza 3. No. [Mechanically Edraas is a willbender, but it fights in an unique manner] 4. Nope. It fights as its draconic-hybrid nature allows, and it gets tired real fast.

Lenorey 3. Technically has some thief skills. 4. Look, weird stuff goes in, strong necromantic energy comes out. Don't ask her to be more specific than that.

Haidee 3. Does some generic spy training count? 4. Not sure if she can be called an expert, but she did earn the title "the Mirage" thanks to her skills with illusions. When she learned of the existence of the mirage profession, she dragged her girlfriend to Elona to go perfect her skills.

Okami Whitewings 3. Not really, other than basic fahrar training. 4. They'll say they're only good with animals, but hey, they survived this long doing a variety of dangerous things.

[the-blazing-light]

How about, rank characters from dexterity to strength as in what they use for combat maybe note a specific trait of dexterity/strength for some characters

I ain't gonna do all characters cuz that's dfhjgjh a lot of 'em to get down to but I'll throw in some that I think deserve a shoutout in that sense but dfjghjh that's gonna be a long one anyway

To no one's surprise, Arengar is extremely physically strong, and being Blood Legion born and raised, yeah he prefers to approach fights with brute force of muscle and magic rather than in any dexterous or stealthy way, and being a heavy-armored, 8 feet tall charr makes trying to be agile or sneaky hard to begin with, him preferring to block hits with aegis and other guardian spells or just straight-up take 'em as opposed to dodging them. All that to say, not that he can't fight with strategy and intelligence put into it, but he certainly prefers just a plain, head-on approach 90% of the time, as for a charr of his particular skillset the alternatives are usually a waste of time

Kaia is yet another meat wall of a charr. She's extremely strong and durable, as expected of a warrior, and is even more hard-headed and straightforward than Arengar is. Being a warrior, she can't really protect her friends with any sorta spells, instead using her own body as a shield, able to take the punishment and give it back to the enemy twice as hard. Additionally, she's a spellbreaker, with her approach to it involving literally throwing whatever magic her enemies tossed at her right back in their face, so a lot of the time getting hit is her battle tactic. Get hit, shrug it off, toss it back and pummel your opponent with a hammer until it's done.

Alistair on the other hand really isn't physically strong nor durable. He's an agile, quick mesmer, who can't really take hits but if he plays his cards right, he doesn't in the first place. Confusing his enemies, teleporting around constantly, staying away from the opponent and cloaking himself with mesmer magic is core of his fighting style, with the way he fights it's almost a dance: graceful, fast and quite deadly.

Now Arren's a perfect combination of the two. He's very short, but stocky, quick and unexpectedly strong. His hits pack a punch but also being a thief he's extremely hard to catch and pin down, which he uses to his advantage.

Now Aela is on the other side where she's surprisingly agile. She's a heavy-armored soldier, and yet she's extremely lean and fast, dashing and teleporting around, delivering quick, deadly strikes, cutting down the enemy before they can even strike back. Her and Arren actually share a very similar fighting style, being trained together in Ash Legion, but both adapted it to suit better their professions, thief and guardian respectively.

Lani's just another massive, bulky brick wall that swings around a hammer that's twice as big as some humans. Not much to say here, he's not known for being good at strategy or... Some would say thinking in general, but he sure can handle himself in a fight, be it an all-out war effort or just another bar brawl.

Zemzus is interesting, because he's your typical run of the mill scholar with athleticism of a wet noodle, but he's also an extremely powerful reaper necromancer. While he's not powerful physically per say, he more than makes up for it with his magic, which allows him to just rely on sheer brute force of it.

[rametarin]

Just a childhood tale.

I think I understand the sort of person Putin is, because the way he’s described and the way he appears to act, from my perspective, reminds me of a story from my childhood. I met a person like him- or rather, I was the playdate/babysat kid that was brought over to be watched by a sitter and keep their son company. Someone whose personality reminds me quite a bit with the sorts of minds that think like Putin’s type.

The problem was we were both, I want to say, between 4 and 5, and he was an absolute psychopath in the truest sense of the word for his age. And it was my first real brush with somebody whose mental faculties weren’t properly formed, not because of immaturity, but because there was something wrong. And when I say they weren’t formed properly, I mean this kid struck his peers, us, as ‘off.’ Broken. Malformed like a club foot in his brain and soul. Not like other kids our age. Not just offbeat, but there was something wrong with him. Above and beyond how shitty, violent and unrepentant some little boys can act to other boys, themselves and girls around them.

Upon first meeting him, this little bastard reached out, grabbed my hand and pulled my index finger hard enough to bruise it and hurt my joints. Remember: We were single digits old. He was deliberately grinning and reaching out, knowing a normal person is not expecting to be physically hurt, grabbing my extremities, and yanking. With full intention to hurt, and cause damage. And then giggle, playing it off like a joke. You know, “just horsing around.” And he thought that kind of pain and discomfort was nothing more harmful than a prank. He took to doing that a lot. Just unannounced reaching out, grabbing a finger quickly and YANKING until your finger and joints bruised and it hurt to use them. It was a petty violence he was only ever lightly punished for.

When you’re a child that age, restraint is as natural as breathing, and violence is generally limited to light slaps or taps that result in crying. To where the consensus was across my male peers, if you were capable of hitting someone at full strength hard enough to hurt them, it proved you were strong. Clearly, you had to be, right? Because it’s virtually instinctive to not want to get in trouble for putting so much effort into wagging around your stubby little limbs that you actually bruise more than an oversensitive other young person’s nerves and their ego. To our young minds, it was easy to misunderstand “has no restraint and actively wants to hurt you” with “being as passively, effortlessly strong as as an adult.” Understanding a malicious lack of care that isn’t natural that results in overdoing it to hurt someone else is foreign. Clearly if you were capable of really hurting someone, it was because despite your instinctive restraint, you were still enormously strong. We didn’t really understand how our own feelings were giving us bias to how that worked. It was natural. He didn’t get the memo, apparently.

And as kids, we’d dealt with people that were liars and those that’d deny things to avoid getting into trouble before, but we’d never, ever come upon someone that butchered or tortured language the way this asshole child our age did when they wanted to communicate and dominate our interactions. Disguising malicious violence as “sneaky kiddish pranks.” Like sneaking up behind you and then punching you in the back of the head, or shoving you forwards so you fall over. And I don’t mean, ‘nudge and run away,’ like other kids. I mean, this little asshole fully attempted to make other kids fall face first into dirt, then play it off like, “LOL I’M JUST RAMBUNCTIOUS AND A YOUNG BOY. :^) I JUST PLAY ROUGH.”

When.. no. WE were young boys, and this guy was making US look bad. It became the consensus. But he spoke with insistent authority and absolutist determination, in a social culture where conversation was meant to be consensus, and through language, insisted his narrative was true. No one contradicted him, so he just kept speaking to reaffirm and narrate for everybody. Then reference things HE alone had determined to be true, as “stuff we all agreed on.”

It was a hard lesson, and the only teacher was negative experience. The hardest lessons of all were just how many techniques he used at once to disrupt and antagonize to distract from learning those lessons about just how malicious he was, just how sure he thought himself about his capacity to deceive and manipulate and exploit, just how much he drew satisfaction from and rewarding himself for his “victories” over us.

Even when he tried to pretend to interface with us properly, he’d phrase things so.. deceptively. A normal child knows the boilerplate, after they go too far and hurt another kid and there’s the risk that parents will be called over. They reflexively know to go, “I’m sorry. You okay?” At least FEIGN giving a shit.

This little bastard had another method. He’d put on a friendly, but cheeky “Teehee pesky ain’t I? :^)” face, and use the phrase, “Lets start over!”

“Lets start over” didn’t mean, “I’m sorry.” It meant, “Lets both agree that this never happened, you forgive me and that we’ll both forgive and forget it.” At least, that was what he insisted that meant. For other people. And it was a phrase he’d come back to whenever he wanted other people to forgive him and agree to not hold it against him later, then scream aloud, “YOU SAID YOU FORGAVE ME FOR THAT! LIAR!”

And it was, in a way, true. Because at that age, ‘Oops I’m sorry, forgive me?’ ‘Okay’ is just, y’know. How rambunctious little bastards operate. But THIS motherfucker... he used social interaction as a weapon. As a headfuck. There was never any real honest, good faith apologies. Just diplomatic language. It was cold blooded and malicious all the way up and all the way down, and it was hard to see at first, because as a child, you just don’t expect this sort of cold bloodedness to exist. It doesn’t make sense.

You don’t even understand such a personality can exist in a vacuum. You think it’s learned behavior, or acting out of spite. But no.. This was what this fucking asshole child was like, in the absence of any abusive older siblings, or parents. He wasn’t coached to act like this, far as I know, this was just how his mind operated. So trial and error of dealing with this person, gauging their sincerity, seeing them in social situations of when the mask slips and they reveal the real them. Letting them have an opportunity to steal from you, or just get one over on you, and then they do it and pretend nothing is out of sorts.

Every so often when playing outside he’d just get this mean “I’m going to dominate you” streak where he’d try and grab you by the neck and throw you in a mud puddle by just being somewhere and pretending to play with you, so it’d look like an accident. A justifiable accident. Or “a joke that got out of control.” And he’d get visibly upset when people stopped trusting him enough to allow them behind him. When you’re ignorant and naive, you lower your guard. You let people behind you, where they can shove you, punch you, put their leg beside yours so you can’t compensate when balance is lost and then shove you sideways so you fall to the ground. Then brag about how they’re so much stronger and superior to you that they made you cry.

But with this fucking asshole, it never stopped. And that is so counterintuitive, when you’re that age. You don’t expect to roll up on somebody that is just bonafide soulless and maliciously premeditating that sort of shit. Rambunctious and ‘no ability to plan through the next act’ ADHD types that hurt people or things spin out of control because they get excited and stupid? Yeah sure, those exist. They often feel bad after they let their joy dictate their actions.

This little bastard was in full control of his emotions and chose to plan to be an asshole. Just for the most petty of “victories” over you.

He couldn’t, however, stand the reverse. When he did pranks and hurt people and asserted dominance and insisted he was stronger than you, therefore “you better watch out,” that was always justified and fine. If you did the same to him, he’d shreik in existential terror and yell for you to stop, in a pleading voice. Then giggle and grin at you, as if he’d just.. tricked you. By appealing to your emergency brake that is your feelings. Not because he was scared the way a child usually was of being brutalized or abused, but because of indignity that it was him on the abused side. This took a while to really understand the difference in how he thought. And even entertaining such an inhuman psychology seemed.. inhuman.

He was a predator, and would come to conclusions like him kicking you over meant he was stronger than you, remind you because of his aggressiveness that you should back off before you get hurt, remind you of “last times he beat you up.” Just in this weird psyche game. Try and get your peers on his side, just typical bully behavior. But if you did the same to him, he’d put on a show of acting like you were just doing it out of spite, or trying to impress people, and he’d tell his parents on you. Right down to trying to frame you for shit and if a parent or sitter demanded to know who did [X], pointing a finger at you.

I do not believe that someone too young to even read was being tutored in how to be a bastard like this by their parents. He was too young for that. This was all natural psychosis.

Well, eventually I just hardened my heart to this little bastard entirely. No more being quiet and letting them verbally dictate our actions aloud as if he was just reading what was true in the world, but contradicting his interpretations and correcting them with how I was going to remember it. Boldly. Then it went from consensus to argument. There’s power in this. Especially when someone is trying to wage war on you, personally, and insist your silence meant you signed on to that interpretation of events. I’d correct the record of past interractions, he’d premeditate arguments and disruptions to gaslight and distract.

Eventually I learned to anticipate that, too. As he’d bark out reimaginings of how things went, I’d correct his record to let him know, I was not fooled nor was I even offering him the ghost of a chance of accepting his generous interpretation as fact. And the part that upset him most, was he wasn’t being given the benefit of the doubt when things were muddy and unclear.  The way you’re “supposed” to, and he was exploiting to be a little shit.

He was quiet about it at first, but he depended on this seeming magical amnesia of “forgiveness,” which he used as a weapon. He depended on social resets to keep being a little shit, that comes up and pushes you, or punches you, or kicks you, or just grabbing you and throwing you to the ground. When you expect him to do that and not only don’t go down because you know he’s coming, but in fact reverse it, he screams first bloody murder for the unpleasantness of himself being grabbed hold of and moved around, negating his agency, but also in frustration; HE is supposed to hurt YOU, not the other way around! Clearly you have malevolence in your heart for not being a victim! Making YOU guilty of hate and meanness.

The first defense I employed was simply defending myself from “teehee” punches and kicks. Hoping he’d get the message that not only was I aware he was doing it on purpose, but that they were attacks, and I was not going to consider this a game, no matter how much he tried to use that “Teehee we’re playing :^)” smile to shape other peoples responses. My own face said, “No, we’re not playing, you’re being a spoiled little asshole, and I’m getting mad.” No matter how much he tried to insist he was going to ignore that and just stick to the story his violence was “a joke.”

But doing this enough and him not sneaking a hit passed me, even when he employed other people to distract me with conversation specifically to do so, frustrated him. Eventually his ego broke down and he came out with it, upset I “didn’t trust him.”

Imagine a pick pocket being hurt that you think they’re a thief because you keep covering your pocket the second they try to stick their fingers in to steal. They know what they were doing, you know what they were doing. But they’re hurt that you can’t be convinced otherwise and you’d DARE acknowledge the truth of their motivations and the outcomes of being a pickpocket. That’s the sort of mentality you’re dealing with. Someone that dares to be angry with you for putting 2+2 together that they’re actively, knowledgaby and maliciously plotting against you, like you’re not supposed to know and it’s a failure of your morals to acknowledge it. To know it.

It’s practically unfathomable at that age. It’s heartbreaking to reconcile that. But eventually, you have to just come to terms with it. Some people entered this world broken. Some people don’t act nice because they feel bad for acting terrible to other people; they paint in between the lines only because it helps them get what they want, or avoid the indignity of loss of agency at the will of other people.

And that’s just it. He came from a natural psychological philosophy where his will was what mattered, and he only bent the knee slightly to people that had the physical or social authority not just to rebuff his physical force, but his social authority. Beyond boilerplate, lipservice logic intended to sound nice, this motherfucker probably would’ve smacked the soft spots of infants if they had the social carte blanche to get away with it without consequence or scorn. No natural inhibitor, no natural concern for other people- the opposite, in fact.

Well. One time, we were being babysat, and he was being a dismissive, disparaging, sarcastic dick. As he always did as a late 80s/early 90s kid when he wanted to assert dominance as the ‘cool guy’. Unlike usual, we were alone. His parents were doing something outside, so it was one of those rare times as kids we were trusted to behave ourselves with limited supervision. Which, you know, is kind of a teaching milestone; trusting kids to sit in a room and behave themselves without sneaking into sweets to choke on them or get into peoples shit without asking.

Well, he starts to exhibit the pattern of behavior that suggests maybe he’s going to start getting more violent. When you’re a bit more loving, you don’t try to be confrontational about this. You diplomatically try and get them to stop. When you’re tired of their shit, you get standoffish yourself.

He threw an elbow. I deflected it before he could even really wind it up. He looked at me spooked, like there was no possible way I could’ve known he was about to do that, or been psychologically prepared to even respond or defend myself. Then I proceeded to kick his legs out from under him, which further shook him up and threw off his game. And KICK HIM IN THE FACE. Reminder: We were kids. It’s not like my fat little foot was made of lead. There wasn’t enough momentum or mass to really matter. It’s the sound of the impact, the slight smack and the knowledge someone just attacked you in violent blood that hits harder for a child.

He breathed in to start to scream. I piped up, “We’re starting over!!” Which shocked him enough he didn’t scream. I performed concern for my well being if he told his parents I’d, “started a fight.” or, “we were fighting.” He took that as an opportunity to get one over on me and sweep this under the rug to lower my guard, again. As he always did. There was no moving on, there was only letting the dust settle and pretending mended fences didn’t hide bad blood.

But I’d long since understood this was how he thought. So we went back to the NES for a bit.

Before I drew off and backhanded him across the face, after he transmitted he was positioning his arm to do the same. And I didn’t pull that punch, either. I wanted him to hurt.

“♪WE’RE STARTING OVER! ♫” I can remember yelling at him in a mocking singsong while he yelled at me to stop. In that tone that muddled between pleading for mercy but also in his mind, trying to assert dominance and demand by appealing to someone’s restraint and compassion. That earned him a punch to the forehead against the carpeted floor.

Little bastard tried to kick me, grabbed his skinny ankle on the wind back while he was flailing, grabbed his hand and swung him face first into a wall, just yelling, “♫ WE’RE STARTING.. OVER! ♪” while he clunked face first into the paint.

It wasn’t about causing real damage. It was about the discomfort, the indignity, the experience of not being strong enough to stop the will of someone else deciding to exert THEIRS upon YOU, and them choosing not to restrain themselves our of compassion for you, leaving you at the mercy of their wrath. It was about demonstrating that for all their petty tricks, their tendency to treat people as NPCs in a game to hack and manipulate and exploit for their own desires and sensation of tyrannical superiority, you don’t give a damn what they say to explain themselves anymore, because you know it’s all just poison and lies. It was about dictating TO THEM when the abuse stops, NOT letting THEM dictate when and how they get hit by lying to you.

Oh I gave that little bastard the first real beatdown of his life and I spared no expense. He’d counter-attack, I’d slap it away and then grab him by the neck and throw him to the ground and just kick his thigh. He’d scream in indignity and pretend to cry, I’d kick him in the mouth as a physical way to say, ‘shut up, you lying little bitch’, he’d realize I wasn’t buying it and then go back to trying to hulk out like the little psycho thought he was so superior he could just overpower another person with unrestrained effort, just to get smacked around and overpowered.

And nothing upsets a psycho like them being so convinced in their minds that they are your superior by rule of force, and you pushing them around, in contradiction to their own self image. I wasn’t just picking up a peer and throwing them around, I was beating the bolts and welds off his own ramshackle identity and soul.

The only time I stopped was when I chose to stop to get some wind back. And just as he’d performed and done before, I performed having “the talk” after a fight. “Okay. We’re starting over now. You good?”

Right before I went back to violating this bogusly worded “treatise” and beating his ass to MY will and contentment. Boy he hated that, but there was nothing he could do about it, and I didn’t feel like stopping. So, he got minutes of abuse that he could do fuckall about.

I did this false treatise shit multiple times and did not let up. I actively wanted him to act like he was just tolerating my abuse and “not trying to fight back,” until goaded into actually putting real effort in that he knew was supposed to be his, “I’m done playing around” schtick, only to beat his ass some more like he were a speedbump and barely notice.

He was an exhausted emotional wreck long before I stopped whooping his ass. And I just sat on his back and pushed his face down into the carpet for minutes before I offered him that final peace. Which was my genuine offer, an apology, and making plain I didn’t want him to act like this anymore. Else I really would just beat him bloody until I was satisfied. Because I had just had enough. I thought maybe if I bashed their ego hard enough they’d get a bit gunshy and understand equilibrium. I’d MAKE them understand respect for other people by giving them a memory of what happens when you don’t.

So we shook on it, tears were wiped away, tired breath came back.I was willing to let bygones be bygones, so to speak. Now that a new normal had been created, he was not going to forget what challenging me meant, and he was not strong enough to do what his heart said was his right to do. It was going to lead to embarrassment, failure and pain, and me rubbing it in his face, and his face into the floor. That would now factor into the calculus of how he interacted with me going forwards, because clearly, indivisible humanity and mutual respect would not be enough. He’d behave, out of sheer self-preservation.

And then I caught a sneak-attack punch he threw when he thought I’d lowered my guard, square in my hand. My guard was never lowered around this little bastard, and would never be lowered again. And I remember making a really gleeful face, ready to start this excursion all over again. Because clearly, he hadn’t had enough humble pie yet. Clearly, enough ego was left in that sore body that still needed to be shown, you aren’t in control here.

So he made a horrified face, screamed and ran outside to get his parents, crying.

I don’t remember ever getting in trouble. I just remember never going to that babysitter or dealing with their shithead son again. I think his parents, whom covered for him often and made excuses for him, understood exactly what had been done, and why. And as upset as they may have been, couldn’t blame me for it. For that matter, my father is the sort of man that would’ve known these people (it’s just that sort of small, rural location), and if they’d come to him telling him I was just violent for no reason, he would’ve laughed disdainfully and bluntly told them what an asshole their kid was, and remind them instances of watching them BE an asshole. So, that was the end of that.

But dealing with such an abusive, destructive, manipulative prick taught me things about life that I’ve internalized. There are people in this world who cannot be moved by what’s fair or best in principle, or what’s fair and just between individuals. There are people in this world who only care about winning, either personally, in principle, or long view. And they’ll deceive, lie, disrupt, confuse or manipulate with no guilt, shame or remorse if it means getting their way, then mock you for losing after they cheat and victory dance over it. There are people in this world that don’t look at you and see a person, they see a tool, entertainment, a threat, a patsy, a mark, a victim. They just are socially contracted to perform like you’re human to throw off suspicions.

The only thing such people respect are permanent damage and restriction for their actions, and permanent loss of face. They do not care about you, unless you’re a tool they use against somebody else as leverage or a proxy. They are tyrants championing themselves as strategists.

And the only real cure for people like them is to upend their board game and force feed them the pieces, one punch down the throat per piece, before stomping them hard enough that they vomit. Because if they won’t play nice with good sportsmanship and respect, by god they’ll be entertaining in another way. And they’d gladly do the same to you, not because you intend to do it to them, but for no other reason than because they think it’s their right to arbitrarily hurt you.

They bow to nothing but threats to their existence and retaliation if they fuck with the wrong person. Their only behavioral modifier, if you can even call it that, is knowledge of the sorts of damage they CANNOT prevent you from inflicting on them, on their best day and under the best circumstance. And if they don’t feel that threat from you, they have no compunction against using every dirty trick, every bit of violence, every bit of coercion, to tie you into knots and dehumanize you for fun and profit. The threat of retaliatory or even pre-emptive violence based on acknowledging their past behavior and rubbing it in their face they can’t memory hole it in the court of public opinion, the only thing that gives them pause.

[bellafragolina]

You've heard of lil sib reader, now get reader for big sib reader (not from lil sib reader, a whole separate person)! Starring you, Ash and Goh! And… a Gallade because Gallade is my favourite Pokémon ( * ^^)

-being the oldest among the trio, they look up to you like a big sibling! you take up the position with some pride and reluctance, being someone two energetic and ambitious boys look up to was a bit of a challenge but you pull through.

-to level out the energy, you're calmer. to prevent accidents, you're the brain cell. to prevent conflict, you're the mediator. it gets tiring but what's worth it in the end is everyone's smiling faces–and of course, them calling you "big sib"! you feel all fluffy and warm on the inside at the title, they're both so adorable when they say it, you just wanna give them a big hug! you and dragonite give the best hugs!

-ash likes battling you a lot! he thinks you and gallade are crazy strong. he also likes to hear all about the strong trainers you've met, turns out he knows quite a few of them too! you even have footage of the matches saved, so you show him some of your favorites when sitting in the train or plane. his eyes sparkle with intrigue so brightly, you need to look away lest you wish to go blind. you make sure to be there for all his important battles and cheer him on loudly from the sidelines!

-goh enjoys reading your research notes and even watching you do your research! he gets super excited to learn about all the pokémon you encounter. you have pretty good observation skills so he's always surprised when you point out a detail he doesn't notice when you're out on the field.

-they're really impressed with how you handle wild pokémon, you're calm even in the face of aggressive ones. once, you all had left your pokémon at the centre while you went to do some field research. the boys were unfortunate to stumble upon a mightyena and it attacked them- or at least nearly did because you jumped in to take the hit instead. you had to tell them to stay back because it only got angrier the closer they came to you. your arm took multiple painful bites while you tried to placate it. about 10 minutes passed before it finally relaxed and apologized to you, trying to lick your wounds. the whole time, goh and ash were watching with worry and amazement. they gained so much more respect for you after that incident.

-as protective as you are of them, you don't step in until it's entirely necessary though your self-restraint needs work. gallade can be seen holding you back from punching the absolute lights out of team rocket every time. they DID end up being sent flying the one time you escaped gallade's vice grip though. they're lucky you're usually off somewhere else doing research when they arrive… or else who knows what you'd do. other villains aren't as lucky, you've socked rose and matori right in the cheek! (gallade let it happen… he was mad too…)

-whenever ash or goh are feeling down, they look at you with the most kicked puppy expressions ever. your heart immediately breaks and you're already comforting them and giving them hugs! and after you're done making them smile, you're rushing over to whatever made them sad in the first place with gallade running behind trying to stop you. raboot and grapploct dodged bullets for real.

-for goh especially though, you're slower with your approach. he's more sensitive (which isn't a bad thing) than ash so you're careful with how you select your words and even interact with him when he's upset. he thinks a lot (which isn't a bad thing either) and sometimes those thoughts keep him up at night, he thinks he's sneaky but you always find him sitting outside watching the stars. you slip out to accompany him and he really appreciates it, it makes him feel less lonely when he's got all the stars out there and a brilliant star right next to him.

-but when they find something new, they look more like excited boltunds. you have to focus real hard to catch what they're saying because they're talking as fast as an arcanine's extreme speed! they always speak at the same time so your brain gets fried trying to categorise the info. all you need to do is put a hand on their heads and they'll stop, apologising for their behavior. you tell them it's fine but they can practically see you deflated.

-you help dry their hair after they shower just to make sure they don't catch colds and even comb through them too. ash's hair is easier to work with since it isn't that long but goh's hair gets a bit tangled sometimes. he usually gives up halfway and opts to clip them back instead, but ever since you started combing his hair he's had to clip less of his hair back! he still keeps his bangs out of his face but it's a lot smoother and silkier now!

-when camping out, it's pretty much your job to cook food since the boys still aren't that great at it. either that or they starve… you let them help out sometimes but they're always competitive with each other so things get messy easily. they really like your cooking, though! ash could probably eat every portion you made if nobody else had to eat… honestly, what's his stomach made of?!

-there was that one time where you fell ill and you were so out of it, you could barely move away from your bed without a skull splitting migraine keeping you shackled to rest. goh and ash were so worried about you, in your blurry memory they even cried. they did their best to watch over you the entire day, making soup by themselves (well… mostly by themselves because gallade would not let the house burn down) and monitoring your temperature. the next day when you woke up, you found the two boys and their pokémon sleeping on the floor with the thermometer, bucket and towel next to them. gallade was resting on your chair, too.

-they care about you as much as you do for them! all your lockscreens are the same picture: the three of you smiling brightly at the camera lens with messed up hair.

"Huh? What I think about [Name]?"

"Big sib [Name]?"

The two boys look at each other before turning back.

"They're the best big sib we could ask for!"

TT-TT

That is so fucking cute I’m gonna scream that is so cute!! I love Ash and Goh from journeys and I love seeing them like this!! With a big sib to help them out when they need it!! So cute!!

You’re so good at writing family I am so delighted every time I see you send me something!!! Them trying to take care of you!! You beating up team rocket for them!! I love it too much!!!!!!

~Renee

[zgvlt]

i am so sorry,,, its really late here,, so my response might just be utterly horrible ;; and sound braindead

basically tho;

Secret Relationship: Jamil, Rook, Lilia, Jade, (Kalim), (Trey/Cater)

LDR (longdistancerelationship): Floyd, Idia, (Jamil)

I think Jamil is the one who could keep a relationship the longest out of everyone because of the limited time together spent, and I'm sure he's not the PDA type much either, so their relationship might just seem like a close bond for now? (until kalim goes on a hunting spree for jamil w his dormmates and just sees him hugging his partner,,, so theyre both just awkwardly standing... staring..... at each other).

(or kalim finds out by himself,, and keeps it a secret; I'm sure he can keep it very well)

also I don't think anyone mentioned it yet, but I feel like Jamil is a double-edged sword with LDR? because there are many relationships that can split apart due to the lack of time spent together, and much less, they cant even see each other;;

so im kind just,,, brainrotting over the idea of Jamil and his partner gradually just,,, drifting apart? Like maybe they both couldn't talk much because duties, and maybe idk, long time before one's message could appear and stuff.. and like its no ones fault yknow??? its just,, sometimes, with how busy we can be with our lives, we sometimes gradually just forget things especially if we dont see it and now suddenly, it feels unnatural somewhat strange for yknow jamil and his partner to yeah?? they just like... drift apart but then finally they meet again f2f, and maybe the saying the heart grows fonder w distance is true after all,,,??? also sorry for how i sound super braindead,, its very late here;;;;;

and also about others; I think Kalim, surprisingly might be able to handle an long distance relationship, and right!! I think Floyd wouldnt be able to do well w those, along w Ace a little? And yknow this might be a little unexpected but

i think idia might not be able to handle one too (and may suck at hiding a relationship too lowkey) tho at the same time like maybe he will thrive at this type of thing, especially if the context is his partner is someone he met online and havent met em yet in person?? or yeah has a really super strong trust bond???

and back to the first question, I think it might be hard for Vil to hide his partner because he's a very famous celebrity like globally known, and with that comes such paparazzi while Rook may thrive?? Because i have a few thoughts about it,,,? rook is very sweet; rook often is very knowledgeable about people even if though, he isn't friends w them? (like he knew someone's class number, height, and everything, but that person didnt know about him until now lmao) and he is like, hes just so sweet? sweet w his nicknames haha and has a l o t of words to say about a person sometimes which is amazing and yeah??

so i think if he has to keep a relationship a secret?? he might be able to get away w certain stuff, complimenting his partner so much even in public, and being quite knowledgeable about em too bc thats who rook is, right? and yeah i think rook is sneaky guy too so i think he's one of the best (or potentially even the best??) to hiding a relationship? and I do see Jade and also, hmmm, right!!!!!!!!! Lilia! i think lilia could pull it off pretty well too and lowkey, kalim seem like he has potential to keep his relationship a secret too imo, and i do feel riddle might be able to do so too but at the same time,, im not too sure?

[referencing this post]

hihi thank you for the feedback, and a lengthy one too! interesting take on jamil with the LDR actually!! and you're so right, i mean first of all jamil already probably isn't the most secure in a relationship, but ahahaha your jamil brainrot is hitting me a little 🥴 not gonna lie that is almost exactly how i feel about LDR HAHAHA

vil... i think how well he'd be able to hide it specifically depends on his partner. if they want to go on dates they're gonna get busted LOL, even if not paparazzi in the case that the s/o is in school someone is just gonna take a picture and upload it on magicam and its over lol

the thing with riddle is that i feel like at first he would be able to, but the moment someone gets suspicious and asks him about it the way he will react gives it away